“You’ve been canoeing?”
She shifted. “Not really. But I’ve done my research.” How hard could it be? A boat, two paddles, a serene stretch of the Green River. She wasn’t that lame.
“I’m not trying to be a jerk, but that didn’t work out so well with the rafting.”
She scowled at him. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun, and it won’t take long. Tomorrow’s supposed to be a gorgeous spring day.”
She studied him. His thick arms were crossed over his broad chest. He tilted his head at her, smirking. Even his smirk was hot. So unfair.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you doing this again?”
His lips twitched. “So suspicious.”
She colored under his direct gaze and wondered idly when she’d last combed her hair and freshened her lip gloss. She shook the thought away. Pearl Chambers and her stupid antiquated advice.
“You didn’t answer the question,” she said.
He sighed, his gaze lingering on her until she squirmed in her chair.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.
“Eight years.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Is this going somewhere?”
“Humor me.”
She sighed hard. “Fine. Buffalo.”
“Nice. Home of the buffalo wing and the Sabres. I’m a hockey fan.”
She shook her head, giving him her
And .
. . stare.
“It’s a small town, Molly. People here stick together and
help each other. When the log mill shut down, we worked together and made things happen. You were here. You watched Smitten go from a dying town to a thriving tourist destination. And now look, you own your own business because of it. That’s what happens when people help each other.” He lifted his shoulders. “I’m just being neighborly.”
Even though they were competitors? Even though he’d tried to keep Curtis from opening shop to begin with? There was more stuff too. She just couldn’t remember it all. But Gage had sure gotten Curtis’s ire up.
“I love being outdoors,” he said. “It’s not exactly a chore. Besides, maybe someday I’ll need help, and you’ll be there.”
Hmm. Did he have something else up his sleeve? Something he wanted from her? She looked down at the blotter before he could read her suspicions.
She’d have to think about that later. Right now she just wanted his masculine self out of her cubbyhole office. “All right. Yes, thank you. Canoeing lessons, tomorrow morning.”
They set a time, and when he left, Molly sank in her chair. She hoped she wasn’t making a monumental mistake.
A girl should not be so taken with the butterflies fluttering about her belly that she ceases to use good judgment.
P
EARL
C
HAMBERS
,
The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship
CHAPTER FIVE
G
age drew his paddle through the water, his eyes on Molly’s back. Her fitted pink T-shirt was tucked into the waistband of her jeans. Her light brown hair was captured in a ponytail, and it sparkled with bronze highlights under the sun. An orange life preserver hugged her frame. They were heading toward a warm day, not a cloud in the sky.
She switched sides with her paddle, and he followed suit, a few drops of frigid water dribbling across his legs. “Nice job, Molly.”
“This is pretty easy.”
“Relaxing, huh? This is a nice stretch.” The river helped them along, but not so much that they couldn’t enjoy the scenery. Grassy banks sloped up from the river, and countless trees stretched into the sky on both sides, sheltering them from the world.
“You’ll love it in the fall,” he said. “The colors are great through here.”
“How deep it is?”
“Twelve feet or so here.”
“Have you ever tipped over?”
“Oh yeah. Not because of me, though.”
“Of course not.” She tossed a saucy grin over her shoulder.
“Watch it, or I’ll do a demonstration.”
“I did not dress for a swim.” There was a warning in her tone.
“That’s half the fun.” He rocked the boat.
She squealed, grabbing the sides, her paddle clanking against the boat. “Don’t you dare!”
He chuckled, but did as she said. “Spoilsport.”
She was fun to mess with. Her cheeks bloomed with color, and he missed that, sitting behind her. However, this view was nice too.
“I think I’ve got the hang of this,” she said a few minutes later. “Should I take the stern now?”
“Let’s switch at the halfway point. It’s not far.”
They approached a bend. “Very nice,” he said after they’d navigated it. “So how is it that you’re taking a group out here?” Canoeing was usually a put-in and pick-up situation.
“The couple is celebrating their first anniversary. She broke her arm recently, and they have their hearts set on canoeing, so . . .”
“You’re their chauffeur.”
“Basically.”
He wondered if it was hard being around so many couples after losing her husband. Shoot, Smitten wasn’t an easy place
to be single, period. He should know. He’d done his share of dating but had yet to meet that someone special.
His eyes drifted back to the woman in the bow, and he wondered if she was dating yet. Wondered if she was still in love with her late husband. How she and her kid were really faring.
“You have a son, right?”
“Noah. He’s eight.”
“Good age. Maybe you can take him canoeing now. And rock climbing.”
She drew her paddle slowly through the placid water and paused, resting. “He’d love that. His dad used to take him. I think he misses it.”
He was surprised she’d mentioned something personal. The woman had walls a mile high. Walls he was beginning to think he might enjoy taking down, one stone at a time.
“There you go, then,” he said.
She grew quiet, and he had a feeling she’d gone to a place in the past. It had to have been a rough year. After her husband had died, Gage had wanted to offer his help with the business more than once. But every time he’d run into Molly, she’d given him the cold shoulder. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to patronize her, and as far as he’d known the business was fine in her capable hands.
“So, how’d you get involved in this business?” she asked after they navigated a dead tree.
“My dad and I used to spend a lot of time outdoors. I loved it. My parents always told me to figure out what I love to do, then find a way to make money at it. I took a summer job in Stowe as a guide and worked my way up there after high
school. Saved my money. Then Smitten became a tourist destination, and it seemed providential. So here I am.”
“No college?” She sounded surprised.
“Nope, never did. You?”
“NYU. Majored in music. My parents were thrilled about that.”
“What do you play? Or are you a vocalist?”
“Piano, mostly. Although I’m fluent in flute and clarinet.”
“I’m impressed. I don’t have a musical bone in my body.” He suddenly wanted to hear her play more than he could say. That wasn’t likely to happen. “So did you dream of being in an orchestra, or being a concert pianist?”
“Nothing so grand, just a music teacher. My parents liked your plan better, though.”
“So now you’re a business owner . . .”
She gave a wry laugh that came out as a snort. “Life does throw unexpected curves. I met Curtis at NYU. You probably know he was a business major. I guess opposites attract. We married and moved here when his mom was still alive. Shortly after that, Smitten became a tourist destination, and he saw the same opportunity you did.”
“Do you miss playing?”
She shrugged. “Sure. I have a business to run, though, and a child to support. Maybe someday I’ll get back to it.”
He got the feeling Curtis hadn’t left her in a good financial situation. He hated that for her. Wondered if there was more he could do to help. He remembered the chat he’d walked in on at her office the night before. That ugly review.
“You know, if you ever want to talk things through,
business stuff, I’m glad to lend an ear, offer my opinion. For what it’s worth.”
He didn’t think he imagined the way her spine stiffened.
“Thanks, but I have it under control.”
Two stones down, one back up, just like that. They approached the halfway point, a sandbar just before the red covered bridge. “Let’s switch here.” Maybe after a quick break, he could steer the conversation to safer topics.
“Ugh, it’s so thick.” Molly frowned at the copy of
The Help
, their next book group selection. The other members of the club were gone, and her friends were gathered around the fireplace, sipping coffee and tea in the quiet bookstore.
“It’s good,” Heather said. “It was on the best sellers list forever.”
“The cover’s ugly.” Molly scanned the back cover copy. “And it doesn’t sound vaguely intriguing.”
“Don’t you dare just watch the movie,” Abby said. “We’ll know if you do.”
Lia curled her feet under her. “It’s really good. You’ll like it.”
“I’ll give it a try. But I have to tell you, time is a scarce commodity right now. Plus, I have another book I’m reading, remember?”
“Have you found any clues yet?” Lia asked.
“I did notice Pearl mentioned stairs a couple of times as a metaphor for relationships. Maybe she hid it under the stairs?”
“We looked there,” Abby said. “Just a bunch of old junk.”
“Just the same, I might check again. Maybe there’s a loose floorboard or something.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Heather said. “Let me know if you need help.”
“Are things any better at the store?” Abby asked.
“She’s been taking lessons from Gage Turner the past couple weeks,” Heather said.
Molly was now proficient at nearly all the activities they offered. Gage had a wealth of knowledge, and she’d tapped into it as much as she could. She was more grateful than she could say. Maybe she should do something nice for him when this was over.
“Oh, I’m so glad he’s helping you,” Lia said. “Are things better businesswise?”
Molly shrugged. “Well, I found a girl to run the office—April Campbell. And I know what I’m doing on tours now.” Too bad she didn’t have many customers to impress with her newfound skills. Or enough money in the bank to pay her bills.
“She sure does,” Heather said. “That Gage must be one heck of a teacher.” Her eyes sparkled at Molly over the rim of her mug.
Molly gave a mock glare. Heather had been teasing her all week.
Abby’s eyes toggled between them. “Okay, what are you not telling us?”
“Nothing,” Molly said, frowning. “There’s nothing I’m not telling you.”
“Just that the man can hardly take his eyes off our little Molly,” Heather said.
Heat climbed into Molly’s cheeks. “That’s ridiculous.”
A grin stretched across Lia’s face. “Do you like him?”
“I hardly know him.”
Heather humphed. “You’ve spent the last two and a half weeks traversing the great outdoors together.”
“Plus he’s so yummy,” Abby said.
“Don’t you have your own man to ogle?” Molly said.
“Oh, I do, but I’m not blind.”
“You should see the way he looks at her when she’s not watching.” Heather sighed dramatically. “I’m telling you, the man’s already half gone.”
“Hello. My husband just died. I have a son to support and a failing business to save.” She was just fine on her own. Too busy to even think about being lonely.
Lia set her hand on Molly’s shoulder. “It’s been over a year, Molly. It’s normal to start having feelings again.”
“You’re a young, vibrant woman,” Abby added.
It was hard to believe a year had gone by. Though, if she were honest, things hadn’t been right between Curtis and herself long before that.
Lia was right. Something had been stirring inside lately. Especially around Gage. Or when she was thinking about Gage. Which was way too often. Still, regardless of what Heather said, she wasn’t sure about Gage’s motives.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that he’s putting in so much time to help a competitor?”
Heather waved Molly’s concerns away. “He’s being neighborly.”
“Does it seem like he’s snooping or digging for information?” Lia asked.
“Well . . . no, not really.” They hardly talked business at all, except for the instruction he gave. But she couldn’t forget that comment he’d made about returning the favor.
Abby brushed her golden brown hair over her shoulder. “If you’re attracted to him—and how could you not be?—you should totally go for it.”
The thought made her stomach flutter. Not butterflies. More like pterodactyls. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“Fair enough,” Heather said. “But let’s at least pray about it. You never know when God’s going to bring the right man into your life, and you wouldn’t want to blindly pass him by.”
Do not be overly concerned by your suitor’s appearance. Do you hold common interests and ideals? These are the matters that will survive the wear and tear of marriage.
P
EARL
C
HAMBERS
,
The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship