Page 72 of Crossing the Line
On one side of the strip, a thick copse of scrubby pine trees spiked toward the blue sky. On the other, the rolling green of mountains dominated the horizon, still white capped even in June.
The plane came to a neat stop, andIdle Lake’s population had just increased by two,Waverly thought.
The attendants cleared their exit, and Xavier led the way down the plane’s stairs to the tarmac. The Colorado sun warmed her cool skin, and the change of scenery so different from Bel Air distracted her from the nerves collecting in her belly.
A shrill whistle cut through the air, and Waverly spotted a man approaching the plane. He wore neatly pressed charcoal chinos and a button down, sleeves rolled up in deference to the weather. Even from this distance, she could see the family resemblance: the way he moved, that ambling stride of purpose and the grin, though she’d only seen it rarely on his son.
Xavier met him on the asphalt and wrapped the man in a bear hug, slapping him on the back. She couldn’t hear their exchange, but their laughter carried.
Had she and her mother ever been that happy to see each other? Had they ever exchanged such an easy and bright greeting?
Both men turned as she approached, and Xavier held out his hand to her. She took it without thinking and let him pull her into his family fold. “Waverly, I’d like you to meet my father, Emmett. Dad, this is Waverly, your house guest for the weekend.”
Waverly smiled and offered her hand to the man. “Thank you for letting me invade your home, Mr. Saint.”
“Please, call me Emmett,” he said, engulfing her hand in his. “And I should be thanking you for putting my son on a plane to see us.”
She waited for the inevitable awkwardness that usually arrived hand in hand with an introduction, that flicker of recognition and the ensuing judgments that followed. But there was nothing but easy friendliness in Emmett’s eyes.
Xavier certainly came by his looks honestly, Waverly decided. Emmett’s hair was a shade or two darker and flecked with silver. It took to curl on top, and Waverly wondered if Xavier’s would do the same if it were longer.
Emmett’s eyes were a gray blue and crinkled at the sides when he smiled. And that smile, just slightly off-center, reminded her so much of his son.
Their bags were loaded into a tidy late model crossover, and Emmett slid behind the wheel. Waverly grinned when Xavier made a move to slide into the backseat next to her. “I think I’ll be fine back here by myself, X.”
“Old habits,” he said with a wink and took the passenger seat. Emmett navigated through the cozy mountain town calling out landmarks of interest to Waverly. The high school where Xavier had captained the cross-country team. The community pool where Xavier had lifeguarded for two summers and where he’d saved little Alex Lewis. And did Xavier know that Alex was a sophomore in high school now and just passed his lifeguarding exam?
When Emmett pointed out the park where Xavier had gotten caught necking with a girlfriend in high school, his son drew the line.
“Dad.”
“Uh-oh, Emmett. He’s using the ‘you’re-in-trouble’ voice on you,” Waverly teased from the backseat.
“I see you’re familiar with my son’s bossy tone. He gets it from his mother.” Emmett winked at her in the rearview mirror.
The Saint men bantered back and forth through the downtown, where Emmett had someone to wave to on every block. Idle Lake had all the feel of a frontier gold mining town with its cluster of painted wooden storefronts and boardwalk-style sidewalks. Down cross streets, Waverly caught glimpses of the glittering lake water that beckoned residents on a lazy summer afternoon.
The storefronts ended, and miles of sidewalk began. Houses styled after log cabins dotted the streets on spacious lots. Every home had a view of the mountains that loomed over the town, and every neighborhood was prettier than the next, and then they were turning onto a paved driveway.
She wasn’t sure where she’d pictured broody, perfect Xavier growing up, but it wasn’t here in the stucco and stone home with its copper and cedar shake accents. It wasn’t grandiose like the neighborhoods Waverly had grown up in. But it had charm from its traditional architecture blending perfectly into the wooded lot. An emerald green lawn rolled out from the front porch to the sidewalk and street.
No need for security gates and walls here.
The house said family, tradition, foundation.
They would know their neighbors here, Waverly thought.Kids would play together moving from backyard to backyard while parents enjoyed a drink and the sunset from the deck.
Emmett eased up to the detached two-car garage in the same stucco and stone as the house. “We’re home,” he announced, shutting off the engine.
Waverly saw the curve of Xavier’s smile as he peered through the windshield at the house. Xavier Saint was home.
They piled out of the car and followed Emmett toward a side entrance facing the garage when a giant gray furball shoved its way through the screen door.
“Hamilton!” The delight in Xavier’s voice tickled something deep in Waverly’s chest.
The dog lumbered its great bulk down the three short steps to the walkway and romped into Xavier’s waiting arms. When he dropped to his knees to give the dog’s fur an appropriate ruffle, Hamilton jumped his meaty paws to Xavier’s shoulder and licked the sunglasses off his face.
Xavier laughed.
