Chapter Thirteen
Rance kept casting, reeling in, casting again.
He had moved down the bank a bit to try his luck in a quieter, slow-moving pond off the main river channel.
It wasn’t that he was such an avid fisherman, but it was because he needed to do something that steadied his brain, slowed his processing down.
And it kept enough space between him and Erin.
The fact that this whole situation had changed somehow over the advent of one kiss…
and then a couple of others. It was frying his brain.
He had shared a lot of kisses over his lifetime so far.
Not that he was a dating Romeo or anything, but he did have his fair share of female admirers.
But none had made him seriously think about other things like rings, a cozy cottage, kids.
That wasn’t him. And it wasn’t so much he was having those thoughts now; it was just something different going on.
Why it should happen after kissing Erin Latham of all people…
he had no idea. She wasn’t his type. Okay, she was beautiful.
And very smart. Maybe not as stuck-up or snobbish as he first thought.
So, he was wrong about that. And the woman could…
and did…cook. She didn’t leave it to servants.
Her family life left a lot to be desired.
Yet she still made it on her own terms in the end.
He had to hand it to her. But he still shouldn’t have kissed her.
It was silly spending so much time dwelling on that fact.
The way she had moved on from it…like nothing happened of any importance to her, should be the motivation that he should do the same.
It didn’t ruin her day or anything. So why couldn’t he let it go?
The answer felt like it was right there stuck in his brain, but he couldn’t get it out in the open.
That was irritating. And the peace he usually could find by casting his line out and destressing, was not working. That was doubly irritating.
*
Fishing. What is so great about fishing?
She checked out the window and Rance was still in the same spot he was a half hour ago.
She had at least done something with her time.
Unpacked. Dusted the coffee and side tables in the living room.
Restacked the games and magazines neatly on their shelves.
And even cleaned the counter tops in the kitchen.
That was using time wisely and accomplishing something.
She had something to show for her time. Erin shook her head, noting once again in a glance outside that the man had not moved.
And she didn’t see any sign of fish having been caught.
She opened the refrigerator and stared at the contents.
Her mind wandered. Was this what they called cabin fever?
At least at Primrose, she felt she had something to do.
And when they went in to help at the café, she did have something to do.
But now? She was standing and staring at the insides of a refrigerator, taking mental note of the jar of pickles, container of butter, two bottles of salad dressing, a fresh carton of milk, a dozen eggs, a casserole dish she would heat in a few minutes, and other less than enthralling condiments and containers.
This was what her life had come down to. She shut the door on a deep sigh.
A few minutes later, Erin stepped out onto the deck. She went over and stood on the edge of the structure, not saying anything. A full five minutes passed.
“You bored?”
She looked at the speaker, but his gaze was still on the bobbing cork in the water. “Not really. Why? Do I look bored?”
“Well, that’s the third long sigh I’ve heard since you came out.”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing your fishing prowess.”
“You’re not.”
“I see that,” she said, nodding at the still-empty stringer.
“You don’t always go fishing just to catch a fish or two. It’s also about peace and quiet and letting go of stress. The motions involved in fishing are good for those things and clearing your mind of all sorts of thoughts.”
“Really?” There was skepticism in her tone. “Guess I was concentrating too hard when I tried it before.”
“Yes, really,” he responded. Then he turned to face her. “I dare you to try it again and see that it is true.” He held out his rod and reel. His expression said he doubted she would take the dare. And that was all it took.
“I accept the dare.” She joined him on the riverbank, pushing the sleeves of her shirt upward on each arm, determination on her face.
“Okay, so let’s see what you got.” He stepped to stand behind her…very close behind her. There was a pause in her bravado. But no turning back. She reached for the reel, but he held it back.
“Carefully,” he instructed, “a good rod and reel deserve respect and handling with care.” He held the reel out to her and nodded as she reached out slowly and grasped the reel with one hand. “Nope, mine is heavier than the one you used before, so use both hands to get it under control.”
She did as instructed. And to her surprise, he was right. It weighed more than she had first thought.
“Okay, now get a grip on it in your left hand.”
“But I’m right-handed,” she pointed out.
“I know, but you have more control of the reel in the left as you have to manipulate the line with your right hand.”
Erin didn’t think that was correct. But she tried it his way. It was awkward. And the weight was not pleasant in her left hand.
“I think this would work much better the other way,” she said, and decided to change things around, which only served to cause the reel to move and begin to bobble around while she tried to catch it, letting the line go and the switch had not been set on the reel, so the weight began spinning the reel and the line began growing in length.
She tried to stop it but that’s when he reached for it, too, and she wanted to correct it herself.
So she moved to her side and then everything went out of her hands and while he tried to catch it, they bumped into each other and before they could avoid it, the rod and reel went one way into the water, and then Erin slipped on the wet riverbank and let out a cry, which made Rance forget the fishing rod and try to grab for her arm, only he began to slip and lost his balance and there was a big splash as Erin felt the coldness of the spring water hit her full force and then another wave of it hit her when Rance landed in the water beside her.
The quiet and stress relief theory of fishing went by the wayside.
The depth was such that, once they got on their feet, they could stand and try to get back onto the riverbank.
He made it first, but she was mad. Without thinking she reached for his belt to pull him back and leverage herself at the same time.
All she accomplished was to have him slide backwards, throwing him balance-off, and he landed on top of her.
She received a gulp of river water for her work. She came up spluttering.
“You tried to drown me! Are you crazy?!” She spat the words out along with the water. Her hair hung over her face, and she tried to remove it so she could see. But her hands had hit the river bottom, and they were coated in mud as she jerked them up and tried to rearrange her hair.
“I’m not trying to drown you! Let me get up there and help you out.”
“I don’t need your help. That’s what got us in here to begin with—your help!” She pushed past his outstretched hands and crawled up the bank on her hands and knees. He stood in the water watching.
Erin finally was able to stand up, and she turned in his direction. Before she could speak, the man burst out in a huge belly roar of a laugh that stopped her still. Her hands went to her hips, and her anger was in the tapping of her foot…in the mud.
“What is so darn amusing?”
He had to take a couple tries to gain some composure to speak through the laughter.
Finally, he found his voice. “You…you are so amusing. You can’t see yourself but the mud on your face.
” He had to allow more laughter to escape before continuing, “You wiped at it but it is a perfect racoon mask.” Then he burst into laughter again.
Erin felt both angry and embarrassed. So, what did she do?
She stomped both her feet, lost her balance again, and went into the water…
again. Then the laughter stopped. She threw her wet hair back over her shoulder and turned to glare at him, but he was up and on the bank.
Only instead of his laughter, he held out his hand toward her.
“Seriously, give me your hand and let’s get you up here and then you can hit a hot shower.”
Hot shower…those were magic words. Honestly, Erin felt she might not ever get all the mud out of her hair and from every other body part.
She looked at the hand still outstretched.
But he had laughed…and laughed hard. He hadn’t apologized.
She should take his offer. Erin moved closer to the bank.
Her hand reached for his; he grasped it with both of his.
Then he pulled and out of the water she came.
Once more on the bank, she smiled. “I really should thank you.”
And he was caught off guard by her smile. And that was the moment she chose to give him a huge push, while he was off his guard and down he went into another splash.
This time, she turned and gave him her best version of a runway walk, head held high and soggy tennis shoes sloshing their way across the deck. And she laughed the whole way.
*
Rance had just had his shower, and, with a change of clean jeans and red pullover, he had some semblance of a clearheaded person again.
Then the phone rang. And his heart did a strange number when he realized it was the captain calling.
He sat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath in, and then answered.
“Captain, how goes it?”