by Anna Argent
“Signs? Like what?” Daisy asked.
“He’ll make plans for the future. He’ll have some kind of cause or project or dream. He’ll treat himself fairly, rather than being self-destructive.”
Daisy thought about the way he’d been living, without even basic comforts, like furniture and hot water. The past few days had been better, but he still didn’t seem to have any kind of plan for his future.
If Mom knew all that, she’d freak, so Daisy kept it to herself. “He’s strong, Mom. I’m sure he just needs a little more time to heal.”
“You deserve a king, sweetheart—a man who is strong, capable, loving, honest and whole. A man who can treat you like the queen you are and give you everything your heart desires. Please don’t throw that beautiful future away on a man who can’t give it to you.”
“I’ve loved him since I was a kid.”
“But you’re a woman now, and you need to look at love with a woman’s perspective. Do you really want a broken man raising your children?”
Daisy’s heart whispered to her that there was still hope. “I’m not going to give up on him. Even if he isn’t meant to be mine, he’s still a good man in need of our help. You and Dad always taught us to help those in need.”
“Then help him. But, Daisy, guard your heart. Don’t hand such a rare treasure over to a man who isn’t deserving, or one who doesn’t want it. If you do, you’ll regret it every day for the rest of your life.”
Daisy felt tears sting her eyes. Mom was rarely wrong, and knowing that made everything so much bleaker. “I’ll be careful. I promise. He’ll never know how I feel about him. As far as he’s concerned, we’re just friends.”
“Good plan. When will you be coming home?”
“I’ve still got another week of vacation. It’s going to take at least that long to get his house livable.”
“That’s a long time to be alone with a man you have feelings for.”
“It’s a one-way street, Mom. Relax. My virtue is intact.” At least as intact as it had been when she’d arrived.
“Maybe so, but the whole town is still buzzing about what you’re doing.”
“Let them buzz. I don’t care what the quilting circle or the coffee council or the tattletale telegraph thinks about me. I’m doing the right thing.”
“That was never in question, but you do have to live here. I thought you should know what you’ll be coming home to.”
Daisy cringed. The little town of Whisper Lake was nothing if not nosy. With less than four thousand people calling it home, there was time for the gossips to really delve into the lives of each resident. Hers was no exception.
“I’ll manage,” Daisy said.
“I’m doing what I can to alleviate the wilder rumors, but there’s only so much I can do.”
“It’s fine, Mom. Really. Everyone has to take a turn in the Whisper Lake spotlight. If that’s the price I have to pay for getting Mark’s living conditions up to human standards, then so be it.”
“You’re a good girl. He’s a fool for not seeing that.”
Daisy wanted to hug Mom for her loyalty, but all she had were words. “I love you, too. See you soon.”
They hung up, leaving Daisy alone with her fears. While she put on a good show for Mom, she really wasn’t sure how long she could keep pretending that all she wanted with Mark was friendship.
If she stuck around too long he’d see through her ruse, and when he did, the humiliation she’d felt from the incident with the snake was going to seem like a walk in the park. She’d never be able to face him again without dying of embarrassment.
★★★
It was dark and Daisy still wasn’t back. Mark went from worry to panic in minutes.
The road leading to the farmhouse was curvy and steep, with plenty of places where it would be far too easy for someone to slide right off the edge. There were no guardrails this far out—not enough people traveled the road for the county to spend the money. He knew the path well, and even he had trouble seeing exactly where the edge of the road was in the dark.
He paced the front porch, glad that they’d finished repairing the rotten boards, because he was way too distracted with worry to dodge the hazard. By the time he saw headlights bouncing in the distance, he was coiled tight with nervous energy.
He met her as she pulled to a stop. It was all he could do to wait for her to unbuckle her seatbelt and get out of the van before he grabbed her up in a tight hug.
Relief settled over him like a warm blanket, soothing some of the rougher edges of his anxiety. She felt so good in his arms—so whole and safe. And she smelled like heaven.
Mark buried his nose in her hair and simply breathed her in while his mind caught up with what his body knew was true.
Daisy was okay. She was home.
When he was finally strong enough to loosen his death grip, she looked up at him with those pale green eyes—Grace green as they were called back in Whisper Lake, since most of the Graces bore the trait. They were wide with surprise. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink. “What’s wrong?”
“When you weren’t back before dark, I got worried.”
Her hand settled on his cheek like a butterfly. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I would have called, but there’s no cellphone service out here.”
“Maybe we should get a landline installed. That way you can call me whenever you want. Or, you know, whoever. I’m sure your family would love to hear from you.”
He couldn’t think about that now. He was still too full of relief from having her home safe again.
Not that this was her home. Hell, it wasn’t even his. Not really.
Whisper Lake had been home since he was born, and every other place seemed like an alien landscape by comparison. Having Daisy here helped, but sometimes he still ached for the familiar.
“Help me carry in some things?” she asked.
“Sure. What did you get?”
“I got some construction supplies we needed, fuel for the generator, and some groceries. The little Mexican restaurant in town was open, so I grabbed take-out for dinner. I hope you’re okay with fajitas.”
Mark’s mouth watered at the mention of food. “Perfect. Thank you.”
They carried everything in except the construction supplies, which could wait until daylight. He put the groceries away while she washed up for dinner.
A wide grin spread across her face as she washed her hands. “The water is hot.”
“A beautiful thing, right? I wanted to shower, but I was saving the first tank for you.”
She laughed. “You’re a better person than I am, Mark Cooper. I don’t think I could have stayed here that many hours without diving into some hot, steamy action.”
Her words were innocent, but the picture they painted in his mind was anything but. He’d never seen little Daisy Grace naked, but he’d seen enough to motivate his imagination to fill in all the finer details.
In his mind, her nipples were a dusty pink, puckered tight so that the hot water sluiced down either side of her breasts. Silver streams ran down her flat belly and cascaded between her thighs to caress the tender flesh hidden there. Her eyes stayed fixed on his while she rubbed her body with soapy hands, and glided over skin he was dying to touch.
His spine tingled, and a heaviness built in his balls. His cock swelled and stretched, until his whole body was shimmering with sexual energy.
He blinked to rid himself of the fantasy, and when he looked down at his hands, they were trembling.
What the hell was wrong with him? This was sweet, little Daisy Grace, not some clingy party girl looking to hook up with any man willing to pay her a little attention. She was good. Kind. Generous.
And sexy as hell without even trying.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her brow wrinkled with concern. She took a step closer, and Mark knew that if she touched him, he’d lose a little piece of his sanity.
“Just hungry,” he said, though it wasn’t completely true.
“Good. It’s great to see your appetite coming back. I knew Mexican would tempt you.”
He couldn’t tell her that it wasn’t the food making his mouth water right now. It was her.
She’d had a crush on him when she was a kid, but she would have long since outgrown that. He doubted that she’d appreciate him making advances. They were friends, and he had so few of those left, he really wanted to keep her from turning away from him.
Mark sat the folding table that Daisy had set up in the living room in front of the wood stove. He’d grown used to the little feminine touches she’d put on the house. Things were tidier with her around, and the food was a hell of a lot better. Even the air smelled sweeter, scented with her shampoo and lotion.
As he toyed with his food, his constant feeling of guilt haunted him. What would Janey think about him appreciating the things another woman did for him?
“I thought you were hungry,” she said.
“I was just thinking about Janey.”
Sympathy warmed Daisy’s green eyes. “I think about her a lot, too. She would have loved helping Ellen plan her wedding.”
“Isn’t that something all women love?” Mark remembered the stack of mutilated bride magazines that had accumulated in Janey’s room. She’d cut out pictures of dresses and cakes and a million other small things that had never held his interest. All he’d wanted was to be done with the fuss and moving on with their life as husband and wife.
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “A little of that goes a long way. When I get married, it’s going to be a simple ceremony in the fall in Mom and Dad’s back yard. I’ll have Aunt Beth make the cake, and Flora cater a simple meal. Then right to the fun part.” She bobbed her eyebrows.
“The honeymoon?” he asked.
“Well, that, sure. But I was thinking more about the grand adventure part.”
“Grand adventure?”
“That’s how Mom and Dad talk about their marriage—as one big, long adventure. I’ve always thought that was the coolest thing ever. Makes it sound way less boring than spending every day of the rest of your life shackled to the same person, doing the same things over and over.”
He thought about it for a minute while he took a few bites. “Your parents have always seemed happy.”
“Oh, they are. Sometimes to the point of nausea. But I love them anyway.”
He moved a slice of beef around on his plate. “My folks worry about me.”
She stared at him for a long moment as if trying to decide what to say. “We all do, Mark. It’s hard not having you close enough to pop in and check on. We all ache for your loss.”
“I can’t go back and face the accusation.”
She frowned at him. “What accusation?”
“You know how people in Whisper Lake are. They love to talk. I’m sure by now everyone knows that I wasn’t there when Janey needed me most—that I let her down.”
He’d been off on a fishing trip with her father, enjoying life. He hadn’t even known she’d fallen in the tub and hit her head. Their last conversation had been all about how much fun he was having. She hadn’t sounded like herself, but said she was fine. She’d never once mentioned her fall. If she had, he would have come home, and she knew that. She was so sweet and selfless that she hadn’t wanted to ruin his fun.
He’d spent her last few hours in a boat, lounging under the sun while she’d slipped into unconsciousness. The doctors said she’d probably been too confused to realize how injured she’d been. If only he’d been there with her to recognize the threat….
“Is that the way you see it? That’s insane.” Her tone was harsh, almost angry.
He looked up in surprise. “There’s no other way to see it.”
“Bullshit,” she spat. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and you can’t think that Janey would have ever wanted you putting your own life on hold and refusing to do the things that made you happy just so you could watch over her every second of the day. She would have hated that kind of overprotectiveness. Not only would it have driven her crazy, but she loved you way too much to watch you give up your passions.” She pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. When she was done, her tone was softer. “What happened to Janey was an accident, no different than if she’d crashed her car on the way to work. You have to let go of the idea that her death was somehow your fault.”
Guilt, anger and grief bubbled up and burst out of him. “But it was my job to protect her! I failed and she died!”
Daisy shoved the food out of the way and got right in his face. She cupped his cheeks so he had no option but to look at her. “You are not God. You can’t be everywhere. And it’s not fair to blame yourself for that. It’s wrong and self-destructive, and if you don’t stop, then you’re going to spend the rest of your life alone and miserable. How do you think Janey would feel knowing she was the cause of that?”
Mark had never thought about it that way. He’d never seen his suffering as anything more than the punishment he deserved. He sure as hell didn’t see it as a way of dishonoring Janey’s memory.
Tears stung his eyes. He hadn’t cried in a long time, but he knew the waterworks were starting again, and the last thing he wanted was for Daisy to see his weakness.
He shoved up from the table and rushed for the nearest door, out into the night.
Chapter Nine
Daisy thought about leaving Mark alone for nearly thirty seconds before she discarded the idea. He’d been alone enough.
She grabbed a flashlight and some paper towels, and headed out after him, doing her best not to think about the snakes that might be lurking nearby.
The air was cool and scented with the new growth of spring. A slight breeze brought the smell of honeysuckle and wood smoke with it, caressing her bare arms with the promise of a chilly night ahead. Leaves from last fall crunched under her feet, and tall weeds swayed around her calves.
She shone the light in an arc around her, but saw no sign of Mark, so she stopped in her tracks.
New spring leaves rustled on the breeze. Frogs sang from a nearby pond. She could just make out the sound of water running over rocks, and above that was the sound of Mark’s pain.
He let out a low moan and sniffed. Now that she knew where he was, she could just make out the outline of his body crouched and rocking. His back was to her, but she didn’t need to see his face to know that he still ached.
Daisy’s heart squeezed hard at the sight of his torment. She didn’t know how to help him see that he wasn’t responsible for Janey’s death, but she knew that she had to try. Even if all she could do was make sure he knew he wasn’t alone—that people still cared about him.
He must have heard her approach, because he stood and wiped his eyes on his sleeve in haste. By the time she reached him, he had squared his shoulders and turned to face her.
She kept the flashlight beam low, hoping the darkness would ease his pride. He was too strong a man to want people to see him cry, even if his tears were justified.
She scrunched the wad of paper towels in her pocket into a tight ball so he wouldn’t see them. Maybe it was best if she pretended that she hadn’t noticed his tears.
“You shouldn’t be out here in the dark,” she said. “There could be snakes.”
He let out a single bark of laughter and shook his head. “You and your snakes.”
“They get bigger and meaner at night. It’s a proven fact.”
He gave her a smile. It was a weak one, but it was still a smile, and she was going to put it firmly in the win column.
“I’ll be okay, Daisy. I just needed some time alone.”
She stepped closer and touched his arm. “You’ve already been alone too long. It’s time to come home, Mark. There are tons of people in Whisper Lake who want to help you.”
“They can’t help. No one can.”
“That’s not true. You’ve just been stuck in this self-d
estructive loop of grief and guilt for too long to see any other way. But I promise, it won’t always be like this.”
Anger tightened his jaw. “You don’t know that.”
“I do. Other people have been where you are and crawled their way back, and you’re a hell of a lot stronger than most of them.”
He shook his head. “I want to believe you, but I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have any hope left in me.” He waved toward the house. “This rundown place, out alone in these woods, is the best it’s ever going to get. At least out here I can’t hurt anyone else.”
“Bullshit.” She tried to keep her anger in check, but she was getting sick of him beating down the man she loved. “You being here, away from everyone is hurting them. We miss you. We need you. But you’re so damn mired in your useless grief that you can’t see past your own damn nose. If you want to know the truth, you’re being selfish.”
From the way his mouth twisted with rage, that was the exact wrong thing to say. “Selfish?”
“Yes. Selfish. Your parents feel like they’ve lost their son. Janey’s parents feel like they’ve lost their son, too. You were already like family to them, and you being all the way out here is making them grieve for you, too on top of grieving for Janey. And what about your sister? It’s not too much for Ellen to ask that her brother attend her wedding, but you won’t crawl out of your hovel long enough to even call her and wish her well. If that’s not selfish, I don’t know what is.”
Mark grabbed her by the arms. His hot hands held on tight, shaking with restraint. Emotion raged in his bloodshot eyes, which darted back and forth. “I didn’t ask you to come here, and I sure as hell didn’t ask you to judge my actions. You have no idea how I feel—no idea what it’s like to wake up every day, a prisoner of your own bad choices.”
“Then tell me. How does it feel?”
“I want to escape. I ran away here, hoping it would help to not have to face everyone, to lick my wounds in solace, to rage and scream at the world for its injustice. But it hasn’t helped. Nothing helps.” His eyes closed in defeat. “I just want to feel something—anything—other than rage and guilt and grief.”
