With a Little Luck Read Online Free Page A

gaze of his son.
    “If you got married again, you could have more children,” Toby pointed out. “Have you thought about that?”
    “Yes, and I don’t know if I could handle another one of you,” Luck teased.
    With a sigh of exasperation, Toby protested. “Dad, will you please be serious? I am trying to discuss this intelligently with you. You wouldn’t necessarily have another boy. You could have a little girl.”
    “Is that what this is about? Do you want brothers and sisters?” There was something at the bottom of all this interest in a mother. Sooner or later, Luck felt he would uncover the reason.
    “Do you know that it’s really impossible to have a father-son conversation with you?” Toby declared with adult irritation. “You never answer my questions.
    You just ask me another. How am I ever going to learn anything?”
    “All right.” Luck crossed his arms in front of him and adopted a serious look. “What do you want to know?”
    “If you met the right girl, would you get married again?”
    “Yes, if I met the right girl,” he conceded with a slow nod.
    With a satisfied smile, Toby resumed his former position stretched out in the seat, his head pillowed in his hands, and stared at the sky. “I’ll help you look.”
    Luck took a deep breath, started to say something, then decided it was wiser to let the subject drop.
     
    THE LAKE COTTAGE was built of logs, complete with a front porch that overlooked the lake across the road. The rustic, yet modern structure was tucked in a forest clearing, a dense stand of pines forming a semicircle around it.
    Over the weekend, Eve Rowland and her parents had moved in lock, stock and barrel for the summer. It had been a labor of fun opening up their vacation home again and reawakening happy memories of previous summers.
    Standing on the porch, Eve gazed at the azure waters of Namekagon Lake. Here in the north-woods of Wisconsin and Minnesota was where the legend of Paul Bunyan and his blue ox, Babe, was born. According to the tales, Paul and Babe stomped around a little in Namekagon, just one of the many lakes in Wisconsin. Eve could remember looking at a map of the area as a child and believing the tale. The mythical figure of Paul Bunyan had been as real to her as the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus, even if he didn’t pass out presents.
    Eve lifted her head to the clear blue sky and breathed in the clean pinescented air. On a sigh of contentment, Eve turned and walked into the cottage. It was small, just two bedrooms, the kitchen separated from the living room by a table nook. She let the screen door bang shut. Her father had his fishing gear spread over the table and was working on one of his reels. Her mother was in the kitchen, fixing some potato salad to chill for the evening meal.
    “Is it all right if I use the car?” Eve asked. “I want to go to the store down the road. I’m out of shampoo and I’m going to need some suntan lotion.”
    “Sure,” Her father reached in his pants’ pocket and tossed her the car keys.
    “Was there anything you needed?” Eve reached to pick up her canvas purse where she’d left it on a sofa cushion.
    “Maybe some milk,” her mother answered, “but other than that, I can’t think of anything.”
    “Okay. I’ll be back later,” she called over her shoulder as she pushed open the door to the porch.
    Sliding into the driver’s seat of the sedan, Eve felt as bright and sunny as the summer afternoon. She had dressed to match her mood that day. The terry-cloth material of her short-sleeved top and slacks was a cheerful canary yellow, trimmed with white. A white hairband kept her brown hair away from her face, framing its oval shape.
    It was a short drive to the combination grocery and general store that served the resort community. The Rowland family had traded there many times in past summers, so Eve was a familiar face to the owners. She chatted with them a few minutes as she paid for her purchases.
    When she