by Jenna Mindel
He’d rushed that relationship when he’d had all the time in the world to make sure it was right. He didn’t have that kind of time with Bree. Not enough time to trust these new feelings. He’d been wrong before, but could Bree be right—for him?
His youngest sister, Erin, sat next to him and leaned close to whisper, “She’s good.”
“Huh?” Darren’s thoughts scattered.
“Your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my—”
Erin gave him a look. “Oh, come on. She just looked at you as if she’s wandered the desert and you’re fresh water.”
Darren felt his face heat. “Yeah, well...”
Erin giggled. “And you looked back the same way.”
“Would you stop?”
His little sister grinned. “It’s all good. I get it.”
Darren didn’t like the idea of Erin “getting” anything. His sister might be an adult, but to him, she’d forever be that sweet twelve-year-old who’d begged to tag along.
“What a scowl,” Erin teased.
He pinched his sister’s knee. “I’m trying to listen.”
Erin squirmed, bumping the table. And that earned them a fierce look from their mom.
Darren glanced at Bree.
A hint of a smile hovered around her lips, barely creasing those dimples. She’d seen them alright, but it hadn’t thrown off her concentration. This gig was probably child’s play for her.
The mini concert ended and the audience clapped. Darren watched as the quartet stood and bowed. Could Bree join them now? The restaurant staff lifted the chafing dish lids on the long buffet table, and folks lined up for brunch. The quartet resumed playing as background music.
He sighed. How long would he have to wait to talk to her?
If he wanted his family to believe he and Bree were merely friends, he’d give her a wave and go. If he was smart, he’d stop seeing her outside the wild edibles class as if they were dating. He’d simply wait until Tuesday to see her again.
If he was smart, he’d stop thinking there could be anything more than merely a brief connection, a temporary courtship with Bree.
Chapter Nine
Darren was early and remained in the van. He wasn’t in the mood for today’s class. Maybe because Bree’s mom planned to go, and that put him under the microscope. Joan Anderson had a way of looking over her glasses at him, as if inspecting and then finding him lacking somehow. It put him on edge.
He’d entered field reports for the last couple of days into his laptop while waiting. The windows were down, but the breeze off the lake was much too warm for early May. Crazy weather. Cold then hot.
“Good, you’re here.” Stella didn’t wait for an invitation. She climbed right up into the front passenger seat.
He hadn’t heard her approach and chuckled. “So are you. What’s up?”
“I had to drop some letters in the mail, so I left the cottage early. Plus, I’m nosy. What’s going on with you and Bree? Joan says you’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”
Darren saved his document and then closed the laptop lid. “Simply showing her the sights as offered at your house over dinner.”
Stella gave him a satisfied grin. “Exactly. And?”
“And nothing.” But that wasn’t true. His attraction to her had started the minute they’d met. No matter how Darren looked at it, this relationship couldn’t end well. “It’s not like that, Stel. She’s a nice girl and all, but—”
Stella narrowed her gaze. “She’s no girl. She’s a full-grown woman who’s accomplished and professional.”
All the more reason why she wouldn’t stick around. “I realize that, but—”
“But what?”
Darren offered up the easiest excuse handy. “I’m not interested.”
Not interested in getting hurt. Not interested in becoming the object of disapproval from yet another Bay Willows family.
“Joan’s worried you’ll sweep Bree off her feet.”
Darren laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Stella lowered her voice. “You’re the kind of guy Bree needs.”
Darren took the bait. “And what kind is that?”
“The kind who will support and cherish her. You’re the keeper kind.”
Darren snorted. He wouldn’t keep well for two years while she chased after whatever it was she wanted. “What makes you think she’d keep me? She just got rid of her last boyfriend.”
“Yeah, finally.” Stella’s expression didn’t joke. She looked far too serious.
“What makes you say that?”
“He was very image-oriented. He treated Bree—” Stella suddenly stopped and waved out of the open window.
Bree and her mom pulled into the parking space next to them.
Darren nearly growled. Nice timing. It should have been enough to know that Stella didn’t like the way this guy had treated Bree, but it wasn’t. Bree had said that her parents had loved the guy.
He got out of the van and spotted crutches in the backseat of Bree’s car. As much as he wanted to talk to Bree, he needed to schmooze her mom a little. That meant putting to rest any fears Joan had about him sweeping Bree off her feet. As if he could.
He needed Joan’s stamp of approval when it came to job performance. He cleared his throat. “Hi, Joan. Do you need help getting in the van?”
“Thank you, but no, Bree will drive.”
He looked at Bree.
“I’ll follow you,” she said.
Changing the location of today’s morel hunt proved a good idea considering Joan’s physical limitations. She could hang out on his parents’ deck instead of trying to negotiate uneven ground in the woods.
Maybe that would earn him points. His folks were good people. “Let me see your phone.”
Bree placed a gold rhinestone–encrusted case in his hand.
He looked at the gaudy thing, flipped it over and then looked at her. “Really?”
“What? Stella gave me that.” Her voice challenged him to make something of it.
He chuckled. The case looked like something Stella might pick out. He pulled up Bree’s GPS app, punched in his parents’ address and then showed her the map. “It’s about ten miles north of town, in case we get separated. Watch out for this curve right here.” He pointed to the road that suddenly veered left after topping a hill. “It can be dangerous if you’re going too fast.”
“I’ll be careful. Thanks.” No irritated tone this time at his caution.
He tapped the roof of her car and looked around.
Across the street he spotted the rest of their class swarming toward them. They looked every bit the country club crowd, dressed in summery shorts and bright colors. Even Ed, who approached from a block away yet, wore a pair of multicolored shorts Darren wouldn’t have been caught dead in. As a regional supervisor, Darren would need to lead by example. And that might mean treating the summer crowd a little more softly. Could he do it?
To everything there is a season...
Maybe this was his season of change.
He glanced at Bree still seated in her car, chatting with her mom. The sound of multiple conversations going at once flooded his senses, pushing out his thoughts. He’d been standing around deep in thought while everyone waited for directions. Waited for his leadership. About time he stepped up.
Darren clapped his hands together once. “Let’s load up and head out.”
In the van, he took a head count and then made his way north to his parents’ home. Talk about worlds colliding. He was about to set loose a group of folks from Bay Willows in his family’s woods. At least his parents had his back if anything went wrong.
He hoped Bree did, too.
* * *
Bre
e followed Darren as he pulled into a long circular gravel drive surrounded by a rich green lawn. A huge log-styled home that looked like it had been added on to more than once sat farther back. A walkway of flat slabs of stone connected the driveway to a front porch complete with rocking chairs. Talk about country charm.
“This is lovely.” Bree’s mother gawked out the window.
“Yeah.” Bree parked next to the van and peered through the windshield.
This fine home surprised her. Not because of Darren’s parents—the place suited them—but considering the chip on their son’s shoulder, she would have expected Darren to have grown up somewhere much more modest. The other side of the railroad tracks made more sense than this rolling lakeside retreat.
The passenger side door opened, and Darren offered her mother his hand. “My mom has refreshments on the back deck, and then we’ll decide whether to hunt morels or take the tour of the sugar shack first.”
“That’d be good.” Her mother nodded, clearly impressed.
“I’ll get the crutches.” Bree dashed around the car in time to see Helen and Andy Zelinsky coming toward them.
“Glad you could make it.” Helen reached for Bree’s hands. “And I hope you brought your cello.”
Bree felt her cheeks warm at the questioning look her mother gave her. “Yes, I did.”
“The quartet was fabulous, but I want to hear just you play.” Helen looked up. “And ideally that storm will stay away long enough for today’s morel hunt.”
Bree took in the dark clouds gathering in the western sky. The weather forecast had said nothing about rain today. “Helen, this is my mother and the organizer of the class, Joan Anderson.”
“Good to meet you, Joan.” Helen glanced at the soft cast and crutches. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit of a hike to the backyard. Maybe we should relocate to the sugar shack.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. Really. The crutches are better support than my cane. At least for now.” Her mother had been given the green light to use a cane. She could put weight on her foot, but with caution.
Helen, not looking fully convinced, moved on and greeted the others. She gave Stella a big hug.
“Maybe Darren should carry you,” Bree teased.
Her mother glared at her. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
But Darren had overheard and walked toward them. “Need help?”
Bree had to own that she wouldn’t mind being carried by him. “Maybe stand by, in case.”
He nodded.
Bree’s mother proved them both unneeded as she negotiated the walkway around to the back of the house without incident. The backyard proved even nicer, with frontage on a small inland lake and even a small sandy beach. The deck was expansive, too, with part of it covered. Underneath that generous overhang stood a table laden with iced tea, lemonade and a tray of snacks. Their group surrounded said table without hesitation and gobbled up cheese dip and crackers and homemade cookies.
Darren asked Joan, “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Bree will do that. But thank you.”
As Bree waited for an opening around the refreshment table, Stella stood next to her. “Helen’s a great cook. I remember Darren once brought me a tray of her homemade pierogi.”
“They’re nice people.” Bree meant it. Darren’s parents were real, salt-of-the-earth kind of people. Nothing like Philip’s parents, who were stuffy even by her standards.
Philip had been uptight, too, making critical comments about her hair and how she dressed. Even her attempts to help others. She’d given up a midweek gig with a group of struggling young musicians because they’d played in a grungy coffee house in an area Philip hadn’t liked.
Bree had been weak then, letting him interfere with her goals. Seattle promised not only professional dreams but also an escape from the expected routine.
She glanced at Darren. He stood next to his father, and they laughed about something. The affection between the two men was clear. They spoke to each other with mutual respect and acceptance. Darren had found his path. It was no wonder he’d never moved away; he had everything right here.
Bree envied his sense of contentment. She’d feared getting stuck in the same place whereby Darren welcomed it. She wanted change. He didn’t. They were two different people chasing completely different things. Not exactly a good foundation for a lasting relationship. They didn’t stand a chance.
* * *
Thunder rumbled louder. Darren looked up at the sky and frowned. He’d kept his ear tuned into the approaching storm while the group scoured his parents’ woods for morels. Whites were popping, and everyone went crazy finding just one more.
Lightning flashed. He’d waited too long, and that wasn’t smart. Darren blew his whistle. “Let’s go. Now.”
“It’ll blow over.” Ed’s greedy onion bag bulged with morels.
“I’m not taking any chances.” Darren stared the old guy down while the women scurried out of the woods.
He heard Stella shriek when the first gigantic raindrops hit. The window of opportunity to stay dry had definitely closed.
“Fine.” Ed moved forward.
“Let’s head for the sugar shack. That’s closer than the house.” Darren brought up the rear with Bree.
“This is kind of fun.” She gave him a smile that sliced through him.
Getting caught in the rain with her would have been interesting if they’d been alone. Fortunately, for both their sakes, they weren’t. “Yeah, right.”
Bree frowned at his sharp tone.
“Look—” The roar of the rain tore at his attempt to apologize. He watched Bree as she ran ahead of him, the rain soaking through her T-shirt and shorts. Let her think he was a grump. That was safer.
The deluge hit while the group was in the middle of his parents’ mowed lawn. He’d never seen seventy-year-olds move so fast. When they made it into the sugar shack, his mom met them at the door with a stack of towels.
“Nice touch with these.” Darren dried off as he looked around. His mom had brought the party inside the sugar shack. Cozy for sure.
“I heard the thunder, and your father helped me move everything out here. We can hang out comfortably until the weather passes.” His mother handed Bree a towel. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had Andy bring in your cello case. Your car was unlocked.”
“Thank you. Might as well set up now.” Bree wrapped the towel around her neck and shoulders, under the fat braid of her hair. Her wet bangs were plastered against her forehead, making her golden eyes seem huge and incredibly pretty.
“Need help?”
“I got it.” She waved off his offer.
Darren quickly took a head count. Everyone accounted for. No one lost but him. Every time he looked at Bree.
His mom had everything in hand like always. She’d make this his best class yet with such a party atmosphere. Laughter rang through their gathering as his class attendees dried off. The stainless steel evaporator gleamed, reflecting their little group crammed into this small space. Folding chairs had been set up for seating in addition to the benches against the wall.
Funny, but Darren didn’t feel crowded.
Stella and Ed and the rest helped themselves to the snacks his mom had set out on the huge oak desk. He and Matthew had moved that desk out of Annie’s house last year. When he’d been afraid to walk around in his own hometown. That time seemed far away.
He watched Bree push a folding chair into a corner near the light of a window. Carefully she opened her case, pulled out the gleaming wooden cello and settled it against her leg while she grabbed her bow. Even in a damp T-shirt and shorts, Bree looked refined.
“She’s good for you,” his mom whispered as she wrapped her arm around his waist. “She brings you back to life.”
&n
bsp; “She’s leaving for two years.” It came out a low growl.
His mom rubbed his back, slow and comforting like when he was little. “I’m sorry, honey.”
He shrugged off her touch. “It’s no big deal.”
Rain clanged against the tin roof above. Lightning flashed, followed by a clap of thunder so loud that it rattled the windows. A couple of the women squealed, then laughed.
Darren hoped that wasn’t an answer to his fib. Bree was turning into a very big deal. He watched her as those first mellow notes she played seeped into space, quieting the chatter. He didn’t recognize the tune; he wouldn’t. He didn’t listen to this kind of stuff. Maybe he should. The silky sound of whatever it was she played captivated him. Her cello coupled with the rhythmic beats of rain hitting the roof mesmerized all of them into silence.
Bree gave him a soft smile, making her dimples a whisper.
He smiled back. His mom said she was good for him. Maybe that was true. She’d drawn him out of the gloom he’d been under for a long while.
Bree focused on playing.
Darren didn’t look away. He watched her fingers slide up and down the neck of the instrument with confidence. She tilted the bow with such grace, nodding her head in time with the music.
“She’s good,” his mom whispered.
He nodded. “Too good for here.”
* * *
Bree played piece after piece as the storm rumbled away into the distance, leaving behind a soft rain. Occasionally she’d look into Darren’s intense gaze. His bright blue eyes burned through her, shooting sparks to her fingers and toes. She played to him.
It had quieted down enough to hear about the maple operation and had been for a few minutes now. She finished the piece and leaned back, feeling oddly drained.
“Aww.” One of the women said. “Don’t stop.”
“It’s close to end time.” Bree looked at Darren for help, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to leave.
