Love like water, p.7
Love Like Water, page 7
She’s going to be an excellent tour host, thank goodness.
They headed northeast out of town, the last of the small lots with their clapboard Cape Cods giving way to the North Shore flora of cedar, sumac, and birch. He slowed down to let a group of bikers cross the road in front of him as they made their way to the paved bike path running parallel to the highway. The group split, the faster riders bursting ahead of the slower ones once they hit the path. As the last of the riders rode over the highway and onto the gravel, Sean took his foot off the brake, still keeping an eye on the group. Their neon shirts bobbed together as he neared them on his right. They rode so close together, Sean marveled at how they didn’t collide.
Darcy continued. “Coming up on the left, if you see the bright red former schoolhouse and wonder why there is a metal sculpture of a beaver on its roof, well, I’m here to enlighten you.”
The group’s muffled snickers filled the bus, but they quickly turned to gasps as Sean braked in a hurry. He sensed Darcy gripping the seats on either side of the aisle to keep from pitching to the floor.
“What on earth—” she said as Sean pulled onto the shoulder.
He threw the bus into park and bolted from the driver’s seat, lunging down the steps two at a time. The bikers circled back to one of their own. A woman was crumpled on the ground, clutching her leg as Sean jogged up to the group.
“Where do you hurt?” Sean asked as he knelt beside her.
The other bikers stood over them except for a teenaged boy. Next to Sean, he knelt beside her.
“Mom? Are you okay? Your leg doesn’t look so great,” he said. His voice wavered as he got out his cell phone.
The woman’s leggings were torn from her calf up to mid-thigh. A nasty abrasion left her shin and knee bloodied and covered with dirt and gravel dust.
“I’m fine, honey. Darn it,” the woman said, sitting up to examine her leg more closely. She undid the clip on her helmet and tossed it aside. “I don’t think anything is broken.” She checked her arms for injuries, and Sean saw more scrapes on her forearm and both palms. After a quick glance around at her fellow bikers, she shook her head. “Sorry to start the morning out like this, guys.”
Sean caught her arm when she tried to stand. She didn’t appear to be disoriented, but he wondered if she might have other injuries. “Are you sure you’re ready to get up? That was quite a wipeout.”
Wobbly even as she clung to him, the woman sat back down. “Maybe not.” She leaned against him, breathing hard.
Sean supported her back. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her water bottle, and one of the other bikers scrambled to unhook it from her bike. Sean unscrewed its cap and offered her the water. “Here, take a drink. Let’s try again in a few minutes.”
While the other bikers fussed over her, Sean updated his tour guests inside the bus. They’d be back on the road in no time, he assured them. Despite his Good Samaritan efforts, he’d be shocked if he didn’t get a handful of refund requests because of this. This little distraction cut into the time they had paid for, and he couldn’t blame them if they weren’t happy with the tour experience at the end of the day.
“Thank you for stopping,” the woman said to Sean when he came back, wincing as she slowly tested putting weight on her injured leg. She limped as Sean supported her, but within a few minutes she was inspecting her bike, determined to double back into town and treat her cuts.
“Not a problem. But you definitely shouldn’t ride,” he said, thumbing toward the bus. “I have room for you.”
The look of relief on her face was unmistakable when she saw the bus. “I think I’ll take you up on that. As much as I like to think I’m invincible, I’m afraid my bike got the best of me today.”
Her son said he’d wheel her bike back with his own and meet her at their motel. Sean let the woman hang onto his arm as he walked her over to the bus. Darcy stood in the doorway, holding out her arms to help.
“Sit with me while we take you back to town,” Darcy offered. She helped the woman to the first seat as Sean got back into the driver’s seat. “I’m so glad you’re able to walk. That was a nasty fall,” she said.
Sean started up the bus and made a U-turn on the highway when the coast was clear. He wiped his neck with a bandana and tucked it back into his hip pocket while he listened to Darcy and the woman.
“Thanks so much for stopping, especially with a bus full of people,” the woman said.
“Honestly, it looked more serious than it turned out, but he’d stop to catch a loose dog. He’s like that.”
The woman laughed. “Nice guy.”
“Yes, he is. I’m Darcy, by the way.”
“Hannah.”
They talked until Sean pulled into the Flint Hills Motel and parked in front of her room. She thanked Darcy and Sean, and even apologized to the tour guests for interrupting their afternoon, before he helped her to the door.
As he boarded the bus again, Darcy moved to the seat directly behind his again. His pulse fired up. He caught her eye in the overhead mirror, and her words echoed in his consciousness again, about being helpful. It was a curious thing to say, especially since they hadn’t started out on the friendliest terms, and he might even make a liar out of her during the days to come. Yet her words kept playing on repeat in his head.
* * *
Considering that helping bike crash victims wasn’t a part of the day’s itinerary, Darcy was relieved when they were back on the road in record time after dropping off Hannah at her motel. The tour guests didn’t seem upset by the sidetrack in their schedule. In fact, Darcy would bet that their end-of-tour evaluations would reflect the praise she overheard from the rear of the bus while Sean helped Hannah to the door of her room.
“—didn’t have to stop—”
“—he went above and beyond, didn’t he?”
“—worth crashing for that kind of treatment.”
“⏤a real small-town hottie.”
Darcy apologized to the group for the delay, and since she’d already run through the dialogue for that part of the trip, she collapsed in the front seat and let the women talk amongst themselves while they waited on Sean.
Of course she couldn’t help wanting to comment as he parked himself back in the driver’s seat. He rubbed his neck like a knot of tension had settled there, and she stopped herself before a sarcastic comment hovering on the tip of her tongue emerged.
“Impressive work, Superman.” There. That was more sincere than snide.
Darcy looked at him in the overhead mirror. Except for a slight narrowing of his eyes and a quick glance at her reflection as he steered the bus back onto Highway 61, there was no reaction. Maybe he couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or making fun of him. Darcy pressed her hand to her neck, trying to stop the heat from overcoming her face. Had her tone been off? But I wasn’t being glib. Really. Not this time.
Minutes passed. With each second ticking away, her embarrassment grew. What upset her more⏤that he ignored her or that she couldn’t help but make flippant comments even when she tried to compliment? Why couldn’t she learn to filter herself?
“Thanks,” he said finally.
Darcy thought she was hearing things until she looked up at the mirror. His eyes darted to hers, and he lifted his eyebrows. When she didn’t say anything, he shook his head slightly.
“What, you think I can’t take a compliment?” he said over his shoulder.
“No, that’s not it at all.” Her mind raced. What was it, then?
He kept his eyes on the road but asked in a low voice, “How would you know how nice I am anyway? We’ve met once.”
The playfulness in his tone caught her attention. She looked again at him in the overhead mirror. Sure enough, the creases near his eyes were more pronounced than usual.
“Twice actually. And truthfully? I have no clue. But today you seem nice. I mean, you did stop for her.”
“I saw that crash coming. They were riding too close together.”
“Do you bike?”
He shrugged. “Once in a while. I mostly hike and fish. You?”
“I love hiking. The trails here are fantastic. Rollie and I go most days after work.”
“Rollie?”
“My dog.”
“Which one is your favorite?” asked Sean as he turned into a gravel lot and parked.
“The Powder Rock Trail. It’s closest to where I live.” She shrugged on her jacket.
Sean pulled the lever to open the door. He turned sideways in his seat to look at Darcy. “So you probably live in the Mill Street Lofts?”
“Yes, for about a year now.”
“Nice building. My brother renovated it.”
“What’s yours?”
He glanced at her. “My what?”
“Your favorite trail. Where do you like to go?”
“Oh. Definitely the Sage River Trail. Brandy likes that it runs right alongside the river.”
“Brandy?”
“My retriever.”
Darcy smiled. “I love big dogs. I have a corgi-shepherd mix right now, but my family has always owned big breeds. A Saint Bernard named Winston, an Irish wolfhound—Chief—super smart—”
Sean cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but are you going to give the abbreviated version of the lighthouse spiel once we’re outside or while they’re still on the bus?”
Darcy looked out the window and saw the Clearwater Lighthouse right in front of her. She should have been talking about it well before they pulled into the parking lot. She threw her hands up. “Shoot!”
In front of her, Sean’s wide shoulders shook with laughter. “Not a big deal. They have no idea that you’re off cue,” he whispered.
Wait—what? Off cue? She stiffened.
Sean touched her arm as she turned to address the group. “Wait a sec.”
Darcy drummed her fingers against the binder. “I’m already behind.”
He took his hat off. “You’re fine. I shouldn’t have criticized you. I’m sorry.”
His expression was so serious that a sarcastic quip didn’t even come to mind. “It’s all right.”
He looked past her to the group, then lowered his voice. “And, by the way, what you said to that Hannah woman was true.”
She wracked her brain, wondering what he was talking about.
“You told her that I would have stopped the bus to catch a loose dog.” He paused, watching her face. “You were right. I would do that.”
Darcy laughed. “I could just tell that about you.” She pulled the tour manual tight against her chest and looked away, embarrassed.
Who was she kidding? She didn’t know a thing about Sean Stetman other than he owned a tour company, fished every weekend, and was supposedly brokenhearted. Standing so near to him also strummed at her nerves—no doubt about that one at all—and it was maddening.
Chapter Eight
Sean passed the old foundry building off High Street after leaving work two days later with Brandy in the passenger seat. He brought her to the office on occasion when he didn’t want to leave her alone for the day. She was an ideal lobby dog: calm, friendly, and quiet. Even Emily, a stickler for a tidy, well-run office, loved having her there, and she kept a stash of dog treats on top of the file cabinet.
He ran his fingers through his hair and the rooster’s comb effect that he caught sight of in the mirror wasn’t flattering, not that he cared. Still, he smoothed it down before noticing Matt’s black truck sitting in the construction lot beyond the temporary orange fence that had been erected around the site. Several guys made their way out of the old factory, trudging over the newly churned dirt, lunch coolers in hand, swinging them into the beds of their own trucks. Sean spotted Matt as soon as his younger brother emerged from the building. He pulled to the side of the street and honked. Matt looked up and waved, then lumbered over.
Matt Stetman was a shorter, lighter version of his older brother. Much to Emily Stetman’s dismay, Matt was also less focused, more impulsive, and too much of a spendthrift with what money he earned. That is, when he worked long enough to earn a steady income. What he lacked in common sense and work ethic, though, Matt made up for with charisma. He was also a master carpenter, a talent he only halfheartedly put to use, even though he could have been booked year-round if he had the gumption. Sean envied his brother’s seemingly natural talent. Matt could frame a small building in half the time as him, even on a slow day.
“Hey, bro. Long time, no talk,” Matt said as Sean rolled down his window. He reached across Sean to ruffle the fur on Brandy’s neck when the dog tried clamoring over Sean’s lap.
Sean looked over Matt’s shoulder toward the building then back at his brother. “I guess you’ve been too busy here to talk. It’s not because I haven’t tried.”
Matt scratched his cheek. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m not the best at returning calls.”
“No kidding. I’ve been leaving messages for what, five days?”
His brother opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think it a better idea if he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his lips together.
“Could it have anything to do with reneging on our agreement to drive for me? I was counting on you.”
Matt winced. “I’m really sorry. It was a jerk move.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the foundry. “But when I got the call for this, I couldn’t say no. This building⏤”
Sean put up his hand. “I know, I know. It’s exactly what you’ve been wanting to work on. I just…needed this.”
“No offense, but you’ve been stewing for months. I’m no psychiatrist, but a bunch of alone time is exactly NOT what you need right now, in my uneducated opinion.” He shrugged. “You’re turning into a hermit.”
“Funny.” Sean settled back in his seat. If his intention was to make Matt feel guilty for not covering for him when he needed a break, it failed miserably. His brother refused to see he was blameworthy.
Matt patted the side of his truck. “On the bright side, it sounds like Mom hired a worthy replacement. Word on the street is the new tour guide is a keeper.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Too soon to judge. She just started this week.”
“Sean, wake up. It’s Darcy Conti. Don’t pretend you don’t know her. Every single guy in town knew who she was when she moved here last year.”
“Sorry. Not everyone, apparently. I must have missed the news bulletin.” He did know who Darcy Conti was, in fact, but he wasn’t about to say so. He’d never formally met her, so it wasn’t a complete lie.
Matt threw back his head to laugh. “Only you would fail to see the opportunity here.”
“How is hiring a new guide an opportunity?”
“Get a clue, bro.”
“She’s our employee, Matt. I’m not interested.”
Matt tapped a finger against his temple. “She’s practically a genius, I hear. Did you know she went to SEMMI for deck officer training after she got out of the Coast Guard?”
“No, I did not,” he said, though it surprised him. He hadn’t seen her resume before Emily hired her. The SEMMI program was prestigious. He was impressed.
“Of course you didn’t.” He held up three more fingers, ticking off her other qualities. “Outdoorsy, pretty, single. And she can probably kick your butt.”
“How do you know so much about her?”
“I just told you. She’s not dating anyone. In a town this size, every available guy is going to know all the details.” Matt gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “You’re single, too, by the way.”
“I’m aware of my relationship status, thanks. Still not interested.”
Matt shook his head. “You are hopeless.” He tapped the truck again. “Look, I gotta go. Beers tomorrow? Maybe?”
“Maybe. I’ve got things to do.”
“Right.” Matt gave him a long look. “The offer stands if you find yourself free any time soon. Call if you want. I promise I’ll return it this time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
After he’d pulled back onto High Street, he drove up to the highway and stopped. A steady line of vehicles came from both directions on the single-lane highway, Hendricks’s version of rush hour. He waited for a break and turned right toward home. He switched on the radio and flipped through a dozen stations before shutting it off, preferring the quiet instead. A half-mile ahead, a brown sign alerted him to the pull-off for the picnic area on the north side of the highway, a popular place for tourists passing through town. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d stopped. Years, maybe.
The small lot was empty, save for a blue Honda with an orange tow notice on the windshield. He pulled next to it and shut off the engine. Straight ahead, the trail sign, nailed to a tilted post, pointed into the deepening shadows of the trees. He opened the door and Brandy bounded over his lap and out of the truck, ready for exercise.
“Okay, I get the hint,” he said as he bent down to grab her leash. He led her over to the small pavilion next to the sign, and he studied the map covered in plexiglass of the two-mile loop of the Powder River Trail while his thoughts swirled.
Maybe he needed to take more walks or meet Matt for beers more often. Or he could dive back into work and forget about brooding his life away. He’d wanted to develop a new tour stop or two anyway. Truthfully, the endless wallowing exhausted him. Sean just didn’t know how to emerge from the funk he’d sunk into during the last few months.
Brandy pulled ahead, following the dirt path, nose to the ground. Sean stumbled along behind her, lost in thought, letting the rustle of leaves lull him with their whisperings. The path meandered up an easy but steady incline, and before long there was the sound of rushing water. Closer still was the distinctive padding of footfalls on the trail ahead. Then a bark.
When Sean looked up, Darcy was already standing still, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened in surprise. Her dog tugged on the leash, straining to reach Brandy, who also wanted an introduction.
“Sean. Hi.”
He really hadn’t thought he’d see her. It was a crazy impulse to hike there, and after talking about their favorite trails just days ago, he wondered if she thought he was trying to run into her on purpose. Admittedly, that was what it looked like.
