She could hardly talk she was laughing so hard. “I thought it was kindling.”
“Never took you for an arsonist.”
More laughter. The nest was currently an impressive conflagration. “Stop. Stop, I feel bad enough already.” Plus her stomach hurt from laughing.
“Do you now? I seem to remember you cheering for its demise—something about rabies.”
“It was like a room-sized edition of Whac-A-Mole.” That only brought more laughter.
Allie’s gaze drifted to Walter, still lying in the corner, only deigning to raise his head through the whole ruckus. “Some guard dog you are. Seriously, where did you get him?”
“At the pound. I wanted a laid-back dog.”
“Mission accomplished.”
They laughed again. Allie’s eyes burned and teared up. She wiped them. Man, it had been a long time since she’d laughed that hard. Her laughter gradually slowed, as did Luke’s.
Allie sank onto the bed. “Jeez Louise, that was exhausting.”
Luke gave her a playful look. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I opened the door,” Allie said defensively, then looked at the burning nest. “At least we have a fire.”
“There’s that.” Luke set the broom back in the corner. “I don’t suppose you packed some food. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
As soon as he finished the sentence, an offensive smell began spreading through the shack, growing stronger by the second.
Allie wrinkled her nose at Walter. “You are a disgusting animal.”
The dog rolled his bulging eyes her way, heaved a sigh, then closed his eyes again.
“Ugh!” As the smell permeated the room, she grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it. Luke’s laughter floated in the air like music, and she couldn’t stop her own from following.
Chapter 8
“Ho Hos? M&M’s? Twizzlers?” Luke gave Allie a wry look. They’d settled in front of the fire with a grocery sack full of food. “What are you, twelve?”
“I only planned for snacks, not meals.”
Since the raccoon fiasco, there was a lightness to the mood, to their exchanges. Allie seemed to have let go—at least temporarily—of The Grudge.
He was grateful for the reprieve. He surveyed the snacks and opted for the M&M’s—at least they had peanuts.
“I’m so hungry.” Allie bit into a Ho Ho, eyes closing as she relished the treat. She’d always had a sweet tooth.
The rain still pounded the roof, and it had grown dark. As if by mutual silent agreement, they’d settled in for the night. It wouldn’t be safe to navigate these flooded mountain roads at night.
Allie had changed from her wet clothes while he faced the corner and pretended not to think about what she was doing. She did the same for him—minus the pretending, he was sure. Their clothes now hung on a fishing line he’d found spooled in the corner.
They ate in congenial silence. He wasn’t sure what Allie was thinking about, but he was afraid to ruin their truce by saying the wrong thing. Truth was, that whole raccoon debacle had made him miss the old Allie.
He’d fallen for her so quickly. Those secret kisses they exchanged kept him warm during the lonely months at college. He thought of her constantly.
How had it all gone so wrong? He’d lost Allie for good—not just the romantic relationship but the friendship too. He missed them both in equal portions.
Allie’s water bottle crackled as she drank the last of it. “We should probably try to sleep so we can leave at first light.”
“Assuming the storm is over.”
“Right.”
They cleaned up their mess, stowing the garbage. He took Walter for one last walk, then when he returned Allie stepped outside to brush her teeth and (he assumed) take care of personal matters.
While she was gone he set out a water bowl for Walter, then spread his sleeping bag over the dirty mattress. After giving the corner a fresh sweep, he grabbed his duffel bag to use as a pillow and settled on the floor. The fire provided a little light, but it wouldn’t last much longer, and there was no dry wood available. Still, it shouldn’t get too chilly.
The door squeaked on the hinges as Allie returned. She shut it and locked it behind her, then headed toward the bed. “Rain’s slowed a little.”
“Hopefully it’ll be clear by morning.”
“Do you think the bridge will be passable?” She stopped by the bed. “Hey . . . you should use your sleeping bag. The floor must be cold and hard.”
“I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to sleep on that dirty mattress.”
“You sure?”
“It’ll be like camping.”
Allie huffed as she settled on the bed. “Yeah, on a jail cell floor. This place gives me the creeps.”
“At least my cell mate isn’t a murderer.”
“And my snacks beat jail food any day.”
They went quiet and the pattering on the tin roof blended with the snapping of the fire.
“Well . . .” The sleeping bag rustled as Allie turned toward the wall. “Good night.”
“Night.” Luke adjusted the duffel bag under his head and stared at the fire, already flickering low. When he closed his eyes the scene from earlier played back. The raccoon springing from the nest. Allie backpedaling so quickly she almost landed on her butt. Allie shrieking and squealing and cheering him on—from the safety of the bed, of course. Then the laughter, those half-moon eyes.
Good to know the old Allie was still alive and well. They’d had so much fun in their childhood days. She’d never been afraid to bait hooks or climb trees or pick up daddy longlegs. She wasn’t afraid of much of anything—except dogs.
And angry raccoons. His lips twitched as he rolled to his side. He needed some shut-eye. He tried to clear his mind and sink into oblivion, but no matter how hard he pursued sleep, it remained just out of reach. The wind blew and a distant thunder boomed.
He rolled to his other side and thought about the cabinet orders he had lined up back home. That also failed to put him to sleep. He thought about Allie’s family. He hoped they wouldn’t mind his unexpected appearance. They had invited him a few weeks ago, and they never seemed to mind having him around. But he wasn’t family, after all.
He thought of his mom. He talked to her every month or two when he called. She was doing all right. Still a functioning alcoholic, but Greg seemed to be treating her well. He had three grown children, and his mom seemed to have been absorbed into their family.
A while later Luke flipped onto his back. He stared at the grate where the fire had died to orange embers, leaving the room in darkness.
He thought again of Allie and their complicated relationship. Would they find themselves on solid ground in the morning, or would she default to animosity? He hoped they could be friends again.
It was his own fault. He’d handled their breakup so badly. He’d been young and not entirely aware of why their budding relationship—while new and wonderful—scared him so much.
Maybe this trip could be good for them. Maybe they could finally settle the rancor between them and come out as friends.
Only one thing stood in the way—Allie had to forgive him.