by June Shaw
Dane jerked his line. He had no business enjoying the kiss he’d just shared with the woman behind him, even though the idea of pressing his lips against hers had been appealing since the first moment he’d seen her. And her kiss’s sweetness had been even more satisfying than he’d imagined. That was the main problem. He had kissed other lips since Anna’s, but none of them meant a thing. Erin’s lips, however, had drawn him in like a comforting welcome.
But the woman was a stranger. She’d only given him that quick kiss because she was happy, and he had been happy for her.
A sense of strangeness ran through him, stirring up uneasiness. He ordinarily took control of tough situations, yet this one confused him. His whole body felt strained, as if tensed for something, but unsure of what. He slid a glance sideways, looking for a possible answer.
Erin sat holding the rod, her face lowered. With the bill of her cap backwards, he could see that she wasn’t watching her cork. She made the slightest sigh, and a tear dropped to her cheek.
Man, he shouldn’t have kissed her.
“They aren’t here anymore,” he said, brusquely reeling in. “We’ll try another place.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded small.
Once their rods were down in the boat, he drove. She faced forward, away from him. Her cap flew up. Erin caught it, thrust it down on her metal seat, and sat on the whole thing.
He noted the slump of her shoulders. The woman was totally out of her element here, like a fresh-water perch tossed into salt water. She was accustomed to snowstorms and mammoth buildings and cluttered streets with rush traffic. She was far from home, mourning an adored member of her family and just trying to carry out Tilly’s wishes. And he had taken advantage. In Erin’s moment of joy with that bass, he’d given in to the temptation that had plagued him, and leaned over the fish she held and kissed her tempting lips.
When his lips pressed to hers, he’d wanted to plant more kisses around her mouth.
He gritted his teeth. He would never fall in love again. Couldn’t ever. The soreness of losing the woman he’d cherished lingered like a fresh wound doused with acid. He was only part of a man now, with his other part gone, snapped away when that dreaded leaky heart revealed itself and took Anna. Many conditions like that didn’t cause major problems, her doctor said, but hers…. Dane could never risk facing another love and then losing her.
He would avoid Erin as much as possible until she was gone.
“This used to be a good spot,” he said, slowing the boat so he wouldn’t scare the fish. He anchored and saw Erin lifting her line. She glanced around at the few bushes and weeds onshore, and without making eye contact with him, stood and cast toward shore. He threw out in a different direction.
The sun, almost directly overhead, created dancing spots on the still water and immense heat in Dane’s body. How much more so the hot temperature must be affecting her. A wave of guilt washed through him. He was being selfish. She’d gotten more than the one fish she’d wanted, and so had he. But he hadn’t fished in so long and now that he was out here, he didn’t want to leave. He loved the sport and eating the fresh fish, which he hadn’t had in such a long time. And the woman standing in the bow of his boat added to his contentment.
But he’d soon have to take her out of the sun and get her into air conditioning.
A splash from behind made him turn.
Erin wore a delighted expression. “That was a fish. I saw a fish jump.”
“They do that sometimes.”
“I hope I can see another one.” She smiled, peering at the water, possibly wishing she could mentally call another fish out.
Dane laughed. “If one flies up, see if you can grab it.”
She smirked. “That’s not funny.”
“Sometimes you are, or the things that make you happy.”
She peered at him, a studious look in her eye. She turned, jerked on her line, let it sit a moment, and then reeled in. She glanced at the bare shoreline. “This is a canal, isn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, she cast again. Her cork landed close to clustered water lilies, a nice hiding place for fish.
“You’re getting pretty good,” Dane admitted. He reeled in and threw near her cork. “Maybe the people down here will decide to make you a Cajun.”
“I don’t think so. You people talk too funny.”
“We talk funny?”
“Well y’all wouldn’t know proper speech if it bit you.”
“Oh, really. Would you happen to know the plural of that word you just used?”
“Y’all?” She considered and then shook her head. “What is it?”
“All y’all.”
A grin played at the corner of Erin’s lips. Probably she wasn’t sure if he was kidding. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“And,” Dane said, getting into the lightness of the moment, “everybody around here certainly knows all about Shakespeare. We learned that when we were just little kids.”
“Now that’s impressive. It says a lot for your schools.”
“Yep, Shakespeare—one of my favorite rods. All of my Shakespeares have caught tons of fish.”
Erin really smiled. She turned away, giving full attention to her cork and popping it. Dane popped his. Neither of their corks went down. No water stirred. “They always used to bite here,” he said as though apologizing for the fish not wanting to get caught.
She sat. “How long has it been since you’ve been out here?”
A pang of regret—for too many loses—flashed through him. “Almost two years.”
She set down her rod, lifted the water cooler and drank. She held the cooler out to him. He shook his head. Dane reeled in, sat, and drank coffee from the thermos.
“Maybe you need to come out here more often,” she said. “You seem so tied up in your work around the fields that you probably aren’t having any fun.”
“Fun?” He tried to recall when he’d experienced that. Possibly last night, for a few minutes at T-Fred’s place, and this morning had been fun for him. But they’d been only fleeting moments.
“I noticed a computer in the office at the plantation. Who used it? Not Aunt Tilly?”
“Me. For payroll and keeping track of production. And I’m not sure, but I don’t think Tilly ever touched a computer.”
Erin responded with a weak smile. “Probably not. She was more concerned with people than keeping up with technology.”
Recalling Tilly’s friendly manner and the quick way she’d become friends with his mother made Dane pleased. He also felt sorry that she, too, was gone.
“You always look sad.” Erin peered at him and then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”
He yanked off his cap. He raked his fingers back through his hair and found it damp. He replaced the cap. “How about you? You like writing for that soap thing?”
She grinned. “A soap opera wasn’t my first choice. But I do enjoy the creativity. Getting a job on staff let me break into the business.” She gazed aside and then looked at him. “I’m happy enough.” She sipped from the water cooler. The skin on her neck looked especially fair, reminding Dane of the thin patch of equally fair skin that ran atop her waistband when the wind fanned her shirt.
He jerked his thoughts away from there. “And your job’s where you met your man Travis. He must take you a lot of places to have fun in that big city?” The words weren’t out of his mouth before he regretted asking them. What business did he have inquiring about her love life?
A look of discontent flashed over her face. It washed away in a moment, replaced by a neutral expression. “I’ve gone to a few exciting places. But mostly I just work.”
He shunted the conversation away from her personal life. “It’s past noon, and I didn’t bring you anything to eat. I hadn’t planned to stay out here this long.”
“I don’t imagine so, if you’d only planned to let me catch one fish.” She gave him a sincere smile. “And I really thank you for letti
ng me do that.”
He screwed the top back on his thermos. “I think we have plenty enough, and it’s miserably hot. I doubt if your skin ever met with this much sun. Are you about ready to go in?”
She set her cap on her head, the bill forward, with the crayfish’s stuffed claws reaching out. Erin gave him a small salute. “Whatever you say, captain.”
“I say let’s go home.” He cranked up the motor and drove.
Home. The concept appealed more to Erin than any other, yet she knew so little about what it meant, except during the times she’d been able to spend with her aunt. Even though Tilly hadn’t married until recently, she’d always given Erin the sense that she was wanted.
Those feelings had been snatched away this week, dashing Erin back into shaky reality.
She glanced over her shoulder at Dane, steering the boat and giving her a small smile. She forced on her own smile, knew it was weak, and faced forward.
Erin reassured herself she would continue as she had been, proving to both her parents—or possibly only herself—that she could stick to things and people. As Dane just mentioned, she had her job and the big city life. What more could she want?
She wasn’t sure. She only knew it was more than she had already experienced in her life.
As their boat slid ahead, her side vision let her glimpse a flash springing up from the water.
“A fish,” she cried, turning to see it disappear beneath the surface. “Dane, I saw another fish jump.”
“They aim to please strangers. Haven’t you heard about our southern hospitality?” He gave a tight-lipped grin, the corners of his eyes lifting.
She smiled back at him. “I have. And I do appreciate the show they gave me.” She turned ahead, watching for anything of interest, while their boat shot forward, moving much quicker through canals and bayous than it had coming out here. A thought made her glance at him. “But you were really kidding about alligators being around us, right?”
He smiled, slowed the boat and pointed to the water ahead.
A large and a smaller branch floated beside water lilies near shore. Their boat closed in the distance to them. She saw the larger branch sway its tail.
“Oh, my God.” She tucked her feet in close to her body, protecting them from the swimming reptile that might jump in.
Dane’s laugh rippled from behind, assuring her that she needn’t fear.
She leaned toward the thing, blackish-green and about four feet long, its back topped with ridges. “I can see its eyes. They’re black.” She watched closer as their craft passed a few feet from the reptile. She turned around to view the slow sway of its tail as it swam away from them.
When the alligator was no longer in view, a tinge of disappointment made her realize how excited she’d just been. She glanced at Dane. “Are any more of them around?”
“A couple.”
She cast her gaze ahead, searching the water for signs of moving ridged logs, her heart beating faster than normal.“Dane!” She’d yelled to be heard above the motor’s whine as a thought occurred. “Alligators don’t jump, do they?”
His response sounded like a chuckle. “If you clap your hands and call them, one of them might try.”
She whipped her head sideward to frown at him.
He sat smiling, his eyes playful when he glanced at her. He made their boat take a fast turn. “Almost hit a real log that time,” he said, gaze steady on the water ahead, “and that could mess up the motor. We wouldn’t want to get stranded out here. Not many other people are out fishing on this weekday to tow us back in.”
A shiver ran down Erin’s spine as she imagined being stuck in this water, and no telling how many alligators coming out when the day dragged on. She trained her eyes in front of their boat, not wanting to get left out here with just him and the sun steaming down on them. Her stomach made a little gurgle. She sipped more ice-cold water, her gaze not leaving the green-brown water ahead.
“Your main concern out there,” Dane said when they reached the landing and Erin happily stepped back on land, “should’ve been being caught without a fishing license.”
He walked off for this truck and soon backed the trailer into the water. He then used a rope to pull the boat up into place.
“I wish I could be of some help,” Erin said, standing close and holding her cap.
“Have you ever backed up a truck to get a trailer in the water?”
“No. But if I was around them more, I could learn.”
He walked past her, his hand rising. She felt a tingle of surprise when his fingers slid through the top of her hair. “Lots of things you could learn if you stayed around.” He swung up into the truck cab and glanced out at her, standing in place, still taking in the endearing feel from his fingers’ caress of her scalp. “But you don’t want to stay right here. C’mon, let’s get dinner.”
“Mm, food.” She scrambled to the passenger’s side and climbed in. “And I don’t care whether it’s dinner or lunch. What’ll we eat?”
He laughed. Dane slowly pulled the trailer and boat up on level land and then sped ahead. “Our fresh fish would be best, but it’ll take me a while to clean them. Maybe we’ll have them tonight. My stomach’s been fussing awhile, wanting food. How about if we go to T-Fred’s?”
“T-Fred’s sounds great to me.”
They roared through the fields, with him barely slowing for the roads’ turns. She watched the cane pass by and waited for the cottages. Spotting them ahead, she looked for Jason and Joanie, disappointment washing through her when they weren’t outside. That mother and child had given the plantation a true sense of home and family life.
“Y’all must’ve liked it here yesterday `cause you’re back for more,” T-Fred called from behind the bar.
“Yesterday’s meal was wonderful,” Erin said. She noted that only three couples sat at tables, all of them turning their heads to inspect her and Dane. They nodded, and she and Dane gave nods in return. The women leaned close to their partners, whispering and grinning, indicating Dane.
His bright demeanor diminished. He stepped farther away from Erin.
Were those townspeople he knew pairing the two of them? No wonder he appeared to turn cold after the warm friendliness he’d just shown in the truck.
“What’ll it be?” T-Fred lumbered toward them empty handed while they stood just inside the door.
“I’ll have the lunch,” Dane said. “Erin?”
“That’s probably quickest, so ditto.”
“The pork chops are good today, and so are the smothered potatoes.” T-Fred dipped her head toward the wall. “Y’all gonna take your regular table?”
Our regular table? So she was already pairing them up, too. “It really doesn’t matter where we sit,” Erin said. “But first I need the restroom to wash my hands. They smell fishy.”
“I’ll do the same,” Dane told her.
T-Fred’s big green eyes brightened. “Oh, y’all went fishing…”
But just to catch one fish. The words were on Erin’s lips, but if she spoke them, she’d also have to give an explanation. Aunt Tilly’s instructions. Dane had only taken her because he was kind enough to let her try to follow them.
Smile wide, T-Fred bounced away.
Dane shoved into the men’s room, and Erin went into the one for ladies. She soaped her hands until the stale fish odor left them. A glance at the mirror made her cringe. A deep crease circled the front of her hair from the band of the cap, and the rest of her brown hair flared out, windblown. No wonder everyone in the restaurant had reacted so strangely. They were probably surprised that Dane would accompany such a disheveled woman.
Using her fingers, she separated the hair near her forehead. She gave her head a shake and pressed down all the rest of her hair as best she could. Well, she decided, heading out, T-Fred’s patrons wouldn’t need to speculate any longer. This was the last time they were ever going to see her out with him.
That thought made a sensation of sadn
ess to wash over her, especially when she spied Dane seated at the table, the same table they’d shared only a day ago. He peered at the tablecloth as though deep in thought. His black hair was pressed down a little on top from the cap he’d worn, the sides of his hair slightly tousled, giving him the look of a boy who’d just come in from playing.
She smiled at his image. He noticed her coming, shoved his chair back, and stood.
“No more fishy smell?” He held her chair out.
“All gone from my hands.” She sat, and he pushed in her chair. She glanced down at her shirt, noting a small smear. “But I think I held some of what I caught too close to my clothes. I doubt if the smell will ever come out of them.”
Dane gave her a slight smile, resuming his place. “All of those other New Yorkers might think you have a new perfume and want to know where to get it.”
“Maybe so. We are on the cutting edge, you know.”
He nodded, his expression serious. “I know.”
“Two dailies, coming right up,” T-Fred said, carrying plates. She set them down in front of them, giving Erin a wink. “Hope you enjoy it, honey.”
Dane did not meet T-Fred’s gaze when she glanced at him. Left alone after they thanked her, they began to eat. Dane did not appear to want to talk. He seemed weary, possibly from introspection.
“Mm, scrumptious,” Erin said, swallowing her first bites of the well-seasoned potatoes and the tender pork.
He glanced up from his plate. “You said that yesterday.”
“Maybe y’all—or is that `all y’all’—have the best food I’ve ever tasted.”
Her comment garnered a grin from him. Dane set down his fork. “Or maybe we just wait until everybody’s starving before we feed them.”
“It could be that.” She ate more of the potatoes. “Oh no, it’s the cooking. How do cooks get their dishes so tasty?”
“Our secret.” He winked. “We don’t share it with outsiders. A person has to stay in our kitchens and watch our clandestine operations.”
Erin snickered. “Clandestine,” she repeated, although Dane’s bit of conversation ceased. He resumed eating, hungrily and without glancing at her, making Erin wonder if he was actually embarrassed to be seen with her.