by Melissa Beck
She nodded. “On the farm, before the fireworks."
He gazed into her eyes. “Will you ride with me?"
"Sure."
When he turned back to Martha, she was eying them keenly. “I'll be on my way. I'll see you at Eula's."
"Okay.” Daniel turned his attention to Gretchen, taking up her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles.
Her eyes half closed. “Don't do that.” Her husky tone contradicted her words. “People will talk."
"Let them,” he said, his voice strained. “Let them know I want you."
She pulled her hand away.
He chuckled low. “You're so proper. Except when we're in bed."
"Hush!” Her eyes shone with merriment as she kicked the side of his shoe.
He took her hand again, and they walked across the street. “Just wait ‘til I get you in the hay."
"It'll be filled with people!"
"We'll be in the dark. They'll never know.” His body hummed with need at the thought of riding beside her, bumping against her, holding her close and breathing in the scent of her under the cover of night.
She looked up at him then, and something in her expression should have made him drop her hand and ignore her. He'd seen it before in the eyes of women he'd never dated again. He knew what it meant. It meant if he didn't get out right then, he'd be hooked into settling down. It was a look he'd run from for years.
Instead of running, he bent and brushed a kiss across her lips.
She pulled back. “Daniel."
He followed her gaze, saw a group of festival-goers passing by, and shrugged. “I can't help it."
She moved away, and approached Wally and Crystal from the left side of the booth while he walked up to the front.
"Hi, guys.” Wally tipped a goofy top hat. “Just sold out the first tour."
"Great!” Snagging the list of names and addresses from the booth's desk, Daniel skimmed them. “Nice assortment of future customers."
Gretchen admired Crystal's costume, and helped her straighten out the parasol's frets. “Are you going to take them through the museum first, and then the caves?"
"That's the idea. He'll do the museum, and then we'll ride them out to the caves and I'll be their guide for that part."
"I'm tending the booth during the tours.” Daniel sent Gretchen a disappointed look. “I guess you and Amy will have to do the rides before I get finished. But I'll catch up with you later. Save me the cake deal."
She smiled. “We will."
By four o'clock, Daniel, Wally and Crystal had sold out six tours and had shown hundreds of folks the casket museum and caves. Gushing reviews from returning tour parties encouraged them. Word spread, and everyone clamored to see their peculiar sites. Daniel handed out several fifty-count packets of brochures on the tour, which included an insert on the casket company with a fifty-dollar off coupon.
"This should bring you business,” he said to a weary-eyed, limping Wally when he showed up after the last tour.
He brightened. “If it works, I might hire you again."
"Wally was great!” Crystal gushed. “He came up to the caves after a while, and ran around and scared the beejeebers out of a few people."
"Wow, Wally.” Gretchen laughed as she strolled up to the booth with Amy. “I had no idea you had the acting gene in you."
"Yeah, well, he was trying to impress Crystal.” Daniel rubbed Gretchen's back in greeting. “How's the festival?"
"Lonely without you there. Ready to go?"
Wally invited them to go in the bus since the tour was over. So they piled in. As they pulled onto the highway, Daniel glanced toward Gretchen's shop as a crowd of people came out onto the sidewalk. He thought he saw a couple of the women he'd met in Cincinnati the other night, but decided they probably just looked like them. He doubted he'd even be able to recognize them since he'd known them such a short time.
The farm, when they got there, bulged near to overflowing with people. Cars were parked everywhere, but Officer Junior Nantz kept creating more spaces and flailing his arms to guide vehicles into them.
They parked and walked to the field, where they found pony rides, a moonwalk, the carnival rides and games, a dance band near the gazebo, and the musical chairs cakewalk.
Amy jumped up and down when she saw the sign for the cakewalk. “There it is! Ready?"
He smiled at Gretchen. “I think I've got a tough competitor. How about you, Mommy? Are you going to do it?"
"No. But I want to preserve the moment.” She pulled a disposable camera out of her purse.
"C'mon, Daniel!” Amy urged.
In her excitement to get there, she stumbled, but he managed to tug gently enough on her arm to keep her on her feet and avoiding scraped knees. She was so light, so little. And his. His little girl.
He caught Gretchen looking at them and smiling. She seemed so happy. He wanted it to always be this way for them. He wished he could tell her with a glance what this time meant to him.
They arrived at the cake “sit,” turned in their tickets and stood in line. When they were allowed to find a chair to stand by, he let Amy choose. “There! You stand there,” she ordered, which was right beside her chair.
Gretchen called, “Daniel! Amy!” and when they looked her way, snapped a few photos. Then she smiled and waved.
Daniel stared at her. He took his own photo in his mind, snapping a mental shot of her, hair shimmering against her shoulders, eyes filled with childlike merriment, small, rounded breasts, slim hips, flat abdomen. When his gaze returned to her face after that leisurely assessment, she'd pursed her lips. “Concentrate!” she mouthed.
He grinned. “You want a cake, do you?"
With her free hand, she playfully indicated she'd like one to shove in his face.
The music began. Amy started for his chair, so he had to move to the next one. He kept looking around to make sure Amy made it to a chair. She would sometimes stop and look a little unsure. When the music ended, she was between chairs, so he reached out and tugged her into the one behind him.
They were safe, and she clapped her hands together.
"Good job!” he said.
They started up again. This time, several people including Amy were called out. The bully from her class grabbed her chair out from under her and shoved her out of the way, making a face at her as she was eliminated. Daniel glared at him, and the kid looked down at his shoes. Daniel was satisfied he'd let him know he was looking out for Amy.
It came down to Daniel and the bully. They went around the last chair a few times, the music stopped, and Daniel plopped into the chair.
The kid cursed.
Daniel shook his hand, anyway. “Good job. And if you say that word again before you're in high school, I'll tell your parents."
The boy glowered at him before he ran away.
Amy ran to Daniel and hugged his knees. “You won!” That was all he needed to feel like the winner. He didn't even need the cake.
Amy pointed at a two-layer one at the goody table. “Pick that one."
"What kind is it?"
"Pink.” She looked at him as if he were king of all sillies.
Gretchen laughed. “Daniel, you're so slow."
He squeezed her arm. “Some people like that about me."
She blushed.
He pulled her to his side and wrapped his arm around her waist. She felt so good. She smelled good. He kissed her hair and smoothed it back from her face.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. He caught people watching them, and a lump formed in his throat. They wouldn't see him with her tomorrow. By this time tomorrow, he'd be in Chicago.
They ate barbeque dinners sold by the Jaycees, sitting on the lawn atop a quilt Gretchen had brought over earlier. Amy didn't eat much. She was too eager to hurry off with BJ and jump around on the moonwalk. Crystal and Wally followed them, holding hands.
"Look at them,” Gretchen said, smiling. “I can't believe it took them
so long to find each other.” Her gaze met Daniel's. “Crystal gives you all the credit."
"I just encouraged Wally to overcome his shyness and talk to her.” He watched as they entered a large group of locals. Wally pointed at the caves and waved his hands as he talked. “Huh. Now I can't shut him up. I think I've created a monster."
"No. You've brought out the best in some of us. You haven't just helped Wally with his business. You're his friend. And you've been so great with Amy.” She looked down at her plate, then back up at him. “And me."
He leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. She pulled back. He knew she would, because she had this private side that shied away from public displays of affection. That was okay with him, since he knew she was anything but inhibited in private. Remembering her passion excited him and made him want to kiss her in public, so they were at an impasse. He settled for leaning on his elbow beside her while she sat up against the big old maple, wrapped in a plaid wool throw.
"Do you think Amy's cold?” she asked, watching the children thread their way in and out of the crowd as they went from game to game.
"I doubt it. She's moving around a lot."
She looked at him. “She's going to miss you."
He frowned. “I didn't want that. That's not why I came here."
"I know.” She looked down, plucked at the fringe on the throw. “It's okay. We're used to consoling each other."
It was hard enough thinking about leaving Amy. Leaving them both ... he couldn't even consider it right now.
He glanced up in the tree, where kids looked down on them and giggled.
He liked these trees. They grew in the ground here, instead of out of concrete in the sidewalk, like in Chicago.
He looked at Gretchen. She had her eyes closed. Her lashes brushed dark strokes onto her pale skin. Her lips were dark and full and in need of kissing. Her breasts rose as she breathed.
"Quit.” Her lips moved, but nothing else.
"What?"
"Watching me."
He tickled her with a blade of grass, running it along her collarbone and the line of her chin. “Sorry. I can't help myself."
Her lashes came up, and he stared into her eyes. Their color was a promise of deep, wicked nights, their sparkle something to look forward to in the chilling months of winter to come.
He found himself saying, again, “What if I stayed?"
"We'd be together,” she said, simply. “We'd make love again."
Her honesty was so sweet, he wanted to crush her to him and make a very public display, right there. The kids had climbed down from the tree and missed kicking him in the head by a hair's breadth. They'd scampered off. Now maybe no one would see Gretchen and him.
"We'd make love,” Gretchen repeated, “and then you'd grow tired of me."
That cut him deeply. He worked the muscle in his jaw. “I didn't do that last time. It's just what you chose to believe because you weren't sure of us."
She looked hard at him. “I really want to believe in us now."
"Then do."
She touched his arm, stroking the hairs there, running her fingers down to his and tracing them. He let her. He wanted to do so many other things, but he sat there, his body like a set trap, ready to pounce but controlled by the crowds around them.
"You don't know me, really,” she said. “We have things in common, yes, but do you know what I want?"
He turned to see her. “Tell me."
She breathed in, and sighed.
He waited, watching her, seeing the concern lining her forehead.
She looked down at the blade of grass she'd taken from him. “It's stupid. Amy and I can take care of ourselves. But sometimes it gets lonely."
He squeezed her fingers. “I hear you."
She looked at him sharply. “You never get lonely! You're always with people."
"I'm with strangers. It's not like here. Here, you don't know a stranger."
"That's true, in a way.” She looked around at the crowds. “Other than now, at festival time, everyone knows everyone. But that doesn't mean we're always happy about it. It's not all perfect here, the way you may think it is. We have crime and death and divorce and bankruptcy."
What was she saying? That he'd simply been vacationing? He thought about his busy days in Chicago, and his endless nights. He remembered Sam warning him to consider the time here as vacation time, a nice visit with his daughter, but nothing permanent. But he sensed that even Sam, who doubted he'd never lose his fear of attachment, and who wanted him back at the helm of the agency and their deals, had hoped he'd find more here.
Had he found a vacation spot and a fling? Or home and a family?
"If you stayed,” she said. “What would you do? How long before you'd go nuts with boredom?” She pointed into the crowd. “How many of these people do you think need advertising?"
"I know one who does. Your landlord. He needs a better way to market the other side of your duplex."
"That's right,” she said, her eyes dancing. “He needs to find a man for me who can move right in on that side. Then we could buy the place and tear out the separating walls and have one big house."
Daniel scowled at the thought of another man being there for Gretchen. Another man pushing Amy's swing or helping her with her garden.
Another man sharing Gretchen's bed.
He'd had enough of the conversation. They weren't getting anywhere. He wanted to stay, but he couldn't. It was pretty clear she wanted a man around. But she wouldn't come out and say she wanted him.
His insides ached. He rose, stretched his arms over his head and looked at the sun setting over the hills. Turning back, he held out a hand to help her up. “They're starting the tractor up for the hayride. Want to make our way over there?"
"Sure.” She took his hand. “Give it another half-hour and it'll be dark."
When they'd thrown away their paper plates and folded up the blanket, they went to find Amy. A smiley face had been painted on her cheek, and she toted a bag full of plastic toys and candies she'd won at the kiddy booths. She begged to stay with BJ, and Crystal said she'd take them to the dance pavilion for kid “Hokey Pokey” and “Bunny Hop” time once they finished the potato sack race.
Gretchen and Daniel headed on to the pavilion because he owed Eula a dance. When she'd suffered her stroke, he'd promised her a dance and he intended to make good on that vow.
Afterward, Gretchen and Daniel headed for the hayrides. He helped her climb up on one of the first flatbeds, whose tractor was driven by Elmer Martin, the man who owned the farm across from Gretchen's house. He tipped his wool cap at Gretchen and they talked about his winter squash and root vegetables while the trailer loaded up with tourists and townspeople. Then Elmer started across the front yard and up toward the caves.
The tourist sitting on the bale of hay across form Gretchen and Daniel bubbled over about her tour of the caves. She had an MCC brochure sticking out of her purse, and when Daniel mentioned it, she said she was taking it home to a friend whose father was the funeral director of one of the bigger funeral homes in town. She wanted to tell him that Marydale made fine caskets out of local wood.
Daniel and Gretchen exchanged looks. Here was proof that Daniel's plan hadn't just provided more of the day's entertainment. Wally had garnered publicity that could lead to increased sales.
Daniel put his arm around Gretchen, and she snuggled in to him as the tractor chugged along. “Know anyone on here?” he said, low.
She shook her head.
"Good.” He squeezed her. “We can be as naughty as we want and they'll never see us again.” He moved his hand up her side, roaming close to her breast.
She squirmed, trying to get away, which only brought her closer.
His chuckle rumbled in his throat. “Now that's more like it."
It was dark now. Stars twinkled in the sky above them. The other people on the ride were shadows, mostly, bumping along over ruts in the field, moving in rhythm with
them.
Gretchen closed her eyes and let herself sway into Daniel, let his body take the shock from hers when they landed in a deep tractor groove. He didn't complain. In fact, each chance he got, he would push her hair out of her face, curve her body more closely to his, or kiss her head.
For a time, she'd forget he was the city playboy, going back to his life tomorrow. She was the country girl rooted in this town, invested in raising their daughter here.
She remembered their lovemaking. She longed to be with him again, and yet, she knew last night had been goodbye. So she clung to him this final time, burying her face in his neck and inhaling his warm scent. She rocked against him, loving his hard chest, and the muscles in his arms as he held her.
Memories would have to be enough.
He bent then and brushed his lips across hers. But she didn't want him to leave her. Her soul cried out to him. Her lips parted beneath his. But he drew back this time. “Later, sweetheart."
And the hayride went on and on and on. A lovely ride. A hateful trip. Deliriously contented one moment and in excruciating pain the next, she waited. Waited for it to stop.
Waited for Daniel to leave tomorrow.
All these years, she'd waited for him.
He had come.
And he was leaving.
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Chapter Sixteen
They got home at ten o'clock. Daniel carried Amy inside. Draped over his broad shoulder that way, Gretchen thought she looked like a limp doll. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up while Gretchen watched, yawning.
Hands on his hips, Daniel stood at the side of the canopied bed that had once been Gretchen's. A tender look softened his face as he studied his sleeping daughter. He reached down, brushed her hair off her face. “Good night, angel,” he murmured.
Amy turned, as if to curl her little body more surely into the covers and breathed an exhausted sigh. “Good night, Daddy,” she said, her eyes barely open.
Gretchen watched as Daniel's hand that had been stroking her forehead paused. Standing in the doorway, she couldn't see his face. Still, she thought his fingers trembled slightly before he finally straightened from his bent position.