Home of  Mickey Minner

The Written Word
@ Copyrighted 2007

CHAPTER ONE

 Julie Peterson was lost. At least, she was beginning to think she was. She looked for a place to pull her car off the pavement to refer to the map spread out on the passenger seat. Normally, she would have propped it up on the steering but the didn’t feel safe doing that on the narrow, windy two lane road that twisted and turned with each curve and bend of the terrain.

 She glanced again at the gauge showing the amount of gas left in the tank. “I hope it isn’t too much further.” She frowned at how close the needle was to the empty end of the gauge. “I don’t think I missed any turns,” she muttered as she tried to remember. After turning off the main highway, she had seen very few side roads splitting off from the one she traveled. And none had seemed to much more than entries to the scattered homes she passed.

 She was beginning to seriously doubt her directions when the landscape suddenly changed. Instead of the forested mountain slopes she had been driving though for the past hours, a wide meadow spread out before her. She smiled as a cluster of buildings took shape at the far end of the clearing, the sun glistening off the shimmering waters of a large lake behind them.

 It wasn’t but a few minutes before Julie pulled to a stop next to a pair of gas pumps in front of a small country store. She stepped out of her car and removed the gas cap from her tank’s fill tube. Studying the gas pumps, she lifted the nozzle from the pump marked “unleaded” and slipped it into her tank. As the tank filled, she looked around Lake Como, the small town she had driven most of the night to reach.

 Built on the banks of the lake, the town looked like any other summer tourist destination. Buildings painted in brilliant colors and trimmed in even brighter shades, the owners hoping to attract visitors and the money their pockets held. Signs, directing tourists to campgrounds, hiking trails and boat launches, occupied the corners of the town’s only intersection, a four-sided flashing red light hung above it.

 “Good morning.”

 Julie’s head jerked around. Over the top of her car, she saw a man dressed in overalls and wearing a wide brimmed hat standing next to a bed of blooming flowers, a water hose held in his hand. The gas nozzle’s safety valve clicked off. She glanced down at the nozzle then back at the man. “Um, sorry. Good morning.” She replaced the nozzle on the pump and screwed the gas cap back on. “Do I pay you?”

 “Register is inside.”

 “Is there a café nearby?” She hadn’t noticed one earlier but she was sure the town had to have at least one restaurant.

 “Lakeside Café. But it won’t be open for another half hour or so. We have a counter inside. Coffee is hot and the eggs are fresh. You can park your car under those trees,” he pointed with the hose, spraying water for several feet.

 Julie nodded before pulling open the car’s door. She started the engine and guided the car forward to the parking area.

 “First visit to Lake Como?” the man asked after she climbed out of the car and started walking toward him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

 She looked quizzically at the man. “You know all the town’s visitors?”

 He laughed. “My wife and I have been running this place almost twenty years now. We know the regulars. Everyone else is a first timer.” He tossed the hose into the flower bed then joined Julie as she pulled open the screen door leading into the store. “Has the makings of a nice day,” he said as he followed her inside. “Go on and grab a seat at the counter. I’ll see where Shirley has gone off to.”

 Julie stood near the door watching the store owner disappear into the kitchen, the swinging door squeaking noisily on rusty hinges. Looking around, she saw what she expected to see. Shelving units lined up in rows holding everything from motor oil to breakfast cereal while refrigerated units at the back of the store held milk, soft drinks and beer and an assortment of prepackaged sandwiches and fresh fruit. Jammed into a corner nook was a chaotic array of clothing.

 “Good morning. Conrad tells me I have my first customer of the day.” Julie turned to face a woman standing behind the counter and smiling pleasantly. “Can I start you off with a cup of coffee? The pot just finished brewing a few minutes ago.”

 Julie smiled and nodded. “Sounds good. But I’d like to wash up first.”

 “Of course. The washrooms are back behind the shirts and hats.”

 “Thank you.” Julie waited until the woman busied herself with pouring the coffee before walking to the corner nook. She eased through the crowded racks holding various types and colors of shirts displaying a picture of Lake Como on their fronts with the words in large print under or over the water, depending on the shirt style. Shelves hung on the section of wall between the doors to the restrooms held an equally large variety of hats. She pushed open the door marked “ladies”.

 ##

 Julie closed the menu. “I’ll try the special this morning.”

 “Good choice. I’ll have that out to you in just a sec.”

 Julie took a sip of hot coffee, a little too hot. She picked up the small pitcher of cream and added a bit to the cup. “It’s quiet here,” she said to Conrad who was sitting a few stools down the counter.

 “You’re a little early for tourist season. Give it another couple of weeks and you won’t be able to hear yourself think during the day. Cars coming and going, boaters revving their engines just to prove they’ve got the biggest one, kids racing their bikes along the sidewalks.” He shook his head at the memory of previous seasons. “Makes me wonder why we stay here.”

 “Why do you?”

 Conrad took a swallow of coffee then spun the stool seat around. “Because of that,” he said after a long moment. “Can’t find many places as pretty and peaceful as that.” He nodded in the direction of the front of the store where a wall of windows looked out on the town and the lake beyond.

 Julie agreed looking over her shoulder. “It is pretty.”

 “Quiet too.” Conrad grinned as he spun back around to his waiting cup of coffee. He lifted the cup in mock salute, “this time of year, that is.”

 Julie laughed.

 “So what brings you to Lake Como? Vacation?”

 Julie lifted a piece of toast off her plate and nibbled on its crust before answering. “I had a few days with no plans and I thought I’d drive out here.”

 For the first time since she’d arrived in town, she was looked on with suspicion. “Bit out of the way for that, isn’t it?”

 Julie smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is. A friend came here last summer and she hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I thought ‘what the heck’, let’s see what she’s been blabbering about.”

 “Good a reason as any. If you plan to spend more than just the day, I can recommend a real nice place to stay. Good price and real clean rooms.”

 Shirley walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of muffins she had removed from the oven moments before. “Conrad, stop that,” she said having heard her husband’s comment.

 Julie looked puzzled when Conrad chuckled.

 “We own the motel next door,” he explained as Shirley carefully placed the still steaming muffins into a glass display case.

 “Oh.”

 “But he’s right; it is a real nice place to stay.” Shirley had finished with the muffins and was pouring herself a cup of coffee. She carried the pot to the counter and refilled their empty cups.

 “To be honest, I really hadn’t thought about what I would do once I got here. But maybe a room would be a good idea.”

 “Good. Shirley will set you up. I best get back to my watering.”

 “Don’t drown those flower beds like you did yesterday.”

 “Oops.” Conrad hopped off the stool. “I seem to remember leaving a hose running.” He dashed out of the store, the screen door slamming against its frame.

 Shirley shook her head. “I’m surprised any of my flowers survive the season around him.” Reaching under the counter, she pulled out a ledger. “I just need you to fill out this registration card. I’ll give you one of the units on the backside, there’s a nice creek back there with lots of shade trees. It’s a lot better than looking at the highway.”

 “That sounds fine.”

 “Do you want to run a tab? I can charge your gas and breakfast to your room.”

 “Thank you.”

 After filling out the registration card and receiving a room key, Julie made her way to the screen door. She stopped as she passed a display of paperback books, one in particular catching her eye. “Is it true she lives around here?”

 “Who?”

 She pulled the book from the rack and held it up. “Dillon Carson.”

 “Another fan, uh?”

 “I’m sorry?”

 “It’s just that Dillon seems to have no shortage of fans. Some a little nuttier than most, if you get my drift. Yes, she lives here. She has the curio shop down by the docks. Don’t know why but she likes meeting the folks who read her books. If you want to meet her, you can find her there.”

 Julie returned the book to its place in the rack. “Oh. I don’t know…”

 “Suit yourself.” Shirley started to gather up the dirty dishes off the counter. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. And you can usually spot Conrad wandering about.”

 ##

CHAPTER TWO

Melissa Dyne untangled herself from the sheets and threw them off her naked body before swinging her legs over the side of the mattress to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

She looked over her shoulder at the other woman in the bed. “Leaving.”

The woman reached out for her, trailing a finger along her thigh. “Already?”

“I told you,” Melissa stood up and out of the woman’s reach, “don’t expect more than I’m willing to give.”

The woman sat up, shoved the pillows against the headboard and scooted back to lean on them, the sheets draping haphazardly across her waist leaving her breasts exposed. She made no effort to cover herself as she watched Melissa. “I didn’t think the night would end so soon. What’s your hurry?”

Melissa ignored the question as she dressed, pulling on a pair of khaki slacks and bright red polo shirt. She slipped her feet into her shoes not bothering to put on her socks. 

“Come on,” the woman glanced at the clock on the night stand, “what can another hour hurt?”

“Go home to your husband. I’m sure he’s missed you by now.”

“And what about you? Or doesn’t your ring mean anything?”

Melissa looked at her left hand and the gold wedding band. What do you mean?  “That’s none of your business,” she snapped at the woman. Running her fingers through her hair to put some order into the tangled tresses, she walked to the table in the corner of the room.

“Can I see you again?”

She plucked her wallet off the table and walked to the door. “No.”

##

Though her room faced the back of the motel, all the parking was located in the front. Julie decided to leave her car where it was and carry her suitcase to her room.

She placed her bag on the ground beside her then looked at the remaining items in the trunk. Deciding it was better to leave them locked in the car, she slammed the trunk shut. Circling the sedan, Julie made sure each of the four doors was secure before she returned to her suitcase. Having packed for a short visit, she had no problem carrying the large but mostly empty bag across the gravel lot to the building where her room was located.

The motel was a separated from the store by several feet. It was a single story with rooms lining both the front and back sides. Painted, like the store, in a light blue with bright yellow trim around the windows and doors, the building looked well cared for. Julie counted six rooms facing the highway and assumed that an equal number were to be found on the back.

As she walked between the two buildings, the gravel gave way to grass and she spied the creek that Shirley had mentioned. A steady flow cascaded along a stone littered channel, the water tumbling over and around the obstacles. The temperature, which had been rising since she arrived in town, dropped significantly in the shadows cast by protective branches of several large cottonwood trees where the sounds of squirrels chattering and birds chirping could be heard. On the opposite side of the creek, the gently sloping ground rose sharply up an embankment covered in large boulders scattered among the trees. A faint path climbed to the top of the embankment and disappeared over the top.

“Very nice,” Julie said as she turned away from the tranquil scene to find her room. The doors were numbered in large white numerals and she saw that her room was the first at the near end. As she reached to insert the key into the lock, the door at the far end of rooms opened. She turned her head to see a woman step outside and move immediately across the grassy yard to the creek. Using conveniently placed stepping stones the woman hopped across the creek and disappeared up and over the embankment. Out for a morning walk, I guess. Julie turned the key and pushed open her door. Maybe I’ll check out that trail later, she thought as she carried her bag into the room and placed it on the bed.

She looked around the room. The door was located in one corner at the front and a large window beside it provided a nice view of the creek and trees. In the opposite corner was a small kitchenette which consisted of compact refrigerator, microwave, coffee maker and sink. The head of a single queen-size bed was pushed against the center of the side wall between a pair of nightstands, one holding a lamp and the other a telephone and alarm clock. Along the wall opposite the foot the bed, jutting out into the middle of the room, was a dresser of drawers with a television resting on top. At the far end of the room, a small table and single chair occupied one corner and a small open closet occupied the other. Between the two was a door leading into the bathroom. The carpet and furnishings looked worn but the room was neat and clean.

“Well, it’s not very fancy,” Julie muttered as she sat next to her suitcase. She noticed a pamphlet on the nightstand and reached for it, skimming through the pages of a guide to the town’s attractions and services. The last page displayed a map of the area and she took a few minutes to study it before flipping back through the guide’s pages until she found the one she sought. Her finger trailed down the list of businesses, stopping on an entry. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Just enough time for a shower and change of clothes,” she said tossing the guide aside.

##

Dressed in a pair of light brown shorts and tan t-shirt that highlighted her deeply tanned skin, Dillon Carson walked barefoot along the lake shore. Her dark auburn hair was cropped short in an attempt to keep the natural curls from being too unruly and her head was covered with a well worn, and well loved, straw Panama hat.

As she did every morning, she kept her eyes focused on the sandy ground looking for anything unusual that might have washed ashore during the night. She had discovered that small pieces of driftwood twisted into unusual shapes by the forces of nature didn’t stay very long on the shelves of her curio shop and she didn’t want to miss any possible sources of revenue.

Something caught her eye and she bent down to pull a red and white ball out of the sand. “Looks like someone will be looking for a new bopper,” she said as she brushed the plastic float free of sand. She removed her sunglasses to examine the piece of fishing gear for any damage. “Good condition. Seems this morning hasn’t been a complete loss,” she said slipping it into her pocket.

Replacing her sunglasses, Dillon looked out across the lake surface, undisturbed by any early morning fishermen the water was smooth as glass. “Maybe we could take the boat out later,” she thought out loud. “Then again…” A deep sigh escaped her lips before she continued her walk.

##

“Babe, are you here?” Melissa called as she walked through the deserted house. “Dammit,” she muttered entering the vacant bedroom. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower before returning to the bedroom to strip off her clothes.

##

Dillon poured water into the tank of the coffee maker. Then opened the cupboard door above the sink and pulled out the box of filters and removed one. Placing it into the basket, she added coffee and snapped the basket into brewing position. Switching on the unit, she waited for the first drops to fall into the waiting glass carafe. Satisfied, she set about getting the shop ready for day.

The Beachcomber Curio Shop was situated on the corner where the highway into town dead-ended into Shoreline Road, directly across the street from the fishing pier and adjoining boat docks. No one traveled through Lake Como without passing the shop and most ended up spending at least a few minutes looking at the merchandise on display. Inside, tall display cases lined three walls while shorter cases were arranged in a square in the middle of the room. In the center of the square was the register and small desk where Dillon kept the shop’s records and performed her shop owner duties. The layout provided her a view of any customers what they were doing, this was especially useful when the shop was full of tourists and their young children. When she had no customers, the wall of windows at the front of the shop provided her an unobstructed view of the lake, pier and dock activities.

Dillon smiled when the aroma of freshly brewed coffee reached her nose but before she retreated to the back to pour herself a cup she made sure the door was unlocked and the sign in the window was flipped to show the Beachcomber was open for business.

She was stirring a spoonful of sugar into a cup of the rich smelling coffee when she heard the door open. “Good morning,” Dillon greeted the woman who entered the shop.

Julie smiled in response. “Good morning.” 

Dillon took a sip of coffee as she watched the woman move about the display cases. “You’re an early riser. I don’t usually get many customers this time of the morning.” She took another sip then carried the cup to her desk.

“I guess I’m used to getting up early. Hard to break the habit when I don’t have anywhere to be. This is pretty,” Julie pointed at a small canoe created from blown glass.

Dillon nodded in agreement. “Staying in town?” She had learned that most people liked to talk and the more they talked the more likely they were to buy something.

“Yes. Just for a day or two.”

“You picked a good time.”

“So I’ve been told. I’m staying at the motel. Conrad told me all about what happens when tourist season starts.”

Dillon chuckled. “It’s not as bad as he lets on. I think he tells those stories so no one will think Lake Como is a good place to put down roots.”

“But he and Shirley live here year ‘round. Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then it must be a pretty nice place.”

“It can be.”

Julie heard a hint of sadness enter Dillon’s tone and turned to see her staring out at the lake. She returned to her browsing leaving the pre-occupied shopkeeper to her thoughts.

##

Melissa locked the door to the house before walking back to Lake Como’s business district. Her long blonde hair was neatly combed and pulled back into a ponytail. After showering, she had changed into a fresh pair of navy jeans and pale blue polo shirt. A pair of hiking boots and baseball cap completed her ensemble.

Even though she tried to stretch it longer, the walk took less than half an hour and she found herself approaching the curio shop before she was really ready to face the woman inside.

Dillon looked up from the catalog she was perusing when the door opened. Her eyes clouded as she watched Melissa enter and walk past her without much more than a nod of acknowledgment.

Melissa removed a cup from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. Then, steeling herself, walked to where Dillon waited.

When Melissa sat on the corner of her desk, Dillon asked, “Did you eat?”

“Not yet. Thought we might go over to the café.”

“I have a customer.” Dillon kept her voice low. She tried to keep it level but she knew she wasn’t being successful and her emotions were leaking through.

“I’m sorry about last night. I… ah….”

“Don’t. Please, don’t.”

Melissa nodded.

Dillon reached up, cupping her cheek. “You look tired.”

“I’m okay.”

“Are you?”

Melissa wrapped her hand around Dillon’s and brought it to her mouth, tenderly kissing it. She looked into her wife’s eyes and saw what she always saw, a sad combination of love and pain.

Julie discretely watched the exchange. It had taken a few minutes but she finally realized why the woman sitting on the desk looked familiar. It was the same woman she had seen leaving the motel earlier that morning. As quietly as she could, she moved toward the door but she was unable to leave unnoticed.

“Sorry,” Melissa said when the door closed behind Julie. “Hope I didn’t spoil a sale.”

 “I don’t think so. She didn’t seem too interested in the merchandise.” Dillon stood up. Wrapping her arms around her wife, she passionately kissed her.

Melissa returned the kiss. Spreading her legs, she pulled her close. The embrace lasted several minutes before she gently pushed her away. “Breakfast?”

Dillon laid her head on Melissa’s shoulder. “Okay.”

Julie stood on the lake shore. She appeared to be taking in the sights of the docks and the boats tied to their sides. But behind her dark glasses, her eyes had never left the curio shop and the two women inside. When they exited the shop and walked toward the nearby café, she continued to watch them.

##

CHAPTER THREE

Melissa held the door as Dillon walked out of the café then followed her down the half dozen steps to the sidewalk. Stopping at the bottom, she looked around at the empty parking lots around town. “Doesn’t appear there’ll be much business at the shop today.”

“You’re probably right. I was thinking about taking the boat out this afternoon? Maybe we could—”

“Wish I could, Babe. But I promised to take some pics of the falls for the magazine. I thought I’d head up there today.”

Dillon didn’t try to hide her disappointment. “Oh?”

“I’m sorry, Babe. But I did promise.”

“I wish you’d cut back on the number of assignments you accept.”

“Being freelance, I can’t be too choosey. And if I start turning down assignments, they’ll just find someone else to do them.”

“I supposed this means you can’t help me inventory the shipment due today… like you promised.” Dillon said when Melissa made no movement in the shop’s direction.

“I… um… I need to go back to the house and get my camera. I’ll try to be back by the time the mail truck comes.”

Dillon closed the distance between them, expecting a goodbye kiss from her wife but, instead, Melissa turned away, walking briskly down the sidewalk. “I love you,” Dillon whispered to the retreating woman. “Be careful.”

##

Julie casually wandered along the lake shore, stopping periodically to pick up a unique looking pebble or other item of momentary interest. She looked around for a place to rest and enjoy the scenery. Not too far down the beach sat a pair of benches placed facing each other, an obvious arrangement for visitors to carry on a pleasant conversation while enjoying their surroundings.

From her new vantage point, Julie had an unobstructed view back down the beach to where Dillon was sweeping the walkway that fronted the curio shop. She could also see anyone that entered or exited the café; pulled into the store or stopped at the gas pumps; and any cars that drove through the town’s only intersection. But what drew her interest was the grouping of residences occupying a small hillside behind town and Melissa making her way toward one of them.

She stretched her arms out along the top of the bench back and turned her face skyward. The morning sun felt good as it warmed her skin. She rolled her head to the side and spotted Dillon, her arm resting on the top of the broom handle and her chin resting on her arm. She was looking wistfully out across the lake surface.

##

After arriving home, Melissa moved aimlessly from one room to another until she finally sat at the unused desk in the room set aside as an office. She looked at the wall above the desk where a row of neatly lined up books occupied a shelf hung specifically for them. And at the framed certificates and accolades those books had been awarded. The books, shelf and frames were all in need of a good dusting.

Where did it go wrong, Babe?

Unlike the second desk in the room that was cluttered with piles of papers and stacks of books, her wife’s desktop was clear. It was also rarely used anymore and Dillon almost never visited the room after she had abruptly given up her writing career. A decision she had never discussed nor explained.

She thought back on ten years of marriage and on the woman she had fallen in love with. The woman she still loved.

Where did we go wrong?

The soft ticking of a clock was the only sound in the room and even it became too much for the troubled woman to accept. She stood. Grabbing her camera bag off her desk and left the room pulling the door shut behind her.

##

Dillon was cleaning the glass tops of the display cases that encircled her desk. She looked up when the door to the shop opened. “Hello, again.”

“Hi. I thought I’d come back and look at what else you have. I was… sort of interrupted earlier,” Julie said nervously.

Her cheeks colored remembering the reason for the woman’s rapid departure that morning. “I’m sorry about that. My wife was away last night and… well…”

Julie smiled as she approached Dillon. “I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you. Many wouldn’t be so kind.”

“It’s okay. Really,” she said reaching for Dillon’s hand. She withdrew a second later when the door opened and a man carried a large box inside.

“Afternoon, Dillon.”

“Afternoon, Bobby. You need any help?”

The mailman set the box on the floor. “I’ve got two more just like this one in the truck. You can hold the door open if you want.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be right there.” Dillon looked at Julie, “please look around. And let me know if you need any help,” she said walking around the display cases to do as the mailman had asked.

“Don’t know what’s in these but they weigh a ton,” Bobby groused setting a second box next to the first.

“I ordered some sculptures. Miniature osprey, trout, elk, moose, that sort of thing. They’re delicate so I’m guessing the company packed them well.”

Bobby carried the third box inside, a clipboard and some loose envelopes riding on top of it. “Sure hope that’s what it is and they didn’t ship you a load of bricks.” As he moved past, Dillon snatched the items off the box.

“If they did, you’ll be carrying them right back out to your truck. Where do I sign?”

“Hang on a sec,” he said as he placed the box with the others. Straightening up, he looked at the paperwork in Dillon’s hand. “Right there. You want to check the contents first?”

“No. Melissa is going to help me inventory them and she’s not here yet. No sense in holding you up because she’s late.”

Bobby accepted the clipboard when Dillon held it out to him. “Okay. You’ve got your incoming mail. Any out going?”

“Not today. Thanks, Bobby.”

The mailman tapped his brow in a mock salute. “It’s my job, ma’am.”

Dillon laughed. “Get out,” she scoffed, playfully attempting to swat his arm.

“See you tomorrow,” he said scooting out of her reach.

“I’ll be here.” Dillon looked at the boxes then turned her gaze out the window. She hoped to see Melissa but the road was empty, as was the sidewalk. “Damn.”

Julie moved from the rear of the shop where she had been standing. “Problem?”

Dillon turned to her customer. “Um. Not really. I need to match the contents of these boxes to the invoice. It’s just easier to do with two people but it seems I’ll have to take care of it myself today.”

“I can help. I mean… if you want.”

Dillon hesitated. Another look outside confirmed that her wife was not going to appear any time soon. “Sure. If you don’t mind, I don’t. Let me get a knife to get these open. Why don’t you pull the desk chair out here? That way you won’t have to stand while I do the unpacking.” Dillon crossed to the back of the shop and the storage closet where she kept a box knife. When she returned to the boxes, Julie was sitting on the chair, pen in hand, waiting for her next instructions.

##

Melissa placed her camera bag on the passenger seat before lifting the gallon jug of water off the floor board and unscrewing the lid. The afternoon was warm and she had drunk all the water she’d carried with her on the hike to the waterfall. After quenching her thirst, she turned the key in the ignition. Letting the engine idle for a few minutes, she took another drink from the jug then leaned over to place it back on the floor board, her eyes skimming over the face of the dashboard clock. “Dammit. When has it ever taken me this long to make this hike?” Maybe when it became too hard to face her, came the answer. “Shut up.” She shifted the truck into gear, a cloud of dust and gravel billowed as she sped out of the parking area.

##

“Ooh, I love that one,” Julie gushed as Dillon unwrapped a bald eagle, wings spread wide and struggling fish clutched securely in the bird’s talons.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” she held the sculpture up to catch the afternoon sun coming through the window. “I think there are supposed to be six of these.”

Julie glanced down at the invoice. “Yes. Six.”

Dillon set the eagle on the floor and set about removing the others from the box and un-wrapping them. “Is that everything?”

“I think so. Let me double check.”

The sound of squealing tires made them look up. They watched as a pickup skidded to a stop in front of the shop.

Seconds later, Melissa rushed through the door, stopping abruptly when she saw the women sitting in the middle of a pile of wrapping material— one looking at her with distain; the other with disappointment. “I’m sorry, Babe,” she began as she hurried to Dillon’s side. “Time got away from me. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Dillon looked at Melissa. Why is everything you do always more important than me? “It’s okay. We just finished.”

“We?”

“Yes… Oh, my gosh.” Dillon blushed as she twisted around to face Julie. “Here, you’ve been helping me all afternoon and I never even asked your name. Talk about bad manners.”

She smiled. “Julie. And I should have introduced myself a long time ago.”

“I am so sorry.” Dillon held out a hand. “Dillon. I’m glad to meet you Julie. And this late arrival is my wife, Melissa.”

Julie accepted the hand and apology. “Hi.”

“Thanks for offering to help, Dil. I really expected to be back earlier,” Melissa said more to her wife than the stranger.

“I was glad I was here. It would have been a lot of work for her to do alone,” Julie’s response held a tinge of reproach.

Melissa looked puzzled. “Yeah. I guess it would have been. I’ll clean up this mess,” she offered while Dillon carried the new merchandise to an empty shelf near the front of the shop.

Julie stood, dropping the invoice she had been marking onto the vacated chair. “Let me help you with that.”

“I do appreciate your help, Julie,” Dillon said as Melissa stuffed wrapping paper back into the empty boxes. “What can I do to thank you? Can I pay you for your time?”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I was happy to help.”

“But you’ve been here all afternoon. I have to do something.”

“Well… There is one thing. But I’m a little embarrassed to mention it.”

“Oh?”

Melissa closed the flaps on one of the boxes. When she lifted it the corner brushed against a figurine.

“Careful, honey,” Dillon rushed back to rescue the teetering statuette. “Don’t want to break any before we’ve paid for them.”

“Sorry, Babe.”

“I shouldn’t have left them on the floor. Let me get the rest of them picked up before you move the other boxes.” With Julie’s help, Dillon quickly transferred the remaining sculptures from the floor to the display case. “All clear,” she patted her wife on the shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Dillon pushed the chair back to the desk. “Julie, you were saying there was something I could do for you.”

“Well, yes.”

“And it is?”

“Okay, this is really embarrassing but I know who you are. And I’ve read all of your books. At least, twice. So if you wouldn’t mind…”

Dillon chuckled. “I’d be glad to autograph them for you.”

“Really?”

“Sure. How many do you have?”

“Like I said, all of them. But they’re back at the motel. I didn’t think I’d have the nerve to ask you.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to bring them here? Or, since you have that many, it might be easier if I just walked over there.”

“Oh, that would be great. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“After all your help today, it’s no trouble at all. Give us some time to close up the shop and we’ll come over.”

“Both of you?”

“Is that a problem?” Melissa asked. Most of the fans that came to Lake Como in search of Dillon were decent people but a few made her uncomfortable with their overly enthusiastic adoration of her wife.

“Um, no. Just asking.”

“Half an hour. Is that okay?” Dillon asked.

“Fine.”

“What room are you in?”

“Twelve. It’s in the back.”

“I know where it is,” Melissa said.

I’m sure you do, Julie thought. “Half an hour then. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Melissa watched her leave. “She’s creepy.”

Dillon sat down at the desk. “Why would you say that?”

“Because she is,” she said moving closer to the front windows. “She gives off some really bad vibes.” She continued to watch Julie as she walked across the intersection and up the highway to the motel.

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, she does.”

Dillon studied her wife. “She’s a fan, Melissa. That’s all. You know how some of them get.”

Melissa looked over her shoulder at Dillon. “Yeah, I know.”

“Did you get the pictures you needed?”

She turned and crossed the room to stand opposite her wife. “Look, I really am sorry for—“

“Yeah, I know.” Dillon cut off the unwanted apology. What’s going on with us? “Help me get things shut down?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe after I sign the books,” Dillon said as the women went about their tasks, “we can go home. And talk.”

“About what?”

About us. “I don’t know. Just talk.” Like we used to.

Melissa poured the un-drunk coffee down the drain and rinsed out the carafe. Then she opened the basket and removed the filter and grounds, dumping them into the waste basket next to the counter. Dampening a sponge, she wiped off the counter. “I, uh… I’ve sorta made plans for tonight.”

Dillon sighed. Why won’t you talk to me? She forced her eyes closed to stop the tears forming in them.

“Come on.”

Dillon looked up to find Melissa standing beside her.

“Let’s go over to the motel. Then I’ll walk you home.”

#

CHAPTER FOUR

"I think that should do it," Dillon handed back what she thought was the last book in the reader's collection but Julie reached into the box at her feet and pulled out one more.

"This is my absolute favorite."

Dillon smiled, pleased at the compliment and thankful the book was the final one. She had been signing books for a half hour and she could tell by Melissa's body language that her wife was more than ready to leave the motel room. "Then I'll have to add a special note to this one," she said, ignoring her wife's dramatic rolling of her eyes.

Julie waited anxiously while Dillon wrote. "Oh, gosh," she said, reading the writer's comments as soon as she was handed the autographed book. "Thank you."

"Is that it?" Melissa asked standing up. "Can we go now?"

Dillon glared at her wife. "Melissa!"

Julie looked at the agitated woman standing just inside of the door. “Don't let me keep you if you have plans."

Melissa opened the door, waiting impatiently for Dillon to join her. "We do."

"Thank you," Dillon stood. "I do appreciate you buying my books and I'm very happy to hear how much you liked them." She joined her wife. "I hope you'll come by the shop before you leave town."

"Oh, I will," Julie said as the couple left the motel room. She watched them walk down to the creek, hop across the stepping stones and disappear over the top of the hillock before she closed the door.

#

"That was rude." Melissa remained silent as she led Dillon down the back side of the hill. "Why do you have to treat my fans like they're such an inconvenience?"

"Because some of them are. And she gives me the creeps."

"Julie is very nice."

"Maybe to you but I keep catching her looking at me like—"

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know. But it creeps me out." She had reached the side of the main road highway, and without checking for any non existent traffic, strode across the pavement.

"Damn it, Melissa. Talk to me."

Stopping on the center strip, she turned to face her wife. "Talk about what? Talk about how much happier you are when you have some adoring fan gushing all over you? Is that what you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Us. Can we talk about us?"

Melissa looked at her wife then glanced over her shoulder at the town’s business district. "I… um…" She turned and continued across the street. "I'm going over to the Bounty. I'll be home later."

"Please don't."

Melissa heard the plea but did not let it stop her from continuing toward the town's only bar.

Dillon's eyes followed her wife knowing she might not see her again before morning. "Damn," she muttered as she walked across the street but in a direction that would take her home to an empty house.

#

Julie pulled the door shut then tested to make sure it was locked. She stood looking at the creek as she considered her options. Finally, her decision made, she stepped onto the grass and walked down to the creek. It took but a few seconds to cross the creek using the same stones Dillon and Melissa had use earlier then she climbed up the embankment. She stopped when she reached the top to take in the view of the town and lake below. The path, worn down to bare dirt from the heavy use by motel visitors walking to and from the lake, cut diagonally down the side of the hillock to where the highway met the shoreline road. From where she stood, she had an unobstructed view of the intersection, the docks, and the businesses that lined the beach front, including the curio shop. She also had a clear view of Dillon walking toward the hillside of houses at the opposite end of town and of Melissa crossing the parking lot of the bar.

#

“Evening, Ted.”

“Little early for you, isn’t it?” The bartender pulled a bottle of beer out of the tub of ice behind the bar. A quick twist of his wrist freed the cap which was tossed into a basket sitting on the back counter while the chilled bottle was set down in front of his customer.

“I suppose.” Melissa picked up the bottle and lifted it to her lips, letting the cold liquid fill her mouth and roll down her throat. She grimaced when the strong taste registered in her brain.

“Why do you drink that stuff? Seems you could find something you liked a lot better.”

“Keeps me from drinking too much of it.”

Ted laughed. “Slim pickin’s tonight,” he said as she looked around the empty tables.

“Yeah.”

“You might think about going home.”

She took another drink, grimacing again at the bitter taste. “Give it a rest, Ted.”

He shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“But…”

“You don’t need me to tell you you’re a fool,” he said as she finished off the beer. “Want another?”

Melissa looked at the empty bottle in her hand. Before she could make up her mind, the door to the bar opened and a burst of late afternoon sunlight spread across the normally dark room. “Yeah,” she said watching a woman enter. “Give me another one.”

Julie walked to a nearby table and sat down. Taking a napkin from the dispenser on the table, she wiped at the surface nervously.

Ted placed a fresh bottle of beer on the counter before walking around the bar to greet his new customer. “What can I get for you?”

“Do you serve any food?”

“Sure. Let me grab a menu. You want anything to drink?”

“A glass of water, please.”

Melissa listened to the exchange. “You always go to a bar to order water?” she asked after taking a swig of her beer. “Café is just down the street.”

“Is there a reason I can’t eat here?”

Ted returned with the requested glass of water. “Absolutely not. Food here is just as good as the café,” he smiled as he handed her a menu. “Take a look and I’ll be back to get your order.” He glared at Melissa as he returned to the bar. “Haven’t got too many customers this time of year, so don’t go scaring off the ones I do get,” he told her keeping his voice low.

Melissa swiveled back around on the bar stool to face the bar. Her shoulders hunched as she rolled the beer bottle between her hands. She heard Ted return to take Julie’s order and then walk into the kitchen to prepare it. Lifting the bottle to her lips, she emptied it in a few gulps. Placing the bottle on the bar, she stood and pulled her wallet out of her pant’s pocket. After placing a bill next to the empty bottle, she turned and walked to the door.

#

The sun was just about to disappear behind the mountains encircling the lake when Melissa walked out of the bar. She stood in the parking lot a few minutes while she debated whether to go home and face her wife or to find something else to keep her occupied a few more hours. Flashing lights caught her attention and she looked toward the shoreline. “Oh, shit,” she muttered seeing the sheriff’s car parked next to her pickup.

“I was just coming to look for you,” Sheriff Scott McGraw told her as she trotted up to him. “Figured I’d find you in the Bounty.”

“You’re not planning on writing me up for parking here? Heck, Scooter, except for your cruiser, mine is the only car in town tonight.”

“Nope, but you are parked in front of a No Parking sign.”

Melissa pulled her keys out of her pocket. “I’ll move it.”

“Might want to take a look at this first.” The sheriff pointed at the hood of the truck.

“What did a seagull poop on it or something?”

“Or something.”

“What the fa…?” Melissa groaned when she saw the word ‘slut’ scratched across the hood in the crude lettering of an angry hand.

“Who’d you pissed off this time?”

“What are you talking about?” She ran her hand over the word. “Damn, they went down to the metal. Do you know how much this is gonna cost to get fixed?”

“A pretty penny, I bet. So let’s have some names.”

Melissa gazed up at the sheriff, a puzzled look on her face.

“Don’t play that game with me,” Scott told her. “I know where you spend your nights. Now either you give me some names or I’ll go ask Conrad who he’s rented rooms to lately.”

“Dammit, Scooter. I don’t know their names.”

“You sleep with them but don’t know their names?”

“I never ask.”

“What is wrong with you? Ever since you and Dillon came back here you’ve been acting like a tomcat on speed,” the sheriff said, shaking his head disgustedly. “At least, give me a description of the ones from the last few days.”

“Damn, I’m not out bedding a new one every night. There’s only been one. Last night, I picked her up at the Bounty. She was here with her husband. He came to do some fishing.”

“They bring a boat?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“It was one of those lake cruises, about twenty-five, twenty-six feet. A Campion, I think.”

“Color?”

“White with blue trim. But you won’t find it at the docks. I saw them pulling it out this morning.”

Scott made a final notation on his report pad then snapped it shut. “Listen, Melissa, I haven’t wanted to bring this up but you need to deal with whatever is going on in your head.”

“Leave it alone, Scooter.”

“I can’t. The town council took too many complaints about you last summer. It’s not just your one night stands with the wives of the tourists,” he said before Melissa could protest again. “It’s also your speeding around town and on Lakeshore Drive. And you swearing at the tourists you don’t like and telling some of them to leave town. You’re getting to be bad for business.”

“Tough,” she grumbled.

“I’m asking you, as your cousin and friend, to get control of whatever is driving you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, “Please, Mel.”

She shrugged the hand off. “Our family started this town.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“It should still mean something.”

“It does. But it isn’t enough to keep the council turning a blind eye. They’re talking of banning you from town.”

Melissa walked around the sheriff and yanked open the truck door. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t need a baby-sitting, Scooter.”

“No, but you do have a wife that needs you.” The pickup’s engine roaring to life was his only response. He blew out a long breath. “What demon has got a hold of you, Mel?” he asked after she backed away from the front of the Beachcomber and drove away.

#

CHAPTER FIVE

“I called the body shop in Hamilton. They said if I came in first thing, they could probably have it taken care of by the end of the day.” Melissa didn’t need to look to know how Dillon was responding to the news. They were sitting in a booth in the Lakeside Café sharing an early breakfast.

“Mel, we have plans,” Dillon said quietly, realizing their planned weekend camping trip was not going to happen. “I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“We can do it next weekend.”

“I can’t closed the shop next weekend. It’s the start of the summer season.”

“What do you want me to do? Drive around with ‘slut’ scratched across the hood all summer?” Unlike her wife’s quiet tone, Melissa’s voice was rising. “That would do wonders for the town’s reputation.”

“I’m not asking you to wait until the end of summer. But can’t you wait until after. We’ll be back in the woods the next few days. No one will see it but us.”

“I’m going to Hamilton today. Its bad enough I have to drive forty miles with it plastered across the hood.” Dillon remained silent, her disappointment clearly etched on her face. “Why don’t you go to the campsite and I’ll come up when I get back. I should be there tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Dillon shook her head. “There’s no point to doing that.”

“You don’t think I’ll show up, do you?”

“Will you?”

“You’ve already made up your mind not to believe me so why bother asking?”

Dillon looked at her wife trying to read what was behind the eyes glaring back at her. Melissa finished off the coffee in her cup before slamming it down on the table and scooting out of the booth.

“Mel…”

“What?” She barked the word at her wife.

“Be safe.”

Melissa paused long enough to take a deep calming breath. It wasn’t Dillon’s fault things were so screwed up. Was it? Wasn’t it? “I will.” She leaned over and placed a tender kiss on her wife’s forehead. “Go up to the campsite. I’ll meet you there. I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dillon watched Melissa leave the café and walk to her truck. Within moments, she drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway.

Julie had watched and listened to the exchange from her table on the opposite side of the café. She muttered to herself as she pulled enough money out of her purse to pay her bill.

“Is something wrong with your breakfast?” the waitress asked, unable to understand what her customer was mumbling.

“No. It was delicious.” She handed the waitress the check and payment. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you, ma’am. Will you be back later for lunch?” the waitress asked while she attempted to mentally calculate the amount of the generous tip.

“No. I’m leaving this morning.”

“That’s too bad,” she said sincerely. There weren’t many who tipped as well as this customer did. “It’s going to be a nice day. Too bad you can’t stay and enjoy it on the lake.”

She smiled. “Yes, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll take a short walk along the shore before I go since I’m not in any hurry.” She stood and walked toward the door. “Dillon?” she asked when she passed the booth and saw the look on the writer’s face. “Goodness, you look like you lost your best friend.”

Dillon slipped out of the booth before reaching into her pocket for her wallet. She checked the ticket then placed enough money on the table to cover their breakfasts and the tip. “I think I have,” she said as she turned away from Julie and left the building.

“It’s a crime how she treats Dillon.”

“I’m sorry?” The waitress looked up from the table she was setting. “Did you say something?”

Julie smiled innocently and shook her head. “No. Have a nice day.”

“You too,” she said returning to her chore but she kept an eye on the woman as she left. “That’s a strange one,” she muttered when the door closed leaving her alone.

#

“Looks like you finally screwed with the wrong person.”

Melissa frowned at the smirking woman dropping uninvited into the chair opposite her. “Nice to see you again too, Angie.” After leaving her truck at the body shop, she had walked to a book store a few blocks away hoping to spend a few hours catching up on the latest photography magazines. Instead, she was confronted with one of her conquests.

“At first, I wasn’t sure that was your truck. But when I got closer and saw… Well I must say it’s nice to see you’re actually advertising your true nature. Although, I do think you would have done better to have it professionally painted. Or did your wife do it?”

“Give it a rest.”

“So are you going to tell me who had the gumption to do what I’ve been considering for weeks?”

“I don’t know. It could have been anyone. Even you.” Melissa returned to her reading.

Angie shook her head. “Tell me why Dillon hasn’t kicked your ass down the highway by now. Damn, do you know how lucky you are? Anyone else would have sent you packing months ago but, for whatever reason, she continues to believe in you.”

Melissa raised her eyes to peer over the top of the magazine at her unwanted companion. “Hardly.”

“Not only are you a slut but you’re a dumb slut.” Angie leaned forward so she wouldn’t be overheard by a couple of women perusing the shelves of books behind them. “If she didn’t, you’d be history. Most women would give their first born to have a woman like Dillon. You’re ruining a hell of a good thing.”

“What if I am?”

Angie shrugged and dropped back into the overstuffed chair. “It’s your life.” She watched Melissa who was doing a poor job of acting like she was reading.

“You planning on staring at me all day?”

“Just wondering?”

“What?”

“I’ve got a few hours to kill. And you’ve obviously got nowhere to be. So, what say—“

“No.”

“How long do you plan on making her pay?”

“What?”

“It’s too bad you couldn’t have enjoyed her success and let her do the same.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Angie pushed herself up out of the chair. “You know, you’d do everyone a favor if you’d just admit you’re doing this as some sort of payback.”

Melissa rolled the observation around in her head as she watched Angie walk away. Why am I acting like such a fool? Am I doing this to get even? She keeps asking me to talk to her. Why don’t I? What am I afraid of? Angie is right about one thing, anyone else would have booted me out a long time ago. Why hasn’t Dil? The answer came to her almost as soon as she thought of the question. Because she still loves me. She tossed the magazine onto the floor. “And I still love her.”

#

Melissa glanced at the dashboard clock. It was mid-afternoon and she was less than fifteen miles from Lake Como. A quick stop at the house and she could be at the campsite before dark. Luckily, it had been a slow day for the body shop and the repairs were finished shortly after noon. She had paid the bill and drove her truck out of the work bay before the newly applied coat of paint had a chance to dry. She knew the fresh finish would most likely be ruined by dirt and other windblown debris on her drive home but she didn’t care. It was time she and Dillon talked. And she wasn’t willing to let another single wasted minute go by until that happened.

She eased off the accelerator as the truck approached a series of sharp turns and was half way around the second curve when she saw the car. It was well over the center line and headed straight for her. “Get over,” she screamed. The mountain highway had no shoulder and Melissa didn’t think she could avoid the car without crashing into the trees that crowded close to the road. “Damn it. Move over,” she screamed at the other driver who seemed to be making no attempt to return to the proper side of the highway.

Melissa jammed the accelerator to the floor hoping to race past the other car before it made contact. She steered the truck as close to the edge of the road as she could. “Please,” she begged the truck to cooperate. She thought she was past any danger when the other car veered just before it crashed into the truck’s side. But just as she began to relax her death grip on the steering wheel she felt the front tire drop off the road’s hard surface onto much softer ground. “Oh, shit!”

The drag created by the tire sinking into the dirt set the pickup into a spin. Melissa felt the passenger side of the truck begin to lift off the ground. She pressed both feet on the brake pedal trying to kill some of the truck’s momentum before it rolled completely over. But it was too late. She had been moving too fast and the road was too narrow. All she could do was hold on and pray as the she listened to the squeal of the tires and the horrible screeching of crumbling metal.

The pickup skidded across the highway coming to rest on its side with the top of the cab smashed against the trunk of a tree.

#

“Hey, are you okay?”

She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting in the road when the car pulled to a stop a few feet from her and a man got out. The truck’s windshield had shattered in the crash and Melissa had crawled through what was left of it. On shaky legs, she moved clear of the twisted wreckage not wanting to be close if the engine caught fire. When she reached what she considered to be a safe distance she’d collapsed to the ground, her whole body shaking uncontrollable. “No,” she said, her voice quaking. “Could you call the sheriff?”

“Phone won’t work here,” the man said kneeling beside her. “Maybe I should drive you into Hamilton. You look like you need a doctor.”

“No. Please, I can’t go there. Can you go get Scooter? Tell him…” Tears started to pour from her eyes. “Tell him I need to get to Dillon. I don’t want her to think…”

“You’re not making any sense. I can’t leave you here.”

“Please. Dillon won’t believe… She’s…”

A second car pulled to a stop on the highway. “Shit. What happened?” A young man eyed the wreckage as he approached them.

“I’m not sure. I need you into go to Lake Como and get the sheriff. Tell him we need a tow truck and an ambulance.”

“No. No ambulance. I’m not going to Hamilton.”

“Tell the sheriff she must have taken a hit to the head,” he called to the young man who was already seated back in his car. “I’ve got some blankets. Let me get them and you can lie down,” he said after the other car left. When he received no response, he stood and walked to his car. Opening the trunk, he removed a pair of blankets and a first aid kit. Not that he thought it had what the woman needed but he could at least try to clean up some of her more seriously bleeding cuts. “Are you hurt?” he asked spreading the blankets on the road beside her. “I mean other than the obvious cuts?”

“I think my arm is broken.”

“I thought so too.” He had noted the odd angle her right arm was twisted in. “Anything else?” When he tried to ease her back onto the blankets, she slapped away his hands with her good one.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“It’s going to be a while before anyone gets here. You should try to calm down.”

“Calm down!” She glared at him. “Some lunatic just drove me off the road. And now my wife will never believe I was going to keep my promise. And you tell me to…” Melissa clutched at her head. “Oh, shit. I think I’m gonna… Oh, not good,” she moaned as the trees began to spin around her.

“Close your eyes and lay back.” The man placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her back onto the blanket. “We could use some water.”

“I’ve had a gallon jug on the floor of the cab.” She groaned. “If it’s still in one piece.”

“I’ll check.” He left Melissa and walked to the wreck. Broken glass crunched under his boots as he peered through the opening left by the missing windshield and saw the plastic jug. It was a long stretch but he managed to reach into the cab and retrieve it. He returned to Melissa and tore a corner of blanket free then poured water over it. Gingerly, he placed the damp cloth on her forehead. Then opening a package of gauze, he wet it and used it to wipe her face clear of blood and dirt.

“Ow,” she cried out when the gauze came into contact with a growing bruise. “Damn, that hurts. Try to miss the owies, will ya?”

He grinned at her childish comment. “Sorry. That’s a little hard to do.”

“That bad?”

He silently inventoried the numerous cuts and bruises that he could see. “It’s not too bad. But it ain’t exactly good either. Hope you don’t have anyplace special to be in the near future.”

“There is one.”

“Important?”

“I guess you could say that. I was hoping to save my marriage.”

“Damn.” He poured more water on the piece of blanket and returned to his work.

#

The scream of a siren announced the arrival of Lake Como’s sheriff at the accident scene.

Scooter ran to his cousin’s side. “Damn it, Mel, what happened?”

Not bothering to answer the question, Melissa grabbed the sheriff’s arm. “You’ve got to send someone to find Dillon.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s out at our campsite, the one by the waterfall. She’s expecting me to show up there. You’ve got to let her know why I can’t. You’ve got to.”

“Dillon’s not at any campsite.”

“Yes, she is. We were supposed to go together. You know we always go camping the last weekend before tourist season. Stupid me, I decide I have to get the damn truck taken care of instead. But I told her I’d meet her there tonight. You’ve got to send someone—”

“Mel, Dillon’s at the shop. I saw her sweeping the walkway when I headed up here.”

“She didn’t go?” Melissa asked in a soft voice. “She didn’t believe me.”

“Do you blame her?”

“I love her. I was going back to tell her that.”

“Is that what happened? Did you lose control?”

“She said something about another car forcing her off the road,” the man informed the sheriff.

“I’m sorry, you are?”

“Don Cameron,” he told the officer. “I don’t know how long after the accident I came by but I did pass a sedan heading the opposite way. “Didn’t notice any damage on it but wasn’t really looking.”

“Thanks, Mr. Cameron. Let’s get Mel taken care of then you can give me the details. Ambulance should be here soon.”

#

CHAPTER SIX

“Why do they make these beds so damn uncomfortable?” Melissa grumbled to the emergency room nurse. Despite the stiff mattress that barely softened the hard surface of the metal bed, she had been drifting in and out of sleep while the emergency room doctor decided what was to be done with her. Her right arm was encased in a soft cast from just below the elbow to almost the tips of her fingers and her body was plastered with gauze and bandages covering her numerous cuts and abrasions. “Can I get another blanket? It’s freezing in here.”

“Sure.” The nurse finished checking the readings on the various machines monitoring the patient before leaving to retrieve the requested blanket.

The sheriff walked into the room as the nurse left.

Melissa looked up hopefully. “Can I go home now?”

Scooter smiled sadly and shook his head. “They’re getting ready to move you to a room upstairs.”

“I want to go home.”

He patted her leg “I know. But the doc wants you to stay overnight so they can keep an eye on your head.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my head.”

He eyed her cynically.

“I was going to fix that,” she said dejectedly. “Now she’ll never believe me.”

“I’m looking for Melissa Dyne. I was told she was brought here after a car accident.” The familiar voice floated into the room from the other side of the door. Seconds later, the door to Melissa’s room opened and Dillon rushed inside. “Melissa! Oh, my god. Are you okay?” She rushed to her wife’s bedside. “Honey, what happened?” She wanted to wrap the woman up in her arms but with all the bandages she was afraid to touch her.

Melissa could hardly see her wife through the tears flowing from her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I was trying to get back. I really was. I was going to meet you at the campsite. I really was—”

“Hush,” Dillon ordered then placed a tender kiss on her lips. “We can talk about that later. Right now, I want to know how you are. And what the hell happened?” She turned to the sheriff as she asked the last question. “I saw the wreck on the way here. Did someone hit her? Have you arrested them yet?”

“Slow down. From what she says, there was another car but it didn’t actually hit her. Seems the other driver must not have been paying attention and drifted over the center line. Mel tried to avoid them but her tires dropped off the pavement. She had no place to go but upside down and into the trees. I’ve put out a bulletin with the sketchy description Mr. Cameron gave us. Mel wasn’t much help filling in the blanks.”

“I was a little too busy at the time to take notes.”

Softening her features, Dillon turned back to her wife. “Are you okay?”

A white-coated man walked into the room. Hearing the question, he said, “Broken wrist, slight concussion, cuts, bruises, and contusions. All in all, I’d said she was pretty lucky. I’m Doctor Hayes. You are?”

“Dillon Carson.”

“Family?”

“My wife,” Melissa answered when Dillon hesitated. She understood her wife’s hesitancy— being gay wasn’t always accepted in a small Montana town.