Angel's Rest(119)

“Amen, son.”

Thinking he’d had a hit, Colt tugged on the line. Nope. Nada. He made another cast, then laughed. “Know what I was dreaming about when you woke me up this morning? Senior trip.”

Ben Rafferty gave a long-suffering sigh. “And people think preachers’ kids are wild. Teachers’ kids are ten times worse.”

“Aw, c’mon, Dad. I wasn’t wild.”

Ben snorted. “Sure you were. You were also the most stubborn, hardheaded, determined boy on the planet. Once you got an idea in your head, there was no stopping you. Don’t see how that’s changed, either.”

“Being tenacious is an asset in my work.”

“Sure made it a challenge to be your father.”

After that, conversation lagged as the two men went about the serious business of fishing. For that stretch of time, Colt was as happy as he’d been in months. I really need to get to Colorado more often.

“Woo-hoo,” Ben called out, snagging Colt’s attention as he landed the first fish. “Better get to work, boyo. I’ll be having myself a fine trout breakfast and you’ll be eating cereal.”

“Not gonna happen.” Colt proved his claim by catching the next two, which led to some good-hearted grumbling from his father.

Time passed and Colt soaked in the peacefulness of the morning. The air carried the tangy scent of a cedar campfire, and above him a hawk soared on a subtle breeze. Worries about the upcoming committee meeting nagged at the edges of his brain, but as Ben Rafferty pulled another rainbow trout from Hummingbird Lake, Colt lifted his gaze toward Murphy Mountain, tucked his worries away, and allowed Eternity Springs to work its mojo on him. He was here, fishing with his dad. Life was good.

“I’m glad you could make it up here this week, Dad.”

“I am too, son. Wish Mom could have come along, too, but she insisted that we needed some …” He smirked and stressed the next words. “Male bonding time. Personally, I think she’s laying the groundwork to take a girls’ trip with your sister. I’ve heard them whispering about a spa weekend.”

“If Mom and Molly want a spa holiday, they should come up here. I have it on good authority that Angel’s Rest has hired the best masseuse this side of the Mississippi.”

His dad glanced over at him. “Speaking of Angel’s Rest, when do I get to see this sign of yours? Mrs. Blessing went on and on about it and about your artistic talent yesterday when I checked in.”

“She was happy with the sign.”

“Happy? Now there’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. She told me that you have enough talent to make your living as an artist.”

Colt shook his head at that nonsense and changed the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking it’s about time for breakfast.”

“Sounds good.” His father jerked his head toward their fishing creels. “You clean ’em, I’ll cook ’em.”

“That’s a deal.”

Back at the carriage house with the aroma of fried trout drifting on the morning air, Colt looked through the kitchen window toward a mountainside gone gloriously gold with the color of aspens in autumn and smiled. The town’s newly adopted slogan couldn’t be more suitable: Eternity Springs—it’s a little piece of heaven in the Colorado Rockies.

“I love it here, Dad. I need to visit more often.”

“Then do it.”

“How? My job is in D.C.”

Ben Rafferty slapped him on the back. “You’ll find a way to get what you want, son. You always do.”