Chapter Ten
W atching Everett play guitar without his band made Jeannie melt into a puddle of gooey maple syrup. She knew he had a good voice, but hearing it on its own, with only his guitar and without the backup vocals or drums, was an irresistible treat. She could have listened to him play all night.
How could she have been so dismissive of him being a musician? It was obviously a true talent, and so what if he shared that talent at a corner pub instead of Carnegie Hall?
She felt a pang of remorse for looking down on him as though it weren’t honest work and a respectable way to earn a living, especially given what he’d been through in his life.
While her family was busy getting changed for movie night, she slipped away and grabbed her jacket. She wanted more time alone with Everett.
Unfortunately, Duke was also outside enjoying his once-a-year cigar, and he and Everett were in conversation midway down the driveway. Jeannie stayed back in the shadow under the porch awning, listening quietly.
“What did you say your last name was?” asked Duke.
“McCarthy,” Everett responded.
“Everett McCarthy,” Duke said. “It’s the darndest thing, but that name sounds familiar.”
“Huh,” Everett said. “Maybe you’re prescient or something. You’ve been into the future when I’m a famous rock musician.”
Duke chuckled, and Jeannie smiled to herself. He had the talent; that was for sure. And he definitely had the looks and charisma. But there was something private about him too, and Jeannie couldn’t see him being someone to enjoy all the trappings of fame that came along with that.
The door swung open behind her, and Jeannie jumped. “What are you doing out here all alone?” Sue asked.
“Just getting a breath of fresh air,” Jeannie said.
“Ugh,” said Sue, waving the air in front of her and craning her neck to see where her husband was. “I hate it when he smokes these things. Duke! Erik’s on the phone! He has some news he wants to share with you!” She looked at Jeannie. “Now get inside, you. We don’t need you spending the rest of your vacation with a cold.”
Jeannie followed Sue inside. “I saved you a seat here, honey, so you can rub my feet during the movie,” Gloria called from the couch located in the den at the far end of the great room.
“Lucky me,” Jeannie said.
She didn’t want to watch the movie. She wanted to go back outside and find Everett, but didn’t know how to get out of movie night.
A minute later, Grandpa returned to the great room. “It’s a girl!” he shouted, and everyone cheered.
A Christmas baby. How lovely. So, the party hadn’t gone as expected. They’d lost the game. But dinner had been excellent, and they had happy news to celebrate.
Everett’s words about her family echoed in her mind. She was lucky. So what if not everything had gone according to plan? She would settle in with her family for the last big movie night at the lodge and be present with them.
By the time the movie ended, Jeannie still hadn’t seen Everett return indoors. Had CAA arrived and fixed the car? She’d be surprised if he’d left without saying goodbye. Maybe he’d come through the side entrance and slipped into his room with no one noticing. It had been a lot of Carmichael time that day, so she wouldn’t blame him, but Jeannie couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed he hadn’t even said goodnight.
After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Jeannie peered out her second-floor bedroom window. In the darkness, the only thing visible were the three firepits. Two of the three were smouldering, but it appeared as though the one closest to the lake was being stoked by someone sitting in front of the dancing flames. She squinted, trying to make out who it was.
Everett.
She checked her watch. It was almost midnight. Should she go down and talk to him? Or did he want to be alone? Christmas was obviously a challenging time for him.
However, something in his eyes at the party the evening before—when she’d first entered the great room in her dress—as well as the current of electricity that had hung thick in the air hours earlier told her that he might welcome her company.
Jeannie slipped down the back staircase to the mudroom and pulled on her long down jacket, a toque, and her snow boots, then crept to the kitchen and poured the remnants of the apple cider from the standing carafe into a thermos. She grabbed two tin mugs, then quietly made her way out the back door.
The sound of her boots crunching through the snow alerted Everett to her presence.
“Well, look who it is,” he said, his face lit up in the glow of the flames.
“How long have you been out here? It’s freezing,” she said. “I brought you some cider.”
“It’s comfortable by the fire,” he said, gesturing to the seat beside him. “And look,” he said. “We’ve got quite the show going.”
Jeannie looked up to see the faint green glow of the aurora borealis, something she hadn’t seen since she was a little girl.
She settled in the seat next to Everett and poured them both half a mug of cider, the cinnamon steam warming her face in the cold air.
“It’s magic,” Jeannie said. “Pure magic.”
“Well, technically it’s a solar wind that causes a stream of particles to penetrate the magnetic field of the earth, and those particles react with the gases in that field.”
Jeannie shot him a look. “What’s with you and all the science jargon?”
He grinned. “Sorry. We can go with magic .”
She examined his expression. “You were making that stuff up.”
Everett held his glove-covered hand up in the air. “Scout’s honor. And have you ever seen a Celestial Cascade? It’s like the northern lights on steroids.”
“I haven’t. What’s that?”
“Mother Nature’s greatest light show. Happens very rarely, and under very specific conditions. The sky gets all pink-and-purple streaked, and stars twinkle brightly enough that even the light pollution in the city can’t drown them out.”
She liked how he could explain something without sounding like a know-it-all. “You sure know a lot about astronomy. You said you were a Scout?”
Everett nodded. “I spent my childhood outside. Canoe trips on the Nahanni. Hiking the Columbia Icefield. Camping in Haida Gwaii. My Dad was a real adventurer. He brought me everywhere.”
“Huh,” she said. “So, that’s how you learned to wrangle giant angry animals?”
“I picked up a few things along the way.”
The fire crackled and popped as Everett poked it with a long stick. It lit up his features, and for the first time, in the flashes of light and shadow, Jeannie noticed faint dimples at the sides of his mouth when he smiled. It was nice having this time with him, alone, away from her mother’s prying eyes, without Lincoln hanging off her shoulder.
“So, what, are you going to sleep out here?” Jeannie asked. “It’s getting late.” She immediately wanted to take her words back in case he agreed and decided to retreat to his room. She felt both comfortable and nervous around him at the same time, like she’d known him forever, but cared a lot what he thought about her.
“We could,” he said. Jeannie noted the we , and a shiver of pleasure ran through her. “Have you ever built a quinzhee?”
“A what?” she asked.
“It’s kind of like an igloo, but you build a mound of snow and dig it out, with just a small hole to get in and out.”
“No, and I think I’m okay with that. I’m more of an Egyptian sheets and electric blanket kind of gal myself.” Which probably knocked her down a few pegs in his books, but there was no use pretending.
“Shame. It’s a great experience. You’d have to stay close, though.” His eyes flickered with mischief and desire. He was flirting with her. And she was lapping it up. “For warmth, I mean.”
She was warm. And it wasn’t just the crackling flames of the fire. She wished she had a witty quip, but instead she took a moment to indulge in the thought of Everett’s arms around her keeping her warm, an idea that sent a surge of pleasure through her body. “Did you grow up outside of the city?” she asked, the inane question all she could manage.
He grinned as if he knew full well he was getting under her skin and was loving it. “Nah, we lived close to the university. But my dad took me out any chance he got,” Everett said, a thin smile on his face. “I’ve always been tempted to move up this way, but there aren’t too many gigs available.”
“Have you ever thought about doing something else?” she asked. “I mean, for a job?” He seemed smart enough. And while he was undoubtedly a talented musician, was he really planning on a playing in a cover band for the rest of his life?
Stop judging , she reminded herself.
“I’ve got other stuff,” he said. “But it requires me to be in the city too.”
She waited. “Okay. Do I have to pry it out of you? Or is it like, if you told me you’d have to kill me?”
Everett scratched his neck. “Nah, nothing like that. I do some writing. Just some science stuff,” he said.
“Science stuff? Well, that explains why you sound like a textbook.” Now she was really intrigued. Everett wasn’t making it easy for her to pull back the layers, though.
“It’s pretty boring. Nothing glamorous and exciting like working at a law firm.”
“Ha!” Jeannie said. “I’m afraid my job is more dry and boring than you might think.” She gazed up at the faint green glow in the sky, more relaxed and open than she’d felt in a long time. “Sometimes I think I got into the wrong career. But I put so much time and effort into it that it feels too late to turn back. Seven years of university. And all the hours of overtime trying to prove myself. It’s been a slog. Plus, I don’t even know what else I’d do.”
“Well. What makes you the happiest?” Everett poked the fire with a long stick, sending a spray of sparks into the dark night air.
“Nothing I could make an income from.”
“Okay, put the money aside for a second. What’s something you could do every day of your life, something that would make you leap out of bed in the morning?”
She thought back to the other morning spent in the kitchen, how she’d lost all track of time while mixing and rolling and tipping beautiful creations onto cooling racks. “I’d bake,” she said. “Well, cook and bake. I love being in the kitchen.”
“You can make money doing that.”
“Sure. But—” She paused.
“Not enough money. You like your creature comforts.”
“Is there anything wrong with that?” He might think she was shallow, but she liked the feeling of bringing in a good paycheck for all the hard work she did. And it meant she could buy herself a nice pair of shoes or go for a great dinner with Margot whenever she wanted, which was important to her.
“Not at all.”
“Well, what about you? What would you do if money weren’t an object?”
“I’d walk in the woods.”
Jeannie burst out laughing. “So what, you’d pick up a hiking stick and just walk around alone in the trees aimlessly?”
“I don’t know why you’re laughing. We’re talking about the things that make us happy. That’s my happy place. The most wonderful place in the world. And I wouldn’t have to be alone.” He glanced over at her, a playful expression in his eyes. “You could come with me.”
The woods behind the Butterfly Lake Lodge were just about the most beautiful woods around as far as Jeannie was concerned, thick with lodgepole pine and whitebark, Douglas fir and trembling aspen. She was hit with a pang of regret knowing that soon those woods would belong to someone else. Jeannie took a deep breath in, and a rush of impulse overtook her. So she was more of an indoor person. She still knew the forest like the back of her hand, and she knew Everett would love it. She wanted to bring him there.
“Let’s go. Right now,” she said, feeling brave and reckless and turned on. “I’ll get some headlamps. I want to show you something.” Her parents had returned to their home, Sue and Duke were asleep, and the boarders had gone back to their rooms, so no one would miss them.
Everett raised an eyebrow. “You’ve just outed yourself as a princess. It’s the middle of the night. And it’s winter.” He looked her up and down. “What’s under your jacket? If it’s that sparkly red dress, I don’t think it’s going to be warm enough. And the snow’s pretty deep. Plus,” he said, “we only just met two days ago. Do you trust a stranger, all alone in the woods?”
She did, actually. Maybe it was unfounded, but she trusted him implicitly. And she wasn’t just a corporate city girl. “Come with me. We just have to be quiet.”