4 Chapter 4: Middle of Nowhere

Cami

"This is it?" I whisper to myself as I stare through my windshield. It’s not that I was expecting a bunch of run-down shacks or anything, and what I’m seeing is exactly what was pictured on The Escape’s website, but for some reason I expected, less. Less, what, I don’t know.

There’s a large burnt red building that I assume is the lodge. And I got that assumption because it actually has a sign over the door that says Resort Lodge. My powers of deduction are astounding, obviously. When I first pulled in, I noticed the cabins lined up along the water’s edge but also with their backs facing the trees. The cabins do not look large or fancy, even from the outside. A small playground area is in the middle between the rows of cabins as well as a cement platform that has some stands in the center. A gazebo is over the cement, giving the space some cover and hanging down from the gazebo ceiling is a wooden sign that says, "Clean Your Catch".

Beside a group of trees there are some wooden bear carvings, and each cabin is labeled with a tree species and a number. There is even a road, and the term road is very suggestive here as it seems more as just an area to drive on that has bumpy gravel instead of grass, sign that reads Northern Pike Road intersects with Walleye Ave, from what I can see. I have no idea what kind of alternative universe I just wandered upon, but I think I like it. Rustic and charming are the first two words that come to mind. I was looking for a place where I’d be able to forget about life, and this seems like the perfect place to do it. I live in a city of close to one hundred thousand people and it appears that I’ll be around exactly one for the time being.

After I’d booked my vacation with Owen up here at The Escape without an end date, I’d gone through with my threat to Scott and changed the locks on all the doors. He was in his bed in the guest room sleeping when the guy came, making as much noise as possible, per my request. He stormed down the stairs, saw I meant business, and called his mom and dad to either tattle on me or whine to them about how unfair I was being. Whichever it was, I didn’t care.

I guess it’s lucky that his parents lived in the same city. They came over immediately to help him load up his stuff. His mom glared at me the entire time, while his dad gave me a hug and whispered that it was about time I kicked his son’s sorry ass out of the house. He even went as far as to apologize for his shitty behavior and made me promise to stay in touch, wishing me all the best. I always liked his father. We got along well and most of the time, I could see that the enabling behavior came from his mom. Part of me will miss him, but a bigger part of me won’t because he’s a connection to Scott and I want none. An eight-year marriage to a man who still looked to his parents for help with everything but tying his own shoes. An eight-year marriage that ended in nothing but anger is enough of a connection for a lifetime.

Everyone says to live a life with no regrets, or something similar to that, but it’s hard to do that when ending something makes you feel like a failure. Still, I wished I’d listened to the advice of the internet memes and realized I’d rather be a failure than live with the regret of clinging to something that wasn’t worth it in the first place.

As soon as Scott and his things were out of my house, I got to work packing everything I thought I would possibly need for an extended vacation in northern Minnesota. I also had to make a trip to the mall to get more winter gear. Living in Tennessee brings cold temperatures and sometimes snow, but I knew it would be nothing in comparison to what I’d find on the border of Canada in the middle of nowhere. And I wasn’t wrong. The farther north I got, the quicker the temperature fell and the deeper the snow seemed to be along the side of the roads.

Owen had mentioned in a confirmation email that he sent that I’d pretty much get the choice of where I wanted to stay because the cabins weren’t currently full and by the lack of extra vehicles here, I can see that he wasn’t exaggerating. Which isn’t surprising, considering that it’s a whopping twenty degrees here and from what my weather app is showing me, that’s a warm front that’s settled in and we can expect some wickedly cold temperatures in a few days.

From where I’m sitting in my car, I watch as Owen gets out of his pickup and moves around to unload his niece and nephew. When I first saw him at McDonald’s, I didn’t allow myself the time to really get a good look at him but now I can’t stop staring. There’s a really good reason women go gaga over a man with a baby in his arms. It’s like it triggers every single one of our erogenous zones and has them firing in tandem. Add in his killer smile and dark scruff, and kind hazel eyes, it’s enough to bring any jaded woman to her knees. Not that I’m jaded. At least not entirely. Sure, I’m leery about beginning a new relationship someday, but I also know that all men aren’t like Scott.

Owen’s sexy and even more handsome than the men I write about in my romance novels. I’m absolutely positive there’s a better word to describe him, but he has my words all tied up at the moment. When we’d met an hour ago, I was exhausted from just having survived an eighteen-hour drive by myself. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’d split the drive up into three days because I wanted to give myself plenty of time to get to the town where Owen offered to meet me without stressing over whether or not I’d fall asleep while driving.

The drive had been good for me, though. I spent the first four hours in complete silence, wanting the time to think. But then I started to go a little crazy, my mind playing tricks on me as I went through every what-if scenario possible.

What if my broken marriage and cheating husband was actually my fault?

What if what he said was true, that I was so focused on my career that I ignored him and pushed him into the arms of other women?

What if I lost all the good words that I have in me and my stories are dried up?

What if, what if, what if. All the questions. One of them? What if it was an endless cycle. Eventually, I turned on the satellite radio and jammed out to my favorite classic rock. The second the sounds filtered through my speakers, it was as if a peace came over me that I’d long forgotten. Scott hated the guitar-driven sounds of the bands from the 70’s and 80’s, the soft, but it was always my favorite.

The first night, I found a hotel and ordered in room service. The second night I became brave. I saw someone on Instagram chronicle her travels where she stayed in her car or tents along her road trip. While I wasn’t quite as brave as she was with a tent, I found a small campground that was open in the winter months, booked a single night’s stay and backed my car into the small space. I wished I knew how to start a fire, however, figure that sleeping in my car while it’s running in the middle of a strange campground was a large enough baby step. I moved around all my belongings in the back of my SUV and made myself a bed and had an admittedly horrible night of sleep. I was a nervous wreck the entire night and figured out that it probably takes a little more planning for spontaneous campground stays than I’d originally thought.

He pulls a car seat out of the pickup, walks to the front door, goes inside, and comes back a few moments later with empty arms. Slowly, he gets Brody out, his tiny little body cradled in Owen’s big arms. He spots me watching him and simply motions for me to follow him.

"Right. Duh. I probably look like an idiot just sitting here watching him while he manages two babies on his own."

Unbuckling, I lift my purse off the passenger seat and get out of my warm car and into the frigid temperatures, grateful that I dressed in so many layers, including my Ugg boots. I’m also glad that I purchased the SUV instead of the two-seater car that Scott was urging me to drive. If I’d have been in that tiny thing, I’d have gotten stuck in the snowy back roads we took to get here.

I follow him through the door and he turns his head and says quietly, "I’m going to lay him down quick then I’ll be right with you."

"Okay."

He grips the handle of the car seat that Issy is sleeping in and effortlessly carries them both up a set of stairs in the back of the lodge. I take the time alone to look around the large space. There’s a big stand up cooler like one you’d find in a gas station that’s filled with different soda, water, and juice on one side and food staples on the other. Milk, cheese, butter, eggs, and a few other items. Next to the cooler is a shelf that’s sparsely stocked with pantry and snack foods. Behind the long counter, there’s rows and rows of whatever it is people use when fishing. Nets and hooks among other things that I’ve never purchased or even touched in my life. I knew when I looked online that The Escape was on a large lake that was popular for fishing. Families as well as groups of fishermen stay up here and spend their days in fishing boats on the lake. My guess is during his busy months he keeps the lodge stocked with basic necessities for his guests.

He has a gift shop on the other side of the lodge with t-shirts and hoodies hanging from racks to purchase. I make a mental note to check them out later because I’m a sucker for a good souvenir. An open room with a pool table, ping pong and foosball, which looks like a ton of fun if you had someone to play with. There’s even a big TV hanging from the wall with inviting leather sofas that I could see Gretchen and me curling up on to watch some chick flicks. In the corner nestled in front of a stone wall stands a large black stove with glass in the front. More dark chocolate brown leather furniture is all aimed in the direction of the wood burning stove with a unique wooden coffee table in the center. It looks custom made by hand and I move closer, wanting to see if it feels as smooth as it looks.

"Sorry about that. I needed to get them settled into beds so they’d take good naps." Owen’s voice comes from behind me and I spin around and pull my hand back like I was about to be caught touching something I wasn’t supposed to.

He grins and adjusts the ball cap on his head even while holding a baby monitor. Wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt and jeans that look like he’s owned for several years, and a pair of well-worn brown work boots, he looks every bit of the sexy lumberjack I so often describe my heroes as. Only, something tells me there’s nothing about his attire that’s meant for anyone else’s benefit than his own.

"No worries. I snooped around a bit. I like it. I bet when you have full cabins they appreciate the lodge and the little shop over there."

"I think so. I like to keep it stocked during the summer months especially. Most of my guests arrive and don’t plan to leave unless forced. Which is perfect. That’s my goal, actually. For the guests to enjoy themselves enough that they don’t feel the need to be back in the middle of it all. Sorry that it’s pretty empty in here right now." He gestures behind us where the store is. "I should have asked if there was anything you’d need before you got up here or at least stocked up better before you came."

I shake my head. "No, it’s fine. I’ll be good for a while. I took your advice and brought plenty of groceries so I’ll be okay for a few weeks or longer."

He nods, moving over to the counter I noticed when I first walked in. "Well, the kids’ parents will be arriving late tomorrow to pick them up so if you forgot anything, let me know and I’ll have them grab it for you."

"I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you."

When he gets to the counter, he opens up a laptop and sets the baby monitor down.

"You gave me all the information I needed when you filled out the online form I sent over, so now I just need to get your signature and scan your credit card. After that I’ll show you around."

"Sounds good." I hand over my card, sign the printed out document he slides over, and he grabs three sets of keys, setting them next to the baby monitor.

He staples a few pages together then files them away in a cabinet beneath the counter. "I have a few areas you can choose from and they’re open for eight weeks." He shows me a map of the resort, which isn’t hard to follow but I appreciate the map anyway. He points to three cabins then another. "This one is reserved for a long weekend in six weeks. These here on the other side," he points to the cabins that back up to the trees, "are all open for eight weeks also. So really, you have your pick. If you’d like to be farther away from the lodge or closer, on the lakeside or against the tree line, it’s up to you."

"I think I’d like to look out onto the water."

He grins. "Yeah, it’s pretty, right?"

"It is. Even in the winter."

"Nah. Especially in the winter. Just wait and see. I have a space heater I’ll bring over so you can sit on the screened-in deck and look out on the water. It’s incredible and helps you forget about life. Gives you a reset."

I can’t stop the sigh that escapes my throat. "That sounds wonderful."

"All right then. Follow me, you can pick which cabin you’d like along the way and then I’ll bring some wood down to you."

"Wood?" I ask fearfully. I'd like to say that my voice didn't squeak a bit but I'd be lying like crazy.

His grin is a cross between sexy and boyish. And then he winks. "Don’t worry. There’s a heater, too, but the fire will be nice."

I shake my hands in front of me. "Uh, I’m not sure who you think I am, but this city girl has no idea how to start a fire."

He turns his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "City girls know how to start fires."

I let out a breathy laugh and shake my head, eyes wide. "This one doesn’t."

He shrugs, coming around the counter and joining me. "No big deal. I’ll show you how to start one so you’ll know."

That’s it. No teasing me that I don’t know how to do something that comes so easy to him. Scott would have called me stupid or an idiot and grumbled about having to help.

"Thank you. That’s very nice of you," I whisper. He watches me closely then nods once.

Owen picks up the baby monitor and the keys, opens the front door, and steps to the side. "After you."

My steps pause. Scott would have pushed through the door first and not cared if it slammed in my face rather than allow me to walk in front of him. Opening a door for me would have been too much effort. I hate that I gave that ass so many years of my life. I straighten my shoulders, determined that I won’t give him a second more. Not even in my thoughts.