It was good advice in general, but lousy timing. Besides, he didn’t actually know Mandy wouldn’t be careful, and she plainly hadn’t appreciated his comments, however well-intentioned. She had put up her chin in a manner that reminded him of a boxer preparing for a punch.
Why she was so defensive?
He did a series of stretching exercises before setting off on the trail, zoning out on everything except the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the earth. In a much better frame of mind after an hour, he slowed and walked the last quarter mile to cool off.
Mandy was standing by a cluster of bushes beside the trail, picking something from the branches. Before then, he’d seen her only at a distance.
She glanced up as he neared. “Hi.”
“Hello. What are you doing?” he asked.
“Picking huckleberries. I planned to get blackberries, but since I didn’t suit up for war, decided to go for the less bountiful and less dangerous fruit.”
“War?”
“Have you ever seen blackberry bushes? They’re covered with thorns—even their leaves have these little hooks on the back. My work clothes are pretty casual, but I’ve got some old stuff I’d rather sacrifice to the cause. I take it you’ve never gone berry picking?”
“’Fraid not. I grew up in the city.”
“My folks didn’t introduce me to it, either. Some friends did a few years ago, when I spent a summer working at a county park. I was that person you see in the little booth, the one who takes money and gives out the map and directions.”
“You must not have liked the job,” he said politely.
“What gives you that idea?”
“You aren’t still working there.”
She blinked. The early evening sunlight emphasized the amazing green color of her eyes.
“I told you, I like wandering. The job was all right, but that particular park has someone at the gate only during the summer. I wouldn’t have gotten the position at all if their regular person hadn’t needed emergency surgery. At the time, I was a short-order cook at a café popular with county employees. Frank was the head ranger and he offered it to me.”
“So you went to work for the park because you were bored with the café job?” he hazarded a guess.
“More or less. The people were nice, but I’d been there awhile and was tired of it—you know, the same thing over and over. Frank and I hung out together some of the time and he knew I was ready for a change. I like learning new skills.”
“From what I’ve heard, all those skills are helpful in your current position.”
She cocked her head. “Who said that?”
“I’ve been going over employment records and talking to city employees. They have a good opinion of you.”
“You talked to them about me? Why?” she demanded, and Daniel wondered if the fuse on Mandy’s temper was short over specific issues, or just short in general.
“No,” he said patiently. “It simply came up in connection to the work at City Hall.”
“Oh. Why are you looking at employment records?”
“Not yours,” he clarified hastily. “They aren’t in the City Hall files.”
“Okay, but why go over the files in the first place?”
“I’m trying to determine who is responsible for what, and what the line of authority is for each position.”
“If the job gets done, what difference does it make?”
“It makes a great deal of difference, and without understanding who is responsible for different tasks, there can be gaps in what gets accomplished.”
“You do realize that sounds a tad pompous, don’t you?”
* * *
MANDY STUDIED THE way Daniel set his jaw. Granted, she’d provoked him. She shouldn’t have, but he’d reminded her of her twin brothers. Jess and Parker often acted like younger versions of their father, and she hoped that someday they’d bolt for greener pastures. Heck, they were only three years older than her and acted ninety. Last time she’d been home, she had done her best to rattle their cages.
But the guy in front of her wasn’t one of her brothers. If he was, her breathing wouldn’t quicken at the sight of him in running shorts. It was even tempting to reach up and wipe away the trickle of perspiration along Daniel’s neck...possibly because it could lead to other contact. She pushed her mind away from the image.
“Sorry, that wasn’t a nice thing to say,” she said promptly. “Though maybe you would consider it a compliment.”
“Why would I think being called pompous is flattering?”
“Well, when I tell Mr. Spock he’s a wretched, arrogant, disgusting creature, he preens himself. Do you believe cats understand what we say?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Daniel answered noncommittally.
“I imagine you’re a dog person.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I think you like rules and clearly defined lines of authority. Dogs are okay with that, but cats won’t even pretend to do what you want, although you probably don’t know that since Mr. Spock is the only cat you’ve ever held.” She cocked her head. “But now that I think about it, you’re not an animal person at all, are you?”
“I sometimes took care of a neighbor’s dog while I was growing up. And there’s nothing wrong with rules. They’re part of what make us civilized.”
“Yeah, but—” She cut her words off and smiled broadly in a direction just beyond his left shoulder.
“Hi, Margaret. Good to see you, Ted,” Mandy said cheerfully. “I should have guessed you’d be here.”
“It’s that program you sponsored on senior vitality,” the woman said. “It convinced us to make some changes.”
“Glad to hear it was helpful.”
Margaret bobbed her head at Daniel. “Good evening. We’ve seen you out here before, though it’s always been at a distance.”
“Yes, I take a run most evenings, or sometimes in the morning.”
“I’m sure it’s a good habit. My husband and I can’t manage that sort of pace, but walking works well at our age.”
He nodded and Mandy wondered if Margaret had wanted him to ask how old she was, or if she would have been offended by an inquiry. Some of the seniors boasted about their ages. Mandy figured that was a good attitude—after all, they’d earned their wrinkles.
For the moment, however, Margaret had lost interest in the new city manager and was examining the berries in the small bucket hanging from Mandy’s arm.
Ted Hanson peered at Daniel. “How do you like our fair city so far?”
“I’m still getting acquainted with the town, but Willow’s Eve seems a very nice place,” Daniel said. He obviously knew that no one got far by spitting on someone’s home.
“There isn’t much to get acquainted with,” Ted admitted candidly. “It took me a while to adjust to living here again after being in Seattle for so many years.”
“You aren’t longtime residents?”
“Margaret is. I was born in Willow’s Eve, but I enlisted in the navy after high school, and settled in Seattle when I got out of the service. Then years later, I came back for a high school reunion. Margaret’s husband was gone, and I’d lost my wife a couple of years earlier. Margaret and I hit it off, only she wouldn’t move to Seattle, so I ended up where I started. Next month we’re celebrating our fifth anniversary.”
“We’d best get on with our walk,” Margaret interjected. Ted waved pleasantly and they started away at a brisk pace.
Mandy relaxed as the couple moved away. Ted was fine, but Margaret was often a challenge to be around.
“They seem nice,” Daniel commented.
“Margaret can be a pain,” Mandy returned. “But if you want something done and she’s in favor of it, then watch out. She’s a force t
o be reckoned with.”
“She seems forthright.”
“Only if you can apply that description to a steamroller.”
“Steamrollers are helpful in certain situations.”
Was he considering ways to get Margaret’s support for the new water project? Well, maybe it was too early for that. From what Susan had said, nothing had been decided; the city council was just exploring their options. Mandy would have asked, but didn’t know how Daniel felt about discussing work away from the office, and she was still rather miffed about his “advice” not to discuss the subject with people in town.
Daniel slapped a mosquito on his arm, and she scrunched her nose at the smear of blood on his skin.
“It must have been drinking at your well for a while,” she murmured.
“Or someone else’s. Does the sight of blood make you squeamish?”
“A little,” she confessed, digging a clean tissue out of her pocket. “Here.”
Obligingly, he wiped his arm. “I’ll stick this in the trash on my way home. See you on Monday. Have a nice weekend.”
“You, too. Mine is going to be all about berries and making jam. I’ll be a regular pioneer woman, which fits this area, don’t you think?”
* * *
DANIEL NODDED AND walked on, oddly sorry the encounter with Mandy was over. There always seemed to be abundant energy around her.
A sudden, surprising impulse hit to ask if she’d like to have dinner, but he firmly put the idea aside. He was just at loose ends with Samantha and Joyce still in Southern California. The local cable company was coming to install the lines and equipment for a phone, internet and cable connection, and until then, he couldn’t even go online and use Skype to talk with his daughter.
As for an adult social life...?
When he began dating again, he’d need to make it clear it was unlikely he was looking for something permanent. He’d never had much faith in marriage, and after his experience with Celia, he was more skeptical than ever about the institution. From what he’d seen, the odds of divorce were greater than the chance of succeeding, and even “successful” marriages often hid a fair amount of misery.
Right now, the best antidote to his current loneliness was calling Samantha and getting a full report on her day.
Walking more swiftly, Daniel pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number at the top of his list.
* * *
MANDY SAW DANIEL grope in the pocket of his athletic shorts. His bare legs were lean and powerful—he obviously wasn’t exaggerating about running regularly.
After another hour, Mandy reluctantly started back to her car. Her stomach was growling and there were fewer people in the park. Good sense said she should leave.
At the little house where she lived, she carefully sorted the berries before washing and putting them into a plastic freezer bag. At this rate, it would take a week to get enough for jam. No wonder huckleberry preserves were so expensive in the gift stores.
It was still light, so she walked out to the patio, Mr. Spock yowling plaintively from behind the closed door. He gave up after a few minutes and she relaxed, listening to the music the crickets made and the sound of the wind. A lawn mower started in the Bertram House yard, but she didn’t mind; it fit the evening and accompanied the other mowers in the distance.
Daniel approached a few minutes later, pushing the lawn mower. The bushes between their yards were short and sparse, and their gazes met. She raised a hand to be sociable, even lifted her iced tea and pointed at it so he’d know she was offering a glass if he wanted it.
After twenty minutes, the mower stopped and Daniel came back to catch her attention.
“Hope I didn’t disturb your evening too much. I’m not much of a gardener, but the grass was getting too long.”
“It’s just part of the late-summer music,” she said. “Want some tea?”
He hesitated, looked about ready to say yes, then shook his head. “I’ve got some things to do in the house, but thanks for the offer. Your iced tea is better than what I make. What blend do you use?”
There was a dogged casualness in his question, as if he was determined to be pleasant and nothing more. She ought to be grateful, instead of annoyed.
“English breakfast with a small dash of jasmine,” she said, trying to copy his tone of this-conversation-doesn’t-matter-much. And it didn’t. There were underlying tensions between them because they had such different opinions, but this wasn’t work and she didn’t enjoy being on poor terms with anyone.
“I’ll have to try it.”
Mandy stayed on the patio a while longer, in case Daniel realized she’d gone in and thought it was because of him. But the light was getting low and the banana she’d eaten while driving to Pioneer Memorial Park was wearing thin.
In the kitchen she fixed a large salad, adding grilled chicken and cheese, then sat in the big easy chair to eat and watch baseball. The local cable mostly played the Giants’ and Athletics’ games, and tonight the San Francisco Giants were in Saint Louis playing the Cardinals. Having lived in so many different regions, it seemed only fair to cheer for the local team. So Mandy watched, hoping the Giants would do well—unfortunately they were in a slump and the Cardinals made sure it continued.
Later, when she snuggled into bed, she thought she’d see huckleberries when she closed her eyes, but they vied for attention with Daniel...and his irritating attempt to tell her what she shouldn’t talk about with Susan. That was something she needed to remember whenever she noticed his sex appeal. She’d already committed disaster with one uptight rulebook and didn’t intend to get involved with another guy who showed signs of having the same annoying trait.
Of course, there was no harm in finding Daniel Whittier physically attractive, even if she wasn’t sold on his personality. After all, there were actors on TV and in the movies who’d caught her attention. And while it was disappointing to learn some of them were jerks in real life, it wasn’t as if she had believed they were truly like a fictional character she’d enjoyed.
And most important of all, she didn’t want to get involved with anyone that way. Willow’s Eve might be that special place where everything fit together, but she didn’t want any ties to keep her from moving on if necessary. Besides, the thought of Bill’s disappointment back in Phoenix wasn’t something she’d soon forget.
She scrunched her pillow and sighed. Daniel hadn’t shown any particular interest in her in the first place, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep his faults in mind.
* * *
SATURDAY MORNING, SUSAN stretched and rolled over in bed. The previous evening she had managed to keep Chris completely away from the subject of water. After he’d seen her in the new dress, they almost hadn’t gone out for their Friday night date. In fact, they had been quite tardy for their dinner reservation—then they’d had more fun after getting home. It reminded her of the first months after they were married.
She yawned.
Where was Chris?
Oh, that was right. He’d kissed her as the clock chimed eight and slid out of bed, so he could run into town to get their mail at the post office and pick up half-and-half for their morning coffee. She smiled sleepily, knowing he’d return home with doughnuts. That was the real reason he’d gone. Saturday’s mail wouldn’t actually be in the box until after ten.
Doughnuts were one of Chris’s weaknesses, though he tried to restrict his indulgence to once a week. But he had to go early because the Vicksville bakery delivered doughnuts to the Handy Spandy at eight, and if you didn’t get there promptly, the pastries were sold out by midmorning. Folks from Willow’s Eve were so used to it, they didn’t question the arrangement. But Mandy Colson had asked a perfectly logical question when she learned about the pattern—why didn’t the market order a larger number of doughnuts, since it could obviousl
y sell them? Mandy soon learned that Old Man Canfield had been running his store a certain way forever and had no intention of changing.
Susan debated whether she should stay in bed, but decided to get up and fix eggs to balance out the pastry. She’d do it up special, with mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach and plenty of their favorite Muenster cheese. Given the time Chris had left, he should be home just as the eggs were ready.
Sure enough, he came through the door as she pulled the frying pan off the heat.
“That looks wonderful,” he said, though his voice was tight.
“Is something wrong?”
“I got another earful on that damned water project your father is promoting.”
Susan counted to ten. “Do you really want to discuss that when we could eat breakfast and then go back to bed? After all, we didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She could see the internal struggle in his eyes. Chris was fierce on the environment, but debating the subject would put an end to more pleasant activities. That was one thing Susan had remained firm about over the years—she wouldn’t have sex with an angry husband.
Deliberately she stretched so her silk robe slid across her breasts.
His face smoothed out and he smiled. “You know, I am kind of tired, and going back to bed for some extra...rest sounds like a brilliant idea.”
CHAPTER SIX
BY THE END of the weekend, Mandy had picked several gallons of blackberries and made twenty-five jars of jam. Most of them she brought to City Hall for the upcoming bazaar, keeping only four for herself. The remaining berries went into the freezer.
Lou Ella Parsons slid into her office a few minutes after nine on Monday morning, a worried expression on her face.
“Hey, Lou. Did you have a good weekend?” Mandy asked.
“Yes, I mean, no. Oh dear, I’m not sure.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s this water issue, luv. I’m hearing they’ll assess each resident to pay for it, and it could be thousands upon thousands of dollars. Do you know anything?”
Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the CoveNavy ChristmasUntil She Met Daniel Page 63
