A Wedding in Apple Grove (22 page)

Dan spent another restless night alone, and for the life of him couldn't remember why it had been so important to keep the distance between himself and the woman he craved. They'd enjoyed dinner and had chatted about a lot of different things, although the main focus had been Honey B. and her date. Still he'd felt the need to keep that space between them.

His hesitation was going to push Meg away—and that's not what he wanted to do. He needed her more than he'd ever needed anyone before. Why couldn't he just go with what his heart was telling him? Why couldn't he trust his gut? What was his problem?

He tried to sort through the morass of feelings inside while he shaved. “Ouch, damn it!” His chin bled where he'd nicked it with the razor.

“I'm an idiot.” His reflection grimaced but didn't disagree. “I've got to talk to someone who will understand where I'm coming from.” But who? He hadn't been in town long enough to trust anyone's judgment… except for the sheriff. But Wallace had his own problems, mostly centering around the current crop of teenagers gearing up to make the most of their senior year and keeping an eye on Honey B.

He could always go visit with his aunt, but then he'd run the risk of whatever he said circulating through the gossip mill—maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

Dressed and on his second cup of coffee, he decided not to call his aunt; it would be better if he dropped by the garden center. A quick glance at his watch told him that he had enough time for a short visit before heading to school.

Driving through town, he slowed down to obey the speed limit, but also to get a good look at the town waking up and getting ready to meet the day. The Apple Grove Diner was bustling with early morning customers. He'd have to make it a point to stop in to have a piece of the McCormack sisters' pie. He wondered if their crust tasted different than his grandmother's… maybe he could offer a chance to compare his secret ingredients with theirs.

Honey's Hair Salon was still closed, but there were a couple of cars outside of Murphy's Market. He smiled, remembering the way the guests at the wedding had referred to her as the Widow Murphy and not Mrs. Murphy. He grinned at the sight of the fire-engine red F-350 parked in front of the sheriff's office. The sheriff knew how to make a statement. If you saw that big red pickup in your rearview mirror with the lights flashing, you knew you were in major trouble.

He smiled as he pulled up to the garden center and saw a familiar figure in khaki jodhpurs, crisp white blouse, and Wellingtons standing out front with her back to the road, a pot of flowers in each hand. He slowed down and pulled into her gravel parking lot.

Trudi Philo looked over her shoulder and smiled in welcome and he knew he'd made the right decision coming here this morning. He put it in park and got out. “Morning, Aunt Trudi.”

“Daniel.” She beamed. “What brings you here today? It's Friday, isn't it? I thought you were coming tomorrow morning.” She set the pots down and rearranged the display she must have been working on when he pulled up.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I still am and the boys are still coming with me. I, um…” He hesitated for a moment then blurted out, “I need to ask your advice about something.”

She stared up at him for a few moments before she answered, “Grab those two pots over there for me please and tell me what's going on with Megan. You didn't give her those flowers, did you?”

“I got distracted and they wilted.” He moved a few more pots before she was satisfied. “I don't know what to do about her.”

A knowing smile lifted her lips. “Aside from what most young men with their sap on the rise want to do.”

He opened his mouth to speak and then ended up shaking his head. “I don't want to hurt her, Aunt Trudi.”

His aunt linked her arm through his and patted his hand. “I know you don't, Daniel dear, but by stepping back from what you've already started you already have.”

He stopped and looked at her. “How do you know?”

“I have my ways, young man. Now tell me what you're going to do to salvage your relationship with Megan.”

“That's just it. Every time I think I'm ready, I remember what happened back home—I don't want that to happen between Meg and me.”

“Now, Daniel,” she said, tugging on his arm to get him to stop walking. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Miserable with the way things were working out, he shook his head. She tapped her finger to her lips and finally said, “That's the problem, you know.”

Dan tried to replay their conversation in his head so he'd know what the heck she was talking about. He finally had to ask, “What is?”

Her laugh was infectious; soon he was chuckling too without knowing why.

“Land sakes, Daniel, you need to get to work.”

He looked at his watch. “I still have time—”

She was shaking her head at him. “I wasn't talking about your job, I was talking about Megan. You need to get to work building your relationship with the girl; otherwise, she'll think you're only interested in one thing—and whether or not that's true at the moment, if you want your relationship to last, you need to build that foundation on solid ground.”

Her words sank in and made sense.

“She needs you to give her a reason to trust you.”

“Too late.”

She hugged him and then smacked him in the back of the head. “It's never too late to trust her with your past, so she can understand why you are acting like a complete idiot right now.”

He stared at her, wanting to tell her to mind her own business, but knew he wouldn't because Aunt Trudi was right. “I guess I am.”

“And that, my dear, is half the battle. Once you've talked to Megan, come back and I'll tell you what else you need to know about her.”

“Why can't you tell me now?”

“If you don't get going, I just might not tell you. Now get to school so I don't have to hear from the Board of Education that my recommendation for their phys ed teacher isn't reliable.”

He bent and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Aunt Trudi. See you in the morning!”

He thought about his aunt's words in between classes and before practice. They had an away game tonight against Newark High, so he wouldn't have a chance to have a talk with Meg until after the game. He couldn't afford to be distracted. He owed his team his full concentration, and whenever he started to think about Meg, he simply lost all perspective.

Setting thoughts of the fiery, auburn-haired distraction aside, he focused on getting the team to work together and perfect their skills.

***

Grace cornered Meg in the shop. “Sooo… spill.”

Meg was still jittery from chocolate overload the night before and not in the best of moods. She pretended she had no idea what her sister meant. “About what?”

Her sister flushed, a sure sign that her Irish was up. Grace's next words confirmed Meg's suspicion. “You know what I'm talking about.”

Meg pretended not to notice and prodded her sister to lose her temper. “I think we'll need to reorder some pipe dope and some roofing tar—”

Grace's eyes flashed a warning, although her voice remained calm, “Don't be difficult.”

“Just following your strict reorder policy, Sis. When I use something up, I'm supposed to tell you about it.”

“Damn it, Meg, what's going on with that hunkalicious soccer coach?”

Caitlin walked in and grinned. “Need a referee?”

“We're not fighting,” Meg told her.

“We're about to,” Grace bit out. “Meg won't talk about Dan.”

“Ah,” Caitlin said. “The hometown hero.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “I'm not having this conversation with you, Grace.”

Her sister put her hands on her hips and got in Meg's way. Instead of sinking to Grace's level, she stepped around her younger sister and waved. “I've got to go. Got a dinner date tonight.”

“With Dan?” Grace called out.

Meg didn't even bother to turn around. As she got into her dad's truck, she sighed. “There isn't anything new going around about us.”

Rather than sink into a depression, she realized that she'd better get a move on if she was going to pick up Honey B. and drive over to the soccer game in Newark. It wasn't that she wanted to see Dan that much—well, OK, she really did want to see him and it was definitely a side benefit, but Honey B. had asked her to double date with Pat Garahan and one of his coworkers from the firehouse the other day before she and Dan has sorted things out. How could she say no when Honey B. was always there for her? Besides, she'd promised that she'd have Honey B.'s back when her friend had decided to do this online dating thing.

Meg switched to hands-free mode and dialed Honey B. When her friend answered, she said, “I'll be there in five.”

“Great. I'm wearing my navy blue wrap dress. Want to wear the black one?”

Pat had already seen Honey B. wear the black dress, so it didn't really matter if Meg wore it tonight. She wasn't out to impress anyone—well, anyone at the restaurant, but maybe afterward, when she got back to Apple Grove, if she could convince Dan to come on over. But that would remain to be seen. She reminded herself that she was going as a favor to Honey B. and concentrated on that. “Only if I can borrow your shoes again.”

“One of these days, Meg, I'm dragging you shopping.”

Meg laughed. “Many before you have tried.”

She pulled up out back and dashed inside. Honey B. was holding out the dress, but when she got a good look at Megan she shrieked. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

Meg looked down at herself and sighed. She'd forgotten about the rotten gutter that had broken when she was doing a repair on the Peterson's front light. “Long story—”

“Never mind that now. I'll call Pat and tell him we'll be a little late. You go grab a quick shower.”

Meg didn't stop to ask questions; she dashed to the far back of Honey B.'s shop and closed the door. She'd stripped and was under the hot spray in the miniscule shower stall when she heard her friend call out, “I left a towel on the toilet seat.”

“Be right out.”

True to her word, she was washed, dried, and dressed in under ten minutes. “Good thing I don't need any makeup; it'll save time.”

Honey B. drew in a breath and huffed, “I'll drive and you'll borrow my mascara, blush, and lip gloss. No way are you going to show up looking like a teenager.”

“Jeez, you're bossy.”

A half hour later they'd parked next to the field. “They're already playing,” Honey B. said as she got out. “Come on.”

Meg looked down at her form-fitting black dress and spiky heels and wondered when her friend had lost her mind. She rolled down the window. “I'll wait here.”

Honey B. stopped, spun around, and stalked back over to the car. “You are coming with me. I didn't drag you here to let you sit in the car. I'm not entertaining Pat and his friend… whatever his name is by myself.” She glared at Meg. “You promised.”

Meg sighed. “I hate dresses.”

Honey B. opened the door and soothed, “I know you do, but you're doing this for the greater good.”

“Yeah,” Meg grumbled. “Yours.”

“You got that right.” Honey B. laughed and waved. “There they are—whoa. Hold on to your hairpins, girlfriend. Tall, dark, and gorgeous at three o'clock.”

Meg got out and stood next to Honey B. When Meg's mouth finally closed, she leaned close and whispered, “Holy crap.”

Honey B. frowned at her. “For Pete's sake, Meg, remember what I said about first impressions.”

“Honey, Megan,” Pat said, walking toward them. “You ladies look great!” He grinned and turned to his friend. “Mike, these are the ladies I was telling you about.”

Mike was tall and broad; his muscles had muscles. “I'm glad to see that for once Garahan didn't exaggerate.” His eyes twinkled as his smile broadened. “You ladies are everything he promised and more.”

“Knock it off, Snelling, don't embarrass my new friends.” Pat turned toward Honey B. and Meg and sighed. “Mike's got a big mouth but there's not another firefighter I'd rather have watching my back.”

They all laughed, and Meg noticed that even though Mike couldn't keep his eyes off of Honey B., her friend was friendly and attentive, as always, but that was it. There was only one man that lit that special spark between himself and Honey B. Whenever Honey B. and the sheriff were within ten feet of one another, those two could start a brush fire with one look.
Dan
was
right.

“How's the game going?” she asked.

Pat's face looked serious as he told her, “No score. The teams are evenly matched so far. We'll see how things go once the players start getting tired.”

While she and Pat watched the game, Mike kept Honey B. busy talking. Meg didn't mind; she was more interested in the outcome of the soccer game anyway. When the ball shot past them to the other end of the field, she knew Dan had seen her standing on the sidelines, but he ignored her.

As if Honey B. could read her mind, she leaned close and whispered, “He's here as a coach. Don't distract him.”

Meg smiled as her friend had intended.

“Whoa, yellow card!” Pat grumbled. “Kid should have known better than to take the Apple Grove player out from behind. Whether he meant to or not is something he and his coach will be talking about later.”

Meg didn't know much about soccer; she knew more about baseball. “Is a yellow card bad?”

Pat nodded. “It's a warning from the ref. One more and the player could receive a red card and be out for the rest of this game and all of the next.”

“But aren't there enough players to substitute?”