Muriel had never been the most athletic girl in town. She still wasn’t. She tripped over a tree root and tumbled down the bank, oomphing her way right into the shallows of the creek. She staggered to her feet, muddy and wet, and stared up at the falls.
All she saw was water.
Wishful seeing, she told herself in disgust as she made her way back up the bank. There was no proposal in her future.
She was never walking Lost Bride Trail again. Ever.
Labor Day weekend. It was the last hurrah for the grade school and high school kids, and the starting flag for many of the older ones. Pat would soon be attending Cascade Junior College and Olivia was looking into culinary school. Lenny was going to nearby Washington State University and Nils had been accepted at the University of Washington, where he wanted to study to become a pharmacist. Before leaving, though, he’d proposed to Hildy and she’d promised to wait for him. Hank Carp had gotten Stephie pregnant and they were getting married the following weekend. Even Arnie was moving on, bound for the University of Washington, like Nils, where he was planning on majoring in business.
Muriel was staying put, working at Sweet Dreams. And she’d decided she was happy about that. Daddy had given her an assignment that she was truly enjoying—designing a logo for their growing company. And he’d promised to let her write the ad copy for their next catalog. It wouldn’t be quite as exciting as writing for Seventeen or Woman’s Day, but it would come close.
Yes, she’d decided she was perfectly happy with where she was in life. After all, how many women had their very own chocolate factory?
Still, as Friday wound down, she found herself looking out the office window at the Wenatchee River, thinking about her life and sighing. Something was missing.
Make that someone.
She shook her head. What was the point of revisiting that old dream? She needed to move on with her life. Maybe she’d take some evening classes at Cascade Junior College, try her hand at writing a novel. Or possibly submit some more magazine articles. “How to Survive a Breakup,” by Muriel Patrick, chocoholic. Except moping probably didn’t count as good advice.
She was just locking up the gift shop when she heard the roar of a motorcycle coming down the street. She turned and saw a lean man in jeans and a black leather jacket with blond hair. Short blond hair? Still, there was no mistaking who it was.
“Stephen!” She dropped her purse and ran to meet him, barely giving him time to stop and turn off his bike. “You’re back,” she said gleefully, stating the obvious. Then she grabbed his arms and kissed him, right there on the street for anyone passing by to see.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
“Is that why you’re back?” This was too good to be true. Was he really here? She held on to his arms, sure he’d vanish if she let go.
“Yeah, it is. I need you in my life.”
“I’ll go away with you.”
“No. You’d just be helping me run away from my own insecurities. Anyway, this is where you belong so this is where I need to be.” He smiled. “It’s where I want to be.”
“Oh, Stephen!” she cried, and kissed him again.
“Get your purse, then hop on back,” he said. “I’ll take you home. It’s time your dad and I had a talk.”
If her father was surprised to find Stephen in the living room, sipping lemonade with Muriel and Mother when he came home from work, he didn’t show it. “I see you’re back.”
“Yes, sir, I am. I came to talk to you.”
“Come on, Muriel,” Mother said, “let’s go see about dinner.”
She didn’t want to see about dinner. She wanted to stay right here in the living room and supervise this all-important talk.
“We’ll be fine,” Stephen assured her, and Mother nudged her out of the room. Daddy made it final by shutting the pocket door in her face.
Happily, the phone rang. Her mother picked up the kitchen extension. “Oh, hello, Betty.”
That was a gift. Mother would be talking to Mrs. Green for a good fifteen minutes. Muriel escaped and hurried down the hall, where she positioned herself by the pocket door. She pressed her ear to it.
“I see you cut your hair,” Daddy was saying.
Muriel had to stifle a groan. This wasn’t going well.
“It’s easier to take care of when it’s short.”
“Is that what you’re about, young man? Taking the easy way?”
“If it was, I wouldn’t be here, sir. If it was, I’d have gone to Canada instead of ’Nam.”
“You were in Vietnam?”
“Yes.” The word came out curtly.
“Well,” Daddy said slowly. “I had no idea. Did a tour in Korea myself. A man sees things.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“So, why are you back in town?”
“I think you can figure that out, Mr. Patrick.”
Muriel smiled.
“You could’ve come to me the first time, you know,” Daddy said sternly.
“I could have. But Muriel made it clear you didn’t want to meet me.”
All that sneaking off to meet him, it had seemed like such a smart idea. Now she realized it had been immature and foolish and had done nothing to help the cause.
“Did she?” Daddy said thoughtfully. “Well, she was right. You didn’t look like the kind of man I want for my daughter. And I’m still not convinced you are. What are your plans for the future?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Stephen admitted. “But one thing I do know—Muriel’s the most important part of it.”
It was all she could do not to open the door, fly into the room and throw herself into Stephen’s arms.
“Look, I’m not a bum,” Stephen said, “and I want to marry your daughter.”
“She’s too young,” Daddy told him.
“I’ll wait until she’s old enough, then.”
“And just what will you do while you’re waiting, ride around on that motorcycle of yours?”
“I’ll do whatever I need to do—dig ditches, drive a delivery truck.”
“And that’s how
