Chapter Seven #2
“How long ago?”
“Six weeks.”
“Are you getting physical therapy?”
Instead of answering, Paul lumbered to his feet and shoved his bare feet into dock shoes.
He held his cowboy hat in one hand. His wet shorts dripped water down his shins, plastering dark leg hair against tanned skin.
She noted that his chest was smooth, other than a few whorls of hair around his nipples.
He was lean and hard-muscled, without an ounce of extra flesh.
“I already told you I’m not interested in your services, whatever they are.
You’re wasting your time with your sad stories and suggestive hot dog eating. ”
Vanessa sputtered with indignation. “Suggestive hot dog eating?”
“Your daddy issues are not my problem,” he said, and walked away.
She watched him stroll down the dock. If looks could kill, his retreating form would have burst into flames.
When he’d disappeared from sight, she collected what was left of her pride and returned to the picnic table.
Jackson was getting ready to roast marshmallows.
He’d found two long sticks, and stoked the coals back to life.
“How did it go?” he asked, his mouth quirking.
“Shut up,” she said.
Jackson burst into laughter, but didn’t ask any more questions.
She didn’t tell him about Paul’s mysterious wound or his insulting comments.
Suggestive hot dog eating, her ass. She couldn’t believe he’d said that.
Seething with irritation, she poked a stick through a marshmallow with more force than necessary.
“You’ll be happier at the campground,” Jackson said.
Vanessa watched her marshmallow catch fire. She let it burn, imagining Paul’s face. “I’m ready when you are.”
After they finished the s’mores, Vanessa packed up their things for the short journey to the campground.
She drove away from the cabins in defeat.
When they arrived, she cruised through the campground slowly.
There were spaces for tent camping spread out in a wide half-circle around the recreation center.
About a third of the campsites were occupied, which left plenty to choose from.
“I like this one,” Emily said. “It has good trees.”
Vanessa pulled over to inspect the site, which had a nice picnic table and several trees offering shade and privacy. The restroom was nearby, along with a small playground. Someone had abandoned a stack of wood by the fire pit, so that was a bonus. The space appeared clean, quiet, and rustic.
Was it her dream cabin? No, but they could make do.
“Perfect,” Vanessa said brightly.
Jackson, who’d parked next to her, brought out the tent and bedding.
Vanessa helped him set it up while Emily played on her tablet.
At least they had Wi-Fi. They would sleep in relative comfort tonight.
Emily went inside the tent with her tablet.
It had been a long day, but it was still early evening. They had hours left before bedtime.
Vanessa sat down at the picnic table with Jackson. He’d brought a bug lamp. They watched insects get zapped in companionable silence.
“What kind of trouble are you in?” Jackson asked quietly.
She gave him a sharp glance. “I’m not in trouble.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
She sighed, shaking her head. Jackson had a nose for deception. “Bennett is under investigation.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”
“I was contacted by law enforcement.”
“Which agency?”
“Special Investigations. They’re looking into his finances. Money laundering.”
Jackson didn’t seem surprised. When she’d filed for divorce, she’d told Jackson about Bennett’s gambling problem, and how he’d lost everything they owned. Becoming a white-collar criminal was well within Bennett’s skill set. He was a liar and a cheat on every level. “Did you give them information?”
“No. I promised Bennett I’d stay quiet as long as he didn’t fight me for custody or object to us moving out of state.”
Jackson rose from the table, his brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Vanessa couldn’t answer this question. She’d been ashamed of herself for getting duped by Bennett, and shocked by his downward spiral. She hadn’t wanted to face the truth—or her father’s judgment.
“Does he owe people money?” Jackson asked.
“Of course he does, but it’s not my problem. We’re divorced, and he lives in Denver.”
“Did you feel unsafe in Denver?”
“No. I felt cold, and sad, and angry.”
Jackson studied the tree-lined campground, as if checking for threats.
Her brother had been her protector and confidant throughout their childhood.
Even at a young age, he’d stood up to other boys to defend her honor.
When he was sixteen, he’d grown six inches taller than her, and he’d become a force to be reckoned with in their neighborhood.
He would always be her little brother, but he hadn’t been little in a long time.
“I’ll camp with you,” Jackson said.
“Don’t be silly. You have to work tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do,” she said. “We’re fine. This is a family campground, not the remote wilderness. The worst that can happen is a mosquito bite.”
Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not going to stay here all summer. You’ll get tired of camping in two days, tops. You’ll have to choose between Dad’s house and another vacation spot.”
Vanessa was annoyed with his high-handed attitude.
She didn’t let anyone tell her what to do, Jackson included, but arguing with him wouldn’t help.
Arguing with Paul hadn’t helped, either.
She considered his prickly reaction to her on the boat dock.
He’d acted like a bear with a thorn in his paw—or a man with secrets.
He’d refused to answer basic questions about his injury. She wondered what else he was hiding.
Jackson hung around for another hour, his mood more subdued than usual.
Vanessa knew he thought she should reconcile with their father.
Paul’s harsh words on the topic still rankled.
She resented his opinion, and the way he’d delivered it left a lot to be desired.
She resented her brother for his unspoken agreement with Paul.
She resented her father, and Bennett, and men in general.
As soon as Jackson left, Vanessa took Emily for a final trip to the restroom. They washed up and brushed their teeth. When they returned to the campsite, Emily stopped in her tracks and let out a cry of distress.
“I forgot Penelope!” she wailed.
“Where did you leave her?” Vanessa asked.
“I don’t know.”
Vanessa searched her vehicle for the doll, to no avail. Penelope was Emily’s favorite toy and constant companion. Emily would not go to sleep without her.
“I think she’s at the other table,” Emily said.
“By the cabin?”
Emily nodded tearfully.
Vanessa didn’t want to deal with a full-blown temper tantrum, so she grabbed the flashlight and loaded Emily in the car.
She drove toward the cabin, where Paul’s porchlight illuminated the space.
Vanessa hoped he wasn’t prowling around in the dark like he had been the night before.
She shivered at the thought as she pulled into the open space.
They exited the vehicle and continued around the side of the cabin, toward the picnic area.
Luckily, Penelope was easy to find. Her bright yellow hair glinted beneath the picnic table.
Vanessa grabbed the doll and dusted her off.
They were returning to the car when she heard the screen door open with such force it slammed against the side of the cabin. She bristled in anticipation of another confrontation. Maybe Paul had some more cutting remarks to deliver.
Bring it on.
She watched him rush forward with one hand clutched over his heart.