Page 3 of The Runaway Bride of Blitzen Bay (Blitzen Bay)

Chapter Two

NASH

December 20

Blitzen Bay, California

“You expecting another Ice Age, Nash? It gets cold up here, but you couldn’t use this much firewood in three winters.”

My neighbor Sam walks around the enormous wall of firewood I’ve created in the three months I’ve lived here. I chop the log already queued up and leave the ax in the block.

“Hey, Sam.” I almost have to bend down to shake his outstretched hand. He’s no more than five foot, five. “Yeah, I’m going to have to give some of this away. I’ve been using it as a stress-reliever, but I might have gone a little far. Do you need any?”

“I’m set, but I’ll help you haul some over to the lot off Main Street. That’s where everybody puts stuff if they have extra.”

“I wondered what that was. People are always dropping off and picking up random stuff. Is it all free?”

“Yeah. Leave what you have too much of; take what you need. It’s kind of like a swap meet, I guess. People have been doing it for as long as I can remember. My favorite time is in the summer when people leave trays of strawberries. I’ve never had enough patience to grow them, but I sure like eating them.”

Every week, I learn something new about this town that makes me even happier I moved here. The week I retired from the army, my uncle invited me to stay with him in Palm Springs for a while. For weeks, I’d start from his house and drive in a different direction until the sun started to set. The time on the road almost made me forget what happened in Afghanistan.

One day I found myself in the San Bernardino Mountains. I stopped for lunch at a little town a few miles from Big Bear. The minute I drove into Blitzen Bay, I felt my blood pressure drop. I bought this house a week later.

“I’ve got a few more sets of blocks for you inside. C’mon in.” I motion him up the hill to my house.

He follows me through the new door I installed off my back deck. It’s one of about a hundred projects I have to do to get the house in decent condition. I wanted to be right on the lake. The only thing I could afford was a dilapidated one-bedroom house that no other buyer would touch.

“Sorry for the mess,” I say, shoving a pile of dirty clothes off the couch. I motion him toward it. “There’s coffee on the counter if you want some.”

I head to the small sun porch off the bedroom. I converted it into a workshop until I can build a separate one in the backyard. The lathe my grandpa left me takes up most of the room. The wood clippings and dust take up the rest. I grab the two sets of blocks I carved this week.

Sam’s sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter sipping what I can only imagine is very thick coffee. It’s been in the pot for at least three hours. He doesn’t look like he minds. Honestly, I’m not sure anything bothers him. Since I moved in next door, I’ve never seen him without a smile on his face.

“These are as beautiful as the rest,” he says as he pulls a few blocks out of the bag. “You’re talented. You said your grandpa taught you how to carve?”

“Yeah. I spent summers with my grandparents out in the middle of nowhere Texas. He taught me to carve and a lot of other things. Who taught you how to paint?”

Sam and I have started a little business. I carve sets of toy blocks and he paints them. He’s been taking them over to the Big Bear resorts to sell to the gift shops. They can’t get enough of them. He’s donating our profits to a hospice center. I’m guessing they took care of his wife before she died.

“I taught myself. After Holly died, I almost died myself—first of grief and then of boredom.” He rakes his wrinkled hands through the mop of thinning white curls on his head. “My daughter’s an artist. She started me off with some paint supplies. Then I got obsessed with it. I was painting furniture before you showed me your blocks. I like doing this better. We’re a good team.”

“That we are,” I say, nodding. “How long ago did your wife die?”

“A couple years back. I didn’t think anything could be as hard as the PTSD I had after Vietnam, but losing her was about a hundred times worse. She helped me get over the stuff I saw in the war, but I didn’t have anyone to help me get over her. Not that it’s possible anyway. There’s no getting over that woman. She was the love of my life.”

My parents got divorced when I was ten, but my grandparents had that kind of all-consuming love. I haven’t even come close to finding it. Of course, I’ve been in the army since I was eighteen. I haven’t had much time for dating. Now, almost a decade later, I’m not sure what woman would want me.

“You seeing anyone?” Sam asks as he takes another sip of coffee.

“Naw. The only thing I’m looking for right now is a little peace.”

“The right woman can deliver peace to you. That’s what Holly did for me. The minute I met her, it felt like my body slammed on the brakes and finally took a deep breath. She always said her peace and my chaos combined to make the perfect energy.”

“Well, I’m the peaceful one, so I guess I’m looking for the female version of chaos if I’m going to have as good a relationship as you had,” I say, laughing. “Maybe I could use a little of that in my life. I promise I’ll be on the lookout for her.”

Sam laughs as he rinses his mug in the sink. “Hey, you should come over to Big Bear with me the next time I deliver these. All the resorts are decked out for Christmas. It’s really beautiful.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not much in the Christmas mood this year. Maybe next year.”

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