Until She Met Daniel (8 page)

“It's just part of the late-summer music,” she said. “Want some tea?”

He hesitated, looked about ready to say yes, then shook his head. “I've got some things to do in the house, but thanks for the offer. Your iced tea is better than what I make. What blend do you use?”

There was a dogged casualness in his question, as if he was determined to be pleasant and nothing more. She ought to be grateful, instead of annoyed.

“English breakfast with a small dash of jasmine,” she said, trying to copy his tone of this-conversation-doesn't-matter-much. And it didn't. There were underlying tensions between them because they had such different opinions, but this wasn't work and she didn't enjoy being on poor terms with anyone.

“I'll have to try it.”

Mandy stayed on the patio a while longer, in case Daniel realized she'd gone in and thought it was because of him. But the light was getting low and the banana she'd eaten while driving to Pioneer Memorial Park was wearing thin.

In the kitchen she fixed a large salad, adding grilled chicken and cheese, then sat in the big easy chair to eat and watch baseball. The local cable mostly played the Giants' and Athletics' games, and tonight the San Francisco Giants were in Saint Louis playing the Cardinals. Having lived in so many different regions, it seemed only fair to cheer for the local team. So Mandy watched, hoping the Giants would do well—unfortunately they were in a slump and the Cardinals made sure it continued.

Later, when she snuggled into bed, she thought she'd see huckleberries when she closed her eyes, but they vied for attention with Daniel...and his irritating attempt to tell her what she shouldn't talk about with Susan.
That
was something she needed to remember whenever she noticed his sex appeal. She'd already committed disaster with one uptight rulebook and didn't intend to get involved with another guy who showed signs of having the same annoying trait.

Of course, there was no harm in finding Daniel Whittier physically attractive, even if she wasn't sold on his personality. After all, there were actors on TV and in the movies who'd caught her attention. And while it was disappointing to learn some of them were jerks in real life, it wasn't as if she had believed they were truly like a fictional character she'd enjoyed.

And most important of all, she didn't want to get involved with anyone that way. Willow's Eve
might
be that special place where everything fit together, but she didn't want any ties to keep her from moving on if necessary. Besides, the thought of Bill's disappointment back in Phoenix wasn't something she'd soon forget.

She scrunched her pillow and sighed. Daniel hadn't shown any particular interest in her in the first place, but it wouldn't hurt to keep his faults in mind.

* * *

S
ATURDAY
 
MORNING
, S
USAN
 
stretched and rolled over in bed. The previous evening she had managed to keep Chris completely away from the subject of water. After he'd seen her in the new dress, they almost hadn't gone out for their Friday night date. In fact, they had been quite tardy for their dinner reservation—then they'd had more fun after getting home. It reminded her of the first months after they were married.

She yawned.

Where was Chris?

Oh, that was right. He'd kissed her as the clock chimed eight and slid out of bed, so he could run into town to get their mail at the post office and pick up half-and-half for their morning coffee. She smiled sleepily, knowing he'd return home with doughnuts. That was the real reason he'd gone. Saturday's mail wouldn't actually be in the box until after ten.

Doughnuts were one of Chris's weaknesses, though he tried to restrict his indulgence to once a week. But he had to go early because the Vicksville bakery delivered doughnuts to the Handy Spandy at eight, and if you didn't get there promptly, the pastries were sold out by midmorning. Folks from Willow's Eve were so used to it, they didn't question the arrangement. But Mandy Colson had asked a perfectly logical question when she learned about the pattern—why didn't the market order a larger number of doughnuts, since it could obviously sell them? Mandy soon learned that Old Man Canfield had been running his store a certain way forever and had no intention of changing.

Susan debated whether she should stay in bed, but decided to get up and fix eggs to balance out the pastry. She'd do it up special, with mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, spinach and plenty of their favorite Muenster cheese. Given the time Chris had left, he should be home just as the eggs were ready.

Sure enough, he came through the door as she pulled the frying pan off the heat.

“That looks wonderful,” he said, though his voice was tight.

“Is something wrong?”

“I got another earful on that damned water project your father is promoting.”

Susan counted to ten. “Do you really want to discuss that when we could eat breakfast and then go back to bed? After all, we didn't get much sleep last night.”

She could see the internal struggle in his eyes. Chris was fierce on the environment, but debating the subject would put an end to more pleasant activities. That was one thing Susan had remained firm about over the years—she wouldn't have sex with an angry husband.

Deliberately she stretched so her silk robe slid across her breasts.

His face smoothed out and he smiled. “You know, I am kind of tired, and going back to bed for some extra...
rest
sounds like a brilliant idea.”

 

CHAPTER SIX

B
Y
 
THE
 
END
 
of the weekend, Mandy had picked several gallons of blackberries and made twenty-five jars of jam. Most of them she brought to City Hall for the upcoming bazaar, keeping only four for herself. The remaining berries went into the freezer.

Lou Ella Parsons slid into her office a few minutes after nine on Monday morning, a worried expression on her face.

“Hey, Lou. Did you have a good weekend?” Mandy asked.

“Yes, I mean, no. Oh dear, I'm not sure.”

“What's wrong?”

“It's this water issue, luv. I'm hearing they'll assess each resident to pay for it, and it could be thousands upon thousands of dollars. Do you know anything?”

“I only know there was a discussion at the city council meeting last Thursday. The town needs more water and they're looking at different possibilities.”

“I'm concerned, dear. My Harold and I, we're careful, watching our pennies and pounds. That's how we get by. I...I'm not sure we could handle a large bill of that sort.”

A couple of thoughts rushed through Mandy's mind all at once. The first was a warm understanding that Lou Ella must trust her—the elderly woman had never lost her reputed British reserve and wouldn't think of mentioning her finances to Mandy otherwise. The other thought was that Daniel may have had a
small
point in warning her about appearing to know something extra about the water issue. Well, the solution was to make it clear she didn't know more than anyone else.

“Let's try not to borrow trouble,” she cautioned. “Where did the assessment idea come from, anyway? I've been reading the newspaper and didn't see a word about something like that.”

“Oh...people. You know,” Lou Ella said vaguely.

Mandy didn't say anything, just gave her an encouraging look.

“Er...it was Margaret.” Lou Ella seemed embarrassed. For some reason, most of the seniors took Margaret's doom-and-gloom pronouncements as gospel, but were reluctant to admit their source. “She read about a town that had such a big assessment, some people lost their homes.”

“As far as I can tell from the article in the
Willow's Eve Banner,
the city council is just collecting information. They aren't close to making a decision,” Mandy said carefully. “Haven't they had only one meeting on the subject?”

Lou Ella nodded slowly.

“And you can get a copy of the meeting minutes to double-check,” Mandy added. “They don't have any secrets—doesn't the
Banner
editor always attend?”

“That's true.” Some of the tension drained from Lou Ella's face. “I suppose I'm being silly.”

“Not at all. You
should
check things out and be involved. If you're worried, you can even go the next time the council meets.”

“That's a good idea, but they often run late and we don't drive at night now.”

“I'll pick you up,” Mandy offered.

“You're a dear to offer. And you're probably right—we should get more facts.”

Mandy tried to nod cheerfully as Lou Ella left the office. Gulping some coffee, she wondered if she should check the meeting minutes herself. Susan emailed her a copy and she normally just moved it into another folder without reading—she genuinely
did
hate anything having to do with politics.

Pulling up her email inbox on the computer, she found that as usual, Susan had already sent copies to everyone on the mailing list. She opened the file and read through the minutes. Hmm. The weekly newspaper's article hadn't mentioned Big Joe Jensen being at the meeting, urging the council to move in a hurry.

Ouch.
No wonder Chris Russell was uptight. He and his father-in-law were always on opposing sides of issues that affected the environment. But there was one positive thing the seniors would appreciate—the mayor had mentioned the possibility of federal grants for any project that got approved. Too bad the newspaper hadn't included that in its report.

Mandy closed the file and leaned back in her chair. In the months she'd lived in Willow's Eve, no one had ever mentioned a water shortage, so it seemed odd it was suddenly being raised as an issue. But after all, people tended to take water for granted, the same way they took modern plumbing for granted.

Nevertheless, she was happy to provide taxi service for the seniors so they could attend city council meetings.

All day, folks buzzed about the issue and she directed them to the copies of the meeting minutes she'd put in the parlor.

She didn't see Daniel and figured he must be trapped in his office with a stream of folks asking about the water thing. She stopped and thought for a moment. Oh, that was right...he'd mentioned his belongings were being delivered today by the movers. No wonder he hadn't been around.

* * *

T
UESDAY
 
MORNING
, D
ANIEL
ran up the steps of City Hall.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Mandy's voice said behind him.

He turned. She certainly didn't dress as a professional, he thought idly. Of course, she wasn't actually a professional administrator; she'd simply fallen into the job. Some days, Mandy wore jeans with a T-shirt, but today it was a bright blue sundress, the kind you might see on a beach in Miami or L.A. Her smooth shoulders provoked mental images he tried to dismiss.

“It's good to make real progress on getting settled in the house,” he told her, focusing on her green eyes. “It felt as if I was in a holding pattern until now.”

She nodded. “I understand, though it usually doesn't take me long to get settled. I travel light—if it doesn't go into my VW, it doesn't go.”

“I can't do that with a family to consider.”

She blinked. “Oh, I didn't realize you were married.”

Daniel disliked talking about personal affairs, but in a town the size of Willow's Eve, his private life wouldn't stay as private as he would have preferred.

“I was divorced in February.”

Her brow wrinkling, Mandy's face turned sympathetic. “I guess the first year is always kind of weird.”

“You, too?”

“Yeah. Though I didn't spend much time getting used to being married in the first place.”

“So your husband turned out to be a skunk?”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

Confused, he shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“You assumed he was the problem in the marriage. He wasn't. Well, he was for
me.
I'm sure there are plenty of women who'd consider him a prize. But the short marriage is my fault, too, because I shouldn't have married him in the first place.”

Daniel's brain felt mushy after staying up late to unpack. All he could think of to say was, “Oh.”

Mandy shrugged, the thin strap of her dress sliding downward, once again reminding him of his current intimacy dry spell. It just went to prove that no matter how professional a guy wanted to be, his hormones could still prove problematic.

“If you aren't married anymore, who makes up your family?” she asked.

“My daughter, Samantha, and my mother-in-law. Or I should say my
former
mother-in-law. She's agreed to come to Willow's Eve with us so Samantha won't have to go to child care after school.”

“That's so cool.”

“Excuse me?”

“When people get divorced, it can also be brutal for their families. Sometimes they really care about each other, but they're expected to act as if they're getting divorced, too. Not that my ex's folks seemed that upset about it, other than how it might affect his position at Baux College. He teaches there, and they prefer married professors. Anyway, they were unctuously proper. And Vince still spends much more time with my parents than I do. He's my dad's protégé in the classical studies department.”

Not sure how to respond to the rush of information, Daniel gave Mandy a careful, noncommittal nod, and reached out to open the door, politely waving her in ahead of him.

He went into his office, glad he'd programmed the coffeemaker to brew a pot by the time he arrived. He poured a cup and gave himself a moment to sit and plan his day before launching into work.

The house wasn't in as much chaos as he might have expected, partly because of its size. The movers had simply put the boxes into two of the extra bedrooms, so they could be unpacked without tripping over them. And for an additional fee, the men had taken several pieces of the Victorian's furniture to the garage before putting Daniel's own furniture in place.

He'd set up a nice bedroom for Joyce and debated on which one to do for Samantha, finally choosing the room with an alcove in the Victorian's eastern “tower.” It was close to the master bedroom in case Samantha needed him, but he'd also been mindful of Mandy's prediction that it would be the most popular for a kid.

Daniel set his cup aside. It was time to get his morning started. With a sigh, he punched the button on the answering machine and listened, pen ready to note down the information an administrative assistant would ordinarily have organized for him.

“This...uh, this is a message for Daniel Whittier, the uh...Oh, dang, I don't like these recorders, but I wanted to ask about the water thing. Is it going to be expensive?” The beep came before the man's name and contact number were provided.

And so it went. Willow's Eve citizens, worried about the rumors flying around town, were calling to find out what was happening and how much it was going to cost.

Damn it, the rumor mill was alive and well in Willow's Eve. Between the weekly newspaper, coffee shop, shopping at the Handy Spandy and gatherings at various churches, people had obviously found ample opportunities to discuss the water issue all weekend.

A couple of the messages were from someone who'd also called earlier.

“This is Harve Miller again. Mandy gave us the council minutes and I understand more of it now. I don't need a call back, not for the moment, anyway.”

From the message, Daniel couldn't tell whether Mandy had simply handed out copies of the minutes, or if she'd talked about the issue. He just hoped she hadn't added any opinions to fuel the fire, though he wouldn't take any bets on that.

The most serious call was from someone named Chris Russell, stating concerns about environmental impact. He wasn't an amateur; he had the credentials to get people stirred up, and hadn't sounded happy. Or particularly cooperative.

Damn.
Privately, Daniel considered environmentalists to be important voices in society, raising awareness. But as a public official, he knew they could clog the works enormously.

And...
Russell?
Was there any chance this fellow was connected to city council member Susan Russell, who was also the paper mill owner's daughter? If so, there could be hell on the horizon.

Daniel stared at the long list of messages. He couldn't possibly call each person. Perhaps the members of the city council could divvy up them and do a share of the public relations work. Otherwise, he'd never get anything else done.

* * *

M
ANDY
 
SAT
 
AT
 
her computer, acutely aware of Daniel's presence at City Hall. It was probably just her imagination, but the air seemed charged with electricity, simply because he was in the office down the hall. Or the electricity might be only in her own abdomen.

Whatever the explanation, it was decidedly unsettling...and incredibly strange. Daniel wasn't her type, and he certainly didn't seem attracted to her. Of course, she hadn't thought Bill had been interested, either, but Bill had been an anomaly—she wasn't the most gorgeous woman around. “Cute” was how most of her boyfriends had described her, which might have been okay if they hadn't meant “cute” the way a kitten was cute.

Oh, well. She'd survived being cute, the same way she'd survived a lifetime of her family's disapproval. If she wanted to stay in Willow's Eve, she would have to survive her unlikely attraction to Daniel Whittier.

And she did want to stick around for a while longer.

At half past one, Mandy had a meeting with the mayor, so she trotted upstairs. When she was waved into the conference room, she found Daniel already there. Her stomach tightened as the mayor motioned her into the seat next to him.

But then the other employees at City Hall filed in and sat down also, so she listened while Howard explained the water issue.

“Please be careful about how you discuss it with anyone in town,” he said toward the end of his talk. “I mean, our new city manager has pointed out it might be assumed you have special knowledge because you work here.”

Mandy fumed. Howard's wording and attitude were subtly different from his usual hesitant style. And he glanced at Daniel periodically, as if to be sure he was saying it right.

No one else seemed to notice. Maybe she wouldn't have realized it was the new city manager's doing if Daniel hadn't already laid the same speech on her last Friday.

But she nodded dutifully along with the rest of the crowd.

“Thanks, everyone,” the mayor finally finished. “Are there any questions?”

No one seemed to have any, so Mandy started downstairs, Daniel beside her.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“What could be wrong?” she said, mindful of the fact that there were people in the rotunda who could overhear them.

He said nothing more, but followed her into her office, closing the door behind him.

“What do you want?” she said.

“You're annoyed.”

“Wow, give the man a prize. It's the first time I've ever seen a mayor used as a ventriloquist's dummy.” As soon as she'd said it, she felt guilty about the description since it wasn't fair to Howard. He was a decent mayor; he just had trouble with his oratory skills and making timely decisions.