Lean on Me

by HelenKay Dimon

  Mitch hated remembering those days when Carrie and Austin broke up. Mitch’s loyalty had bounced between his best friend and his sister, and at times he wanted to strangle both of them for being so stubborn. But thanks to the wedding, those tense days were gone. Dealing with Carrie was Austin’s problem now.

  “She’d kill you if she knew you were dragging her name into these stories,” Travis said.

  Mitch laughed. “She’s used to it.”

  “I’m surprised Austin tolerated being engaged for nine months.”

  “Are you kidding? He would have waited forever. Told me that, too. Poor sucker.” Mitch tucked everything back in the bag and covered the goods with the tarp. “And, for the record, that shed behind Cowles Pond was prime drinking territory back then.”

  The men circled back to the tractor, both lifting their collars against the swish of wind. Travis broke the silence. “Think the high-end gear is related to the issues in the nursery.”

  Mitch tried to figure out how he kept missing simple information when he worked all the damn time and had been known to sleep in his office on bad weather days rather than risk the ride home. “Care to fill me in?”

  “You said you thought you heard someone last night.”

  The tension cramping into a ball at the base of his neck loosened. “Oh, that. I checked it out and didn’t see anything.”

  “Then there’s the flower arrangement.”

  That quick, Mitch was lost again. “Excuse me?”

  “Someone unloaded the flowers and filled in the pumpkin display.”

  “I’m sure that was an employee.” His mind flashed to the setup. He’d walked past it this morning thinking the addition of the cornstalks and choice of colors worked. He didn’t have much of an eye for that sort of thing, didn’t care much except for what it meant in terms of sales, but some of the folks on staff did, which allowed him to focus on things he cared about like accounting and contracts for new work.

  Travis shook his head. “It went up after hours. I checked and no one took credit.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” Mitch stopped in the middle of getting into the seat and jumped back down. His feet hit the ground as he turned to his foreman. “We have a vagrant who cleans up the campsite, doesn’t destroy or steal anything and actually puts in a few hours of uncompensated work while on the property.”

  “Maybe we should hire her.”

  “Or have her locked up and medicated.”

  “I didn’t say any of this made sense. Been working on farms and the like since I was fifteen and never had anyone sneak around fixing things and pretending they weren’t. Seems to me people usually rush to take credit.”

  From anyone else, Mitch would have discounted the sentiment. Travis was only in his early twenties now but he’d been on his own for a long time and worked harder than anyone at the nursery. Than anyone Mitch had ever met. They’d all decided to pay him anything to keep him happy. Letting him move into the old caretaker’s cabin on the back end of the property and stay for free had been one of the nursery’s best business decisions.

  “The whole friendly trespasser thing is insane.” Mitch weighed the options and came up with another scenario. “Or it’s guilt.”

  “Come again?”

  “Looks like this lady is setting to use the nursery as a temporary house.”

  “Right. I got that part.”

  “Maybe she cleaned up because she felt bad about sneaking on the property last night. In her head it could be okay because she basically worked off the night’s rent.” Not the action of the person the town thought The Chosen One was but the kind of person he caught a glimpse of at her mother’s grave.

  “Who would do that?”

  Mitch didn’t have to guess. He knew. Somehow he just knew. Looked like The Fall was about more than just losing her career. Cassidy may have lost her wallet and he was determined to find out the truth.

  Chapter Five

  Walking from the door to the counter at Schmidt’s took every last bit of nerve Cassidy had left. She’d debated coming at all but once she decided to see if Mitch’s charm extended to food, she knew she had to come early. Relax and get accustomed to the stares if she hoped to be able to choke down a hamburger. And, man, did she want to eat a hamburger. Her stomach rumbled just from the memory of the smell.

  Step after crashing step, she knew it was her imagination but she swore her boots clomped against the tile floor. She almost ran the last few feet to stop the echo in her ears. Fighting back the urge to jump on the stool, and fearing she would somehow spin off and fall on her butt, she slowed down and slid on.

  She stared straight ahead as silence fell around her. People weren’t even whispering. The back of her head was on fire from all the glaring.

  People in town called her long-ago interview The Snub. She wondered what cool nickname they’d come up with for how they were treating her now.

  A woman slipped out of the swinging kitchen door and came to a stop. She scanned the diner until her gaze settled on Cassidy. Since hiding under the counter was out of the question, Cassidy stared back.

  The yellow waitress uniform hadn’t changed in years but the woman wearing it was much younger. With her blond hair pulled back and the huge smile on her face, she looked a few years older than Cassidy but she couldn’t call up a name. Wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

  “Why, if it isn’t Cassidy Clarke.” The woman stood right in front of Cassidy on the other side of the counter. “I heard you were back in town.”

  Cassidy waited for a sneer or an order to leave, but nothing like that came. The woman genuinely looked happy to see her. Must mean she was new to town.

  “I’m surprised it’s not on the front page of the newspaper,” Cassidy said.

  The woman waved a small towel around as if she were physically dismissing the comment. “Not like we actually have a paper around here, unless you count that thing with all the coupons.”

  The banter was friendly but the anxiety crashing through Cassidy from head to foot wouldn’t stop. “Uh-huh.”

  “Besides, when The Chosen One walks into the nursery and catches the eye of one of Holloway’s most eligible and flirty bachelors, the news gets around. I’m surprised some of the disgruntled old farts around here didn’t ride down the street with a bullhorn, insisting you be run out of Holloway.”

  “That’s probably being planned for tomorrow.”

  “Nah, the folks around here like to gossip about The Chosen One and pretend they know more than they do, but it’s all talk. That’s what happens when you live in a place where the movie theater plays movies that are six months old and the addition of the third stoplight raised concerns of the town being overtaken by city folk.”

  The only thing that kept Cassidy from wincing at the repeated nickname she hated was the other woman’s delivery—frank and funny. Then there was the part where she mentioned Mitch. Well, sort of. Interesting how that topic made Cassidy forgive almost anything.

  “Any chance you could call me Cassidy instead of—”

  “Not a fan of The Chosen One thing?” The woman grabbed a mug off the rack behind her and the coffee pot. Without asking, she started pouring and slid the cup in front of Cassidy. “If it’s any consolation, when you were first crowned that nickname it was a positive thing. You were the town’s favorite daughter.”

  She wrapped both hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep through to her skin. “Not anymore.”

  “True.” The woman leaned down, balancing her upper body on her elbows on the counter. “You probably don’t remember me since I was a few years ahead of you, more than I want to admit, actually. I’m Darla Kingston.”

  Cassidy searched for a memory but nothing came. She wasn’t exactly a wild girl in high school. She’d had few friends and kept her life focused on climbing and the goal of one day being the first American woman to climb all fourteen of the highest mountains in the world, otherwise known as the eight-thousanders. Th
at required dedication, years of training, even more time paying her dues and endless rounds of begging for sponsorships to cover the costs. She’d only reached the summit on three of the mountains on her list before the accident on the fourth one, but Mt. Everest alone had cost sixty-five thousand dollars.

  None of that left much time for deep friendships. Not that many women shared her interests anyway.

  Darla’s eyebrow lifted. “You okay?”

  Not even a little. “Of course.”

  “You tug on that any harder and you just might strangle yourself.” Darla’s gaze shot to Cassidy’s a stomach. “Little nervous?”

  She glanced down and saw her white-knuckle grip on her jacket zipper. Her brain sent a message to unclench her fingers. Opening her hand took a little longer but at least the strange buzzing sound stopped. She’d thought it was sort of warning signal from her brain but apparently not.

  “Sorry. Guess I keep waiting for people with pitchforks to show up.”

  Darla snorted. “Oh, so what. You said something stupid when you were a kid.”

  “Kid? You might be using some creative math there.”

  “Point is it’s not a big deal.”

  “Of course it is.” An older woman slid onto the stool next to Cassidy, bringing her lipstick-stained coffee cup with her. “You called us names. We’re your people. That sort of thing isn’t done. Your mother raised you better than that.”

  “Now, Cleo. There’s no reason for that sort of thing,” Darla said.

  Cassidy recognized the older lady. She’d been a school bus driver and constant presence all around town. She seemed old twenty years ago to a preteen Cassidy. Today she’d peg the older woman’s age in her late sixties, though it was tough to tell with all that anger sparking off her.

  Despite the years, Cleo looked about the same. The seamed-front pants tucked into fleece-lined boots had a familiar feel. With white hair pulled tight in a bun, she wore a thick layer of bright pink lipstick and matching blush.

  Her brown eyes narrowed until wrinkles crinkled her brow and the area around her mouth. “Well, aren’t you going to defend yourself?”

  “I didn’t mean to say what I said back then.”

  “Bah.” Cleo’s cup rattled against the counter as she slammed it down.

  That didn’t work. Cassidy tried again, this time with as much deference as she could muster. “I was stupid. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll say, girlie.”

  Darla took Cleo’s cup and cleaned up the spill around it. “Cleo, she’s still one of us.”

  “Is she?”

  “I think so.” Mitch’s deep voice broke into the conversation as his hands settled on Cassidy’s shoulders.

  A smile broke across Cleo’s face, making her look a good ten years younger. “Why Mitch Anders, you handsome devil. How’s your daddy?”

  “Just fine, Cleo. On a fishing trip with the guys, leaving Mom to handle the homestead.”

  “They’re good people.” Cleo eyed Cassidy. “Solid.”

  Cassidy got the unspoken message—unlike her.

  “What are you doing with The Chosen One?” Cleo hitched her chin in Cassidy’s general direction.

  Much more of this back-teeth-grinding-to-keep-from-screaming thing and she’d need to go to a dentist. Something else she couldn’t afford, along with shelter, food and some dignity. “I really don’t like—”

  “Her name is Cassidy and the two of us are having dinner. So, if you’ll excuse us.” He squeezed her shoulder before pulling the stool back and guiding her to her feet.

  “Of course.” Cleo mumbled until Mitch gave her a kiss on her bright pink cheek. Then she smiled like a silly schoolgirl.

  “Darla, we’ll take that table by the window.” He pointed as they walked.

  Darla and Mitch exchanged smiles. They didn’t say anything and didn’t seem to need to. Cassidy was in such a daze of frustration over her life and admiration for Mitch that she didn’t even notice he had her across the room until she plopped down hard in the red fake leather booth. He put a menu in front of her and Darla dropped two glasses of water off before spinning away again.

  Finding her voice took Cassidy a few more minutes. When she did, she said the one coherent thought bouncing around her heard. “You staked a claim.”

  He didn’t look up from the menu. “Yep.”

  She glanced around the room. Most diners had gone back to their meals except for a few strays who continued their whisper campaign. “Everyone will be talking about us tomorrow.”

  He flipped a page. “They already are.”

  “I mean together. As a couple and not just about me being an evil wench who must be destroyed.”

  He shot her a quick look, the smile evident on his mouth. “Nice image and probably.”

  She knocked her hand against his menu, sending it smacking into his face. “Listen to me.”

  He frowned and managed to look adorable doing it. “Keep acting like that and someone might make a citizen’s arrest. People like me.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “This is serious.”

  “No, it isn’t. It’s ridiculous small-town stuff. Harmless but not still annoying. All you can do is ignore it and ride it out.”

  The full force of his actions hit her. She grabbed the edge of the table to keep upright. “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to polish my bad reputation with your good one.”

  He glanced at her fingers where they wrapped around the Formica then back to her face. “I’m not a hundred percent sure I know what you just said, but it sounds about right. So, yes.”

  She fell back against the booth with a hmpf. “You really don’t care if people think you’re dating the town enemy?”

  He held up one finger. “First, we are dating so that part is true.”

  “Wait a second.”

  “Second.” Another finger joined the first. “Don’t flatter yourself. We had a drunk hit a kid last year. He’s probably enemy number one.”

  She blocked out the rest of the room. Looked like keeping up with him was going to require all of her attention. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”

  He folded his menu on the table and leaned on it. The move rested his fingertips against hers. “What is it you want me to say here?”

  Her mouth opened once, twice. No words came out either time. Success finally came on the third try. “I don’t know.”

  “Honesty. I like it.” He shot her another one of those drop-your-panties smiles that made her stupid and had her grabbing for the menu again. Much more of that and she’d return to babbling. “Are you not used to it from women?”

  He eyed her over the top of the specials list. “Are you ready to trade questions about our respective pasts?”

  This guy had a comeback for everything.

  “No.”

  “Well, Cassidy. I’m a fair man.”

  She braced for a verbal body blow. “No good conversation ever starts like that.”

  “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

  The man in the booth behind Mitch turned around. He wore the same wide-eyed, stunned expression she guessed she had at that moment. Mitch’s comment sounded…it was so…well, it could be innocent but her mind went right to naughty. The self-satisfied smile he wore didn’t really do much to have her thinking G-rated.

  Cassidy dropped her voice to a whisper. “What are you saying?”

  “Want me to shout it out?”

  She fumbled with her menu, unable to pick it up off the table, and finally snatched the one out of his hands and held it in front of her face to block the heat pulsing off her. No need for the entire restaurant to see the wild blush. No matter what, she preferred The Chosen to The Slut as a stupid nickname. “We should order.”

  They ordered and ate the meal with ease. Despite her dizzying hunger, she even managed to keep from chewing so fast that she choked. The conversation flowed, sticking to safe topics like the Thomas brothers and the nursery. She did everything
she could to keep the focus off her while she inhaled her hamburger. Eating without conserving the food for later meals wasn’t her new reality. Neither was letting someone else pick up her check, but Mitch didn’t give her a choice. He dropped a twenty on the table and had her out the door before the fact this truly was a date settled in her mind.

  Once they were in the parking lot, a new concern smacked her in the face along with the cool night air. If he wanted to take her home, she couldn’t exactly give him directions to his own office. Walking the three miles to her tent didn’t appeal to her either.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked the question as his strong hand flattened against the small of her back.

  She’d missed the touch of male hands. The scent and the hard planes of their bodies. Her dating life had centered on a few like-minded climbers. They’d meet up for the season then go their separate ways at the end of a three-month expedition. Not that there had been that many. A few only. Still, a woman liked to feel beautiful now and then and the right brush of a man’s fingers could transform pretty into perfect, if only for a short time.

  They reached his truck. She spun around, balancing her back against the passenger-side door. She meant to thank him for the nice evening because she’d had so few of those lately. But he was right there, with a hand pressed against the truck and his body leaning over her.

  “Where now?” His mouth dipped even closer to hers.

  She put her hand on his chest. Even through the layers of T-shirt, flannel shirt and jacket, she felt his breathing. “You have to work tomorrow.”

  “What does that mean?” His fingers went to her chin, his thumb tracing the outline of her jaw.

  Her body shook inside and out. “We should both go home.”

  “The same home?”

  He had no idea how accurate that was. “No.”