Elizabeth Coldwell Stranded in Paradise

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thinking we could drive out into the countryside, light a
fire, get back to nature & His fingers skittered back and
forth along the pole, the gesture unmistakably sexual.
Alfie grinned. What happened to the world-famous
spaghetti sauce?
Ah, I didn t tell you. I also make world-famous
s mores.
From the baffled look on his face, Alfie clearly didn t
have a clue what a s more was. Ray smiled to himself as
he handed over ten dollars to pay for the tent.
Enlightening the boy was going to be so much fun.
The Kirkpatrick Basin area, less than ten miles down the
interstate from Paradise, had been developed over the past
decade as a wetland area for wild birds. In the spring, it
was a magnet for migrating ducks and snow geese as they
returned north, but in the high summer months there were
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fewer birds and fewer overnight visitors. Ray filled Alfie
in on the history of the area as he loaded his newly-
acquired tent, along with all the other bits and pieces they
would need for a night s camping into the back of his
pick-up truck.
As they made the short drive out to the reserve, Alfie
realised he must have passed the spot on his long, arduous
trek from where Brad had dumped him. He didn t
remember it at all. He d done his best to blot that whole
day from his memory. But if he hadn t fought with Brad,
he d never have found himself banging on the door of
Ray s diner, never taken the first, faltering steps on what
could prove to be the path to something really special &
What was he thinking? He had to stop regarding his
relationship with Ray as anything more than a summer
fling, assuming it even progressed that far. Anything else
was far too complicated, not to mention unlikely.
Parking the truck in the car park at the entrance to the
reserve, they followed a trail out into the low-lying
grasslands. A notice in the car park informed them of the
permitted behaviour once they were on Nebraska Game
and Parks Commission land. There were no restrictions
when it came to pitching their tent, but they could only
light a fire in the fireplaces provided. Alfie had no idea
whether wildfires were common in the area, but it seemed
like a sensible enough precaution.
It didn t take them long to find a suitable site, in a
sheltered hollow, and between them they set about putting
up the tent. Dusk was falling, and it seemed to Alfie they
could be the only two people left in the world, such was
the sense of solitude around them. Only the occasional cry
of a night bird broke the stillness.
Ray set about constructing and lighting their fire, using
kindling and firelighters he d picked up at the general
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store. Alfie realised that once Ray got an idea in his head,
he pursued it with single-minded thoroughness. He
supposed that had helped with everything he d had to do
on his return to Paradise. When he d been talking about
his father s illness, and his promise to keep the diner
open, Alfie had sensed there d been more to the story,
something Ray wasn t yet willing to reveal. Perhaps it had
something to do with his reluctance to admit his true
sexuality to the world. All Alfie knew was that Ray would
talk about it in his own sweet time.
Along with everything else they needed, Ray had
brought a small wicker hamper. He opened it to reveal,
among other things, a vacuum flask. Fancy a drink? I
made some Irish coffee before we left.
He poured a generous amount into a plastic mug, and
handed it to Alfie. The coffee had been liberally laced
with whiskey, and as Alfie took a sip he felt it warming
him all the way to his belly.
OK, so let s get those s mores on the go, Ray
announced, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
A s more, Alfie quickly learned, consisted of a
marshmallow toasted over the fire till it melted, before
being sandwiched, along with a square of chocolate,
between two Graham crackers, the American equivalent
of digestive biscuits. They were messy to make, but
delicious to eat, and there was something almost hypnotic
about staring into the fire, watching the marshmallow
slowly turn molten on the point of a stick.
I told you this would be fun. Ray s eyes shone in the
light from the campfire. He divided the last of the coffee
between his own mug and Alfie s. You having a good
time, Alfie?
I can t remember the last time I had a better one,
Alfie admitted. Saturdays back in Boston, he d usually be
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cooped up in his room, studying, oblivious to the fact
everyone around him was partying. Sometimes he d find
himself being dragged out for a couple of beers, or to see
one of the many covers bands that played the local bar
circuit. Never would he have imagined he d find himself [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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