Promises, Promises

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Promises, Promises Page 15

by Shelley Cooper


  Halfway up he spotted her backpack, looped around a short, stubby branch. For one crazy, heart-stopping second he thought she’d fallen. He let out a shaky breath when he heard movement above him and spied a flash of leg. Evidently the backpack had grown cumbersome and she’d decided to leave it behind. The way she had him, he reflected wryly.

  They were somewhere near the top when Gretchen plopped herself into the vee formed by two branches and turned a face lit with excitement to him. “Isn’t this glorious?” she asked in a voice filled with awestruck wonder.

  A bit more tentatively Marco settled onto a branch. The view was dizzying.

  “Oh, look,” Gretchen cried, pointing, “I can see the courthouse. And over there is the pool. They’ve got quite a crowd today. I never realized how small everybody looked from up here. It’s almost like being in an airplane.”

  It had to be his imagination, but the air definitely seemed thinner up here. Marco wanted to reach a hand up to loosen the collar of his shirt, but didn’t dare break the death grip he had on the branch. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and his hands trembled so alarmingly he feared he would lose his balance and go crashing to the ground.

  For a while by concentrating on Gretchen’s animated face, the strong pull he felt toward her overcame his fear. Then he made the mistake of looking down again.

  “Gretchen?” he finally managed, his voice strained.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but I don’t think I can move.”

  She was still busy studying the view. “What’s the matter?” she asked, sounding distracted. “Are you stuck?”

  “Not exactly.” He paused. “You see, I have this…thing about heights.”

  Her gaze flew to him. “Why didn’t you tell me this when we were still on the ground?” she asked softly.

  “It’s not something I’m proud of. Plus, I was kind of hoping I’d outgrown it.”

  “How long have you had this fear?”

  “Since I was a kid.” He grimaced. “I’m probably the only thirty-four-year-old in this country who hasn’t flown in an airplane.”

  “That’s not true.” An impish light gleamed in her eyes. “I’ll bet there are plenty of thirty-four-year-old Amish men who’ve never flown in an airplane, either.”

  He surprised himself by grinning. “Thanks for trying to make things easier for me.”

  “Is it helping?”

  “Not really. But I appreciate the effort.”

  She peered closely at him. “You do look a little pale. You’re not going to pass out on me or anything, are you?”

  “I’ll be fine, so long as I don’t look down. I’m just not sure how I’m going to get down.”

  “The same way you got up. I can talk you down, Marco.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll work. I really can’t move.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. With the same surefootedness she’d shown climbing up, she began her descent.

  “Gretchen,” he called after her. It cost him, but he managed to add, “Don’t leave me. Please.”

  “I’m not leaving,” she called back. “I’m getting my backpack.”

  A minute later, backpack in hand, she stood on a branch beneath him. After unzipping a side compartment, she pulled out a cell phone. Marco watched in bemusement while she punched in a number, then held the phone to her ear.

  “You have your cell phone with you?”

  “When on an adventure, one should always be prepared for any emergency,” she replied, before speaking softly into the phone.

  “Please don’t tell me you called 911,” he said, when she pushed the off button.

  “Of course not.” She replaced the phone in her backpack. “I called the police.”

  “That’s even worse,” Marco muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Comprehension dawned in her eyes, and her hand went to her mouth. “Your brother. He’s chief of police. I’m so sorry. I forgot.”

  “Nothing we can do about it now.” He forced a heartiness into his voice that he didn’t feel.

  “Oh, yes, there is,” Gretchen said. “You can let me talk you down from here before there’s too much of a commotion.”

  “Before I embarrass myself any further, you mean.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has fears, Marco. One of yours just happens to be heights.”

  The sincerity in her voice warmed him. And soothed his nerves.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked, curious.

  “The usual.” She settled the backpack on her back. “Spiders. Sharks. Although I’ve never had a personal encounter with one, thank goodness. Snakes.”

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  “You,” she replied immediately.

  He could tell by the consternation in her eyes that she regretted the impulsive remark. “If it’s any consolation, you rattle me, too, Gretchen.”

  “As much as being up in this tree?”

  “Much more than being up in this tree.”

  “Oh.” Her voice turned brisk. “Time’s awastin’. We need to get you on solid ground.”

  He tightened his grip on the branch. “How do you plan on doing that, seeing as I can’t move?”

  Next thing he knew, she was standing at his side.

  “Here’s the plan,” she said. “Step by step, branch by branch, we’re going to climb down. Together. You and me. Okay?”

  He looked down, then quickly shook his head. “I can’t move, Gretchen.”

  “Sure you can,” she encouraged.

  He shook his head again. “Every time I look down, the world spins.”

  “Then don’t look down.”

  His gaze found hers. “How can I climb down, if I don’t look down?”

  “Simple. Look at me. Don’t look up. Don’t look down. Look only at me. I’ll tell you where to place your feet and hands. Trust me?”

  Marco stared at her wordlessly. He trusted her, but despite that trust, his fear still held him paralyzed.

  Understanding and empathy filled Gretchen’s eyes. “Do it for me, Marco,” she implored. “Because I have faith in you.”

  She was so lovely. When those big brown eyes of hers pleaded with him like that, it made him want to promise her anything.

  “And because,” she added, “if those sirens off in the distance are any indication, your brother and what sounds like the entire police and fire department are on their way.”

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  Her smile was more brilliant than the sun. “That’s the spirit.”

  It seemed to take forever, but when they finally reached the safety of the ground below, Marco felt a surge of triumph. He’d done it. Sweat poured off him like a river, his legs felt as sturdy as jelly, and his heart thundered louder than an entire drum corps in his ears, but he’d actually done it. He’d climbed a tree and lived to tell the tale.

  With Gretchen’s help, of course.

  He turned to thank her for that help and for her belief in him, but the words died unspoken on his lips. His sense of accomplishment faded. Standing not five feet away, watching them, was his older brother. Parked at the curb, lights flashing, sat a police cruiser and a fire truck. The cavalry had arrived.

  Drawing himself up to his full height and squaring his shoulders, Marco faced Carlo. Though his brother was too much of a professional to show his amusement outright, there was a definite gleam in the eyes that raked him from head to toe.

  “Hello, Gretchen,” Carlo greeted. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Hi, Carlo. Nice to see you, too.”

  “The station received a call about a man stuck in a tree.”

  “I made the call,” she said.

  “That’s what I was told.” Carlo turned his attention to Marco. “Which leads me to the conclusion that you were the man stuck in the tree. Unless, that is, someone’s still up there.”

  “No
one’s up there,” Marco replied. He spread his arms. “As you can see, I am no longer stuck.”

  Carlo’s gaze passed from Marco to Gretchen and back to Marco again. “Mind telling me what the two of you are up to?”

  “We’re having an adventure,” Gretchen said.

  Marco suppressed a groan. There was no doubt in his mind that his brother was jumping to some pretty interesting conclusions. One meeting he might have dismissed, but two? And in such a short period of time?

  After digesting her words silently for a minute, Carlo said, “An adventure. I see. And part of this adventure is climbing a tree?”

  Gretchen nodded. “Yes.”

  “You don’t climb trees,” Carlo told Marco.

  “I know that.”

  “Antonio is the adventurous one in the family.”

  “I know that, too.”

  “Then why were you up there, getting stuck?”

  “Because it’s a damn silly fear, if you ask me,” Marco snapped.

  “I agree,” Carlo said. “You over it yet?”

  Marco gritted his teeth. “I’m getting there.”

  “Any other adventure I should know about, before I leave?” Carlo asked. “Maybe it would be easier if I just had the truck follow you around.”

  “We’ll manage without it,” Marco said.

  Carlo tipped his head at them. “The taxpayers of this town thank you for sparing them the expense.” His lips twitched. “Have a good adventure, you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  With a wave he headed over to the squad car.

  “He’s added two and two together and gotten five, hasn’t he?” Gretchen asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Your whole family is going to hear about this, aren’t they?”

  Arm raised to shield his eyes from the sun, Marco watched his brother drive away. The fire engine followed.

  “Oh, yes, they certainly are,” he confirmed.

  “And that really bothers you.”

  He lowered his arm and turned to face her. “No, Gretchen, it doesn’t.”

  She looked surprised. “It doesn’t?”

  “No. We’re having an adventure here. Let everyone else think what they want to think. It won’t stop us from having fun.”

  “Well, well, well,” she drawled, shaking her head and leaning back against the tree.

  “What?”

  “Yesterday you were nearly apoplectic when your family thought we were sleeping together. Today, you don’t care what anyone thinks. You, Dr. Garibaldi, are definitely making progress. I’m impressed.”

  He was making progress, wasn’t he? And why not? The sun was shining. He was in the company of a lovely young woman who expected nothing but companionship from him. He’d climbed a tree. And for the next few days he didn’t have a care in the world. He’d be a fool not to enjoy it.

  “Thank you,” he said. “What’s our next adventure?”

  “How does walking barefoot through the grass sound to you?”

  Marco laughed. “After that tree? Like a walk in the park.”

  The sun was warm on her face, and the grass felt deliciously cool and springy between her toes. Shoes dangling from one hand, Gretchen strolled through the park while, out of the corner of one eye, she covertly studied the man at her side.

  Like her own, Marco’s steps were measured, those of a man unused to going barefoot and carefully trying to anticipate any hazard awaiting to trip the unwary. Gretchen smiled. What a pair of tenderfeet they were.

  The morning certainly hadn’t lacked for drama. One thing was certain: there was never a dull moment when Marco Garibaldi was around. Gretchen couldn’t help wondering what further surprises might be lying in store for her this week.

  Whatever they were, none of them would give her the deep sense of satisfaction she’d experienced when she’d helped him down from the tree. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be needed.

  There was no denying that up in that tree Marco had definitely needed her. Far more than he had over the weekend, while he was watching Kristen. The feeling was so seductive, she was half-tempted to find out if he had any other fears that she could aid in putting to rest.

  Gretchen brought her thoughts up short. She was entering the danger zone here, and she knew it. If she needed to feel needed, there were plenty of worthy organizations in the greater Pittsburgh area that would gladly accept any and all services she cared to volunteer. What she didn’t need was to get any closer to this man who had made his intention of keeping his emotional distance from her more than clear.

  But she did feel closer to him. How could she not? They had shared an intensely emotional experience. Things were different between them now. He had to know it, too.

  “It isn’t wise,” Marco said.

  Gretchen started. Giving herself a mental shake, she focused on the man at her side.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Thinking deep thoughts while on an adventure. It takes all the fun and spontaneity out of things.” His gaze sharpened on her. “That’s what you were doing, weren’t you? Thinking deep thoughts?”

  Not anymore, Gretchen decided. From now on, until the end of their adventure, deep thoughts like the kind she’d been thinking were strictly forbidden. Marco was right on one account: they definitely took all the fun out of things. They wouldn’t bring her anything but trouble, either, if she chose to act on them.

  “Actually,” she said, “I was wondering what brought about your miraculous change in attitude.”

  “You mean my not caring what Carlo or the rest of my family thinks about our spending time together?”

  “Exactly. That’s not too deep a thought, is it?”

  “I guess not.”

  “So,” she repeated, “what brought about the change? What’s different between yesterday and today?”

  He shrugged. “It’s simple, really. I finally got caught up on my sleep.”

  Gretchen stopped dead in her tracks. When he realized she was no longer at his side, Marco turned to face her.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She held up the hand not carrying her shoes. “Let me make sure I understand you correctly. You’re saying you were so touchy about what I and everyone else thought because you were suffering from sleep deprivation?”

  His grin was wry. “Put like that, it does sound pretty lame.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  “And you’re not going to settle for anything less than the truth.”

  She studied him for a minute. Did it really matter? The important thing was that he’d changed his attitude. What good would it do to dissect it to death? She’d only brought the matter up in the first place because she hadn’t wanted to tell him what she’d been thinking.

  “Only if you feel the need to tell me.”

  He bent down and picked up a dandelion whose head had turned a fluffy white. Twirling the stem in his fingers, he said, “The simple truth is that, for reasons I don’t totally understand myself, I’ve been overreacting when it came to you and me. I think you’ll agree it’s time I stopped. Overreacting, that is.”

  Her skepticism hadn’t totally evaporated. “So you’re not all worried that your brother’s burning up the phone lines about our tree-climbing adventure?”

  “Let them jump to all the false conclusions they want. I could care less.”

  “And you’re not worried that I might still have designs on you?”

  “No. As far as we’re concerned, we know exactly where each other stands.”

  She certainly knew where she stood with him. In front of him, in back of him, but never beside him. Because he wouldn’t allow it.

  “Besides,” he said, “I seem to recall you promising that you wouldn’t deprive me of my confirmed-bachelor status. And you always keep your promises, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said flatly, “I do.”

  He held the dandelion out to her. “Make a wish.”

  She blinked. “Wh
at?”

  “Haven’t you ever wished on a dandelion before?”

  She’d wished on stars, on turkey bones and on birthday cake candles, but never on a dandelion. “Not that I recall.”

  Marco’s voice grew reflective. “It’s a Garibaldi family tradition. When we were kids, my brothers and I used to call the ones that had turned white blow balls. What you do is make a wish, and then we take turns blowing the seeds off. Whoever blows the last seed off gets his wish.”

  “Meanwhile, you’ve released thousands of seeds into the air, to grow even more weeds next year,” she said.

  “There is that,” he agreed, smiling. “Of course, not everyone thinks of dandelions as weeds.”

  “Ten-to-one they’re not homeowners,” she said.

  “You have a point. So, are you going to make a wish? I’ll even let you go first.”

  “How magnanimous of you,” she murmured, but she couldn’t help smiling. Closing her eyes, Gretchen wished for the strength not to fall in love with this man.

  “Go ahead,” Marco urged. “Blow.”

  She did, and fully two-thirds of the seeds floated into the air and were carried away. There was no way Marco shouldn’t be able to blow the remaining seeds off. She looked away. Today simply wasn’t her day for wish fulfillment. Not that she believed in the power of a mere plant to make her wish come true.

  To her surprise, though, after he’d taken his turn, Marco handed the dandelion back to her. When she looked at it, Gretchen saw one lonely seed still clinging to the bulb.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Leave just one seed.”

  “I guess I didn’t blow hard enough.”

  Or maybe, over the years, he’d blown the seeds off enough dandelions to know exactly how to leave one behind. Had he deliberately left it for her? Did it really matter? Gretchen pursed her lips and blew.

  “Looks like you got your wish,” Marco said as the last seed floated away.

  She gazed at him, her heart thumping madly. She hoped so. Oh, how she truly hoped so.

  Chapter 10

  One minute they were strolling along in companionable silence. The next, Marco was hopping on one foot and howling in pain.

 

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