Читать книгу Her Small-Town Romance - Jill Kemerer - Страница 9
ОглавлениеBryan Sheffield scanned the parking lot as he paced under the pavilion at Evergreen Park. His students, most likely retirees and a few college kids, should be arriving any minute. He had no idea how many people would show up for the free outdoor course. Ideally, ten or twelve. If teaching this class every Saturday morning helped him land an interview at Blue Mountain Retreat, he’d gladly instruct fifty people.
A swish of wind overhead set new green leaves in motion, and sunshine spilled through the branches to the ground. Michigan’s Lake Endwell in mid-April brought hungry squirrels dashing across the soggy grass. Robins flitted here and there. The park throbbed with pent-up energy after a long winter. Bryan could relate.
His watch said 7:55. Had the Parks and Recreation Department listed the wrong date on the website or something?
One tiny woman with long brown hair clutched her hands together as she weaved across the pavement. She appeared to be praying or chanting or...something. Odd. Maybe she was taking one of those prayer walks or whatever it was Aunt Sally mentioned some of the church ladies started doing recently.
He stopped pacing. What if no one showed up?
People would come. They had to.
He couldn’t spend the rest of his life surrounded by his happily married siblings, not when he would never have a wife and family of his own. He loved Lake Endwell, but his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He needed the change Ontario, Canada, offered.
Blue Mountain Retreat was interviewing outdoor instructors in June. That left less than two months to strengthen his qualifications. The director wanted an experienced leader comfortable teaching an array of professional personalities from charismatic to timid to eccentric. The ideal candidate would have expert knowledge of North American forests and a diplomatic, outgoing personality.
Bryan had never been described as outgoing. His ex-wife had put it in less flattering terms. Boring. Lame. Hey, he might not be the most exciting person, but no local would refute his outdoor knowledge.
Now it was 7:58. Where was everyone?
He studied the parking lot again. A family unpacked bikes from a silver minivan. An elderly man hobbled in the direction of the bird feeders located near the pond. And the strange woman? Marched his way, albeit in a zigzag pattern.
As she neared, he pegged her at about five feet tall and in her late twenties, but he’d never been good at guessing ages. She had rosy lips and big green eyes that didn’t seem to register her whereabouts. Streaks of cinnamon shot through her hair.
She was pretty.
Very pretty.
His pulse hammered like the bill of the downy woodpecker against the poplar to his left. She could not be one of his students. He’d mentally prepared for older folks, college kids.
He hadn’t prepared for pretty.
Green Eyes edged into the pavilion, her chest heaving as if she’d run six miles. Her face was white, and she blinked rapidly. “Is this the survival class?”
He widened his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, this is Outdoor Survival 101.”
“Good. I barely survived the parking lot, so I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Great. His only student. Cute and probably crazy.
Real funny, God. I ask You to get me out of my five-year rut, and You give me this?
“I know what I’m doing.” Bryan rubbed the two-day stubble on his chin. “What was so bad about the parking lot?”
She grimaced, a visible shiver rippling over her. “Everything.”
He pressed his lips together. He did not encourage overly dramatic behavior. His sister Libby’s antics growing up had taught him that.
“Bryan Sheffield.” He thrust his hand out. Her icy fingers felt fragile in his.
“Jade Emerson.”
The name fit her on account of the eyes. “Since you’re the lone student so far, let’s wait a few minutes before heading to the trail.”
Jade practically collapsed on the bench of a picnic table. Her olive jacket covered dark jeans, and she wore rubber rain boots—burgundy with black polka dots. She reminded him of a princess, someone he’d read about in picture books as a kid, but her defeated posture didn’t match the images in his mind.
He hadn’t seen her before, and in a small town like this it meant she wasn’t from around here. One of his numerous relatives would have alerted him. Aunt Sally and the ladies from work were forever trying to set him up with any single woman in the county. He always politely declined, unwilling to reveal it wouldn’t matter who they set him up with—he wasn’t interested in dating or marriage. Once was enough.
“Are you from out of town?” he asked.
“Yes. Just moved yesterday.”
He didn’t know what it was like to be new in town. He’d lived here his entire life, but hopefully that would change this summer. “How did you find out about the class?”
She gave her head a little shake. “The website. I saw the class advertised a few weeks ago.”
At least he knew the Parks and Recreation Department listed the correct information. “So where are you from?”
“Las Vegas.” A bit of color returned to her cheeks.
“Sin City, huh?” Why would a pretty girl from Las Vegas want to move here?
“I prefer to think of it by its lesser known nickname, the Capital of Second Chances.”
Second chances? A second chance at Blue Mountain sounded good. He hitched his chin. “So what brings you to Lake Endwell?”
“I’m opening a store.” The words pulled from her as wispy and thin as threads of cotton candy.
“Oh, yeah? What kind?”
“A gift shop.” She fanned herself, but the temperature couldn’t be more than fifty-five degrees. “Custom-designed T-shirts and gifts. I’m still deciding on the inventory.”
A candy store, novelty shop and higher-end women’s clothing boutique satisfied the summer tourists. The town might not be able to support her store year-round, but Bryan kept his thoughts to himself. If Jade wanted to open a T-shirt shop, that was her business.
And his business? Wasn’t looking promising, not with one student.
He checked the parking lot again. “It looks like you’re the only one who showed up. Do you still want to take the class?”
“No.”
No? His chest had a slow leak or something. He should be relieved. But her no stirred up bits and pieces he’d been suppressing all week, like the sinking feeling he got when his younger brother, Sam, sneered, “You, teaching? You realize you’ll have to leave the house and be friendly, right?” As if Bryan had no social skills. He knew how to be friendly. But Sam’s words had kicked up doubts. Would his personality kill his chances with the director of the retreat?
Jade stood on wobbly legs, and her fingertips darted to the table for support. “I don’t want to take the class, but I will. I have to.”
He pulled his shoulders back. A part of him would prefer no students to this one. Too cute. Too out there. Too everything. “I can cancel today’s session.”
“No!” Her eyes widened. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?” He suppressed a sigh. Did she want to be here or not? Maybe this would qualify him for the eccentric personalities the retreat director mentioned.
She shook her head so rapidly her hair waved behind her. Her face paled again. She wasn’t going to faint, was she? Bryan stepped forward, but she remained standing.
“It will ruin everything.”
Ruin what? He didn’t know and wasn’t asking. He’d grown up with two sisters. Their way of thinking had always been two steps ahead of his.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t get so worked up. We’ll go to the trail right now. No big deal.”
“The trail?” she squeaked. “Right now?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what you want?”
“I... I...” Her hands twisted as if she were wringing out a wet washcloth. “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Her breaths came in short, audible gasps.
“Here.” He took a paper bag out of his backpack and handed it to her. “Breathe into this. When you’ve got it under control, tell me what’s going on.”
* * *
Jade slumped on the bench and sucked in a breath. The paper bag crinkled into itself. When she exhaled, it puffed out again. She didn’t dare look at Bryan. First of all, he was a full foot taller than her, and her neck might snap trying to stare at him from her seated position. Secondly, the sight of him made her gooey insides extra mushy. His level of attractiveness on a scale of one to ten was a twenty. Those blue eyes reminded her of the desert sky, and he had a cleft in his chin. A cleft! No man should have such touchable dark blond hair.
And now he was restlessly waiting because he seemed to think she owed him an explanation. Which she did, after treating him to a full-blown episode of her ridiculous phobia. She pulled the bag away from her mouth.
“I don’t like forests.” There. She’d said it. And shoved the paper bag right back, daring him to mock her. His eyebrows drew together.
He probably couldn’t comprehend the thought—him so tall, so fit, so at ease outdoors. He was practically perfect. She scowled. The guys she found attractive were always practically perfect—at first. Their charm wore off as they grew condescending, dismissive. No, thanks. She had enough on her hands getting her shop established.
“Why don’t you like forests?”
A hysterical cackle rose in her throat, but she clamped her mouth shut, not allowing it to escape.
Why? Why indeed. Since her breathing had stabilized, she smoothed out the brown bag and set it on her lap. “I’ve never lived around many trees.” Except for the summer in Germany when she was seven—her heartbeat grew faint as the memories returned. He didn’t need to know her secrets. “They’ve always given me the creeps.”
“Oh.” He nodded, rubbing his chin.
Jade lightly massaged her temples. Trying to overcome this fear was impossible. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried numerous times. The excitement of quitting her job last month must have given her a false sense of power. Picking a town smack-dab in the middle of dense woods to open her business made no sense.
Except it did.
After Mimi died, Jade kept replaying the wisdom her grandmother shared over the years. One piece of advice had clung to her heart. Jade, honey, I hope you find your Lake Endwell, a place where dreams come true. Poppi and I always said we’d move there, but God had other plans for us. Listen to His plan for your life.
Moving here made perfect sense. Jade wanted her dreams—all of them—to come true.
“I’m missing something, right?” Bryan sounded uncertain. “If you don’t like the forest, why did you move here?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Is there anything I can do?” He propped his foot on the bench.
She hoped so. She’d set her moving plans in motion after poking through Lake Endwell’s website and stumbling across Bryan’s class.
An answer to her prayer.
Living here wouldn’t work unless she could tolerate trees. Yesterday she’d grown dizzy and hysterical driving through the tightly packed woods on the way into town. The thought of breaking down and getting lost... She shivered. How would she be able to make the thirty-minute drive to a mall, the discount stores or an airport unless she overcame this fear?
“I don’t have any experience with not liking trees.” Bryan’s eyes clouded over. “Not sure I can be of much help.”
Maybe Bryan’s class was God’s way of getting her here. Maybe He had another plan in mind for her to get over her affliction. Rising, she brushed off her jeans and willed her lips into a tight smile. “I’ll figure something out.” But what? She hadn’t felt this torn since hearing Mimi had cancer.
“Well, the least I can do is show you around the park.” His low, soothing voice unlatched the tightness around her chest. “You might not feel as scared if you know more about it.”
She added nice to her mental list comprising Bryan Sheffield. But then, didn’t they all seem nice at first? The nitpicking and disapproval began after they realized she wasn’t as great as they’d first thought. The story of her dating life.
“You don’t have to.”
Bryan tilted his head. “You obviously want to get over your fear or you wouldn’t have shown up today. I’m no therapist, but I know my way around the woods.”
“I must seem crazy.” Jade wasn’t a seven-year-old child anymore, and logically, she knew the chances of getting lost again were slim.
“Nah. I married crazy. You’re...” Crimson climbed his neck. “Never mind. Follow me.”
Married? Relief flooded her. Of course he was married. Married and safe. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about being attracted to him. She’d promised herself no romance until she got the rest of her life in order and figured out the right type of guy for her.
“Grab the paper bag,” Bryan said. “You might need it.”
* * *
“Surviving in the woods depends on a lot of factors.” Bryan kept his tone informal as they crossed a wide lawn toward a cluster of hardwoods. Why would anyone be afraid of trees? He could understand not wanting to hike for personal reasons, but to be afraid of the forest was a concept he couldn’t wrap his head around.
Right after class, he was typing fliers. Posting them around town. Asking Aunt Sally and his sisters to spread the word far and wide. Advertising on the radio if need be. He’d have full attendance at next week’s class. One student who was too scared to be out here would not qualify him for the job.
He needed that job.
Tuesday family dinners had become unbearable. All the private loving glances between Claire and Reed. The way Tommy glued himself to Stephanie’s side. Jake and Libby’s inside jokes. Bryan couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn’t take the loneliness flooding him in their presence.
He glanced at Jade to make sure she wasn’t hyperventilating again. She matched his pace. Quiet, but breathing normally.
Why had he encouraged her to stay? So her emotional state touched a nerve. It didn’t mean she was his responsibility. He had no business spending time with someone so beautiful. And the slip about his marriage? Unraveled threads he’d fought to hide since Abby left. Yeah, she’d cheated on him, but he’d made vows, ones he didn’t take lightly.
A part of him had known the marriage would never work. He’d ignored his instincts and asked her to marry him, anyway. He’d been dazzled by her style. Flattered by her pursuit of him. Fooled into believing she loved him as much as he loved her. No one to blame but himself.
Which was the bigger sin?
The divorce?
Or marrying her to begin with?
“Um, Bryan?” Jade tapped his arm. He almost jumped.
“Sorry,” he said. “Yeah, so if you ever got lost in the woods...”
“Can we not mention getting lost?” Her serious tone made him smile.
“No problem.” Clear your head. It’s been years since Abby left. “Well, let’s say you were hungry and didn’t have anything to eat. There are plenty of edible plants if you know what to look for.”
“I’ll pack power bars and Tootsie Rolls.”
“What if you got lost and ate your entire supply?”
“Didn’t you get my memo about not discussing you-know-what?” She widened her eyes, her eyelashes curling upward.
“Right.” He continued forward until stopping in front of a grouping of trees. Jade stood about ten feet away on the lawn. Once more Bryan was struck by her size. A strong wind could blow her over as easily as a stray feather. He waved for her to approach. “Why don’t you come here so I can show you what to look for?”
“I’m close enough.”
He went back to her and waited. Why was she terrified? Was it because she was used to the desert? Had she been born afraid of forests? Or had she watched one too many horror films?
Finally, she sighed and followed him.
“This is a white birch.” He got the impression she couldn’t say a word and not from awe. He’d grown up hiking these woods with Granddad. Knew every bit of the surrounding area. He loved Lake Endwell—the evergreens, ferns, blue jays and sparrows, the scent of pollen, pinecones, the mucky ground after a hard rain. He loved it all. It would be tough to leave, but he couldn’t stay.
Bryan peeled a six-inch section of birch bark and handed it to her. “It’s textured on the outside but smooth inside. See? Smell it. It’s a good smell.”
The tight lines around her mouth eased. “It doesn’t have much of a scent.”
“Inhale. You’ll catch it. Mint, with a bit of history.”
“History?”
“Native Americans and early settlers relied on birch for a lot of things. It’s waterproof, so they used it for roofs, canoes, even shoes. The inner bark is edible.”
“I didn’t know that. It peels off in ribbons.” She inspected the strip, picking at the pale pink layers. He took it as a good sign.
“You can write on it, too. Take it home. Try it.”
“Okay.”
Bryan tugged a slim branch to her. She hopped with her hand over her heart. He moved it back several inches. The suppleness of new tree growth always impressed him because of the resilience. Age strengthened the wood. “Sycamore trees have white bark also, but it’s not papery like the birch’s. If you aren’t sure if a tree is a sycamore or a birch, check the leaves. Birch trees have small, oval-shaped leaves. Sycamore leaves are big and shaped like a hand.” He held his palm up, fingers together, to show her.
Jade rose on her tiptoes and extended her neck. “Why does it matter if I know which is which?”
“Survival.” Bryan let the branch spring back into place. “The white birch has pure, drinkable sap. It’s sweet. If you had a Swiss Army knife on you, you’d have a potential source of hydration. Chop a small triangle out of the trunk, and you can catch the moisture and eat the inner flesh.”
“Couldn’t I drink from that?” Rotating to the side, she pointed to the pond.
“You could, but you’d have to boil the water first. It’s full of algae and other contaminants. Besides, you might be somewhere where there isn’t a water source.” He spotted an overgrowth of weeds. “Before we continue, I have to warn you about certain plants.”
“Great,” she muttered, but joined him.
“Over there.” He nodded to a green vine. “That’s poison ivy. You can tell because it has three pointy green leaves.”
Jade hung back, flourishing her hand in the direction of the weeds. “Is that poison ivy, too?”
“No. That’s honeysuckle. It has individual leaves.” He didn’t dare lop off the poison ivy, but she didn’t seem to be willing to come near it. “I’m not sure if you can see this, but all three leaves are coming from the same stem.”
“Oh. Okay, I get it.”
Bryan returned to her side. “Poison oak has three leaves also. There’s a saying in the woods, ‘Leaves of three, let it be.’ Avoid them or you might get a rash.”
“Avoiding them won’t be a problem.” She lifted one shoulder and smiled. Once more, he was all too aware of her appeal. She was even prettier when she wasn’t terrified. She tapped her finger against her chin. “You know, I don’t feel as nervous right now.”
“Good. Now that you live in Lake Endwell, you might find hiking becomes your new hobby. Nature is generous. Give it a chance.”
“Hiking as my hobby? Doubtful.” Jade tucked the birch bark into her jacket pocket. “What do you mean, nature is generous?”
He plucked a young blade of grass from the ground and held it out. “It’s all connected. The ground gives nutrients to the plants, and the plants provide food and shelter for the birds, insects and animals. Everything you see in this park is generous.”
“I never thought of it that way.” Shielding her eyes, she raised her face to the sky. “I’m not sure I’m ready for all this.”
“Take it one day at a time.”
“But that’s the thing. I’m kind of okay now, but I know we’re not going to stand on the lawn for two hours next week.”
“No,” he murmured. He hadn’t considered she’d want to continue taking his class, not when she could barely tolerate the birches. “We won’t.”
“I think I’ve had enough forest-related instruction for the day.” A breeze lifted the ends of her hair. “Can we check out the pond?”
“Sure.”
Side by side they squished through the grass.
“Do you come here a lot with your wife?”
Bryan almost stumbled. He had that one coming. He shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have mentioned a wife.
He might be divorced, but it didn’t mean he was single.
“No,” he said. “I can’t say I do.”
