Love Is All Around (25 page)

Patsy was too surprised to ask all the questions that were swirling around in her mind. Foremost being why Will was doing this and why she hadn’t known about it.

“So, you gonna help?” Tilde prompted.

“When’s the opening?” Patsy asked.

“Daisy Daze. The reporter’s coming for the festival, and we’re having a special booth for Daisy Gal merchants. It’d be nice to have… What you think?” She looked at Granny. “Twenty or so baskets?”

At Patsy’s startled look, she backpedaled. “Well, maybe five or six would do it, but give us some variety, and be creative. We don’t want a bunch of this.” She brushed the simple round basket away from her.

Patsy wasn’t sure how it happened, but she thought she might be working for her aunt. How was she going to do that and still get the website for Sunrise done? She knew Will would be the end of her dream to leave Daisy Creek, and here he was getting in her way again without even being present. She glanced at her grandmother, who took a sip of tea and leaned back with a satisfied smile.

Chapter 15

Will took another long drag of tea. Thanks to Tilde’s efforts, he had more merchandise than he could house. Pretty soon he was going to have to get commercial space. He had never imagined so many handmade crafts existed—jewelry, kitchen collectibles, knives, and miniature antique tools. The list was interminable, but the best part was how enthusiastic everyone was. Not a single person he or Tilde had approached had turned them down. Everyone wanted their handiwork featured on Daisy Gal.

His dream was coming true. He had a business that mattered, that made people happy. That made him happy.

He picked up a tiny dining room set and wrapped it in tissue. Yes, he was happy. As happy as he could be, anyway. His mind drifted to Patsy, looking prim and proper in her good-girl dress at church. What made her so hard to forget?

When Ruthann asked for his help with what he knew instantly was Patsy’s plan, he’d jumped at the chance. He’d been determined to take any opportunity to remind her of their attraction—even in church in front of her grandmother and a three-year-old boy. It was sick.

He had sunk beyond low.

He couldn’t search her out again.

It was time to concentrate on Daisy Gal the business, and forget Daisy Gal the woman. A simple enough task, except for one small problem—he was falling in love with the daisy gal he should be forgetting.

o0o

Patsy twisted the bell next to Will’s front door. It had been three days since Tilde and Granny had roped her into making baskets. She’d stayed up till midnight every night trying to fit everything in. And finally, the website for Sunrise was almost complete.

Glenn had called this morning, and he didn’t sound happy. “Sunrise is looking for the site, where is it?”

Patsy explained that some family issues had come up, but she was almost done. Stretching the truth was becoming staggeringly easy. She assured him she would upload the site later today. And she would, truly, after one final run-through. She had to make sure all the code worked, photos appeared where they were supposed to, things like that. She wasn’t procrastinating, not really.

Glenn sounded a little unsure, but not too annoyed. He just reminded her that a job with Sunrise was riding on this. “Get it right, but don’t waste too much time. You don’t want them to think you can’t follow a deadline.”

Patsy would make a decision today. The site was nice. It was time to move on.

Patsy slumped against Will’s door. After Glenn’s call, she’d told Granny she might be getting a job offer. Granny’s enthusiasm was akin to getting socks for Christmas—socks with holes. Her grandmother obviously hoped basket weaving would divert Patsy from her plans to leave Daisy Creek.

It was nice weaving again. She’d finished one basket and was starting on a second, the picnic basket. Patsy wouldn’t admit it to her grandmother, but she was eager to get started. First she wanted to talk to Will though, and, if she was being honest with herself, not just to hear about daisygal.com.

She missed him. There had to be some way they could see each other without complicating her plans to leave. She’d expected to hear from him after operation Rescue Ruthann, what with the electricity that had surged between them, but nothing. She’d even prepared an easy-letdown speech, let’s be friends and all that jazz. Guess he didn’t need it. Maybe he’d found someone else to share all that electricity with.

Leaning over, she peered in the front window. No clue as to what had been keeping him too busy to call. No half-finished projects, stacks of papers, or bras dangling from the chandelier. That was good, anyway.

“He ain’t going to be home for another half-hour or so.” Patsy jumped at her brother’s voice. Dwayne struggled up the steps, weighed down with an oversized box. He propped it on the porch railing and took a deep breath. “What you doing here anyway?”

“Nothing.” Patsy frowned at her brother. “What are you doing here?”

“Delivering.” He nodded at the box. “Tilde told me to drop off my stuff so Will could start photographing it.”

“You’re putting carvings on the site?”

“Yeah, why not? They’ll sell as well as anything else, I figure.” He pulled a miniature coon dog out of the box. “‘Sides, I got enough of them lying around. Might as well get rid of some. Here, take this.” He shoved the box into her arms.

As Patsy teetered under the weight, he sprinted down the steps, back to his truck. She lowered the box onto the porch swing and walked to the railing to watch him. He strode back with two of their father’s chainsaw carvings under his arms. He plopped one down.

“What do you think?”

It was Ralph, with Pugnacious attached to his ear. “Dad made it for Will. As a thank you for…” He motioned to the box. “You know.”

Patsy didn’t know. Dwayne talked like Will and her family had been working together for weeks. Why hadn’t she known about this? She was the one who was into the Internet, and she was as much into Ozark crafts as any of them. How could Will talk with her family and leave her out?

“You going to be here a while?” Dwayne asked.

“I guess.” She didn’t have anywhere else to be, and now, more than ever, she wanted to talk with Will.

Dwayne left after unloading five more chainsaw carvings. Patsy pushed the box of smaller pieces to the side and sat down on the swing. Twenty minutes later, Will’s BMW pulled into the drive.

He hopped out of the car, a small plastic box tucked under one arm. His steps slowed as he approached the porch and saw her waiting.

“Patsy.” He looked at the collection of carvings that filled the space between the steps and the door. “You dropping stuff off?”

“No, Dwayne did. I just told him I’d wait for you.” A water spot on the swing’s arm grabbed her attention. After licking her finger, she concentrated on rubbing it off.

“Oh…” He dug out his key and unlocked the door. “Well, I can get it if you’ve got somewhere you need to go.”

He was awfully indifferent for someone who’d been blowing in her ear during Sunday services. Annoyed, she picked up a chainsaw beaver and staggered in the door. “Where do you want this?”

“What? Geez, let me take that.” He grabbed the statue and walked into the turret. Patsy followed.

The round room was packed with boxes. An assortment of handmade crafts poked out of them. He set the beaver down and turned back to the door. The expression on his face said he was less than happy to see she’d followed.

What was up with him? To cover her confusion, she said, “Wow. I had no idea.” She walked to a box that emitted a relaxing scent.

“Lavender soap. There are sachets too.” Will kicked the box under it.

“What’s that?” Patsy pointed to the plastic tote he still held.

“Flies.” He flipped open the lid. “Hand-tied fishing flies.” He stroked a yellow-and-black one with the pad of his finger. “Plenty of people will pay big bucks for these babies. Can you believe the man who makes them has been selling them for a couple of dollars each?”

Looking at the creations of snarled thread, Patsy believed it. “So, you’re serious about this?” He couldn’t really be this excited about carvings, sachets, and flies.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. I mean, what’s in it for you? Maybe you can make a little on those flies, but the rest of this stuff?” She gestured to the boxes surrounding them. “You don’t really think you’re going to make a profit on it, do you? I mean, once you pay for space and advertising and everything else Tilde said you have planned, there won’t be any money left.”

Will chuckled. “I’ve done this before, you know.”

“Not selling this kind of thing.” Patsy picked up a hand-hooked rug. “How much money can there be in it?”

He took the rug, folded it, and laid it to the side. “You might be surprised. Have you ever shopped for quality handmade crafts?”

Patsy hadn’t, but she thought Will was being incredibly naïve. “No, and there’s a reason right there why it won’t work. Why buy something handmade when you can get the same thing for a third the price at BiggeeMart?”

“Because it’s not the same thing, it’s better.”

She looked at him, standing there all superior and confident, talking to her like she didn’t understand. She’d lived here her whole life. He was the one who didn’t understand.

“Yeah, and that’s why there aren’t any factory jobs anymore. People don’t care about quality as much as they do price. If that weren’t true, Daisy Creek would still have the shoe factory and the uniform factory, and Dwayne wouldn’t be about to lose his job cutting.”

Will frowned. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Sure it’s the same thing.” She picked up a bar of the soap, took a sniff, and dropped it back in the box. “You’re just getting everyone’s hopes up that there’s something else out there for them, something they can do here in Daisy Creek. It won’t work out, and they’ll be right back where they started. It’s not right.”

“Giving people hope isn’t right?” His voice was tense.

“Not if that’s all it is. It’s better to never have hope than to have it and get it crushed right in front of you. That’s a pain that’s hard to get rid of.”

“I don’t understand you.” Tension was giving over to anger. “I’m offering people an opportunity to do something they love and make a little extra cash in the process. What’s wrong with that?”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the turret.

He didn’t understand. He’d never had a dream squashed by reality. Patsy had. She didn’t want to see it happen to somebody else. She ran her hand over the rug. The motion was soothing, the wool slightly coarse. She spread the rug out, admiring the design. A boxy cabin sat nestled against a rainbow. It made her smile, a simple setting, but filled with hope.

Maybe he was right. He wasn’t promising people anything more than a chance to make a little extra money. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe there was room for some hope. After refolding the rug, she trudged back to the foyer.

“I’m making baskets.”

Will paused in unpacking the box of figurines Dwayne had dropped off. “What?”

“Baskets. I make baskets, at least I used to. Tilde and Granny talked me into making some for the site.”

“Really? I didn’t know you did that. You’ve never talked about it.” His annoyance faded into warmth. Patsy didn’t want the mood to pass, wanted to stay immersed in this moment.

“There was never any reason. There isn’t much use for it. I used to sell them at craft shows and to a few locals on special orders, but it didn’t pay for more than my materials. Then I got busy learning web design.” She picked up a figure of a trout jumping out of the water. “Besides, you’ve seen one at least… the picnic basket from the river.”

“You made that?” He looked surprised, and impressed.

“Yeah.” Suddenly Patsy felt shy. He’d admired it that day, but his approval was more important now.

“It was beautiful.” Will touched her hand that held the trout.

Patsy tipped her head up, smiling at him. “Thanks.”

“I mean it…” He ran his hand up her arm. “Patsy, about the other day…”

She wavered for a moment. The spell between them was so alluring. She didn’t want to lose this closeness, but she had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them to pretend.

“Let’s just forget it, okay?” She stepped toward the box and laid the trout down. “What I said still holds. I’m leaving Daisy Creek, and you’re staying. Getting involved will just complicate things.” She said it softly, hoping to keep an ember of the intimacy going, but his face shuttered closed.

“We can be friends though.” Her voice quavered. “And I’d like to help you with the site. If you’d like the help, that is.”

 “I thought you didn’t like the idea.” His eyes were unreadable, his voice cold. It hurt, made her nervous.

“I was being hasty. You’re not promising anybody anything, just a chance at a little extra cash, like you said.” Don’t be angry. Don’t block me out.

He seemed to weigh her words. “So what do you want to do?”

She picked up another figurine, this one of a dog sitting beside an outhouse. She twisted it in her hands. “I don’t know. I could help take pictures or work on the design, whatever. Based on what Tilde said, you’ve got a lot to get done in the next month.” She shrugged. “I just thought I’d offer.”

He stared at her for a heartbeat. “Sure. You can never have too many friends or too much help, right?”

“Right.” Patsy felt as pathetic as last year’s prom dress.

o0o

Patsy spent the next few days finishing the Sunrise site, then dedicated herself to working on baskets, photographing crafts with Tilde, and scanning groceries. She was exhausted.

Her new picnic basket was turning out great though. She’d even talked Dwayne into carving daisy handles onto the wood flaps she would attach to the top. She couldn’t wait to show it to Will tonight.

He was coming to dinner. Granny had invited him, and Patsy was looking forward to it. She told herself it was just nice to have someone her age who liked the things she liked, even admired her work. The sexual stuff might still be there, but now that Will understood her boundaries, she could keep things platonic.