Danny managed to catch himself a second before he made bodily contact with the customer who was entering the donut shop at that exact moment.
Annie swallowed a gasp. Instinct took over and rather than stepping back out of harm’s way, her hands flew out to him, anticipating his fall.
Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she asked him, “Are you okay?”
Dan caught himself grinning like a kid who’d stumbled across Christmas presents in the closet in October.
“You came,” he exclaimed. “I’m terrific.”
Anne stepped inside the coffee shop to get out of people’s way.
“You were leaving, weren’t you?” It wasn’t a question; it was an assumption. She flushed just a tad. Her heart slowly began to settle down. “I’m sorry I’m so late, but things went a little crazy at the clinic.”
Dan nodded understandingly. “I figured as much,” he told her. Now that Annie was here, he didn’t want her to waste any time with needless apologies. “I ordered for us. I’m afraid the coffee’s probably cold, but the pastries are still fresh.”
Annie smiled. “No problem. I love cold coffee.”
She said it so that Danny wouldn’t feel bad, but the truth of it was she really did like coffee no matter what state it was in.
Placing his hand against the small of her back, he steered Annie toward the little table he’d just occupied for the last forty-five minutes.
As he approached, he saw that one of the people from behind the counter was beginning to clear away the coffees and pastries.
“No, hey, wait,” he called out to the woman, “I wasn’t done with that.”
The waitress immediately deposited the dishes of pastries back onto the table. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I saw you leaving.”
“No, I was just going to get a little air.” He pretended to inhale. “You’ve got great air here in Montana. Crisp and clean.”
The waitress looked at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.
“It’s cold,” was all she would say about it. Putting the closed containers of coffee back on the table, the woman withdrew.
As she did, she gave Annie a warning look. “I’d watch myself around him if I were you.”
“I fully intend to,” Annie answered with a smile, looking at Danny and not the waitress. “Do you want to take those somewhere and eat?” she asked him, thinking that he would probably like to get out of the little shop.
“No, she’s right. Montana’s cold. You don’t want to spend your lunch hour sitting in a Jeep, shivering.” He pulled out her chair for her, then took his own after taking off his jacket and draping it on the back of the chair. “So,” he started, amicably, giving her his full attention, “what happened?”
“What happened?” she echoed, not quite sure what he was asking her about.
“To make you late,” he prodded.
Annie waved his question away. It was just the usual work stuff, compounded. She had no desire to bore him to death.
“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my morning.”
“Sure I do,” he told her with feeling. “It’s got to be more interesting than standing outside in the cold, fixing twenty feet of fencing.”
“Well,” she allowed, “I guess it was warmer at any rate.”
He smiled at Annie, watching the way the rays of sun played off her hair, turning the blond strands into gold. “Sounds more interesting already.”
Annie’s expression was somewhat dubious as she looked at him. “All right,” she agreed, “but remember, you asked for this.”
“You won’t hear one single word of complaint,” he promised, making an elaborate show of crossing his heart with the hand that wasn’t holding a cream-filled chocolate donut.
Annie laughed and the sound was like music to his ears.
* * *
The next fifty minutes passed much too quickly. Annie did most of the talking and it was as if they had regained some of their former relationship, at least a little of the ease that they had once felt around one another.
And then, just as she finished the last of her pastry, he told her, “You’d better be getting back.” Annie looked at him, puzzled. “Your lunch break is almost over,” he explained.
“You’re keeping track?” she asked, surprised. She hadn’t seen him look down at his watch.
He nodded. “I didn’t want you to be late two days in a row,” he told her, rising and coming around behind her chair. He held it as he helped her out of it.
Bemused, Annie asked, “You actually timed this?”
He couldn’t tell if she was amused or offended by his action. All he could do was restate his reason. “Like I said, I didn’t want you to be late getting back again because of me.”
As they walked out of the shop, Danny held the door open for her. She smiled at him as she crossed the threshold.
“What?” he asked. He needed to know why she was smiling so he could do whatever it was again. “Do I have some cream filling on my face?”
Annie shook her head. “No.”
“Then why are you looking at me that way?” he wanted to know.
“It’s nice to know that there’s a little of the old Danny still left inside you.”
There were times when he really doubted that, even though he had done his best not to let what had happened—what he had caused to happen—bury him in despair. “What makes you say that?”
“Because someone else would not have gone through the trouble of keeping track of the time, or worrying about me being late getting back to work.” There was a fond look in her eyes as she said, “But the old Danny would have. And you did.”
They were by her car now and Dan realized this was the last moment he was going to spend with her for at least a while. A feeling of sadness corkscrewed through him.
“Terminal nice guy, that’s me,” Danny responded with just a touch of sarcasm.
She saw that the sadness in his eyes that had been missing for a little while as they’d talked in the donut shop was back. She wanted to erase it even though she told herself it shouldn’t matter to her one way or another.
“Nothing wrong with being a nice guy,” she told him softly.
He made no comment. Instead, he told her, “This was nice. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
She noticed that he didn’t say anything definite the way he had yesterday. Was he afraid of committing himself to something specific?
“I’d like that,” Annie told him. “But right now, I have to go.”
“Right.”
Dan stepped back, although in reality, he wasn’t blocking her from her car. Annie’s vehicle was right behind her, a ten-year-old pickup truck whose paint was fading in several places. The step back he’d taken was more symbolic than actually necessary. He didn’t want to seem as if he was trying to detain her for even an extra minute.
“I’ll see you, Annie,” he said as she got into her truck.
“I hope so,” she answered just before she started up her vehicle and pulled away.
Danny lost no time in getting into his Jeep. He’d told Jamie he’d be back in plenty of time to help him fix the north gate. He intended to keep his word.
I hope so.
The words echoed in his head all the way back to Jamie’s. It accompanied the smile that was on his face.
* * *
“So things are going well?” Jamie asked, eyeing Dan over the gate that they were trying to put back up after they’d mended it.
Jamie had waited to ask his question for what he thought was a decent amount of time after Danny had gotten back from town. He was proud of himself for not immediately jumping on his brother to pump Danny for information.
“Yeah, I just about got this gate straight,” Danny answered, grunting for effect.
“I’m not talking about the stupid gate,” Jamie said in exasperation.
Waiting until he had hammered the three nails he’d been holding in his teeth to the two sides of the gate, Dan looked at his brother with mock innocence and asked, “Then what are you talking about?”
Jamie scowled. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, Danny. Those trips of yours into town.”
“Oh yeah. I’m really beginning to find my way around town again.”
Jamie thought he’d been patient long enough.
“I’m holding a hammer, Danny,” he told him, grasping the tool harder, “and I know how to use it.”
Danny gave him a look as he held up his hammer. “That makes two of us, brother,” he answered.
“So she shut you out?” Jamie asked, assuming the only thing he could since Danny wasn’t saying that things had gone at least moderately well. “Hey, Danny, I’m sorry. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to—”
“You want to work or you want to gossip?” Danny wanted to know.
“What I want is to work and to have a conversation with my brother while I’m working,” Jamie answered.
Danny sighed. He supposed he owed Jamie this much. “It’s going well enough. There, you satisfied?” he asked, looking at Jamie pointedly.
Jamie was light years away from being satisfied. “What do you mean by ‘well enough’?”
Danny sighed again. “You’re worse than Old Mrs. McKinley, you know that?” The woman their mother had known years ago had loved to gossip and to ferret out information about people. Some people had felt that it was her whole life.
Jamie looked annoyed by the comparison. “You’re my brother. Forgive me for caring,” he retorted.
Danny pressed his lips together, debating what to do. He knew he was being secretive about something that was most likely general public knowledge, at least to anyone who lived in town.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m afraid if I say anything at all about it, then it will no longer be the truth.”
Jamie saw through the flimsy excuse. “You mean you’re afraid of jinxing it.”
The game was up. Danny felt he might as well relent. “Something like that.”
“Since when did you get so superstitious?” Jamie wanted to know.
“I didn’t realize I was until just now,” Danny admitted. “And to answer your question, it’s been going well enough.” He paused, searching for something more to give Jamie. There really wasn’t anything. “Baby steps,” he finally told his brother. “The whole thing is progressing with baby steps.”
Jamie nodded. “Sounds hopeful.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Danny allowed. He didn’t want to say anything more about it at the moment. To him, the whole thing was very fragile in nature and he didn’t want to count on it too much one way or another. “Now if you want to finish this gate before the triplets are ready to start high school, I suggest you talk less and work more.”
Jamie laughed. Now that sounded like the old Danny. “Welcome back, brother.”
Danny merely grunted as he hammered.
* * *
“Is that guy your old boyfriend?” Janie asked that evening as she was helping her mother clear the table after they’d had dinner.
The question had come out of nowhere and caught Anne totally off guard. Gathering up the utensils from the table, she forced herself to make eye contact with her daughter.
“Who are you talking about?” she asked, although she knew full well there could only be one person that Janie was referring to.
Janie gave her an impatient look that preteen daughters had been giving their mothers since the very beginning of time.
“That guy that came to see you last week before Dad came to pick me up.”
Rather than give Janie an answer, she deflected with a question of her own. “Just what makes you ask something like that?”
Janie pursed her lips together as if the answer was self-evident. “You had a funny look on your face when you were talking to him.”
“I was just surprised to see him,” Anne said, thinking fast. “He hasn’t been in Rust Creek Falls for a long time.”
“Then he wasn’t your old boyfriend?” Janie asked, clearly wanting an answer one way or another.
Anne turned to load the dishwasher. She didn’t want to lie to her daughter, but she really didn’t want to get into this at the present time. “Why do you want to know?”
Janie gave her an annoyed look. “Because I want you and Dad to get back together and you can’t do that if your old boyfriend is hanging around, getting you all dreamy-eyed and stuff,” she said in disgust.
“Honey, your dad and I aren’t going to get back together,” Anne said, repeating what she’d already told her daughter more than once. “But we still both love you very much. As for Danny, I knew him a long time ago. Before I met your father,” she added. “Do you like him?”
Janie shrugged. “He’s okay I guess. For an old guy.”
Ouch, that stung, Anne thought. “He’s the same age as I am,” she pointed out to her daughter.
“Yeah, but you’re old, too,” Janie said as she brought over the plates to the kitchen counter. “Not frumpy old,” she quickly corrected. “But old.”
Anne smiled. She couldn’t ever remember being as young as Janie. Had she said things like this at the time? She certainly hoped not.
Very tactfully, she told Janie, “Sometimes ‘old’ people like to see old friends.”
“Dad’s old,” Janie pointed out, brightening. “You can see him.”
“I do see him,” Anne replied. “When he comes by to pick you up and on the following day, when he drops you off.”
Janie’s scowl deepened. “I mean more, Mom,” she stressed. “Like you used to see him. All the time.”
Anne sighed. She knew this mode. Janie was just going to keep on harping on the subject until she either broke Anne down, or she lost her temper. Anne didn’t want to do either.
She fell back on her old standby. “Have you finished your homework for tomorrow?”
“Not yet, but—”
“Then go finish it,” Anne told her, cutting through any more rhetoric.
“But this is important, Mom,” Janie insisted, becoming irritated.
Finished loading the dishwasher, Anne measured out the detergent, put it into the proper compartment and started the cycle.
“So’s your homework,” she declared. “If you don’t do it, you’ll get left back and that’ll throw everything off. How will it look when you’re running for president and your opponent finds out you were left back in fifth grade?”
Janie sighed dramatically. It was audible over the noise of the dishwasher. “I’m not going to run for president, Mom.”
“You need to pass fifth grade no matter what you intend on doing in life,” she told her daughter matter-of-factly.
“Okay, I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” Janie declared, putting her hands over her ears to shut out any further pep talk from her mother. “I’ll do my homework so I don’t flunk out of fifth grade.”
“That’s my girl,” Anne said with a smile. She went back to cleaning up the kitchen.
“This isn’t over, you know,” Janie promised as she left the kitchen.
Anne shut her eyes as she leaned her head against the wall, struggling very hard to collect herself.
Yes, I know, she said silently.
It wasn’t going to be over until she made a full confession—to both Janie and to Danny.