Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  “So that’s the problem.”

  “Some people are meant to remain single,” she reminded herself as much as Imogene.

  “I probably can’t change your mind about that, but I can give you a cutting of my pink camellias. They’d sure look pretty against your yellow cottage.”

  “Really?” Carly squealed. She bit her lip and looked across the street. “Where?”

  “Why not back by your stick pile?”

  “You tired of looking at that?”

  “Just problem solving.”

  “I could do more with the back. In fact, it could use a major face-lift.”

  “Imogene!” A man’s voice called from her neighbor’s cottage. Imogene sighed. “I’ll see what Baldy wants and bring the cutting over in a little bit.”

  “Okay. Give me enough time to take a shower. And thanks for the tea.” Now inspired, Carly set off imagining pink camellia bushes against a short, white picket fence to hide her stick pile.

  Adam threw bags of fertilizer into the bed of his truck. He planned to take it home with him and haul it to the farm in the morning. He started his engine, and his eyes automatically scanned the dusky surrounds. Several logging trucks rolled through the heart of town. The last one squealed its brakes, and his heart lurched. His gaze involuntarily shot to the scene.

  He saw a woman with a camera and had to shake his head. She obviously hadn’t realized that as soon as she stuck her foot onto the crosswalk, all traffic on both sides of the divided road would come to a screeching halt. The trucker motioned her across. They seemed to carry on some kind of argumentative conversation with hand motions. It appeared she’d only meant to go as far as the median to take some photos, but the trucker wasn’t moving until she gave in and proceeded across all four lanes of traffic. He waved and stepped on the gas. She stood with her hands on her hips, her camera dangling from a shoulder strap.

  Thankfully, the squeal of brakes wasn’t caused by Carly. He missed her. There was always the possibility of seeing her when he came to Sweet Home. Generally, he did business in Brownsville, but the fertilizer had been on sale. Anyway, since he wasn’t volunteering at Sweet Life, and with Jimmy miffed at him, things had been too quiet where Carly was concerned. And it was driving him crazy. Like a moth drawn to the fire, he hopped in his truck and veered off Main Street, heading toward Hawthorne.

  When he drove into Carly’s drive, he sat in the truck for a moment, reconsidering. While he’d been lonely, things had also been uneventful and calm. Boring, in fact. Now that he’d cooled off over Jimmy’s threat, he didn’t take it too seriously. And with Dad—he stiffened his backbone and opened the door.

  Carly’s lights were on inside the cottage and Adam rapped three times, then remembered that was Jimmy’s knock and added one more. She didn’t keep him waiting long. But when she opened the door, he blinked. Then froze. Stared.

  “Oh!” Her face reddened. What little he could see of it, hiding within the glorious abundance of long blond dancing curls that hung over her shoulders almost to her waist. Her hair made a magnificent golden halo, and she was an angel. And his angel wore no head covering.

  His mouth went dry. He stared. And kept staring. His fingers itched to touch it. Of course, he’d seen his sisters like that occasionally. And he’d seen women from outside the church with all sorts of hairstyles, but the shock of seeing those long blond curls on the woman he loved was almost more than he could bear. Yet he couldn’t look away. His heart pounded with male excitement. He grinned. “I probably should’ve called.” So glad I didn’t.

  She tried to brush her hair off her shoulders, but it just bounced back.

  “It’s really curly. How do you get it under your cap?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I thought you were Imogene from across the street. She’s bringing me camellia cuttings. I plan to plant them in the backyard, and I’m also putting a little white picket fence around my stick pile.”

  “I’ll build it for you. I’ll start right now if you’d like.”

  Smiling, she stepped away from the door. “You might as well come in before Cocoa gets out.”

  The rabbit wasn’t anywhere in sight, but he wasn’t going to point that out to her. Inside she sat on a chair, and he took the lumpy sofa.

  “I suppose you’re here to check on me since Jimmy’s out of town.”

  Good news. “I didn’t even know he was gone.”

  She raised a curious brow.

  He shrugged. “I miss Sweet Life, not knowing what’s going on with the residents.” Why did he say that? But from the smile on her face, it worked.

  “Since it’s colder, they’re cooped up inside. Sonny, who Miranda calls Mr. Gadget, has more time on his hands, and so he dismantled the heating unit.”

  Grinning, Adam said, “That’s awful. But what about you? Any scrapes I’ve missed?”

  She lifted her chin. “None whatsoever. Um… except”—she hesitated, and he braced himself—“I asked Ann if she’d head up a children’s volunteer group.”

  He hadn’t expected that. “What’d she say?”

  “That she has to take your dad’s feelings into account, but that she’d pray about it.”

  “She’d be good at it.” He made a mental note to encourage Ann to do it.

  Carly fiddled with a long strand of her hair. “Have you heard from Dale about James Irish?”

  “Jah. He’s coming up blank.”

  Her expression fell. She looked so vulnerable that it was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms and kiss away her worries. And run his fingers through her hair while he had her that close. He had plenty of curiosity about it. If he pulled it, would it spring back? Was it as soft as it looked? He licked his lips. Something thumped his shoe. He looked down to see Cocoa acting strangely.

  “Better scratch him behind the ear. And you’d better hurry.”

  Doing as bid, he found himself saying, “Maybe if we went fishing at Crawfordsville bridge, we’d get some inspiration regarding James Irish.”

  “Are the fish biting now?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She reddened. “No.”

  “Great.” He straightened and rubbed his pants. “It’s a date.”

  “Well I don’t know about that.”

  He shrugged. “Let’s argue about that Sunday afternoon. I’ll pick you up around two.”

  “Jah, okay.”

  Cocoa thumped twice and Adam quickly scratched him behind the ears again. “How long does this go on?”

  “I don’t know. I think he likes you.”

  Just then there was a knock at the door. Carly looked stricken, and Cocoa hopped away, hiding beneath the table.

  “You want me to hide, too?” he joked.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just Imogene. She’s been wanting to meet you anyway.”

  Carly opened the door, and her neighbor stepped inside.

  “I saw the truck. Hope I’m not imposing, but I promised you these cuttings.”

  “Of course not. It’s time you met my friend Adam.”

  He took the cuttings and shook Imogene’s hand. He made some small talk as he went to Carly’s cupboard and put them in water. When he turned around, both women seemed shell-shocked. “What? I’m a tree farmer. I know what to do with a cutting.”

  “He’s a keeper,” Imogene said.

  “And he’s building me a white picket fence to bring out their pink color.” Carly blushed.

  Imogene smiled. “Is that a fact?”

  Starting to sweat under the collar, Adam took his leave. But driving home all he could do was grin.

  Carly lifted her skirt to keep it from catching on blackberry twigs as she followed her fishing-gear-clad companion down an embankment to a rocky but grassy shoreline located between two bridges. To their left was the historic Crawfordsville Covered Bridge. Restored now, its white paint was pure and picturesque against the green tangle that overhung the Calapooia River. To their right was the modern concre
te edifice that carried traffic along the Halsey—Sweet Home Road.

  Adam leaned his pole against a tree and grinned, unfolding a blanket to a size just big enough for two people to sit upon if they were welded together. Then he patted it invitingly.

  “Jah. That’s not happening.” She scooped it up, gave it a firm shake and watched it settle on the lumpy ground. Even at that, she would be closer than she could probably handle to the man who made her insides tingle. Dale had never made her feel like this.

  Throwing his head back with laughter, he gave in and sat cross legged. She watched him ready his gear. “If you change your mind and want to fish, I’ll share my pole.”

  Not knowing if it was helpful Adam speaking or flirty Adam—whom she didn’t fully understand yet—she replied, “We’ll see.” But she joined him on the blanket. The gentle breeze occasionally rustled the leaves, and bright sunlight filtered through the green canopy, dazzling the red-striped bobber.

  He explained, “We might see some salmon. Since the Brownsville Dam was removed, a few are finding their way back here again.”

  “I have no experience with fishing. Is that what we’re hunting?”

  Adam laughed. “Jah. But I doubt we’ll see any.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.”

  Stretching out his legs, he yawned. “Jah, that pretty much describes me. I should’ve brought you down here last summer, when it was warmer.”

  “I’m warm enough.” She smiled. “Why did you bring me here today, Adam?”

  “I thought I just explained that. I wanted to see if the salmon are running.”

  She tilted her head and pouted her lip. “Really?”

  “Because I missed that dimple you show when you get mad.”

  She felt like putty in his hands. Didn’t really like it. “I missed you, too. So does this mean you’ve sorted through those major issues in your life?”

  “Partly.”

  She lowered her gaze, feeling frustrated that he was clear as mud about issues that supposedly were huge enough to keep them apart while she was making her feelings obviously known.

  Sensing her frustration, he tried to explain. “Look, when we talked before, I was trying to decide whether I was going to make some changes in my life. Changes that would incur costs, all around. I thought I had to have all the answers, know how it was going to work out before I got close to you. But I’m never going to have all the answers, and I’m tired of waiting.” Adam laid aside his pole and took her hand. “Tired of waiting for you. That’s all I know. Can’t it be enough?”

  Carly raised her eyes and nodded, a lump forming in her throat.

  “I can’t guarantee I won’t hurt you.”

  Irritated by his last remark, she jerked her hand away. “Do people in love talk like that? Do they even think about hurting one another?”

  “Well they do when somebody’s brother threatens them.”

  Relaxing, she thought she better understood. But she wasn’t worried about Jimmy. And she couldn’t see how it would serve any purpose to force Adam to admit that his dad hated her. If he was willing to overcome that obstacle on his own, she’d just have to trust him.

  He lay on his back now, staring up at the clouds that peeked through their private canopy. “See those clouds?”

  She laid back and nodded.

  “They aren’t rain clouds. Just clouds. People who serve only themselves are clouds without water carried by the winds. But that’s not you. You’re the watering, nurturing type. You draw people. I tried to resist at first. But I can’t.”

  “So I’m a rain cloud?”

  He rolled on his side. “Jah, you can be kinda stormy.” His own gaze grew so dark she wondered if she should take cover. But his touch was gentle on her cheek. She vowed she wasn’t going to make the first move this time. She didn’t have to wait long. His lips found hers. And she allowed it. Enjoyed it.

  His hand went to her waist, and he pulled her close. Her hand tentative against his clothed chest, she let herself relax in him.

  When they drew apart, he gave her a lopsided grin. But her eyes widened with what she saw taking place behind him. With a giggle, she cried, “Look!”

  Behind him his pole was being dragged downstream.

  He jumped to his feet, did a little dance at the edge of the stream, and for a while she expected him to go in after it. “Of all the—” He finally stilled and placed his hands on his hips. “What can I say? It was worth it.”

  “Was that a salmon?”

  “It had to be.” He shook his head regretfully.

  “Oh, the poor fish.”

  “I’m sure the pole will get snagged someplace. Someone will either cut it loose or have their dinner.”

  She rose and gazed downstream. “I hope so. Next year I’ll know what to get you for your birthday.”

  “I don’t want a pole. Next year, I want a repeat of this year.” He grinned. “That was the beginning of all this, you know.”

  “I suppose you’re always going to look back to that night. Always going to blame me for everything.”

  “No. I’m going to thank you. But I’ll probably always have to get you out of your messes.” Before she could argue, he snatched her hand. “Let’s take this stuff back to the truck and explore.”

  They walked along the inside of the covered bridge and ran their fingers over the ridges of carved initials that had survived coats of paint. Now they knew that J. H. + M. S. weren’t the initials they’d hoped to find. “Somebody was determined,” he said, giving her a look of sheer purpose. It thrilled her to her black-clad toes.

  She lowered her lashes and moved to one of the latticed openings. “Do you think they fished back there, in our spot?”

  “Probably.” He grinned. “If Martha was as pretty then as you are now, I’ll bet he lost a pole or two.”

  Feeling happier than she ever had, she twirled and went to the other side. “Or did they stand under that huge tree and kiss?”

  “It certainly looks like a kissing tree.” He captured her hand. “Let’s go find out.”

  Laughing she allowed him to lead her beneath the huge, droopy evergreen. She looked up. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? It must be thirty feet in diameter.” She ran her hand over the rough, mossy bark. Breathlessly happy, she met his gaze.

  “Magnificent.” His voice softened. “Beautiful.” He touched her lips. “Wildly, delicious.”

  She smacked him playfully.

  But he drew her close, and when she was encased in his arms, she’d never felt so cherished, so in love. So free. When at last they pulled away, she asked, “Is this love?”

  “Jah, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure it is.” He leaned his back against the tree and backed her up against him so that they could both watch the Calapooia River. His arms around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder, he whispered, “Why did we wait so long to admit it?”

  It was a rhetorical question. They both had good reasons.

  “I’m going to be busy the next several weeks. I need to warn you that you probably won’t see much of me. But that doesn’t mean… Ahh!” He pushed her away, and she stumbled over one of the gnarly roots.

  Gasping, she watched as he suddenly sprang away from her. “Ants!”

  She scrambled up and into the clearing as he proceeded to hop on one foot and then the other, pulling off his shoes and his coat. “Ants,” he repeated.

  Frantically, she checked her own clothing, but she seemed to be free of them. She moved closer. “Are they biting you?”

  “Some, but they’re crawling everywhere. Yuck!” He continued swiping and slapping. You’d better look the other way.”

  Turning around, she crossed her arms and listened to his mumbles and rustling of clothes he must surely be discarding. “There’s a restroom over there.”

  “Good idea.”

  She heard him moving in that direction, and then the door closed. Her lips curled, though she did feel sorry for him. She went to examine the kissing
tree. They should have noticed earlier. Beneath the pine needles were mounds of duff and ants. Poor Adam. With what came out as part sigh and part giggle, she went to wait for him at the picnic table.

  When he finally came out, he grinned sheepishly. “I think we need to try out a few more trees, sweetheart. Because that’s definitely not going to be my kissing tree.” She laughed as he took her hand, his other scratching the back of his neck. “Come on. I gotta get you home and go buy some ant lotion or something.”

  She could tell he was miserable when at the door his good-bye kiss was brief. He’d left her with the admonition that the following Sunday his family was having a birthday party for his nephew, and he didn’t know when he’d be able to see her again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Humming, Carly placed her bike in Sweet Life’s bike rack and waved at Aesop. He purred over on his red scooter, and she stopped to talk to him, noticing his fuzzy, ear-muffed hat. “You’re bundled up today.”

  He slapped his gloves together. “So—so you like my new hat? On sale at the mart. If—if you’re gonna ride your bike all winter, you should get one. Might”—he grinned—“might mess up your hair. But it’ll keeps you nice and toasty. Worth it.”

  Her hair. Unbidden she recalled the sight of Adam standing on her stoop the night she’d just washed her hair. She’d recognized the admiration in his eyes. And then he’d asked her out on a date. And on their date, he’d confessed his love. She grinned, realizing Aesop was watching her curiously. “Guess I should get out my winter scarves. But I think Auntie will soon be bringing me to work. She did for a couple months last winter.”

  “Well—well it’s too cold to sit still. Have a good day, miss.”

  “You, too, Aesop.”

  She turned the corner and rapped on Rocco’s door as she passed.

  He popped his head out. “You sure got a bounce in your step this morning.”

  “Do I?” Carly grinned. “Guess I love my job.”

  “Wish I could say the same.”

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  “Yep. Just found there’s a plumbing leak at two of the independent-living houses.”