Chapter Twelve
T he morning fog had just about lifted, and the sun was starting to burn through the light hazy cloud cover overhead. The air was still, and the only sound down at the river was the gentle current rippling through the river rocks and the occasional burbling call of an American dipper, one of the only birds that stuck the course through the winter in the area.
It was the Monday after the wedding, and Jack had been sitting on a fallen-over log, waiting for the past twenty minutes for the rumble of Celeste’s Jeep down the path. In the meantime, he was enjoying the stillness and the warm coffee in his thermos.
When Celeste finally pulled into the small gravel lane toward the Bow River access, he stood up and went to greet her.
She rolled down the window and pulled off her sunglasses. “I’m okay to park here?” she asked. She was wearing a thick gray wool sweater and faded blue jeans, a light blue knit hat over her dark hair, which was loose around her shoulders. She was also wearing makeup, he noted, an unusual choice for a day on the river. But he wasn’t complaining. She looked dynamite.
“Yeah, just pull in over by my truck,” he said, then stood back as she did.
Celeste stepped out of her car and surveyed the area, then looked at Jack, an amused but slightly weary expression on her face. “Okay, teach,” she said, pulling an envelope from her pocket and holding it up. “Which one of my creations are we putting to work today?”
Jack chuckled. “Those are for you to keep. I brought a few that we won’t mind losing.” He indicated to the pile of gear he’d set up by the river. “We need to get you outfitted first.”
“Hold on,” Celeste said. She moved to the passenger side of her Jeep, where she deposited her envelope of flies made in class, and removed a small blue cooler, then joined him on the path.
“What’s that?” Jack said.
“In case we get hungry.” She opened the cooler to reveal an entire picnic tucked inside. “Turkey-and-sweet-onion-relish sandwiches, kale-and-Parmesan salad, and fresh-baked oatmeal cookies. Just in case.”
“You must be gunning for an A+,” he said, grinning. “Or trying to distract me from what we’re here to do.”
“Always,” said Celeste. “And never. All right, what do I do?”
Jack passed Celeste a pair of navy-blue waders that looked about her size. “Put these on,” he said. He smiled to himself as she inspected the waders, then struggled to keep her balance as she slid into the legs of the pants. He held out an arm, which she grasped on to.
“Thanks,” she said and stood up. “How do I look?”
She looked like someone he wanted to scoop up into his arms, carry over to the back of his truck, lay out a blanket, and spend a day under the sun with. Not many people could make fly-fishing waders look sexy. And yet there was Celeste, her green eyes sparkling and her hair cascading down the back of the suspenders like she was about to walk down a runway. “Like you stepped right out of the latest issue of American Angler ,” Jack said.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’ll pretend you just said Vogue .”
He inspected the fit. “May I?” he asked, indicating to the straps, which hung a bit loose and would likely slip off her shoulders. Celeste nodded, and he adjusted the length so that they fit snugly. “Here,” he said and clicked the waist fastener together, doing his best to avoid brushing his hands against her chest, even though there were many layers of fabric in between them. His mind flashed to the incredible silvery dress that had draped so perfectly over her body the other night, in a way that had made it impossible to prevent his gaze from grazing over her gorgeous figure several times over the course of the evening.
Celeste smiled, and the light of her expression made Jack’s stomach do a tumbling routine. “All right, let’s do this,” she said. “Wait.” She stuck her hand down the side of her waders, feeling around for something in her pocket. She pulled out her phone and passed it to him. “Can you take a photo of me? My dad won’t believe it unless he sees it.”
“Of course,” said Jack. He passed Celeste a fishing rod. “Here, hold this. Gotta look the part.”
He laughed to himself as he took a picture of her, holding the fishing rod so awkwardly and incorrectly. “Hold on a sec,” he said. He took her right hand and placed it on the handle, then angled the rod so that she wouldn’t poke her own eye out with the hook. “There. That’s better.” He paused for a moment before stepping back, a thick magnetic current almost begging him to stay as close as possible to Celeste. She cocked her head to the side, the delight in her eyes keeping him under her spell.
“Do I look authentic now?” she asked.
“Perfect,” he said. He meant it in every sense of the word.
The conditions were ideal for a beginner, and Jack had purposely chosen this part of the riverbed for the shallowness as well as the lightness of the current.
“It’s actually really pretty out here,” she said, following him into the river.
“You sound surprised,” said Jack. “Maybe you’re more outdoorsy than you thought.”
“I’m not not outdoorsy,” said Celeste. “I’m just more of a…domicile devotee.”
Jack couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “I like that. Okay, time to get you in touch with your inner ‘alfresco aficionado.’”
It was Celeste’s turn to laugh, and the way her eyes lit up made him fall for her even more in that moment.
He spent a few minutes showing her the basics and then letting her try a few casts on her own. It didn’t take long before Celeste had a tug on her line.
“You got one. Steady, steady now.” He helped her pull the line in, then cupped the small trout in his hands and held it out for her to inspect. It flopped in his hands a little.
“Poor thing,” said Celeste, frowning. She looked down at the trout. “I apologize. Let’s get you back out there.”
Jack gently dislodged the hook from the trout’s cheek. When he looked up, she was wincing. “He’ll be all right,” he said.
“I’m not sure I believe you that that doesn’t hurt them,” she said.
“Well, they’ve never told me otherwise.” He put the fish back into the water, and they watched as it disappeared in the current. “Want to try for another?”
“I’m good!” said Celeste. “Let’s just end on a high note.”
Jack chuckled. They’d been out on the river for less than twenty minutes. “Well, I didn’t expect to make a convert out of you.”
He motioned for her to go first toward the riverbed, then waded behind her. They approached some fallen logs that would do well for a seat and almost collided when Celeste stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
“You’re not just a good teacher in the classroom,” she said. “I think things are going to pick up for you soon,” she said.
He was about to answer when the obnoxious and unmistakable sound of a Hummer engine growled to a halt over where they’d parked. Jack looked over to find Forrest pulling right up next to his truck. He’d gotten his vehicle wrapped with his company logo, with a matching trailer for his gear. “Not if this guy has anything to do with it.”
“Who’s that?”
“You haven’t heard of Forrest Halpern?” Jack said. “I guess you’re not spending enough time with the riffraff around here.”
“Is he a Halpern Halpern?” Celeste said.
“Yup,” said Jack. “Not sure he inherited any of his family’s brains, though.”
They watched as Forrest hopped out of the Hummer, a wide smile on his face. It looked like he was growing out the scruff on his face, but it didn’t help him look any older. “Beauty day!” he called, then approached where they were standing.
“Forrest,” said Jack. Screw off , he wanted to add.
Forrest extended his hand to Celeste. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around town,” he said. “I would have remembered. I’m Forrest.”
Jack fought back the urge to clock the cocky SOB.
“Celeste,” she said and shook his hand. “You run tours out of this area too?”
“I’m starting to,” Forrest said. “Are you looking for a guide?”
Jack gritted his teeth as he zeroed in on the perfect spot to land a sharp uppercut to Forrest’s jaw.
“I’m all set,” Celeste said, placing her hand on Jack’s arm. The gesture cooled him just enough to keep him from doing something stupid.
Forrest looked at Jack and raised an eyebrow. “Private lessons, eh, Wallace? I’ll have to give that a go.” He looked back at Celeste and dug a business card out of his vest. “I’ll pass this along, just in case. Or if you have any friends.”
Celeste looked sideways at Jack, a slight grin on her face that told him she was just humoring Forrest. “Thank you,” she said. She looked over at the Hummer. “That’s a whole lot of truck.”
“You know what they say,” Jack said. “Big truck—”
Forrest laughed. “You’re funny, man. Are you done out here? I’ve got a group coming by in a half an hour. We can share the space. Just let me know where you’re going to be. I’ll have to set up for photos.”
“You know, it’s bad form to intrude on a space someone else is using.”
“It’s public land. We both have licenses, right?”
Jack’s blood boiled. But he didn’t want to lose it in front of Celeste. He cared a lot what she thought about him. She was a consummate pro, and he was digging deep to stay calm. “We’re about done here,” he managed, through gritted teeth. “But this section of the river is where I take my groups. So, feel free to do your thing here today, but it’s good etiquette to stake your claim in your own spot.” He had to congratulate himself for how evenly that came out.
“All right,” said Forrest. “Thanks, Wallace.” Jack nodded to Celeste. Maybe they could move someplace else, even though he hated ceding his territory. “But, uh, Wallace,” Forrest continued. “I mean, you’re really only taking groups out, like, what, once a week now? Surely this prime spot shouldn’t go unused just because you don’t have bookings?”
Professionalism was no longer an option. Jack was going to kill this twerp.
“Jack’s going to have plenty of groups out here now that he’s working with my family’s business,” Celeste said.
Forrest raised an eyebrow. “Your family business? What’s that?”
“The Butterfly Lake Lodge,” she said, a hint of challenge in her voice.
“Nice place,” Forrest said. “A little old-timey, but some of my clients are into that. Happy to recommend it to them, if you want to pass my name along in return.”
Through his rage, Jack had to hand it to the kid. He knew how to network.
“Thanks,” Celeste said. “We’re pretty booked up for the time being, but that’s kind of you.” She reached out again and grabbed on to Jack’s bicep. “Let’s go,” she said. “I want to hear more about your time working in Argentina. It sounds incredible.”
It was obvious she was going over the top and that she wanted to pump him up in front of Forrest. But he was lapping up every second of it, especially when he noted the jealous glint in Forrest’s expression.
“See you around,” Jack said as they moved onto shore.
“Forrest Outfitters!” Forrest called from the river. “Don’t forget the name!”
Celeste took a hold of Jack’s arm as they walked toward the car. “That was some restraint you showed there, teach,” she said.
“You could tell?”
“There’s still smoke coming from your ears.” She fished the keys from her pocket. “I wasn’t kidding—I want to know more about your trips. Follow me to the lodge? We can sit out on the dock. I don’t want this lunch to go to waste.”
Jack swallowed, taking in Celeste’s playful expression and the way the sun had already made the light freckles on her nose come out. “Sure thing,” he said. All the annoyance and anger he’d felt from talking to Forrest had disappeared. He’d follow her anywhere.
*
The afternoon sun was warm, and a gentle breeze came off the water as they settled into the chairs at the edge of the lodge’s dock.
“Last class tonight,” Celeste said. “Think you’ll do it again?”
Jack considered. Now that he’d done it once, it would be a lot easier the second time around. And he was enjoying it more than he’d expected. “It won’t be as much fun without you there,” he said.
He watched as Celeste unpacked the picnic basket, and accepted the sandwich rolled up in brown butcher paper and the salad in a glass container. “Here,” she said and gave him cutlery rolled up in a cloth napkin.
She noticed him smiling at the striped napkin. “I don’t know why you think it’s so amusing,” she said.
“It’s not. I like it,” he said, then paused. “And I like you.”
Celeste was quiet. “So, you’re unattached?” she said.
“Yep,” said Jack. “Just me and Bodie these days.”
“And what was before ‘these days’?”
He considered. Did he really want to ruin the moment by talking about his ex? He glanced over at Celeste as she took a bite of her sandwich. She actually looked interested.
“My last girlfriend broke things off a couple years ago. I guess I wasn’t exciting enough for her.”
“What does that mean?” said Celeste.
“She said living here was too quiet, and I guess by extension I was boring too. But something tells me she was just thirsty for more drama in her life. She was always trying to pick fights. It wasn’t my thing.”
“Doesn’t seem like you were too broken up about her leaving,” Celeste said.
Jack chuckled to himself. Oh, he’d been broken up, a sad puppy dog. It was a version of himself he never wanted to meet again. “Let’s just say I learned something from the experience.” He took a bite of his sandwich, and as expected, it was perfect. Or maybe it was just the company and the setting. “This is incredible,” he said and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “And how about you? I find it hard to believe you’re single.”
“What do you mean, hard to believe? I’m a soon-to-be-unemployed thirty-something who basically lives with her parents.”
Jack gave her a look. “Okay, Ms. Dramatic. You know just as well as I do that you’re a ten. Smart, gorgeous, thoughtful, and fun.”
At his words, her expression shifted. “I haven’t really had time to date. My hours don’t really lend themselves to social time. So, after Matt and I broke up…”
“When was that?”
“Last summer. And I guess the correct expression is ‘after Matt left me.’”
“Complete idiot,” Jack said. “Certifiable.”
Celeste rolled her eyes, but a smile crossed her face. “What do you do when you’re not teaching?”
“Changing the subject?”
“There’s nothing else to say.”
“All right,” Jack said. “Well, I take Bodie on a couple of long walks each day. There’s always stuff to do around the house. I FaceTime with my brother and his wife and my niece.” He paused. “Now that I say it out loud, it’s no wonder Christine left me.”
Celeste grinned. “We’re just a couple of left-behinds, aren’t we?”
“Seems like it,” said Jack. A soft breeze came off the lake, blowing some strands of Celeste’s hair onto her face. He watched as she brushed them away, the sight of her pink nails making him smile.
“So, you walk, hang with your family,” she said.
“And I go out to my cabin now and then.” His cabin, a small structure his grandfather had built years ago, was on one of a very few privately owned small plots of land in the provincial park, and while Jack didn’t get out there too often, a flash of being there with Celeste entered his mind. The fire crackling, a great bottle of wine. No TV or internet, so plenty of time for other distractions.
“Where’s that? And what do you do there?”
“You know that blue painted rock at the turnoff to where I took the bachelor party?”
“Yeah,” said Celeste.
“That’s the beginning of the trail that leads to the cabin. It’s about a two-and-a-half-mile hike in.”
“What’s there to do there that you can’t do at your place?” she said.
Jack grinned. Being at the cabin with Celeste would be fun. Getting her there, however, might not be considered as enjoyable in her books. “It’s just nice to be somewhere different now and then. Change of scenery.”
“I can see that,” she said. She was quiet for a few moments. “I’ve been thinking lately that maybe the sale of the lodge is what I needed to move on. Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable here. I could use a change of scenery of my own.”
Another breeze rippled across the water, then the turquoise surface smoothed again, so clear you could see right to the lake’s bottom. Jack stole a glance at Celeste, whose bright green eyes held a warmth that delivered a jolt of desire. She was lying outstretched on the dock, propped up by her elbows. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave here, though,” he said. “It’s spectacular.”
“It truly is,” she replied softly. “Thanks for today. It was pretty great.”
“Glad you liked it,” said Jack. “See you down there again tomorrow?”
“I said pretty great,” Celeste said. “I can think of other ways I’d prefer to spend my time.”
“Oh, so can I.”
Celeste shot him a look, but she was still smiling. “Plus won’t I see you at class tonight?” She looked at her watch. “I’d better get inside, actually. I have a bunch of stuff to do beforehand.”
They packed up the basket, and Celeste walked Jack to his truck.
He’d see her again in a matter of hours, but somehow it wasn’t soon enough.
*
After doing spot checks on three of the rooms, Celeste went back to the office to review the upcoming check-ins for the afternoon. The third-floor turret was reserved for three nights by a single traveler who’d requested a late check-in. She’d upgrade him to a walk-out on the main floor. Another one of the main-floor suites would be occupied for two nights by a couple arriving from Boston, who had noted in their reservation details that they were celebrating a sixtieth birthday and had requested that Celeste make a full suite of dining reservations for them at a place in town and then the next night at the 1888 Chop House at the Banff Springs Hotel. She would make sure a bottle of prosecco and some chocolate-covered strawberries were awaiting them in the room.
And the last booking, a four-night stay for a group of three friends traveling together, was for the two adjoining rooms on the second floor with a partial water view and deep soaker tubs in each room. They’d noted in their reservations that one of the party had a serious nut allergy and also inquired about spa treatments in the area.
Celeste loved catering to each guest’s individual requests and always did her best to add an unexpected touch wherever possible. She would make sure that the breakfast buffet had a section that was clearly labeled nut-free and made a mental note to remind Jeannie to prepare those items separately from the rest of the pastries. They had a massage provider who would do on-site appointments. She usually reserved the stargazing room for this, since it wasn’t in use during the day.
When she checked her phone, she saw that there was a voicemail waiting for her.
“This is a message for Celeste McCarthy,” a reserved male voice sounded. “This is Stephan Jolliet from the Keystone Ridge Resort. We received your application, and we’d like to invite you for an interview on Thursday morning at nine a.m.” He continued with details about the location of the interview, but Celeste’s mind was whirling, and she had to save the message and replay it to note everything down.
When was the last time she’d interviewed for a job? When she’d applied to A Novel Idea, the independent bookstore in town, for a part-time job in twelfth grade?
She certainly hadn’t applied for her job at the lodge. What had started out as a last-minute replacement for Mrs. Hammond, who’d taken on operating the front desk five years after the lodge had opened and the administrative tasks had become too much for Jeannie and Everett. Mrs. Hammond’s twenty-one-year-old son and his girlfriend had found themselves in quite a predicament after they’d accidentally gotten pregnant—with twins, and Mrs. Hammond had moved to Surrey to be closer and to help them out.
Celeste had never seen herself working at the lodge. Her plan had been to travel with her friend Emily through Greece and Italy, and she had agreed to help out before and after in order to fund part of the trip, but when they’d found themselves without Mrs. Hammond right at their busiest time of year, Celeste had postponed her trip until her parents found a replacement.
The summer job, which had also helped pay her last year’s tuition at the University of Victoria, had extended into a full-time gig after graduation while she’d finished her applications to grad school. She’d been accepted to two different programs but had declined both offers, since Matt had wanted to stay in town, and she’d made the mistake of putting his wants and needs first. Luckily she enjoyed working at the lodge and figured she’d enroll in an online program at some point.
Now here she was, facing a terrifying job interview with no credentials and only four days to prep. She felt a tinge of guilt as she picked up her phone and texted Jack. “ Hate to do this, but can’t make it tonight ,” she typed. “ Interview Thursday. ” She added a fingers-crossed emoji, then tossed her phone onto the desk.
She’d felt confident and self-assured after pulling off such a successful wedding, ready to bask in the satisfaction of a job well done.
She was good. She knew she was good. Now all she could do was try to swallow the fear of being exposed as a fraud.