Timber Creek

“Yeah, yeah, your shift’s done,” Tom said. “But you’ve got a phone call.”



Screw Reno. Really, he just needed to cross the state line. The Indian Rock Casino had a sweet setup with a bunch of five-dollar roulette tables. Or maybe he’d head right to their ten-dollar table, if he was feeling it. It had to feel right, and he made it a rule to stay away from empty tables.



“Did you hear me?” His boss hitched a thumb in the direction of the back office. “Helen’s on the line.”



“Helen? She’s at work.” Indian Rock it was. If he went five miles over the limit, he’d be there by two, two-fifteen latest.



“I know she’s at work,” Tom shot back. “That’s where she’s calling from. Right now, on the phone.”



Rob stood there for a moment, registering the information. “What about?”



“How the hell should I know?” Tom turned and disappeared into the storeroom.



Dammit. He hated interrupting his mojo like this. He told himself it didn’t matter. He’d seen the double zeroes.



He strode back to the office and grabbed the phone. “Hey, Helen.”



“I called your cell,” she said in greeting.



“Didn’t hear it.” Really, he hadn’t answered it. Whenever she called, it was usually just for stuff like milk or sugar, anyway. He was going to check her message later. Groceries could wait. Double zeroes didn’t.



Anyway, he was doing this for them.



“Ellie’s camp called,” Helen said. “You need to go get her.”



He glued his eyes to the old wall clock, watching the second hand tick-ticking along the face. “Wait, I need to get her? Why can’t you get her?”



“I am working a double shift.”



“She sick or something?” He calculated. He could get her, get back in the car, and be at Indian Rock by two-forty-five. But—damn damn damn—he’d need to get going. “I’ll go grab her, drop her at home for you. I should run—”



“Wait,” she snapped. “Don’t you hang up on me. I need you to stay with her, not just drop her.”



“Luke’s around.” Their oldest was in high school. By the time he was in high school, he was working fifteen hours a week at the Gas-n-Go. “He’s a capable kid. Can’t he watch her?”



“No, Luke can’t watch her. He’s down at the Kidd house on Tuesdays, running errands, remember?”



No, he didn’t remember, but he only said, “Yeah, okay. Well, can’t she just sit at home in front of the TV? I’ll grab some ginger ales for her. Should be fine like that.”



“Where do you need to be running off to that you can’t take care of our sick child?”



“I got errands, Helen. And if she’s so sick, won’t she want you? I don’t know what to do with sick kids.”



“You know I can’t leave here. As it is, every time I turn around, Laura’s eyes are burning a hole in the back of my head. I won’t get out of here till nine.”



Nine-zero-zero. It mocked him.



He’d had his omens. He had to seize them.



“What’s wrong with her, anyway?” Maybe a car ride might be soothing. Put her to sleep like when she was a baby.



“Croup.”



“How bad can it be? You dropped her at camp in the first place.”



“Yeah, and it killed me to do it,” she said slowly, her resentment crackling over the phone line. “But croup’s like that. Kids seem fine, until they can’t breathe. So just go get her already.”



“What do I do if she has trouble?” He checked his watch. Helen wouldn’t resent him when he brought home enough to cover next month’s mortgage…double zero paid thirty-five to one.



“Sit her in the bathroom and run the shower. Moist heat is good. Helps her breathe.”



“You sure you can’t do it?” He thought he’d try one last time.



“Someone needs to earn money in this family.”



“Oh, and I don’t earn any money?” He’d show her just how great his earning potential was.



“I’m not going there now, Rob.” The wind had left her sails, and suddenly his wife just sounded tired.



There was one thing a gambler was good at, and it was a poker face. “Sure thing,” he told her. “I’ll go get her.” It wasn’t like he was lying—he was doing this for her.



“You sure?” Helen sounded so relieved that, for a moment, he believed himself the hero.



He wanted to be the hero. “If I said I got it, I got it, babe.”



Not thirty minutes later, he was with Ellie in her room. She flopped dramatically onto her pink rug. “Can’t I just watch TV?”



As he’d predicted, she didn’t look so bad. She didn’t even have a fever, just a voice that made her sound like a seal.



“Come on, angel girl.” He leaned down and scruffed her hair. “A little field trip will fix you right up. The best thing for that throat is ice cream, and the best ice cream is in Indian Rock.”



“My throat doesn’t hurt. I just want to watch TV.”



“They have TVs there. A whole wall of them.” He pictured the screens with keno and horse races flashing by. “And they have a buffet, with soft serve and sprinkles.”



“Bear’s place has yummy ice cream,” she argued. But she’d sat up, and that was progress.



He studied her stuffed animal shelf. Why were there so many, and who’d paid for all this crap, anyway? But he wasn’t about to mess with the fragile mood of a second-grader, so instead he asked, “Which one of these is your favorite?”



“Mister Bear.”



There must’ve been two dozen bears on that damned shelf. “Which one is Mister Bear?”



“The brown one.”



That narrowed it to one dozen. He grabbed the biggest one, and she hopped to her feet. “That’s Missus Bear.”



“Shouldn’t Mister Bear be bigger than Missus Bear?”



“No.” She shouldered by him and pointed up. “That’s him.”



He plucked down the bear and then froze, trying not to grin. “Wait. Did you hear that?” He gaped at the toy. “Did you say something?” Holding the bear to his ear, he said, “Mm-hm. Yeah. Oh, sure, they’ve got plenty. In vanilla and chocolate.”



“Is there strawberry?” Ellie asked, wide-eyed.



“Oh sure, they’ve got all the flavors.” He handed her the stuffie. “Mister Bear says he wants to take a trip for ice cream.”



Finally, a smile dawned on her face. She opened her arms to the bear, but instead Rob just scooped her up. He wasn’t such a bad dad. Not such a bad one at all.



He settled her by the pool, with a big dish of strawberry ice cream with gummy bears on top—a special request from Mister Bear himself. He was in a grand mood. It’d been three-zero-zero on the dot when he’d pulled in. Granted, he’d been watching the clock like a hawk, but an omen was an omen.



Helen had said Ellie needed warm, wet air, and it didn’t get much warmer than out by the pool. The air was dry, sure, but surely the pool water added some humidity to the place. It was a pretty clever solution, actually.



“Daddy will be right back, angel girl.” Just an hour was all he’d need. Maybe not even that long. Maybe even twenty minutes. He leaned down to lay a kiss on her head. “Mister Bear here is in charge till I get back.”



He left his daughter, smiling poolside. His double zeroes were waiting.



Thirty



Eddie traced his finger down Laura’s naked back. Every inch of her was perfection, and she was in his bed, lying on her stomach, her blond hair a wild tangle. God, she was gorgeous—and what a sight when she finally let loose and let go.



She squirmed from his touch. “You’re tickling.”



“I’ll do more than that.” He swept aside her hair to lay kisses along her shoulders but felt the tension there at once. “What’s with all the knots?” Leaning on his elbow, he began to rub her back. “Sweetheart, you’re wound so tight you’re gonna snap.”



She shifted to get a better look at him. “Then maybe you should unwind me.”



Her eyes were all crackle and fire, and in them he saw the passion he’d always admired, only now she wasn’t fighting him. Now she was loving him.



It would’ve felled him, if he hadn’t already been lying down.



“Unwind you, or wind you up? Which is it?” He eased onto her back, wanting her again. He doubted he’d ever stop wanting her. Just touching her like that, he’d begun to stiffen already. He smoothed his hands along her arms, spreading them over her head. Nuzzling at her neck, he said, “Shall we go for three?”



“You’re a machine.”



“It’s the mountain air, darlin’. And you.”



She arched her back, wriggling her hips, teasing him. “Me?”



“All you,” he said, suddenly serious. He rolled to the other side of her, turning her to face him. Strands of her hair had tangled in her lashes, and he carefully brushed them aside. “You’re amazing, Laura.”



“A girl tries.” She gave him a light smile, clearly not getting his exact meaning.



“Hey”—he chucked her chin—“I don’t just mean your looks. Which, by the way, are stellar. It’s who you are. You amaze me.”



He wasn’t the biggest wordsmith, so he thought carefully about how to express it. It amazed him how alive he felt with her. Amazing how she’d gotten under his skin. She’d thought she was afraid to be vulnerable, but he’d never felt so exposed before, and it scared him. But it felt great, too. Intense. He was ready for it. For her. Ready to let it all hang out.



He took a deep breath. “I won’t make you say or feel anything you’re not ready to say or feel, but hear this. I think you are the greatest goddamn woman I have ever met. You’re so smart. So sharp. Look at you—you plucked yourself up by your bootstraps and got out of here. Paid your way through school. Then when your family needed you, you came back again. You’re tough when you have to be, but you know what you want. You protect your own—your town, your family. You love fiercely, Laura. I’ve seen it. That’s what’s amazing.”