Riverbend Road

Settle down. This was Cade. Her boss. Her brother’s best friend. Her father’s trainee. Yes, he had half the women in town head over heels for him. Yes, when he smiled that rare, bright smile, she forgot her own name. So what? She could come up with a million and one reasons she couldn’t let any of that matter.

She stepped into the light and walked up the steps of the deck. For just an instant, she thought she saw something in his gaze, something hot and hungry. She felt an answering tug in her stomach but told herself she was only hungry—and completely imagining things.

“I figured you were back here.”

“Where else would we be on a beautiful summer night in Haven Point?”

“Excellent point.” She smiled and set down the containers of food on the patio table. “I brought salad and a couple pieces of my aunt Jenny’s cheesecake I had in the freezer. It should be thawed by the time we’re ready for dessert.”

“Yum.” He rose, all lanky, masculine grace, and headed for the grill. “I was hungry so I put the steaks on about ten minutes ago.”

“Great. I’m starving.”

“It won’t be long now. Have a seat. I’m afraid I don’t have much to drink in the house but beer.”

“Ice water is great for me.” Her throat had been scratchy since the fire, but she decided not to mention that for obvious reasons.

While he went inside the kitchen, she sank into the empty chair next to the one where Cade had been sitting. She reached down and petted her dog, who yawned and settled into a more comfortable position.

The night seemed soft and lovely, the kind of evening made for relaxing out under the stars.

The pine and spruce around his property lent an appealing citrusy tang to the air. She inhaled it, struck again by how very close she had come that afternoon to never seeing another glorious Haven Point sunset.

No doubt it was a reaction to the events of the day but the world seemed vibrant and new, overflowing with possibilities.

She hadn’t taken nearly enough time to just sit and be lately. When she wasn’t working, she was either helping out at her mother’s or spending time with friends. That was one more thing she intended to change, she resolved.

“It’s so peaceful back here,” she said when Cade brought her a glass with water with a slice of lemon in it. “I could sit here all evening, just listening to the water and the birds and the wind in the trees. If this were my back deck, I would never want to leave.”

He laughed as he headed back to the grill. “Your house is two hundred yards away with the exact same view.”

“Not the same at all, because of the way the river curves. You have a much better view of the mountains.”

“That’s only because I lost three trees in the flood.”

He gestured to the river’s edge, where she saw a trio of small saplings interspersed among the larger trees lining the bank.

The previous summer, the Hell’s Fury rose to dangerous levels because of a dam break upstream. Everyone in Haven Point mobilized to fill sandbags and help people who lived along the river move their valuables to higher ground.

Because of the efforts of so many, local damage had been minimal, but a few properties still had been affected. She knew others whose basements had been flooded, their landscaping completely washed away.

“I’d forgotten you lost trees. They’re pretty close too. You were lucky they didn’t fall on the house.”

“It was a near miss, actually. The branches at the crown of the biggest one brushed the house.”

“Scary!”

He shrugged. “The trees were old and not healthy anymore and probably should have been taken out years ago. They obviously had weak root systems or they wouldn’t have been impacted by the flood.”

“It could have been much worse, for all of us. And now you have a beautiful view because of it.”

“I guess that’s the thing about floods and fires and other natural disasters,” he said. “The damage from them can be devastating, but they can also be catalysts for change, offering entirely new perspectives.”

It was an interesting way to look at things. “That’s true. When I was little, we went to Yellowstone seven or eight years after the huge fires that burned more than a third of the park. I remember being so sad about all the snags of burned trees you could still see but my dad explained that the fires were necessary.”

“Right. Lodgepole pinecones can’t open and begin to reseed without being exposed to high heat.”

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it? Certain plants and animals started to thrive only because of the fire and entirely new areas of the park were open to view for the first time in recent history.”

Maybe the fire in Darwin Twitchell’s barn had been her catalyst for change.