Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

afraid of people.”
    “Are you sure?  It’d be no problem…”
    I shook my head.  I didn’t want to fill the role of Ed’s
damsel in distress.  I could take care of myself.  Really, I just wanted him to
fix my four-wheeler.
    We made awkward conversation as he unfastened the grill and
peeled a couple pieces of red plastic off the front end.  It was awkward
because I wanted to be nice to him, but I didn’t want to lead him on.  I was
trying to strike a balance, but that was hard to do when you were as socially
inept as I was.  I tried to stay on safe topics, asking him how his Fourth of
July went, whether he’d been fishing lately, what he thought of the weather.
    Despite my best efforts, he managed to slip in an indirect date
invite.  “Are you going to the Hindmans’ anniversary barbecue?” he asked.  He
looked up at me, hazel eyes earnest in the gap between his dark brown hair and
beard.  The man had so much facial hair, that if I hadn’t heard him speak, I
wouldn’t have been sure he owned a mouth—but that wasn’t unusual around these
parts.
    “I…” had been planning on it, because I liked the old
couple, and there was free food, and Suzy’d be there, but I didn’t want it to
be a date .
    “I’m going,” he said, wrenching on something, blissfully
unaware of the thoughts screaming through my head.  “And I’d love to see you
there.”
    His eyes squinched up, telling me he was smiling, and I actually
wondered for all of three seconds why I couldn’t be attracted to a guy like
him.  He was nice-looking, hardworking and honest, and he was obviously
compatible with the lifestyle.  So why wasn’t I attracted to him?
    Then I came to my senses and realized it didn’t matter why.  I
just wasn’t.
    “Um,” I said noncommittally.
    He didn’t seem to notice.  “There,” he said.  “That should
do it.”
    Thank God.
    He straightened up and wiped some grease from his hands, and
then walked around and started the four-wheeler.  He smiled as the engine
roared to life.  He let it rumble for a few moments, and then shut it down.
    Then he spoke.  Here’s what I heard:  “It was the—” something,
something “—which had disconnected from the—” something, something “—and
you were low on—” something, something “—oh, and your battery—” something,
something .  Yeah, that last part had sounded kinda important.  Oh well.
    I nodded as if I’d understood, and thanked him.  He put the
front of my four-wheeler back together, packed up his tools, and then looked at
me.  I stood by during that awkward pause while he tried to think up some last
thing to say, some brilliant thing that he probably hoped would inspire me to
show him gratitude the old-fashioned way.
    “Well,” he finally said, “I might see you at the barbecue.”
    I nodded again.
    He got in his boat.
    I got on my four-wheeler, and headed back to my cabin.  I
felt Ed’s longing like a physical presence as he watched me drive away.  I
really, really needed to stop letting him help me.
    Back at my cabin, I was shucking off my damp, fishy clothes,
when I heard it again, whomp whomp whomp , and felt the vibration that
made my pots rattle.  I finished dressing, and then went downstairs to glare
out my window.
    I watched the helicopter collect three people and take off
again.  Good .  It looked like my evil neighbor was taxiing his hungover
friends back to whatever hole they’d crawled out of, rather than keeping them
till Monday.  I hoped that would bring the decibel level down a bit, and let me
actually get some sleep tonight.  Knowing it was for a good cause made me feel
a little more inclined to tolerate the noise. 
    I started up the generator—I needed to run it a couple hours
each day if I wanted the lights and running water—and threw a quick casserole
into the oven for dinner.
    Then I went back up my ladder, fetched my ear plugs, and sat
down to finish my story.  I could still hear the