Too Late Returning

By Kerry M Kelly

Bridgid had done all she could do. It had taken two years, but she finally had the book Kitt had written about her time in Morgan. Now she had Mister John’s promise he would read it. She knew this was the only chance she had in getting the two of them back together.
John spent the night reading the book and remembering what that summer had been like. He was reminded about the near-tragedy that had brought Kitt into their lives. He remembered how good she was with the girls; how the girls, Bridgid even Timothy had all fallen in love with her. He had to admit that he, too, had fallen in love with her. And Kitt had seemed to love all of them.
It was definitely interesting reading about all that had happened from her point of view. He was pleased to read that she had enjoyed all the trips into Morgan and Boise. He was amazed to read about all she had done with the girls and with Bridgid. He re-lived their first dinner and night of dancing at the Morgan Arms, and was relieved to see she had enjoyed it as much as he had.
It came as quite a surprise to read what Kitt had put up with from his own sister-in-law, Maribeth. He was startled to hear what Lani was like, and hoped that was just ‘literary license’. He was not surprised about Patti.
He had had no idea what had been going on ‘behind the scenes’ and how Kitt had quietly put up with all of it.
It was uncomfortable reading about the nights dancing, and realizing how he had made Kitt feel. He had blamed Kitt when things went wrong; never dreaming his sister-in-law had orchestrated everything.
He hated reading about how bad things got, and knowing he was to blame for thinking the worst of her. He could not believe, now, what he had put her through.
By the time he was finished with the book, he knew he would have to try to make things right for her. He wondered if she could ever forgive him. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he had to try – not only for himself, but for the girls, Bridgid, Timothy; all of them.
The next day he enlisted Bridgid’s help to try to win Kitt back. It was not smooth sailing. He knew she had every right to try to keep her distance. He knew she was afraid of being hurt again. But he was not above using his daughters, Bridgid and Timothy, to remind Kitt how much she had loved them all. He would do whatever he could to try to get her back.
He also had to ‘right’ some wrongs that had been done to Kitt. He had no idea that, in trying to make things easier for the girls, he would make things worse for Kitt.
He could only hope that, if she lived, she would want him back; would want to be part of the family again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kerry M Kelly
• Release date: Feb 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311453167

Kerry M Kelly

I started writing books many years ago when I was a single mother raising three kids. I always loved reading, and felt drawn to writing. It seemed, right from the start, that the stories were ‘given’ to me. It was fascinating meeting the people who seemed to just show up in my books, and I enjoyed reporting what was going on in their lives.I just recently started submitting my stories as e-books. I had tried, many years ago, to get a couple of my books published, but found that while I enjoyed writing, I was not good at ‘jumping through hoops’ to get published. So I kept writing, and quit trying to get my books published.Now that e-books are a possibility, I would like to introduce others to the people, places and events I discovered while writing. I do hope you’ll enjoy getting to know all the characters I met along the way. Some of them are quite memorable - some good and some bad - but all worth meeting, I believe.I find I still enjoy going back and re-reading all of my books and re-acquainting myself with the many fascinating people I met on the incredible writing journey I have taken. I hope you will come to like many of them, too.Thank you for spending your time reading this book. And please write and tell me how you feel I did – good or bad. I would really like to know. And I’d enjoy adding you to the growing list of people I’ve met through my books and because of them.You can contact me at [e-mail] or on my face book page at [e-mail], or at SmashwordsKerry M KellyP. S. – For those of you who might want to know more about me: I am now married, and all four of our children have families of their own. My family has grown from four to 17, and my husband and I are enjoying all 9 of our grandchildren. I am a registered nurse who works in an asthma/allergy clinic in Spokane. Before this, I worked 27 years as an LPN on the orthopedic unit at a local hospital (And it’s at that time – when I started as a nurse – that I first felt the desire to write)And thank you to those of you who have read - and reviewed Friends Don't. For those of you who did not agree with Katryn's choices, I hope you'll give me another chance by reading Too Late Returning. I learned a lot from your reviews. Thanks, again.

Book preview

TOO LATE RETURNING

Kerry M. Kelly

Copyright 2013 Kerry M. Kelly

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

PROLOGUE

John stood staring at the dancing flames that warmed him along with the living room. He was remembering a fire much like this, from somewhere in his past. He could see that fire, even feel it warm him inside and out. Why, then, was he having trouble remembering when it had been?

Mister John. Bridgid spoke his name softly in the dimly lit room. Still, in the quiet of the almost-empty house, her voice seemed to boom. Not turning to look at her, upset that she had chased his memories away, John asked what she needed.

Wouldn’t I be thinking I’d rather have this conversation with the front of you, she answered cryptically in a thick Irish brogue.

Sorry. John told her, a little surprised by the crisp tone she had used. He walked a few steps towards her, and motioned for her to sit in one of the two chairs near the fireplace. He sat down in the other, making himself comfortable, aware she remained standing.

I’d rather stand, I would, she told him, standing in front of his chair. Has it not been a fairly long time I’ve been with you and the girls? Bridgid asked needlessly.

It has, John admitted.

And have I not done all you asked, these many years, without complaint? she continued.

You have, and then some, he readily agreed, not sure why she would ask after all this time. Deciding even Bridgid might need an occasional pat on the back, he added, The girls and I would never have made it without you, I hope you know that. And I’ll always be indebted to you.

Have I, then, ever asked anything of you, in all this time?

You have not, He knew, now, why she was so curt. It would be hard for Bridgid to ask for anything for herself. He decided immediately, that whatever it was that she needed, he would see to it she got it. A chill went through him. And if what she wanted was to leave, what then?

I have a favor, now, I do. It means a lot to me, though you’ll not be understanding ‘till the favor’s finished. I’ll need your promise, I will... Wouldn’t I be getting a little ahead of myself, though. Best I tell you what I’m asking before I ask for your word. John sat forward on his chair, intrigued by Bridgid’s comments.

You have my word I’ll do all I can...

I’m thinking, I am, you’d best hear my favor before the promise, Bridgid repeated, cutting him off. It may not seem like much at the beginning, but wouldn’t I be thinking it’ll be a lot before you’re done.

Though he had no idea what she was talking about, John nodded his head and sat back in his chair.

It’s a book, I have, for you to read. The words sent another chill through John. I’ll need your word, I will, that you’ll read the thing, tonight, cover to cover. Wouldn’t the girls be staying the weekend with your sister, so they’ll not be here to interrupt. I’ll be gone the night myself. Bridgid paused to look at her boss. She saw, by the stiff way he now sat, that he knew who had written the book. He had not said no, yet, so she continued.

You’ll be recognizing the author right away, you will. And I’m thinking you’ll know some of the characters. It’s only with the reading you’ll get to know them all, though, Bridgid warned. And it’s knowing them all, that I want from you.

John turned and stared at the flames. He had already given his word, though he knew she would not hold him to it, since it had been given before he had known. ‘Why? Why now?’ he wondered. It all happened more than two years ago. It was over and done with. The pain had finally left. Truthfully, it had only become a little duller. But he did not think about her as much, anymore.

He did owe Bridgid a lot. And she had never asked anything of him before. Besides, how bad could it be? So what if it amounted to Kitt raking him over the coals. He did not care anymore. She could not hurt him if he did not care. And if it would make Bridgid happy, well ....

I’ll read the book, he told Bridgid.

You’ll read it all? Every word? And you’ll not be quitting before it’s done?

I give you my word. I’ll read it all. Tonight. I won’t quit until I’ve finished the last page. Then, hopefully, this will never be brought up again.

I’ll not mention it again, Bridgid promised. There’s coffee that’s hot and fresh in the pot. Sandwiches are made in the ice box. I’ll be back, I will, in the morning, Bridgid said, turning to leave.

Haven’t you forgotten something? John asked, smiling.

I have not. There’s food and coffee, there is. Wouldn’t the house be quieter than it has in years, and you’ll not be disturbed by phone calls since I’ve put on the answering machine, she told him, a little indignantly. She, forget anything? How could he ...

Did you have a book for me? he asked.

The book! Wouldn’t I be forgettin’ the book, she muttered, walking out towards the kitchen. She returned in no time at all and handed John the book.

You’ll read it all? The whole book? Even if the writing’s not pleasing to you?

You have my word, he reminded her.

That I do, she admitted before turning and leaving again.

John turned the book over in his hand. TOO LATE RETURNING by Kathleen Duvall. The cover was of a woman, in her 50’s probably, standing on the edge of a hillside, looking over a large lake.

Interesting title, he decided, opening the book to glance at the first few pages. Kitt’s name was on every right-hand page, he noticed. Turning back towards the front of the book he saw the book was printed just this year. Not even aware what he was doing, John absently ran his fingers over the smooth cover. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed nothing had been glued to the front cover.

Repositioning himself in the chair, John opened to page one and began to read.

CHAPTER 1

Kitt had just fallen asleep with her back propped against a large pine tree that over-looked her side of the lake. Suddenly, she was awakened by a noise. Quickly sitting up, she strained to listen, to identify the sound that had awakened her.

She heard it again, and Lep, her dog, sat up beside her, whining quietly at the noise.

The trees that skirted the shore blocked her view of the other end of the kidney-shaped lake, but Kitt knew what the faint screams meant. Jumping to her feet, she ran towards the sounds, praying she would be in time. She skirted the convex side of the lake, scanning the water. When she neared the East end, she saw a small figure flailing in the water, half-way across the lake.

The little head disappeared for a heart-stopping moment before popping up above the water again. Kitt heard the child cough and sputter, then start the shrill screaming again.

Rushing towards the water, Kitt jerked off first one shoe, then the other. Scanning the lake, she saw a second child in the water. This one was swimming away from the first child towards a raft that was drifting just beyond the child’s reach.

Turning to the dog running beside her, Kitt ordered it to stay. The dog immediately sat down, whining after her master who continued running. Kitt splashed into the water, her choppy steps seeming horribly slow to her. She pulled her feet up and out of the water with each stride, trying to run faster in the shallow water.

The water quickly got deeper and her running slowed considerably. When she was finally deep enough for swimming, Kitt dove into the cool water. Once her face cleared the water, she located the child and stroked fast and hard towards her.

The sleeves of Kitt’s wet sweatshirt made her stroke clumsy, while the weight of her sweat pants slowed her otherwise strong kick. She wondered, for a moment, if she should have wasted the few seconds it would have taken for her to strip to her bathing suit. Knowing it was too late to worry about that now, she fought the cumbersome clothing and continued to race towards the obviously tiring youngster.

Kitt felt her heart pounding with fear as she swam towards the youngster. She knew that swimming with her head out of the water was affecting her speed, but she was afraid to take her eyes off the child.

Though Kitt was making good time, all those childhood years spent on swim teams finally paying off, it seemed to her that it took forever before she reached what she saw to be a young girl, wet pigtails clinging to her face.

The child lunged at Kitt, who dove deep underwater. The one fact she had retained from Lifeguard training was that even a small child could drown a rescuer by grabbing around the neck. Kitt came up behind the girl, grabbed her by her upper arms, and held her so that her face was out of the water. Flutter-kicking rapidly, Kitt kept the child’s head well above the water. Still, with the child squirming in her arms, Kitt got a mouthful of water. Sputtering, she tried to calm the girl.

It’s OK. You’re safe now. If you quit kicking, we won’t get splashed. If you do what I ask, I’ll turn you around towards me. You have to quit kicking, though. You’re OK. I promise. Just relax, I’ve got you.

Slowly, with Kitt’s continued reassurances, the little girl’s screams grew quieter, and the squirming slowed. Eventually the screaming stopped altogether.

Now, I’ll turn you around, Kitt told the exhausted little girl. Hold onto my arms if you get scared, OK? I won’t let go of you, I promise.

Kitt knew she had to be careful turning the little girl around. If the child slipped under water for even a second, Kitt guessed she would start thrashing around all over again. Kitt’s arms were growing weak and her legs were kicking much more slowly. She needed to get both she and the girl to shore.

Kitt still held the child’s arms tightly against the small body while slowly turning the child around towards her, making sure to keep the child’s head up out of the water. When the girl was turned towards Kitt, Kitt slid her hands from the child’s arms down to the child’s waist. As soon as the girl’s arms were freed, she immediately grabbed Kitt and held on tightly.

Kitt glanced quickly towards the other child and was relieved to see she was swimming back towards them.

Is that your sister? Kitt asked the subdued, but obviously still frightened, child she held.

Yes...that’s Jenny.

Jenny, Kitt called to the other girl, Are you OK? Jenny quit swimming in order to answer.

Yes. But the raft just keeps going farther and farther away, she explained while treading water.

Can you make it back to shore, do you think? Kitt asked.

Oh yes. I swim good and I’m not even tired.

OK, swim over here. I’ll wait for you and then we’ll swim back together.

While Jenny started towards them again, Kitt spoke to the little girl in her arms, What’s your name?

Kathy.

OK, Kathy, this is what we’re going to do. When Jenny gets here, I’m going to help you around to my back. Then I want you to hold onto my shoulders while I’m swimming, and I’ll give you a ride to shore, OK? Kathy just nodded.

Remember, though, I want you to just hold onto my shoulders. You can grab a handful of my sweatshirt if you want, OK? Again Kathy nodded. Kitt saw how frightened the girl still was, so she asked her a few questions until Jenny joined them. She found out that Kathy had been on the raft, and Jenny had been pulling it to give her sister a ride.

Her questions were interrupted when Jenny splashed up to them. Kitt slowly helped Kathy move around to Kitt’s back where the girl quickly got a hold of Kitt’s wet sweatshirt. Kitt felt the slight tug of the material around her neck, and was relieved it was a well-worn, loose top. Then Kitt headed towards shore with Jenny swimming quite well beside her.

When Kitt got close enough to shore that she could stand up, she brought Kathy around front and walked her the rest of the way. Jenny swam until her stomach was rubbing the bottom. She quit only when she absolutely had to.

Can we rest a minute? Kitt asked the girls, greatly relieved when they said yes. Kitt and Jenny sat on the bank with their feet in the water. Kathy clung to Kitt and wiggled in Kitt’s arms until her entire body was clear of the lake. Kitt kept her arms wrapped around the small child to calm her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Kitt felt as if she had been drugged. She was well aware that it was not the swimming that had wiped her out. The rush of adrenaline she had felt when she first heard the screaming was now exacting its toll. It was taking her mind a bit to clear, so she asked a few simple questions. Jenny answered them all.

Jenny was five years old. It surprised Kitt to hear that Kathy was nearly seven. Not only did Jenny swim better than her sister, she seemed just a little bit taller, too. Jenny told Kitt that they lived just beyond the lake in the only other house around. Then the girl admitted she had talked her sister into going on the raft because she, Jenny, loved to swim, and Kathy was scared of the water.

Jenny also admitted, quite readily, that they were not allowed to be down at the lake without Bridgid, their housekeeper.

Next, Jenny wanted to know if Kitt was the owner of the new house at the other end of the lake. Kitt told her yes, and Jenny said that she and Kathy had been waiting to meet the owner to find out if she was nice or not.

Well? Kitt asked, smiling. What do you think? Is she nice?

Sorta’ depends, Jenny told her, on whether you tell my Dad or not. Kitt had to stifle a smile. For being only five, Jenny was pretty sharp.

Well, Jenny, much as I’d sure like you to think I’m a nice neighbor, I have to admit I’m going to tell your parents. Kathy might have drowned, you know, and that seems pretty serious to me, she said it kindly, but she wanted Jenny to know where she stood.

I figured you’d tell, Jenny admitted. It’s OK. I think you’re pretty nice, anyway.

Thanks, Kitt told her honestly. I’m glad to hear that. Then, because Kathy had been so quiet, Kitt asked her, Kathy, what’s your real name? Is it Kathleen? She guessed.

How’d you know? Jenny asked before Kathy could answer.

Kathy is a nickname usually used for Kathleen, Kitt answered. Then, to Kathy she said, My name is Kathleen, too. Kathleen Duval McGinty. My nickname is Kitt.

Can I call you Kitt? Kathy asked quietly.

You sure can. Kitt told her.

If Kathy’s the nickname for Kathleen, Jenny wanted to know, why’s your name Kitt?

I’ll make a deal with you, Jenny. If you’ll go back along this side of the lake and get my towel, I’ll tell you when you get back. The towel’s dark blue and green, and you’ll see it near the other end of the lake. Lep will go with you to get it, she offered, turning to the dog that sat waiting patiently where Kitt had earlier told her to stay.

Lep, come here girl, and meet my new friends.

The dog came over and Jenny readily petted her when Kitt introduced the dog to the girls. Kathy was content to just smile at the dog before Jenny and Lep headed towards the other end of the lake. When they were out of hearing, Kitt turned back to Kathy.

How are you doing, honey? Are you OK? Kitt asked. Kathy nodded quietly. Really, are you sure you’re OK? Kitt persisted. Again the child merely nodded. Kitt decided to wait until Jenny returned before she asked any more questions.

Jenny was back in record time with the towel. Lep trailed well behind. Kitt towel-dried Kathy while she answered Jenny’s earlier question.

You wanted to know why my nickname’s Kitt, right? The girls nodded in unison, bringing a smile to Kitt’s face. Well, when I was little, my father used to call me Kitten. It was OK when I was little, but when I got old enough to start first grade, I was afraid I’d be teased by the other kids. So, I asked my father not to call me kitten anymore. I told him it was just a baby name, and I wasn’t a baby any more. I had to remind him over and over because he kept forgetting. Sure enough, the first time I brought a friend home and introduced her, my father started to say, ‘Any friend of Kitt...’ I must have look horrified, because he quit in the middle of Kitten. He just pretended my name was Kitt. My friend thought Kitt was a much better name than Kathleen, and soon all my classmates, and my family, were calling me Kitt. I’ve been Kitt ever since.

Did you like Kitt better than Kitten? Jenny asked.

Much better. Kitt sounded much more grown up to me than Kitten. When Kitt was through explaining, she sat Kathy down while she retrieved her shoes. Then they headed towards the girls’ home. Jenny took them to the kitchen of a huge white two-story home.

Bridgid, someone’s here to meet you, Jenny told a heavy set, middle aged, red haired woman when they walked through the kitchen door. Quickly, before Kitt or Bridgid could speak, Jenny rushed on.

Kathy and I were at the lake and Kathy was on the raft and I was pulling it, only Kathy fell off and I went to get the raft and Kitt showed up and saved Kathy and took her back to the shore, she took a quick breath and added, Kitt lives in the new house and she has a dog named Lep and she seems really nice.

Hold on there, Missy, Bridgid ordered in a thick Irish brogue. Wouldn’t I be thinkin’ you’d better back up to the part about the lake.

Jenny, knowing she was in trouble, shrugged her shoulders and started over. This time she went slowly. Kathy went over to Bridgid, Kitt’s towel still wrapped warmly around her. Bridgid bent down and held Kathy in her arms while she listened intently to Jenny’s story. Bridgid waited for Jenny to finish before she spoke.

You understand, do you, that Kathy could have drowned? For the first time since Kitt had met the child, Jenny became upset. She started to cry while she answered.

I only wanted her to get used to the water. I wanted someone to swim with me. Jenny went over to her sister and said, I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to ever again.

Over the heads of the two crying girls who clung to her, Bridgid thanked Kitt profusely. Kitt waited while the two girls cried themselves out. Then, when the girls were settled some, Bridgid sent them up to their rooms for the rest of the afternoon.

Bridgid asked Kitt to stay for a cup of tea, and after the girls left, she thanked Kitt again. Bridgid then went on to explain she was the housekeeper and the girls’ nanny.

They’d been in the back yard, they had, when I looked. Bridgid explained. And don’t they both know they’re not allowed down at the lake by themselves. I don’t know what gets into Jenny, but haven’t I always counted on Kathy to be the wise one! Bridgid said before explaining that Jenny was the much more adventurous one of the two, and that Kathy was quite shy.

Wouldn’t Kathy be afraid of her own shadow, usually, Bridgid added, shaking her head. Sure and I don’t know how she let herself be talked onto a raft!

Where’d Jenny learn to swim so well? Kitt wanted to know, remembering how well the five year old had done.

Their father saw to it they both took lessons these last two summers. He was wanting the girls to be safe, he was, what with us living near the lake, and all. Mind you, it was Jenny who really took the lessons, though. Kathy was too afraid to go near the water, she was. And their father even hired life guards from the city pool to teach the girls. You’ve seen, then, how it worked for Jenny. I’m thinking a bit too well, I am.

You’ll tell their parents about what happened? Kitt asked.

I will, Bridgid assured her. Though I doubt Jenny would try that again. She was truly upset, she was.

Kitt had to agree with her. She decided that Jenny must have been really desperate to go swimming if she was willing to go to the trouble of disobeying Bridgid and then talking Kathy onto the raft.

If it would be OK, I’ll be glad to have the girls join me when I’m at the lake, Kitt offered. Then Jenny could swim some, and maybe, eventually, Kathy...

I wouldn’t be getting my hopes up too high for Kathy, Bridgid told her. Hasn’t she been afraid of the water for years, poor dear. But Jenny would love to swim, and wouldn’t I be thinking it wouldn’t hurt Kathy to spend a little time near the water. I don’t swim at all, I don’t, so they haven’t been to the lake often. They’ve both taken to you already, so I think it’d be grand for them.

If you give me your phone number, I could just call when I’m heading down to the lake. Or should I walk over and get them? Kitt wondered aloud.

They’ll be fine to walk over. I’m thinking the walk would be good for the both of them, I am. They’re pretty good girls, usually, and they mind fairly well. And wouldn’t Jenny be especially good knowing she’ll get to swim. They’ll meet you wherever you want.

Tell you what. Tomorrow, about one, I’ll come get them so I can show them where I swim. That is, if you think they won’t still be being punished?

It’s fairly certain I am that they won’t be. And it would be a nice day for the both of them, it would.

The women talked a little longer. Kitt explained she was a writer and was taking the summer off. She hoped to be swimming every day that was nice, she told Bridgid.

Before Kitt left, Bridgid thanked her once again, and told her she looked forward to seeing Kitt tomorrow. Bridgid then went to see how the girls were doing.

Kitt dried herself off with a big soft towel. Then she got into a pair of warm, quilted, jump-suit style pajamas. Though it was only a little after six, she was bushed. She chided herself, again, for not emptying out her trailer. She was beginning to get a bit hungry. She was too tired, now, to go outside to fix herself a meal, though. Tomorrow, for sure, she promised herself, she would bring in the dishes and food, at least.

Walking out into the living room, she saw that the fire in the fireplace had a rosy glow. She sat down on the sleeping bag she had laid out before her bath, and watched the flames lick at the logs.

She guessed her Realtor must have set up the logs in the fireplace for her. There were even extra logs stacked in a very nice round, wrought-iron log holder that sat off to the side of the fireplace. She saw, again, the bottle of wine and two champagne glasses that sat on the fireplace mantle. The card with the wine merely said WELCOME, and since no one had signed the card, she naturally assumed that they, too, came from her Realtor.

Kitt, warmed by the fire, drifted off to sleep in the nearly empty house. Lep slept beside her.

For the second time that day, Kitt was awakened by an unfamiliar noise. This time, while she strained to hear the sound again, Lep, awake and standing beside her, barked once.

Kitt heard another knock at the front door. After telling Lep it was OK, she went to the heavy wooden door and looked through the peep hole. Lep stood protectively beside her.

Who’s there? she asked the strange man at her door.

Hi, the tall, dark-haired man said. My name is John O’Neill. I’m Jenny and Kathy’s father.

Kitt had half-expected to hear from one of the girls’ parents, so she was not surprised to see Mr. O’Neill standing there. She was glad she had put on her quilted pajamas, though. They covered her enough to leave her feeling comfortably dressed.

Come in, please, she said, opening the door and stepping back to allow him into her house. Lep sniffed the stranger’s hand, then walked quietly back to Kitt’s sleeping bag. Sorry I can’t offer you a chair, Kitt told the man when he entered the bare room.

Living a little Spartan, aren’t you? John asked, smiling.

I wanted to wait until I got here to purchase any furniture. I wanted to be sure what I got would really fit the house.

I see, he told her. Then, changing the subject, he said, I’m under the impression that my family is highly indebted to you. Bridgid told me Kathy would have drowned if you hadn’t shown up when you did.

Jenny might have gotten to the raft in time, Kitt offered, embarrassed.

Miss ....?

McGinty. But please, call me Kitt.

Kitt, then. Please, I’m not here to embarrass you. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am. We all are. Jenny and Kathy both know better than to be at the lake alone.

They admitted that. I know how I’ve always loved the water, Mr....

John, please, he interrupted.

Thank you. I know how much I love to swim, how much I enjoyed it as a child. It must be hard for Jenny to be near the water and not be able to go in. Especially when you’ve seen to it she can swim so well.

It almost cost us Kathy’s life, he reminded Kitt just a little sternly.

Oh, I know she was wrong. I think she’s well aware of the dangers now, too. I just hope you don’t forbid her from going to the lake at all.

Bridgid also tells me you offered to take the girls to the lake when you go swimming.

I did. And I plan to be there, at the lake, almost every day. They’re welcome to join me whenever I’m there.

I know it’s none of my business; I hope you don’t mind my asking. What do you do for a living, that you’ll be free every day? Are you a teacher?

No, Kitt smiled at the thought that only teachers would be expected to have their summers free. As a matter of fact, I’m a writer. I’ve just had a book published, and I’m taking the summer off before I start in again.

You must be very good. I didn’t think writing paid all that well, unless you were a Jacqueline Suzanne or a Stephen King.

A proud voice from inside told her she should brag at least a little. Her name might not be Suzanne or King, but her last book had already done very well, and the ones before it had done quite respectably, too. She was too shy to listen to that voice, though.

I’ve just quit working, Kitt quickly explained. I’ve saved for years for a place like this. I sold my home in the city, and between my savings, the money from my house, and my book, I’ll do fine for the summer.

Have you had supper yet? John asked, changing the subject again.

No, she admitted, a little embarrassed at all that she had told him. I was actually too tired to go outside to my trailer to fix myself a meal.

Good, he walked back out the front door, picked up a picnic basket and carried it inside. "Bridgid sent this over. It’s fried chicken, potato salad, and a berry pie, among other things. She said you probably wouldn’t have gotten everything unpacked and may not have eaten much.

I’m famished, Kitt told him, smiling. And dinner sounds great. Tell Bridgid she must be psychic, will you? He nodded. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. John, are you the person who left me the wine? He said that he was. And the logs in the fireplace, and the log holder?

The girls were pretty excited about new neighbors, he explained, nodding to her. We thought we’d try to make you feel welcome. Kitt wondered if Mrs. O’Neill were as nice as her daughters and husband.

You’re all very sweet, Kitt told him. I can’t wait to meet your wife. Kitt felt the room chill a little.

I have no wife, John answered, curtly.

I’m ... sorry... Kitt stammered, taken aback. I just assumed... Regaining his good humor, John again changed the subject.

I don’t want to seem rude, of course, but I do want you to know I’ve been smelling this chicken and pie for almost 20 minutes, now. If you’d rather eat your supper alone, I understand. But I’m far too hungry to chat any further if I’m to turn around and go all the way back home to eat, his smile lit up the room.

I’d love to have you join me for supper, Kitt answered him. I have no table or chairs, though.

It’s a picnic then, on the floor. I could even grab an ant or two, if you’d like? he asked, his eyes twinkling.

I think I could do without the ants this time, especially since I’m finding the aroma of Bridgid’s chicken very tempting. No, I’m afraid I’m far too hungry to wait for you to find any ants. Feel free, though, she offered.

And you’d probably eat my share of dinner while I was out searching. John accused, and Kitt nodded, smiling. I’ll skip the ants this time. But it’ll be your fault that the picnic’s not quite right, he reminded her.

Lep moved off the sleeping bag when John and Kitt started towards her. She quickly curled up on her blanket next to the fire. John helped Kitt open up the sleeping bag and lay it out in front of the fireplace. They sat down on opposite sides, with the basket between them.

John took out a yellow tablecloth and spread it out on the top of the sleeping bag. Then he began to unpack the food. Bridgid had truly sent a feast. Not only were the chicken, potato salad and pie there, but Bridgid had included barbecue beans, fresh rolls, and corn on the cob. Knowing that Kitt had just moved in, she had even packed plates, silverware and glasses for the meal. Kitt did not have to go to her trailer for a thing.

Kitt had not realized how hungry she was until she found they were already eating dessert, neither of them having spoken but a few words. John seemed to read her mind. After his last bite of pie, he finally spoke.

I’m sorry. I’ve just realized I wolfed down an entire meal without even polite conversation.

I hardly noticed, Kitt answered, laughing easily. I was far too busy wolfing, myself.

Relaxed, and full, they spent some time comfortably finding out a little about each other. John asked about the unique floor plan to Kitt’s house. She explained it was her own idea. Since she was single, had no one to please but herself, she decided she should have her house built just the way she wanted.

She felt she really only needed four major rooms, besides the bath. Wanting each room to have all the sunlight possible, she decided each of the four main rooms would be a different corner of her house.

That way, she explained to John, my bedroom windows face North and East, so I can wake up with the sunrise. The living room and kitchen get Western exposures so I can watch sunsets at the kitchen table, or while in front of the fireplace in here. The office windows face South and East so I have plenty of sun in the morning when I work. The bath, in the center of the house, doesn’t use up any of my window space, she added.

Sounds nice in the summer, John admitted. But what about during the winter? It gets pretty cold around here. All those windows might make it a little chilly.

The builder put heavy wooden storm shutters on all the windows. I can close which-ever I need during the winter. The windows are all triple-paned, though, so I’m hoping I won’t have to close the shutters all that often. I really enjoy sun light. Besides, the walls have extra thick insulation, too.

John was quite aware of how well the house had been built. He had kept a steady eye on the building, making sure the contractor did not skimp on anything. He felt a little protective of the place. After all, it was being built on what had been his land, and he wanted nothing cheap or tacky to be put up.

You picked a good spot for the house. The trees will act as windbreaks, and that’ll help, John told Kitt. While she appreciated the comment, it did not really matter to Kitt if John approved or not. After all, this was her home. She had spent a lot of time mapping out her land and choosing exactly where her house should sit. And when the house was finished, she had been thrilled to find it looked even better ‘in the flesh’ than it had on paper.

She had decided to build her home on top of a small hill that over-looked the lake. While she could not actually see the lake from her place, she got plenty of sunshine and still felt protected by the trees that surrounded her home and yard.

John, are you the person I actually bought my land from? Kitt asked after a minute. He had been lost in thought, watching the flames dance.

I’m sorry. What did you ask?

I got this land through the local Realtor. I never even met the man who owned it. Was it your land?

It was, he admitted, offering no further information.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled you sold this to me, but I wonder why you were willing to let such a choice piece of land go.

From the way Bob talked, you’d have hounded me ‘till my dying day for this piece of land. You were pretty persistent, you’ll have to admit! Kitt blushed. It was true. She HAD hounded the Realtor.

It was more than three years ago that she and her Mom had come to Morgan City to visit her Aunt for Christmas. One beautiful, snowy day Kitt had decided to go for a drive. The white capped evergreens, rutted roads, and occasional deer had drawn her further and further out of town. She parked not too far from where her house was now built, and walked towards the lake.

Ice covered the water. Snowy pine trees stood silent sentinel all around the lake, and there, out towards the middle on one side of the lake, was a small island. She sat on the bank of the lake, her thick snow bib and jacket keeping her plenty warm. She watched the huge snowflakes float down into fluffy piles, covering what she just knew would also make a wonderful summer scene. Sitting on the bank, she stared out towards the island, absorbing the quiet peacefulness of the lake. She felt so relaxed, the place was so serene, she fell asleep.

Sometime later, a small breeze ruffled a branch way above Kitt. The little bit of snow on the branch fell down onto the next branch, and then the next, at each branch gaining a little more snow as it fell towards Kitt.

Kitt was awakened when quite a bit of snow landed on her lap. Laughing, feeling refreshed after her nap, she slowly stood up. When she turned, she saw, not very far off in the distance, three white tailed deer. They did not run. They watched carefully when she walked back towards her car. She almost felt they were welcoming her to their home.

She decided right then that she would do everything in her power to buy the land and at least the part of the lake with the island. She had gone into town the very next morning, found the real estate agent in charge, and told him what she wanted.

The agent politely explained there was no way she would ever get that particular bit of land. He knew the owner, and knew he would never be persuaded to sell. The agent had tried to encourage her to look elsewhere. Kitt, however, had remained emphatic about wanting that land only. And it had to be the area from the middle of the lake to the other side of the hill her house was now built on.

It had taken almost two years of pleading, hounding, even begging, before the agent, quite surprised himself at the turn around, told her the owner would sell.

For the first time in her life, Kitt called in sick at work when she was not sick at all. She rushed down to Morgan City to sign the papers before the owner had a chance to change his mind. She definitely was not sorry she had kept after her Realtor. This place was perfect.

I’d be lying if I said I’m sorry I was so persistent, Kitt told John. I’d never felt so strongly before, that I belonged somewhere. I just knew I belonged here.

When I saw the plans for your house, saw you wouldn’t disfigure the land, I decided you’d be an OK neighbor, John admitted. Besides, I’d have hated going to my grave with you still hounding me, he added, smiling warmly.

Thanks. I hope I stay an OK neighbor.

My girls consider you much better than OK, he admitted. And I hope you know we’ll always be indebted to you for Kathy, he added on a somber note.

Kitt, embarrassed, changed the subject. How long have you lived here? Did your family own the land?

Well, in a way. Actually, my cousin owned this part of Morgan. I owned the adjacent land to the North. He didn’t want to be a rancher or a farmer, though, so he sold his land to me. He moved to New York, ‘where all the action is’, he says. My brother and his wife live in my old place. I fell in love with this lake myself, and the girls and I have lived here since I had the place built four or five years ago.

She was not sure why it mattered to her, but Kitt wondered if his wife had loved the place, too. Not knowing how she could possibly ask such a thing, Kitt chose to change the subject.

Bridgid’s from Ireland, isn’t she?

Yes. I was pretty lucky to find her, too. She came to the States to visit relatives, who happened to be friends of mine. It was a couple months after Kathy was born, and we were looking for a nanny. These friends mentioned that their cousin wanted to stay in the area. It all just fell into place, and Bridgid’s been with the girls ever since. She’s better with them than their own... Well, she’s always been very good to them. He amended. You’re not married? He suddenly changed the subject.

No. I was once, when I was much younger. Too young, in fact. It ended in record time, and I’ve avoided marriage since.

No kids?

No. Luckily, then, seeing the surprised look on his face, she explained. Don’t get me wrong. I love kids, and even wanted a few of my own. I’m just glad we didn’t have any. I’m not sure how good of a single parent I’d have been. Nor what kind of life I could have given children when I could barely keep my own head above water. Especially right after the divorce.

You didn’t have a job, I take it?

No, she admitted, blushing. It had been her biggest embarrassment in life to try to make a living when she had had no college, or training. It had been demeaning to have to settle for waitressing, and then work in a laundry.

After a while I was lucky enough to get a job at a linen supply company, she explained. I fed sheets, pillow cases, dish towels and other assorted items into the mouth of the biggest and hottest machine I’d ever seen. It was called a mangle, and I often speculated that the reason it was called a mangle was that that’s exactly what it would’ve done to your hand, if you ever got caught in one. It was impressive, though. I fed the damp linens into my side of the machine, and they came out the other side neatly pressed. The larger items, like sheets, went through a second machine and emerged neatly folded. Of course, after the first thousand or so sheets, it wasn’t really all that impressive any more. It was hot and boring work. But the hours were steady, and I was able to take a few night courses at the Community College. When my Dad died, he left me a little money, and I was able to use part of it for a down payment on a house. Mom moved here to Morgan to live with her sister, who’d also lost her husband, and I kept working at my mangle.

When did you start writing? John wanted to know.

To be honest, when I moved into my own home. Owning was a little more expensive than renting had been, and I wanted to cut down on my spending. By the time I added books, essentials, and even gas, to the cost of my college courses, I decided I’d save a lot by staying home, Kitt was too shy to admit that by this time she was not very far from graduating from a four year college with a degree in English.

Anyway, she continued, With free time on my hands, I took up writing. The rest, as they say, is history, she finished, suddenly realizing how much talking she was doing.

You’ve written more than one book, did you say?

I’ve had four published, she admitted.

What kind of books do you write? John asked, not realizing how much that question bothered Kitt. She had cut her teeth on a couple romance novels, and had been unprepared for the less-than-kind treatment romance writers received from the public. She had been surprised, knowing romance novels were the bestselling books around. Her last two books were general fiction. These got her a lot more respect, especially since they had been very well received. Even so, she always felt the need to tell anyone who asked that she had started out with romance. That was what she now told John. She was pleased when he made no negative comments about Romance books.

And now that you know all about me, do I get to ask a few questions about you? Kitt teasingly asked John.

Fire away, he allowed.

Kitt found out John had grown up in Morgan in the home his brother now lived in. His family had been cattle ranchers, and she gathered they had done pretty well. When his Father had died, he had left the ranch to John, the oldest of the three children. Other property had been given to Bill, who was two years younger than John, and to Lynn, who was four years younger than Bill. Bill now ran the cattle ranch, whereas John was semi-retired and wanted to breed horses.

Lynn married a Realtor named Bob...

Who just happens to be the Realtor I went to, Kitt finished for him.

Yes. John admitted, smiling awkwardly.

That explains why he was so sure you wouldn’t sell, and then was so very surprised when you did. I’ll bet you don’t change your mind very often, she was unsure of what made her say that, but once she said it, she knew it was true.

Have I been so stubborn already? he asked, teasing.

Not at all, she quickly assured him. I’m not even sure why I said that. She admitted.

Because it’s true. I have to admit to a bit of a stubborn streak, John told her. By the way, were you thinking of going to Morgan in the next couple of days to look at furniture? John asked. Before Kitt had a chance to answer, he continued. I’m headed into Morgan tomorrow. If I took my truck, we could bring back some furniture with us.

I’d like that. Not that this picnic wasn’t fun, but eating all my meals on the floor would probably get old, quick!

Not to mention how uncomfortable sleeping on a wooden floor without a mattress might get, John added.

They made plans for John to pick Kitt up at 8:00 the next morning. Kitt washed the picnic dishes, and John dried. When