The Kissing Tree

by Bice, Prudence

  The water was so clear she could see the fish swimming around on the bottom. When a rather large trout got spooked and swam off, something shiny wedged between a couple of rocks caught her eye. She pulled her feet out of the water and crouched on the edge of the stone to get a closer look. The water made the stone rather slippery, so she braced her hands tightly onto an edge that was not wet.

  It almost looked like . . . a chain of some sort. It couldn’t be, could it? she thought incredulously. She had lost it so long ago. Quickly standing up, she looked about her for a stick to help her fish it out. Finding one she thought would do, she crouched down on the stone again. Her foot slipped slightly, but thankfully she caught herself.

  Reaching down with the stick, she carefully poked at the shiny thing until she managed to get the end wrapped around the stick a little. Holding her breath, she slowly began to lift it from the water. Just before it broke the water’s surface, it unfortunately slipped back off the stick and fell to the bottom again.

  “Blast!” The word was out of her mouth before she could think. She didn’t make a habit of swearing, and even though she was alone, she couldn’t help but look around self-consciously to see if she’d been heard.

  Working the stick again, she managed once more to wind the chain around its end. This time, when she lifted it toward the surface, she reached out with her other hand ready to snatch it should it begin to fall.

  “Steady,” she coached herself. “Just a little farther . . . almost.” It was starting to unwind itself. Quickly she tried to bring the stick toward her outstretched hand before it fell. She almost had it when suddenly her foot began to slip. She tried to stand up to right herself, but that only put her further off balance, so she crouched back down, attempting to grab hold of the edge of the stone.

  It all happened so quickly.

  Just as she thought she had secured herself, her foot slipped back once more, propelling her head first into the creek. Her face met the cool water, shocking the breath out of her. Next, her legs and feet flew over and down, resulting in a none too graceful somersault. As her backside hit the creek bottom, her head popped back out of the water, just above the surface.

  Her long hair now hung tangled and wet in front of her face, so she was startled when she heard something come splashing toward her. Next thing she knew, someone had grabbed her by the arms and lifted her up to stand on wobbly legs.

  Still coughing and sputtering, she brushed her hair back from her face and looked up to see Ridge standing before her in the water. He was soaked almost to the waist with a concerned look on his face.

  Immediately upset that once again she had humiliated herself in front of him, she roughly shrugged her arms out of his firm grasp.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked him angrily.

  Quickly his face went from concerned to one she was sure could rival her own.

  “Confound it, girl! What were you thinkin’? You’ve succeeded in scarin’ away any trout I planned on catchin’, that’s for sure!”

  ◁ ◊ ▷

  Ridge looked at Georgiana standing in front of him. She was soaked through from head to toe. A moment ago he had been concerned, but when her temper flared, he had become instantly angry too.

  Would he ever be free from this woman? He had vowed he would steer clear of her until she went back to New York with Dawson, which he was fairly certain would be soon. But even though he managed to avoid being near her most of the time, he couldn’t seem to banish her from his thoughts. She’d plagued his dreams all night. Now here she was again, making him think about her some more. He was tired and in a foul mood.

  When Angus had asked him if he wouldn’t mind seeing if he could catch a few trout for lunch today, he’d jumped at the chance to get away. He planned on staying away until after breakfast. Didn’t figure he’d have much of an appetite anyway, watching her and Dawson make eyes at each other.

  Ridge was taken aback and a little annoyed when he saw her wander over to the creek carrying a bucket of berries. He’d walked by the very bush he was sure she had picked from, before heading up the creek a bit to cross the bridge. He always seemed to have better luck fishing on the far side. He had just relaxed under the shade of his favorite tree with his pole, waiting on his first catch.

  So he’d watched her silently, knowing she couldn’t see him from where she was—until she’d tumbled into the water, that is. He would have laughed out loud if his concern for her hadn’t been greater.

  Knowing there were often sharp rocks embedded in the creek bottom, he’d jumped to his feet and plunged directly into the water, shoes and all, and crossed to the other side to help her.

  Now as he looked at her, all danger gone, dripping water and hair hanging in her reddened face while she glared at him with those gray and violet eyes, he couldn’t help himself. Throwing his head back, he laughed, loud and hard.

  “What are you laughing at?” She narrowed her eyes at him even more.

  “If you could see yourself, you wouldn’t be asking me that,” he countered. Even drenched and angry, she was beautiful.

  Sharply turning from him, she waded over to the creek’s edge, nearly slipping again on the rocks and falling back down. He followed closely behind.

  Grabbing onto the branch of a tree that hung over the water, she began pulling herself out onto the bank. But the bank sat high, and the water was low. When she nearly fell a third time, he reached out to steady her.

  “What are you doing?” she snarled.

  “I’m trying to help ya. Ain’t that obvious?” Ridge snapped back.

  “I most certainly do not need your help, Mr. Carson, so if you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you would go back to wherever it was you came from.”

  “Just doin’ my job, Miss McLaughlin. Your grandfather wouldn’t be too pleased with me if I let ya injure that foot of yours again.”

  She let go of the branch and turned back to look at him, placing her hands firmly on her hips.

  “I am most certainly not part of your job description,

  Mr. Carson, despite what you think my grandfather would want. Now, if you won’t go away, at least turn around. This is difficult enough as it is, let alone trying to preserve my modesty.”

  Ridge turned away from her as she had asked, but he couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped or his retort. “I’m afraid your modesty has already been compromised after that near flip you did into the water.” He didn’t turn to look at her, but he could imagine the expression she wore.

  She didn’t answer back, but he could hear she was still struggling to get out.

  “What are you doin’ out at the crick this early anyway?” he asked curiously.

  “It’s my business where I am and at what time.” He heard her feet splash back down in the water. “But if you must know, my grandfather suggested I come and pick some wild berries before the critters got to them.”

  Ridge shook his head knowingly. He had suspected for a while what old Angus was up to.

  “What are you doing here?” He turned around after she asked because he could tell by the sound, or lack of it, that she had given up.

  “Your grandfather asked me to catch a few trout for lunch,” he answered, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, if he would have told me that, I . . . I wouldn’t have come and dis-disturbed your p-precious fishing spot,” she exclaimed, giving him an annoyed look, despite the fact she was becoming obviously chilled.

  “I think that’s exactly what he had in mind,” Ridge mumbled to himself softly.

  “Ex-excuse m-m-me?” Georgiana asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “I said ya might as well let me give ya a lift from behind before we both catch a chill.” She looked at him doubtfully, but by this point she had begun to shiver quite uncontrollably.

  “I’m . . . I’m afraid I’m going to have to . . . to accept your help,” she began, trying terribly to keep her voice from trembling, “I . . . I fear I have
been living in . . . in the city to-too long. I’m not as nimble as I used to be.” Georgiana narrowed her eyes and looked at him sternly. “But pray, you . . . you watch where you place your hands, Mr. Carson. We . . . we may b-b-be alone out here, but I’m sh-sure if I am part of your job description, my gr-grandfather would want you to preserve what’s left of m-m-my modesty at . . . at all costs. Especially, since y-you have just informed me that it has b-b-been compromised already.”

  Ridge was finding it almost too difficult not to laugh again at the indignant look she wore, especially since she couldn’t keep from stuttering her words. Pushing aside his worry, he playfully took a step forward and bowed graciously before her.

  “Ya have my sincere promise, Miss McLaughlin, that I will truly endeavor to be ever the utmost gentleman as I help rescue you from this crick.” He chuckled softly and stood to meet her eyes. For a moment he thought he caught a brief look of amusement, but she turned from him quickly and once again grabbed hold of the branch.

  Ridge waded over behind her and placed his hands on her waist, hoisting her up until she was able to secure her feet on the creek’s edge. She was then able to pull herself the rest of the way up.

  Ridge was surprised when she turned, leaned toward him, and extended her hand as if to give him aid. Her other arm she wrapped securely around the trunk of a tree. He had no choice but to take her hand if he didn’t want to offend her again. So, grabbing the same tree branch with one hand and her hand with the other, he began pulling himself out of the water.

  When he was almost out, Georgiana’s face abruptly changed from soft and serene to one of mischief, and he knew immediately he was in trouble. Before he could even register his disbelief, she took her uninjured foot and wedged it against his chest. Then letting go of his hand, she shoved him back into the water.

  When he had run across the creek to rescue her, he had only become wet from the waist down. Now as he unexpectedly fell back into the water, his whole body was submerged. Quickly, he sat up and stared at the satisfied, smug look she wore. He glared back.

  “Now, don’t you . . . you look at me like that, Mr. Ridge Carson. You de-deserved that and you . . . you know it.” The corners of her mouth curled up slightly. “You have had your laughs at me more than once today already, and it’s m-m-my turn to laugh.”

  With that, she turned and walked away, stopping only to gather her shoes and her bucket of berries. As she headed up the lane back home, he heard her begin to whistle, interrupted only by a stutter and a giggle now and then.

  As he listened to her a moment, he smiled at the sound of her laughter. The sound brought with it a healthy sampling of memories waiting to be indulged in. Regretfully, he pushed them away. Just then a thought occurred to him. What was she tryin’ to get out of the crick?

  Looking around him, it didn’t take him long to spot the chain in the water. He instantly knew what it was and why she was so earnestly trying to fish it out.

  Standing himself up, he reached down and grasped it. He took a moment to examine it. Its condition showed it had been in the water a long time. Slipping it into his pocket, he waded back to the other side to gather his pole and head back to the house. Angus was sure to be disappointed, but there wouldn’t be any fish caught in the creek this morning, the gal had seen to that. ’Course it served Angus right, meddling like he was.

  Thinking back to the mischievous look that had spread across her face, Ridge couldn’t help but grin. His Georgie still had a little spunk, just like the old days, though soon, he reminded himself, she wouldn’t be “his Georgie” ever again.

  ◁ ◊ ▷

  Georgiana couldn’t keep the smile from drifting back every time she pictured the look on Ridge’s face as she’d pushed him back into the water. She really hadn’t planned on doing it when she’d first extended her hand to help him out. What had possessed her, she didn’t know, but she had to admit it felt good to, for once, have the upper hand.

  Ever since she’d returned to Crystal Creek, she had been subjected to one humiliating situation after another. Her pride was suffering greatly. Now, thinking of her appearance as she approached the house, she girded herself up for another knock to her ego.

  Grandfather and Roddy were out on the side of the house inspecting the fire pit. Jonas and Jeremiah weren’t far away, cleaning up by the water barrel. Tiny and Dawson sat on the porch stairs intently discussing something. Dawson had a stick and was working the dirt and mud from off his new boots. Jimmy had finally returned from helping his brother, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d ridden into town.

  The men were probably hungry by now, but she suppressed the feelings of guilt. She hadn’t meant to be so long, and she certainly hadn’t planned on falling into the creek.

  Grandfather noticed her first and walked forward. She knew she looked a fright, barefoot, soaked, and still dripping water. She must have unconsciously given him a “Don’t say a word” look because he cringed noticeably. His interference had backfired, and he knew it.

  Next, Jonas and Jeremiah turned toward the house, then stopped and stared.

  “Good mornin’,” Jonas suddenly piped out.

  “Miss Georgiana,” Jeremiah added quickly.

  She nodded her head as she passed by. “Jonas . . . Jeremiah . . . I trust you’re both having a good morning?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they both said in unison.

  As she walked to the bottom of the porch stairs, Tiny stood up and removed his hat.

  “Mornin’, Miss McLaughlin,” he said, stepping aside to allow her access to the stairs.

  “Good morning, Tiny.”

  Dawson jumped up too but didn’t say anything, only stared with his mouth gaping open, forgetting to brush himself off as he stood.

  “Good morning, Dawson.” She smiled at him, climbed the stairs, and went in the house door, straight to her room.

  They were still gaping after Georgiana when Ridge came walking up the road. Jonas saw him first.

  “Ridge, what have you done to Miss McLaughlin this time? If I miss breakfast because of you, I’ll—”

  Ridge headed straight for Angus.

  “You’re placin’ blame with the wrong man this time, Jonas.”

  He stopped in front of Angus and handed him the fishing bucket. Angus took the bucket excitedly and looked sorrowfully down at the empty bottom.

  “Fish weren’t bitin’ today, lad?” he asked innocently.

  “Yep, they weren’t bitin’.” Ridge fairly glared at him. “I figure ya just must’ve sent me the wrong kind of bait.”

  The man immediately wore a look of chagrin, and Ridge knew Angus realized he’d been found out.

  “Now, Angus . . .” Ridge took a deep breath in an effort to hold back his anger for he respected this man immensely. “I know she’s your granddaughter and all, but that doesn’t give you the right to—”

  Before he could finish, Angus glanced over at Dawson. Ridge followed his gaze. Dawson was watching them, listening intently. Ridge felt sorry for the man. It wasn’t his fault Angus had gotten the fool’s notion that he and Georgie were meant to be together. The man was in love with her, probably near as much as he was. Why else would he have come so far to bring her back?

  Ridge sighed, and Angus suddenly looked encouraged that he had escaped a severe tongue-lashing. Though Ridge would never have disrespected him in front of the others, he wasn’t letting him off the hook that easy. Georgiana had a right to make her own choices, and he certainly didn’t want to win her by default.

  “You and I will talk later,” he said to Angus, giving him a look that said he meant it. “For now, I’m needin’ to get out of these here wet clothes.” As he walked to the bunkhouse, he felt at least one set of eyes boring into his back.

  17. Secrets to Ponder

  Samantha came running out to the wagon even before Georgiana had time to set the brake and climb down. She was tired of having to rely on the men to drive her around, so after breakfast she insis
ted Dawson show her how to drive the team herself. It had been rough at first when she’d started out on her own, but her determination had overridden her feelings of nervousness, and soon she was able to get the team under control.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Samantha said, out of breath from her mad dash. “We still have so much to do. I just know we’ll run out of time. Oh, why did I have to go and volunteer to head up this year’s committee?”

  Georgiana leaned over and gave her friend a reassuring hug.

  “You’re doing a fine job, Sammy, and I’m sure this year’s fall social will be the best one ever, all because of you.”

  Samantha finally cracked a smile.

  “Oh, I hope you’re right, Georgie.” Her face lit up, and Samantha took Georgiana’s hand, dragging her toward town. “You’ve got to come and see the decorations so far. They are absolutely wonderful, and I know you’ll love them. Ridge and Tiny volunteered to help and spent all morning, since after breakfast, hanging streamers and . . .” Georgiana stopped and pulled her hand from Samantha’s grasp when she’d heard Ridge’s name mentioned. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. She’d done a lot of thinking on the wagon ride over and had decided that after this morning’s incident, she was foolish to think things would ever work out between her and Ridge. Every time they were together, she found herself getting so frustrated and angry about the simplest things. Maybe if she finally let go of Ridge, her feelings would change toward Dawson.

  Samantha had grabbed her hand again and was once more coaxing her toward the town social hall, which was really an old abandoned warehouse.

  “Wait, Samantha, I don’t want to . . .”

  “Georgie, please . . . don’t be such a stick in the mud. It’s not like Ridge is going to bite you or anything. Besides, he’s not even there right now.”

  Georgiana relaxed and allowed her friend to continue dragging her along. While she did, her thoughts turned to Dawson once again.