Wicked Eddies by Beth Groundwater Read Free Book Online Page A

picked out the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, and a few more of the constellations her uncle had taught her to identify. The Milky Way was evident, even with the faint light pollution coming from the center of Salida.
    Along the edge of its wide swath, thin ghostly fingers of cirrus clouds stretched from the Sawatch Range to the west, obscur ing a
few stars. The glow of the half moon tinged the edges of dark clouds piled up along the range. The wind had picked up, so Mandy surmised the cold front would pass over the Arkansas Valley during the night. Probably wouldn’t dip below freezing yet, though, so her marigolds would last awhile longer. She took a deep breath of the pine-scented air, then walked in the front door.
    Rob had let himself in with his key and was sitting on the sofa that Mandy had saved from her parents’ house after they’d died in a car crash, leaving her at seventeen to be raised to adulthood by her Uncle Bill. While flipping through channels on the TV, Rob was vigorously scratching behind Lucky’s ears. The dog’s head lay on his lap with eyes closed and mouth open, obviously in nirvana.
    When Rob saw her come in, he turned off the TV. “I’d get up and give you a hug, but I hate to disturb Lucky here.”
    Lucky opened an eye and panted a greeting at her, then returned to enjoying his head rub.
    â€œDisloyal mutt,” Mandy said to the dog then leaned over to give Rob a kiss. She smelled beer on his breath. After spotting the Pacifico can on the old scratched coffee table, next to Rob’s stockinged feet, she picked it up and shook it. It was empty. “Need another?”
    â€œSure, thanks. It was a long day. Had to patch one of the rafts.”
    Mandy pulled out another of the Pacifico beers Rob kept stored in her fridge and saw the carton of eggs, jar of salsa, and package of flour tortillas he’d brought for breakfast tomorrow. His keys were on the card table in her kitchen that served as her dining table, his work boots lay on the mat by the front door, and his jacket was slung over one of the folding chairs.
    A lot of his stuff had migrated over to her tiny house while they’d been dating, toothbrush and shaver in the bathroom, odd pieces of clothing, a battered guitar, some of his country rock CDs. Of course, she had a toothbrush, sleep shirt, and some other things at his place, too. If Mandy thought too hard about where this relationship was going, it got too scary, so she had resolved awhile ago to just take it one day at a time.
    She knew Rob wanted more, a lot more. And with his mama pressuring him to make their relationship legal, Mandy wasn’t sure how long he would be willing to wait for her to get comfortable with the idea of m, m, marriage. Imagining Rob’s mama pleading with him to settle down and produce some grandkids for her to dote on, Mandy shuddered. She’d worked hard to become independent because she had to. And the thought of being responsible for raising kids scared the bejeebees out of her.
    As if he could sense that she was thinking about him, Rob asked, “Did you get lost in la-la land out there?”
    â€œI’m getting some water for myself, too.” Mandy poured a glass and returned with the drinks. She sat next to Rob, on the other side of the sofa from where Lucky lolled.
    Rob grinned at her over his beer. “I could get used to this kind of service.”
    Mandy blew a raspberry. “Was the raft you had to patch one of Uncle Bill’s?”
    He nodded while he drank his beer. “We’ll probably have to replace a couple of his rafts once the season ends. You can only patch so many times.”
    â€œDamn, I hope you’re not sorry about merging the two companies. Uncle Bill’s tired old equipment wasn’t worth much.”
    Rob stroked her thigh. “No, but his customer list was worth a lot, and the vehicles, and I sure value my silent partner.” He pinched above her knee,