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Nick didn’t work the Friday morning shift. Billy Newton, the regular morning short-order cook, handled the breakfast crowd. Instead, Nick headed directly to the maintenance shed. The chances of the outboard motor and ancient fishing gear working like they should seemed slim.

  The storm that had come in during the evening, keeping the diner crowd light, had blown past, leaving only a few puffy clouds lingering behind in a pale blue sky.

  It took just a few tries at starting the motor to confirm Nick’s fears. Whatever gas had been left in the twelve-horsepower engine had turned to varnish.

  The fishing poles looked all right, but the lines on the reels were permanently coiled. No one would be able to cast the line more than a few feet from the boat.

  He didn’t have a clue which of the lures he found in a tackle box would tempt a fish.

  He stuffed everything except the boat itself into the back of his truck.

  “Come on, Rags. Let’s see if we can find someone to help us out.” He hated the thought of letting Greg down. He remembered what that kind of disappointment felt like—a knife right square in the middle of his chest.

  From his drive around the area on Sunday, he remembered an auto repair garage on the outskirts of town. He found it easily enough and parked next to a couple of dusty cars that looked like junkers.

  Inside, a couple of cars were up on hoists and a pickup sat waiting for attention. No one seemed to be around.

  He strolled toward the back of the building where a big door was raised, revealing a swing set and a house built of logs. Nice digs, he thought, as Rags went to explore the area.

  “May I help you?”

  He turned at the sound of a female voice. An attractive woman with long, brown hair stood in the doorway of a glass-enclosed office.

  “I was looking for a mechanic. I’ve got an outboard motor that’s stuck solid. I figured a mechanic would know how to fix it.”

  “I’m sure he does. My husband just went to get something in the house. He’ll be right back.”

  “Great. I’ll wait.”

  Nick did a double take as Rags came trotting back into the garage. Puzzled, he knelt. “What have you got, boy?”

  “Kitty Kat!” The woman raced across the garage. “Oh my! Is she hurt? She belongs to my daughter.”

  “Give, boy. Give.” Gently, Nick took the young cat from Rags’ mouth. He stood, petting the calico with black, white an orange markings. She seemed to be no worse for wear.

  “Is she all right?” the woman asked.

  “Looks like it.” He handed her the cat.

  “Shame on you for sneaking out of the house,” she crooned while checking the cat for injuries. “Your dog must have a very soft mouth. A hunting dog?”

  “Not since I’ve had him.” It hadn’t occurred to Nick that Rags could be a trained hunting dog, possibly for pheasants or ducks. Or maybe he was so gentle at heart, he knew not to hurt other animals.

  A guy in blue mechanic’s overalls came out of the house. He had the physique of a man who worked hard and the walk of someone comfortable with himself.

  “Adam, honey, this man needs some repairs on an outboard motor. And you must have let Kitty Kat out when you went inside.”

  “I did? I didn’t even see her.”

  “Well, you take care of this gentleman, and I’ll put her back where she belongs.” She headed for the house.

  “Your wife?” Nick asked.

  “Yep. Janelle and I have been married for two whole weeks. She’s my bookkeeper and business manager, too.” The grinning mechanic extended his hand. “Adam Hunter. What can I do for you?”

  Nick introduced himself and told him about the motor. He signaled Rags to heel as they strolled out to his truck. “You’re a lucky guy, married to an attractive woman who’s smart, too.”

  “Don’t I know it. We’ve got two of the prettiest little girls you’ll ever see.”

  Two daughters and only married two weeks? Nick wondered how that had worked out.

  Adam hefted the motor and carried it to a workbench to examine.

  Nick felt a punch of envy for Adam and his family, and quickly suppressed the feeling. “I’m supposed to take Alisa Machak’s son fishing tomorrow,” Nick said. “Is there any chance you could fix it today?”

  “Alisa at the diner?”

  “That’s the one. I’ve been helping her out lately. In fact, the motor belonged to her father.”

  “No fooling? I heard Mama got hurt.”

  Nick gave Adam an update, then got back to the point. “About the motor?”

  “Yeah, it’s an old one. Not even an electric starter. I’m going to have to take it all apart and boil out all the goo that’s inside.” He thought for a moment. “For Alisa’s kid, I’ll get it done. Can you come back around four or five?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Thanking Adam, Nick climbed back into his truck, and Rags hopped into the seat behind him. He’d seen some fishing gear at the barbershop. Maybe Ned could help him out with the rest of his problem.

  He angle parked a couple of doors down from the barbershop. Grabbing the ancient rods and reels, he strolled into Ned’s shop.

  “Hey, Nick. If you’re planning to go fishing, you’ve missed the lake by about a hundred yards.” Standing beside the barber chair, Ned was working on a gray-haired fellow with a mustache.

  “I thought I’d just hook up with that fish on the wall in your back room. Figured that’d be easier than catching one myself.”

  Ned barked a laugh. “Not gonna happen, buddy. That prize was hard-won.”

  Parking himself in a chair, Nick propped the rods against the wall. Rags sat on the floor next to him, keeping his eye on Ned.

  “I’ve got a fishing problem,” Nick said. “Thought maybe you’d be a good one to help me.”

  “Sure. I’ll be done with Jessup here soon.” Using an electric razor, he buzzed the back of the man’s neck.

  As promised, it didn’t take Ned long to finish the haircut and send his customer out the door.

  One look at the old poles and Ned shook his head. “You’re not going to catch much with these.”

  Nick told him about Greg and the father-son fishing contest. And his lack of experience fishing for anything.

  Ned hooked his arm over Nick’s shoulders. “You have lived a sadly deprived life, my friend.”

  The next thing Nick knew, he was out in the alley behind the barbershop learning to cast a lure on Ned’s gear. After a half hour of practice, he knew he wasn’t going to be great at this fishing business, but with a prayer and the Lord’s help, maybe he and Greg wouldn’t look like total fools out on the lake.

  Maybe, if the fishing contest went okay, Alisa would even give him a smile and forget for a minute that he was an ex-con.

  * * *

  Midmorning, Alisa was carrying two orders of waffles and bacon to a couple sitting at the counter when Dr. McCandless walked into the diner.

  “Good morning, Doctor. Help yourself to a seat at the counter or a table. I’ll be right with you.”

  “Actually, I didn’t come for breakfast. I had a break in my appointments. I thought I’d drop by, see how Ingrid is doing.”

  “Oh. That’s very nice of you.” Alisa had never known the doctor to leave his office and patients in the middle of the day. “She had a restless night. About three o’clock this morning, I made her take a pain pill. She complains they make her head feel like it’s full of cotton balls.”

  “That’s probably true. Still, she needs to take them so she can rest properly. I’ll go on up and change her bandages.”

  “Um, Doctor, I already did that this morning.”

  “Oh, well...I’ll just take a look.” He headed for the stairs.

  Still holding the plates
of waffles, Alisa stared after him, her brows lifting with curiosity. Was he actually making a house call? Dr. McCandless, a pediatrician, certainly wasn’t Mama’s regular doctor.

  Or was this a social call?

  Chapter Eleven

  Nick was in the kitchen setting up for the dinner hour when Greg burst in from school.

  Breathless, the boy gasped for air. “Did you get the motor fixed for the boat?”

  “Sure did, sport. I borrowed some top-of-the-line fishing gear, too, and we’re all set to go.”

  “All right!” Greg pumped his fist in the air. “I told Pete and Shaun and everybody we’re gonna catch the biggest fish they ever saw.”

  “I don’t know about that, son.” The youngster’s eagerness tickled Nick. And made him nervous. He’d learned as a kid that if you get your hopes set too high, more often than not you end up disappointed. “Remember I’ve never caught anything, so don’t be surprised if we get skunked and somebody else wins.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re gonna be the best fishermen in all of Bear Lake. I can feel it right here.” He thumbed his puffed up chest.

  The tightness in Nick’s chest was telling him something different. “We have to be at the municipal dock early to get registered and get our boat in the water.”

  The swinging door opened, and Alisa walked in. She was dressed for work but hadn’t yet pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Hey, munchkin. You’re home from school.”

  Greg raced over to his mom. “Nick got the motor fixed! We’re gonna catch tons of fish, Mom. I know we are.”

  Laughing, she gave him a hug. “I hope so, honey, but you never know when the fish are going to bite. Even if you don’t catch any fish at all, you’ll still have fun.”

  “But we will, Mom! I know we will!” He dropped his backpack on a nearby chair. “I’m gonna go call Pete and tell him we’re gonna be there real early in the morning.” He ran out, his feet soon thundering on the stairs up to the family’s quarters.

  Nick perched on the edge of a stool with his back to the reflections in the stainless steel dishwashing machine—a habit he’d developed to avoid the images that could still taunt him. “I hope he won’t be too disappointed if we don’t catch anything.”

  “I guess disappointment is part of growing up.” She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes alert for anything that might need her attention. Hector was busy at his station, the scent of hamburgers rising from the grill. The dishwasher was whooshing along doing its job. “What time did you plan to leave in the morning?”

  “I’d like to leave about seven. I’ll hook up the boat trailer to my truck tonight before I turn in.”

  “I’ll have him ready to go then. In fact, I doubt he’ll sleep at all tonight. He’s always been like that on Christmas Eve, too excited to sleep.” Her gentle smile spoke of happy memories.

  After Nick’s mother died there hadn’t been any reason for him to be excited about Christmas. Just another day as far as his dad was concerned.

  Pressing aside the thought, Nick pushed up from the stool. “Maybe I ought to run over to the grocery store, see if I can buy a couple of trout to hang on Greg’s hook.”

  She opened her mouth in a gasp. “But that would be cheating.”

  He grinned.

  “Oh, you!” Her cheeks colored and she laughed. “You were teasing, weren’t you?”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he said with a straight face, and loving the sound of her laughter. “We don’t want to disappoint the boy, right?”

  “Somehow I don’t think a couple of gutted fish from the market would make him feel any better.”

  They stood four feet apart looking at each other for a long minute. Nick couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was when she blushed. And how he’d like run his fingers through her hair. And kiss her again.

  It hurt to realize that none of that was going to happen no matter how much he wanted it.

  * * *

  Alisa was the one who couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned half the night fretting about Greg. Did Nick have life jackets? She’d seen to it that Greg had learned to swim. But if he fell out of a boat with all of his clothes on, would he stay afloat? The lake was so cold, hyperthermia could set in in a matter of minutes.

  Did Nick know how to swim? Would he be able to rescue Greg if her son fell in the water?

  For that matter, what was she thinking, sending her precious boy fishing with a near stranger who had once hurt a man so badly that he’d been sent to prison?

  If only she could go with them and watch over Greg herself.

  When it was finally time to get up, her head was as fuzzy as Mama’s was on pain meds. She made sure that Greg, despite his excitement, ate breakfast. When they went downstairs, Nick had already pulled his truck and boat trailer up next to the diner. He was leaning against the fender waiting, his legs crossed at the ankle. Rags’s nose was pressed against the back window.

  Greg strutted right to the truck to climb inside.

  “Wait a minute, young man.” Alisa snared Greg by the back of his jacket. “Don’t I get a kiss?”

  “Ah, Mom, we gotta go.” He barely relented enough for her to give him a hug and a kiss.

  “Now you be careful, honey. Don’t rock the boat or goof off, okay?”

  “Yes, Mom. Now can I go?”

  She released her son, and when she looked up she found Nick grinning at her, the crease in his cheek clearly visible. An unexpected flutter of awareness caught her off guard. She must be more fuzzy-headed than she’d thought.

  “He’ll be fine, Alisa. I promise to take good care of him.”

  “I know that but...” Her breath caught, which didn’t have anything to do with Nick’s winning smile or the way his blue eyes crinkled at the corners, she told herself. “Do you have life jackets? There may be some in the shed.”

  “Ned loaned me life jackets for both of us. I’ve also made us a couple of sandwiches in case we get hungry and a thermos of hot chocolate. I’ve got bottled water and sunscreen, too.”

  “Oh.” All she’d been worried about was Greg drowning. “You’re taking the dog?”

  “I didn’t want to leave him here. He’ll be fine in the boat.”

  A frown pulled her eyebrows down. How could he know that? Rags might panic and try to get out. He could upset the whole boat.

  With two long strides, Nick reached her. He tipped her chin up. “You going to wish us good luck?”

  She was excruciatingly aware of the touch of his fingers beneath her chin. She swallowed hard. “Yes, of course. Good luck.” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

  “Thanks.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Try not to worry.”

  “Come on, Nick. We’re gonna be late,” Greg insisted.

  Nick stepped back, held her gaze for an instant then turned to jog around the truck and hop in the driver’s side.

  A big grin on his face, Greg waved as the truck and boat trailer pulled away. The name Dreamer painted on the side of the aluminum boat gave Alisa a jolt. Her father had been such a dreamer. Once upon a time, so had she.

  Rooted in place, Alisa watched the truck turn on to the main road through town. Only when it was out of sight did she exhale the breath she’d been holding. Even so, the warmth of Nick’s lips lingered on her forehead.

  Why did he have to kiss her?

  And why, of all the crazy notions, did she wish he’d kissed her on the lips?

  Trying to ignore her foolish thoughts, she went upstairs. Mama, still dressed in her nightgown and robe, was sitting at the kitchen table. Her arms and hands were covered with the white cream the doctor had given her.

  She flexed the fingers of her right hand to keep them limber despite the burns. “Did the bo
ys get off all right?”

  Alisa sat down opposite her. “They’re off all right. But I’d hardly call Nick a boy.” Just the opposite, he was all man and all wrong for her.

  Mama eyed her curiously. “Compared to my age, he’s a boy.”

  Not to Alisa. “Is Dr. McCandless coming by this morning?”

  “Are you changing the subject?”

  “Of course not.” Alisa made a careful study of the hangnail on her thumb.

  “It is nice that Nick is taking your boy fishing, yes?”

  “Greg’s thrilled.” Pushing back her chair, Alisa stood. “Which is all very well and good. But what about next year and the year after? Who will take Greg fishing then?” Her voice rose, and an ache caught in her throat.

  “Maybe Nick will take him again.”

  “He’s going to leave. You know he will.” Tears burned in her eyes. Tears of regret. Tears of longing. Tears she was not going to shed.

  “You don’t know that, my Alisova.”

  Mama’s softly spoken words, her loving Czech nickname, made Alisa want to be held and rocked in her mother’s arms again as she had been as a child. She wanted to be told everything would be all right. Her scraped knee would heal. Her broken heart would become whole.

  Except she was a grown-up now. She knew words couldn’t heal. And broken hearts could stay broken for a long time. Hers and her son’s.

  Pulling her hair back, she grabbed a clip to hold it in place. “I’m going to go see how the breakfast service is going.”

  The diner was her life. Her home. An attractive man drifting through town wasn’t going to change that.

  “There’s something you need to do today,” Mama said. “I haven’t paid Nick for his work yet. He’d probably like cash, not a check. You can pay him this afternoon.”

  Cash. Not a check for a drifter. With a pocket full of cash he could travel light. No baggage. No commitment.

  For Nick, Alisa and her son represented both.

  * * *

  After the lunchtime crowd thinned, Alisa went into the kitchen to prepare her order for Monday’s delivery from the wholesale distributor. She’d barely sat down when she heard a cheer and applause rise from the front of the diner.