sitting empty and going downhill for years now.”
“Those old Chapman cabins?” Jack asked. “The old man died just last year.”
“Yeah, I know,” Luke said. “I was back here hunting with one of my brothers and a couple of friends when we first saw them. My brother and I thought the location, right on the river, might be worth some money. We noticed the cabins weren’t in use and wanted to buy ’em and fix ’em up for a quick resale, turn ’em fast and make a couple of bucks. But old Chapman wouldn’t even listen to an offer….”
“It would have left him homeless,” Jack said, giving the bar a wipe with a cloth. “He wouldn’t have had too many options, and he was all alone.”
Luke took a drink of his icy beer. “Exactly. So we bought the whole property, including his house, and told him he could stay there, rent free, for life. It turned out to be seven years.”
Jack grinned. “Sweet deal for him. Smart deal for you. Property doesn’t come available around here that often.”
“We could see right off the land under those cabins was worth more than the buildings, right on the river like that. I haven’t been able to get back here since, and my brother has only been up here once, just to have a look—he said nothing had changed.”
“What held you up?”
“Well,” he said, scratching the stubble on his chin. “Afghanistan. Iraq. Fort Bliss and a few other places.”
“Army?”
“Yeah. Twenty.”
“I did twenty in the Marine Corps,” Jack said. “I thought I’d come up here and serve up a few drinks, fish and hunt for the next twenty.”
“Yeah? Sounds like a good plan.”
“My plan got derailed by a cute little nurse midwife by the name of Melinda.” He grinned. “I would’ve been fine, but that woman does something to a pair of jeans that ought to be against the law.”
“That so?” Luke asked.
“Anyone can go fishing,” Jack said with a satisfied smile.
Luke didn’t mind seeing a man happy with his life. He smiled back. Then he asked, “Did you do most of this work yourself?”
“Most. I got some help, but I like taking credit where I can. This bar is a custom job, delivered to me finished. I installed the shelves and laid the hardwood floors. I didn’t trust myself with the plumbing and I screwed up the wiring enough to have to hire someone, but I’m good with wood—I managed to add a large one-room apartment onto the back to live in. My cook, Preacher, has it now and is adding on again—his family’s growing, but he likes living at the bar. You going to work on those cabins?”
“I’m going to look at the house first. Chapman was already pretty old when we bought the whole business—that house probably needs work. And I have no idea what shape the cabins are in, but I don’t have anything better to do right now. Worst case, I can fix up the house and live in it for a while. Best case, I can renovate the house and the cabins and put ’em on the market.”
“Where’s your brother?” Jack asked.
“Still active. Sean is stationed at Beale Air Force Base in the U-2. It’s just me for now.”
“What did you do for the army?” Jack asked him.
“Black Hawks.”
“Shew,” Jack said, shaking his head. “They go in some real hot spots.”
“Tell me about it. I came out the hard way.”
“You drive one in?” Jack asked.
“Hell, no,” he said indignantly. “I had to be shot down.”
Jack laughed. “Man. At least you got your twenty.”
“It wasn’t even the first time,” Luke said. “But in a moment of sheer genius, I decided it should be the last.”
“Something tells me we’ve been in some of the same places,” Jack said. “Maybe even at around the same time.”
“Saw some combat, did you?”
“Afghanistan, Somalia, Bosnia, Iraq. Twice.”
“Mogadishu,” Luke confirmed, shaking his head.
“Yeah, we left you boys in a mess. I hated that,” Jack said. “You lost a lot of brothers. I’m sorry, man.”
“It was bad,” Luke agreed. What started out as a relief mission sanctioned by the UN ended in a horrible uprising after the Marine Corps was pulled out and the army was left behind. Somalian warlord Aidid launched an attack that left eighteen U.S. Army soldiers dead and over ninety wounded in a bloody conflict. “One of these days, Jack, we’ll get drunk and talk about the battles.”
Jack reached out, grabbed Luke’s upper arm and said, “You bet. Welcome to the neighborhood, brother.”
“Now, tell me where to go for a night out that might include women, who to call if I need help with the house or cabins and what hours I can get a beer here,” Luke said.
“Been a long time since I’ve been looking for women, buddy. The coastal towns have some nice spots—try Fortuna or Eureka. There’s the Brookstone Inn in Ferndale—nice restaurant and bar. Old-town Eureka is always good. Then for something a little closer, there’s a little bar in Garberville with a jukebox.” He shrugged. “I remember seeing one or two pretty girls there. And I have just the guy for you if you need help with the remodel. A buddy of mine just moved a part of his family’s construction company down here from Oregon and he’s doing Preacher’s add-on. He helped me finish my house. He’s a helluva builder. Let me go get one of his cards.”
Jack went into the back and hadn’t been gone a minute when two women came into the bar and almost gave Luke a heart attack. A couple of pretty blondes, one in her thirties with curly golden hair and the other, much younger, with an unforgettable thick, honey-colored braid that hung down her back to her waist. The girl from the roadside; the one he saved from a muddy bath—Shelby. Both of them were wearing tight jeans and boots. The golden girl had on a loose-knit sweater, while Shelby wore the same crisp white shirt from earlier, sleeves rolled, collar open and tied at the waist. He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help looking at them, though they hadn’t noticed him at all. His immediate thought was that he wouldn’t have to go as far as Garberville. They jumped up on bar stools just as Jack came from the back.
“Hey, baby,” he said, leaning across the bar to the older of the two women, kissing her. Ah, Luke thought, those would be the illegal jeans that keep him from fishing. What man wouldn’t give up fishing to spend more of his time with a woman like that? “Meet a new neighbor. Luke Riordan, this is Mel, my wife, and Shelby McIntyre—she has family here.”
“Pleasure,” he said to the women.
“Luke here owns those old Chapman cabins on the river and he’s thinking of renovating. He’s ex-army, so we’re gonna let him stay.”
“Welcome,”
