Page 1 of Lumberjack John
Chapter 1
Long Lake, WI
October
Frankie held up her phone. “Well, I've finally made it. The trip was abysmal and I’m absolutely knackered." She scanned the small room she'd booked at the local inn, her nose wrinkling at the dated décor. But the sturdy wood furniture and ancient armoire held a polished shine. And she was fairly certain she could run a white-gloved finger across any surface and it would come away clean. The owner clearly took pride in her establishment and Frankie wondered idly how long it had been a hotel. "It's not much, but it'll be fine for the week."
"Oh, that's fabulous! I have so many questions."
Frankie rolled her eyes. Of course her boss and best friend, Sharon Higgins, would ignore the part about the horrific connecting flights or that Frankie was utterly exhausted. The woman could wax on and on about minute details of the most asinine things when she was excited about a topic. And Sharon was definitely excited about Wisconsin. She was the Executive Director of the British Arborist Society and a devotedsingle mother. This visit to the United States was one she had desperately wanted to make herself, but family obligations did not permit it. She was not happy about that and made sure everyone knew.
Thus, Frankie, who was gloriously single and unencumbered, had been recruited to make the trip in Sharon's stead. It didn’t hurt that Frankie had special ties to this area of Wisconsin, a connection she believed would help her in her mission to win Mr. Robbins to their cause.
"Is it as rustic as we imagined?" Sharon peppered her with questions. "What's the weather like? Is the sun shining? Is it warm? Are the men gorgeous? Tell meeverything!"
Frankie chuckled, tucking her cell phone into her shoulder as she unpacked her suitcase. "Well, the inn is rather rustic and quaint." Her gaze landed on a wood carving of a bear standing guard near the door. "The weather is definitely not warm because it's late October. It's a bit chilly and breezy today, but the sun is shining through the clouds as we speak." She opened the blinds, letting in the light. "And I have no idea about the men."
“Pfft!” Sharon huffed, signaling her impatience. "How could you have no idea? Do you not have eyes in your head, girl?" she griped. "Please do not forget that I am living vicariously through you. It is your responsibility to be as flamboyant, flirtatious, and ridiculous as possible. And then report back to me,in detail." She enunciated the last two words.
Frankie snorted. "That is where you are wrong,MizzHiggins. My responsibility is to learn what it is that makes this section of Wisconsin so incredibly successful at reforestation and to enlist Mr. Robbins in our efforts, remember? It does not include picking up studs from seedy bars or seducing unsuspecting men from the local lakes. Which, if I'm being honest, soundsincredibly dangerous. I've heard Yanks can be absolutely unpredictable and beastly."
"Ohhh! Studs in a seedy American bar? Seducing multiple men?! Yes, please!" Sharon’s tone was completely serious. "Not all at once, mind you. But you could easily fit in two or three steamy liaisons before you return home. Promise me you'll do that and then give me all the salacious details, particularly if those men are especiallybeastly."
"For the love of… Sharon, is that all you think about?"
"Darling, when you have a wanker of an ex-husband who originated from the eighth circle of hell, and a thirteen-year-old boy who refuses to pick up his shatted underwear and crusty tube socks from his bedroom floor, then maybe you’ll understand," Sharon snarked. "Until then, you will provide me with all your shady escapades, and I will hear nothing else about it."
Frankie poked her head into the bathroom, relieved to find a pristine bathtub and toilet. "My room is spotless. That is such a relief. Oh, another thing: it is very colorful here, so many greens, yellows, oranges, reds. The innkeeper said I've arrived just past the peak of their fall foliage. The trees are like a beautiful floral bouquet. You would love it. In fact, I haven't seen vegetation like this since we visited British Columbia several years ago."
"Oh, yes, that trip. I did enjoy it. Those Canadian men were terribly flirty and their shoulders so broad, asses so tight." Sharon sighed. "So, what is your first order of business?"
"Track down Mr. Robbins immediately and request a tour of the area. I have so many questions for him. There is an abundance of tree species here. Several I've never seen before. It's fascinating, actually, given that the entire area was decimated by fire one hundred and fifty years ago. It gives me hope that with hard work and some of Mr. Robbins’ knowledge, we can lay the foundation for something similar at home."
"It's midday there, yes? That should give you plenty of time to track the rascal down. I do hope he's attractive."
Frankie rolled her eyes. "Sharon, you are outrageous. I have no intention of getting involved with anyone here, especially Mr. Robbins. Besides, he's probably married and old, maybe a hunchback with gout and a wart on his nose or something nearly as hideous."
"Well, that sounds charming," Sharon remarked dryly. "Just get out there and enjoy yourself for a change. You spend too much time alone as it is. But please, love, do not embarrass us. Remember your manners and be pleasant and persuasive. Having Mr. Robbins on our side would be a game changer for the Society."
"Mmmhmmm. I'll be all those things." Frankie pulled a weathered red leather journal from her backpack. "I also have my secret weapon," she muttered softly.
"What was that, love?" Sharon asked.
Frankie rubbed a thumb lovingly over the worn cover. "Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself. We'll talk soon. Give Isaac my love. Cheers." She ended the call with the tap of her finger and tossed the phone on the bed, then stashed the journal back in her backpack.
Walking to the bathroom sink, she splashed cold water on her face and blotted it dry, then refreshed her light makeup and ran a brush through her thick chestnut tresses. It wouldn't hurt to look her best for the decrepit Mr. Robbins, or anyone else she might run into in town. You never got a second chance to make a first impression, her grandmother had always said. Plus as Sharon rightly pointed out, she was representing the Society and needed to conduct herself accordingly.
She blew a kiss to herself, then grabbed her backpack and practically skipped down to the inn's front room, feeling a rush of energy. A smiling Mrs. Owens greeted her from behind thesmall front desk. The friendly innkeeper had been excited to have a visitor from London, and she’d been nothing but cheerful since Frankie had arrived.
"You're headed out already?” Mrs. Owens smoothed back her graying blonde hair that had been pinned meticulously to the back of her head. “Will you be joining us for dinner this evening? We'll be having my famous meatloaf. It’s won awards at the county fair ten years in a row."
“That sounds lovely, Mrs. Owens. I can’t wait to try it.” Frankie pointed at the large front door. "Right now, I'm going to the ranger's station. But I will be back no later than six o'clock."
The squat woman waved a dismissing hand. "Please call me Maysie, dear. And you be careful out there. We're supposed to get weather soon, so don't be gone too long."
"I'll be careful. Cheers, Mrs.—I mean Maysie," Frankie corrected as she tossed a wave over her shoulder and hurried outside.
***
