Private Lives

He put Jack in his SUV and drove to Marge’s house. “Well, don’t you look good,” Marge said, opening the back screen door and coming out to greet him.

He hugged her. “You’re the one. Where’s Bob?”

“Come on in. Bob just brought in some pike he caught in the big lake over in Sabael. I cleaned a couple for you. Sit down. Bob’s in the shower.”

“Have you met my neighbor?” he asked Marge, getting around to the real reason for his agreeing to come to her house.

“Allison? We’ve met, but she stays to herself. The only reason I know her name is because I work for the telephone company. She’ll go up there to the office and pay her bill, but she’s yet to introduce anybody to her child. That little boy of hers must be suffering for somebody to play with. He ought to have playmates. I suggested to her that he’d meet some children in Sunday school, but I coulda been talking to the wind.”

“Is her husband with her?”

“If he is, nobody up here’s seen him. Be careful where you step, son. She’s a real looker and she’s got good manners, but she’s as tight as a drum.”

“Why do you think I’m interested?”

Marge threw back her head and released a guffaw. “’Cause you’re a young, healthy man with plenty of testosterone. That’s why. Here. Try these.” She put three hot biscuits on a plate along with butter and homemade jam.

He bit into a biscuit. “You’re still rockin’, Marge. I could make a meal of these. Why do you think my neighbor shies away from people?”

“You asking me? Why would a young, attractive woman move up here and hide away in the woods with a five-year-old? Every man in Indian Lake has asked me about her.”

“How long has she been up here?”

“Since late April. It was still snowing when she got here. Nobody moves here that time of year. People come in the summer.”

“I know. Thanks for the goodies and for my fish. Come over and pick some raspberries. They’re ready to fall off the bushes.”

“I’ll send Bob over. Thanks.” He bade her goodbye and headed home. Something told him he’d better stop thinking about that woman. He slowed his SUV as he passed her cabin, saw a light and shook his head. Maybe when he got to know her, and he would, he’d discover that she wasn’t an enigma at all.

On Sunday morning he jumped out of bed, startled by Jack’s barking, and ran to the back door. He looked out and saw a long-antlered deer at his back fence. He dressed, went outside, tossed a few pebbles at the deer and chased it away. Deciding to go for a walk, he put a leash on Jack and headed up a trail leading to a small lake about a mile from the highway. What on earth? He reached down and rubbed Jack’s back. What was this kid doing alone on a trail in the woods?

“Hi. Are you lost?” he asked as the boy got nearer.

“I don’t know. I was looking for your dog. I wanted to play with him.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “Did you ask your mother?”

“No, sir. She’d say no. But you said he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s right. I did. What’s your name?”

“Dudley.”

“Well, Dudley, I’d better introduce you to Jack properly. Give me your hands.” He let Jack smell the boy’s hands. “Now pat him gently on the head. You see. He’s wagging his tail and that means he’s friendly. Whenever a dog’s tail is sticking straight up and not moving, that means the dog is probably dangerous and you shouldn’t go near him. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Jack isn’t dangerous ’cause he’s wagging his tail.”

“Dudley, what are you doing here? Where have you been?”

If he’d ever heard the sound of panic, that was it. The woman charged toward them, with tears streaming down her face, and grabbed her son. Jack’s growl startled her and she jumped back.

“Easy, boy.” He rubbed Jack’s back. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but my dog just made friends with Dudley and he’s trying to protect the boy from you. The dog doesn’t know you. Would you mind holding out your hands?”

She stared at him. “It’s all right, Mommie. Jack wants to be friends. His tail isn’t sticking up, so he won’t hurt you.” She allowed the dog to sniff her hands and then patted him on the head as Brock suggested. Then Brock lifted Dudley and placed the boy in her arms. She hugged him, but put him down at once because of his weight.

“I thought I’d go crazy. I didn’t know where he was.”

“I was looking for Jack,” Dudley said. “I wanted to play with him.”

“Don’t do this again,” Brock said to the boy, now convinced that the woman was a single mother. “Jack just chased a big deer away from my back fence. All kinds of wild animals live in these woods, Dudley, and they’ll hurt you.” He looked at her, frightened and vulnerable, and it took a lot of willpower to resist taking her in his arms and comforting her. “You’ve never told me your name.” He sounded so cool that he almost laughed at himself.

“It’s Allison Sawyer,” Dudley said, “and we live in that red house up there.”

Allison didn’t have to be told that the expression on her face when she looked at Dudley was not what anyone would describe as motherly. “How are you, Mr. Lightner? Thank you for intercepting Dudley.” She wanted to kick herself. She had inadvertently let him know that she’d remembered his name.

“How did he get out of the house without your knowing it? And if I may say so, you ought to keep your fence locked. Some of the animals around here, bears included, will come right up to your door if they smell food.”

Dudley took a few steps closer to Brock and looked up at him. “I turned the lock and opened the door.”

Allison could see that Dudley had jettisoned her plan to avoid Brock Lightner and she didn’t know what she could do about it. The man gazed down at her intently, as if he were testing the water before diving into it.

“Don’t you think you should change the lock on that door? If he can get out so easily, someone may get in just as easily.”

The man’s eyes seemed to suck her in like quicksand. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t stop looking at him? “That’s…I’ll see if someone up at the general store can fix it for me,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. “Thanks for your kindness. Come along, Dudley.”

“But, Mommie!”

“Did you hear me? I said come on.” She didn’t look at Brock Lightner because she knew he was judging her, and unfairly, too. But she had to protect her son and she didn’t know the man or his reason for being in Indian Lake. Dudley poked out his bottom lip and prepared to cry. But she ignored that, grabbed his hand with more force that she’d intended and turned to head up the road. She noticed that Brock tightened his hold on the dog’s leash and stopped.

“I thought you said he isn’t dangerous.”

“He isn’t right now, but he’s agitated because Dudley’s crying and you pulled him a little roughly. Jack has established a bond with Dudley.”

“Believe me, Dudley can test a saint when he puts himself to it. Goodbye.”

“Can we pick some raspberries, Mommie?”

“No, Dudley. We are going home. I have a lot of work to do.”

Later she put Dudley on a stool in her kitchen and looked him in the eye. “You did a very bad and very dangerous thing when you sneaked out and wandered into those woods. You heard what Mr. Lightner said about the wild animals. They can hurt you very badly. If you ever do that again, I am going to lock you in your room. Do you understand?”

The boy reached up and pinched her chin. “You ate some ginger snaps, Mommie. There’s a little piece right there.”

She stared at him for a second. He giggled, having learned how to charm his way out of trouble and, even though she knew he was trying to snow her, she laughed and hugged him. She couldn’t help it. He was the delight of her life. The ringing of the telephone saved her from further disciplining him.

“Hello.” She never identified herself when answering the telephone.

“Allison? This is Layla. How’s that rewrite coming?”