Coming Up Daffy Page 8

  Finally, when dirty clumps of bulbs filled the bucket, she proclaimed the job done. “I have enough tiger lilies to line my friend’s back fence. That should do it. If I need more, I’ll just come back out.” She wiped her muddy hands on her jeans and gave him a wry grin. “I forgot to bring my gardening gloves.”

  He nodded. “Are we moving on to the daffodils now?” Even streaked with mud and half-soaked, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “In a sec.” Her grin slid into something soft and sexy. It dazzled him. Not until that moment did he understand what the word befuddled meant. “Come over here for a minute.” She gestured with her head. “I always like looking at the creek before I head out. It’s peaceful, and now, I can to share the scene with you, though it’s hardly peaceful today — more like an angry old man trying on pants.”

  “Sounds good.” What a dumb thing to say. His chest warmed. She wanted to include him in things that meant something to her? That was a good sign. He followed her to the edge of the property. The ground was steeper there with the rain-swollen creek mere inches away. The current lapped at the bank, rushing with more force than normal due to the elevated water. “Don’t goof around over here, all right?”

  “I’m not, silly.” She hopped onto a partially exposed boulder, covered with mud and moss.

  “Please be careful.” He set the buckets on the ground.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve been out here tons of times.” The beat of the rain muffled her tinkling laughter. “For once I’m at eye level with you.” With a forefinger she beckoned him closer, her eyes alight with playful mischief and something stronger. “So, Mr. Kincaide, do you wanna try kissing me now?”

  The playful mystery vibe she put out was like an invisible fishing line and he’d been completely hooked. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He sidled closer. Just as he reached out to embrace her, the boulder she stood on shifted. With a loud sucking sound, the ground gave way. Big chunks of brown earth crumbled around the boulder. As if in slow motion, Alice lost her balance. Her arms windmilled. A fearful expression lined her face and then she tumbled down the bank. She hit the water with a surprised squeal. She floundered, grabbing at exposed tree roots, branches or anything nearby, but the current plucked at her body as if she were a child’s doll. Before Mark’s horrified gaze, the creek pulled her away from the bank and yanked her beneath the churning, muddy water.

  “Alice!” Time accelerated and left him standing in a haze of disbelief. Mark’s gut clenched. He darted down the property line, running parallel with the creek. “Alice, can you hear me?” With his heart in his throat, he frantically scanned the water hoping to see a glimpse of her red raincoat. “Alice!”

  I can’t lose her. Not like this.

  He vaulted a clump of weeds. Mud pulled at his boots, but he continued on with determination, his gaze glued to the creek. He prayed like a mad man that she’d surface. Never in his life had he been as scared as he was now. His insides were cold and shaking, his mouth dry. Finally, he caught a glimpse of her bright red coat. Her head bobbed above the water line, so close the whites of her eyes were visible. No longer did her blonde hair gleam like gold.

  “Mark! Help me!”

  The terror-filled cry spurred him into action. He scrambled down the bank. The water sloshed over his boots. “I’m coming.” With his heart pounding hard in his temples and his stomach full of knots, Mark dove into the angry current.

  Cold water broke over his body, seeping into his clothes, tearing at him with chilly fingers, but he pushed toward the surface. Once he broke it, he swam in a diagonal line toward the spot where he’d last seen her. “Alice!” He spat murky water, blinking to help clear it from his eyes.

  “Mark!” She wasn’t far ahead of him, clinging to a dead tree protruding from the bank.

  He trained his gaze on the red jacket and put every ounce of energy he had into swimming to her. The current worked against him, the cold sapped his strength, but the urge to save Alice was more powerful than both combined. Slowly, the distance between them closed. “I’m almost there.” Two strokes brought him to her location. He grabbed onto the tree with one hand and wrapped his other arm around Alice’s waist. “I’ve got you.”

  “Don’t let go.” Her teeth chattered as she clung to him while her shivers transferred to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a strong grip. “Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Not now, not ever. He pressed a kiss to her wet temple. “We need to get out of the water.” He gauged the distance between the tree and both banks of Grady Creek. “I think we’ll be okay, just bear with me and hang on.” The property where they’d gone into the water wasn’t that far away. A few yards ahead, it looked like there was a stretch of shallows that would allow them to climb the banks and regain high ground. His body ached from exertion, his limbs as weak as rubber bands, and his lungs burned, but the need to make sure Alice was okay burned stronger than his fatigue. “Here we go.”

  He pushed off from the tree and swam with awkward one-arm strokes diagonally through the current. When his shin bumped what would have been the natural creek bank had the waterway not been flooded, he whipped Alice around, hoping he’d have the strength to tread water. “Climb up until you’re out of the current.” With a mighty shove, he pushed her toward the shallow and then scrambled behind her. His muscles protested each movement.

  The water came to his knees and Alice’s waist, but he urged her onward and scrambled behind. Once out of the angry creek, he pulled her up the mud-slick bank until they both reached higher ground. Then he sank to his knees in the soggy ground, his chest heaving, his heart racing. His mouth tasted like grime. Grit covered his tongue and teeth, but he and Alice were safe.

  As he spat out the worst of the muck, he glanced at the woman he’d risked life and limb for, his heart squeezed. I saved her. He’d gotten what he’d wished for. He’d had the opportunity to play the hero.

  Alice sucked in lungfuls of oxygen. She collapsed on the ground next to him. “I’m so sorry, Mark, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

  Chapter Eight

  “What do you mean?” Mark tucked a soggy lock of hair behind her ear in order to see her face. Tears mingled with the rain and dirt, but there was no mistake. She wasn’t crying from her ordeal. The emotion racking her shoulders came from a much deeper place than a reaction from her dunk in the creek. “Alice, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m a complete and utter failure in romance and just plain living like a normal person.” She scrubbed a hand over a cheek, which wiped a streak of mud over her skin. “I’m better off sticking to plants. They either grow or they don’t. They don’t make me feel confused and excited and nervous at the same time.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No matter what I do, you won’t make a move.” She threw a hand into the air. “What, do I have cooties?”

  “No, I…” His stomach tightened. With the mood she was in, there was no way she’d understand his reticence or his lack of bedroom experience. Should I tell her about that now? “Isn’t it enough I’ve gotten this far? I’m trying to be polite and take it slow. I thought we’d both agreed on that.” He might not know a lot about how women worked, but he knew enough to recognize a break-up speech when it came around.

  “Don’t you see?” She raised her watery blue gaze to his. “I’m the problem. I’m the relationship killer. I’m the one who can’t do anything right, who has to be drama and conflict all the time. I’m the one who can’t go the distance with a guy without wanting to go too fast.”

  What did she mean by that? Was it another one of her daffy tangents? Not knowing what else to do, he stood and pulled her up with him. “You’re not a problem.” He didn’t understand how to stop her pain or even fix what she thought was wrong because he would if he did.

  “Oh no? Twice in your company I’ve fallen into a body of water. I’ve been chewed on by a llama. I’ve smeared myself with ketchup and had
bird poop in my hair.” She pulled away, her chin trembling. “What kind of woman has all that happen to her?”

  “Maybe the kind who has a natural affinity for doing stuff like that. It’s not all bad.” He reached for her hand but she backed away. “It’s kind of endearing.”

  “Please. If you had the choice, you’d hang out with a woman who could actually carry on a conversation in the same topic and at least stay clean and dry.”

  Mark sighed. Why was talking to women — this woman — so hard? “Don’t you get it? I think you’re great no matter what.” During his stint in the creek, he’d lost his hat, so he shoved a hand through his hair. He said the first thing that came to mind. “Come on. Let me take you home. You’ll feel better after a hot shower.”

  “And that’s supposed to be my answer?”

  “Well, I’m thinking I’d feel better after a shower, so you would too.” Did he not explain it right?

  “Oh, brother.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared. “Plus, if you were so into me, how come none of this — the creek, the weather, any of it — bothers you? Don’t you ever get mad?”

  “I—” Of course he did, but this sort of stuff wasn’t the type to lose his temper over.

  “Why do you always have to be so easy going about everything? Don’t you care that you’re a bait guy and probably will be for the rest of your life?” Her eyes went round and brimmed with regret. She pressed a shaking hand to her lips.

  Mark reeled. His chest tightened and ached as if she’d physically hit him. “I thought what I did for a living didn’t matter.”

  “Maybe it does. I don’t know.” Alice shook her head. “I’m sorry for almost killing you. I’m sorry you had to dive in and rescue me.” Guilt haunted her eyes. “I’m sorry I ever showed up at your bait shop.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  Regret ruled her expression, but he didn’t know if it was due to what she’d said or something else she kept back. “You and I aren’t dating material. It’s too confusing.” She headed back the way they’d come.

  “Where are you going?” Short of tucking her under his arm and making her listen to reason, he couldn’t very well stop her, no matter how much he’d been blindsided.

  “Home. My flower shop. Somewhere. I don’t know. I need to clear my head. This is all just too much right now.”

  He followed after her. How could she have changed her mind so fast? “At least let me take you home. It’s at least five miles to town, and you’re exhausted. Whatever else you think I am, I’m a gentleman, and I won’t let you walk all that way in such bad weather.” Not that any of it apparently mattered to her. She’d leveled him, brushed him aside as if he were dirt on her shoes, but his grandma would come after him with a wooden spoon if he left Alice alone far from home.

  “Fine.” She faced him. “This doesn’t mean anything. I just want the ride.”

  “Trust me. I don’t exactly feel like Mr. Romance right now.” Mark brushed past her, hoping his keys were still in his pocket. If not, it’d be a long, sullen walk in the rain for them both.

  His big moment had come, yet he hadn’t gotten the girl. In fact, from all accounts, saving her had only seemed to tick her off. What did I do wrong? Did he not have enough experience? Did he not say the right things? Was his rescue not brave enough to win her over? Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m not the guy a woman wants to date once she gets to know me. He kicked at a clump of weeds. It would serve Alice right if they were her precious flowers.

  All of his vowing to be polite vanished. He wanted a say too. “For the record, baiting a hook is a lot easier than keeping you interested. I guess I’m not the flashy, sophisticated kind of guy you’re attracted to.”

  “What does that mean?” She wiped at the moisture on her face.

  Still mentally licking his wounds, Mark figured he might as well confess everything. “The real reason you’re ditching me is because you somehow found out I’m a virgin, right? You’d rather have a guy who won’t have to ask for directions in bed.”

  For one second, Alice’s jaw hung slack. Wonder lurked in her eyes, then she shook her head. “It’s not like guys ask for directions in anything they do.”

  Great. Just perfect. She’d chosen to joke about the biggest secret of his adult life. “Well, I guess I have my answer.”

  He didn’t care if she heard. It would already be a crappy ride back to town.

  ****

  The second Mark stepped through his front door his grandma came into the living room from the kitchen. “Don’t just stand there, boy. You’re dripping on the carpet.”

  “I don’t care.” The only concession he made to her statement was to remove his hiking boots. After that, he stood in his spot, suddenly exhausted and lost.

  “You better care. I’ll make you shampoo the carpet, then you will.”

  “Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.” He yanked down the zipper of his windbreaker. “It’s not been a good day.” Once he’d wrestled the garment off, he threw it on the floor then stomped on it. “Why can’t it ever be me?”

  “What is your problem, boy? I’ve seen porcupines less prickly than you.” Grandma shuffled across the floor, her house slippers scratching the carpet at each step. She grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong for a woman her age, then she pulled him into the room and none too gently shoved him on the sofa. “I’ve got a potpie in the oven and laundry going plus zero time to listen to your sulking. Your brother’s coming home tomorrow.”

  “Oh, goody.”

  “Don’t be rude. Start talking.” She stared him down as she sank onto the sofa beside him.

  Mark rubbed his eyes and finally looked at the older woman. “The florist is my problem. I think I want her for more than a friend, but after today, even that’s going to be an issue.”

  “What did you do?” A frown pulled at her thin lips. “It would have been a sure thing.”

  “Why do you always assume it’s me?” If his family didn’t have faith in him, why should he? When Grandma said nothing, Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine. I went with her to dig up some sort of flower bulbs. She wanted to get frisky but the section of ground she stood on crumbled and she fell into Grady Creek. I dove in after her, rescued her, and all I got for my efforts was a bunch of lip and the ‘we aren’t compatible’ speech. My big hero moment was wasted on her. End of story.” Told aloud and with a sarcastic slant, it sounded dorky and a tad pathetic.

  Grandma cackled with laughter. “That’s never the end of the story.”

  “Well, it is in my book.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He heaved a sigh that felt as if it came from the toes of his wet socks. “She said she doesn’t like it that I’ve got no future past the bait shop.”

  “Well, I can see her point. No seeming security means a no good future. Girls want to be taken care of. Best work on that.”

  “Not you too!” Mark shot to his feet. “Look, I’m fighting with the llamas, trying to keep the farm running, contemplating a move, dealing with a girl who switches conversations on a dime, and you’re luring men to the bait shop with exotic new products.” He shoved both hands through his hair. A glance into the dark TV set showed the wet ends stood at crazy angles all over his head.

  “Not to mention you’re a wee bit frustrated in the man-works department.”

  “Grandma!” Heat rushed through his body, but he knew she was right. “Something’s got to give!”

  She snorted. “Yeah, your sanity. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in such a state, boy. At least you’ve found something you’re passionate about.”

  Mark wheeled around to contemplate his relative. “What does that mean?”

  “It means in recent years you’ve only gone through the motions of life, watching everyone else have their moment.” She shrugged. “Sounds to me like you’re now skipping down the path to rainbows and unicorns.”

  He glared. “Seriously?”

  Grandma rose.
She poked him in the chest. “Have you kissed her yet?”

  “Please don’t give me the talk.” Would it be too much to ask that I can suddenly become a hermit who’s hard of hearing?

  “Good heavens, we’re past that. Even I don’t think you’ve done any hanky panky with this girl, and you’re too old for that sort of talk besides.” She lifted a feathery, gray eyebrow. “When your brother started his dating life, I told him a man can find true love in twelve kisses. How many smackers have you laid on Alice?”

  Heat rose up his neck and into his ears, from embarrassment of thinking of Alice, he couldn’t say. “A handful I guess.” Aw, man, what I wouldn’t do to win her back.

  “Then there’s one thing to do.”

  “What?” Only God knew what his grandma’s harebrained scheme would be.

  “Go after her. If that woman’s got you this tied up in knots then she must be someone special. Go find out how much.” When the oven timer buzzed, Grandma made her way into the kitchen. “You want to be a hero? Then go after her and play the hero card again. This time, make sure she knows what you’re going for.”

  Yeah, that’s the problem. She doesn’t want what I’ve got. Even if I kiss her a hundred times, that’s not going to change her mind.

  She must have reached the timer because it stopped its harsh call. The oven door squeaked, then a casserole dish clunked onto an electric burner followed by the slam of the oven door. Grandma stood in the doorway. “Oh, and one more thing, boy. After all that yakking I’m sure you’ll try and do, just kiss her. A girl can find out all she needs from a man if he kisses her right. You can work out everything else. I promise.”

  “What if I do all of that, and she still doesn’t want me?” Anxiety chewed up his stomach like a raccoon after a trash can lid.