Until She Met Daniel (7 page)

“You could be more gracious about the way you say things like that,” she told him, more annoyed than usual.

He seemed surprised. “You don't enjoy spending Thanksgiving with your father any more than I do.”

No, she didn't, but it was hard when Chris was so vehement about his disdain for the Jensens. Actually, for her father. He liked her mom well enough, though he claimed Karen Jensen didn't have a backbone.

Neither do I,
came the unpleasant thought. It wasn't true, but maybe she should call her husband to account more often when he was rude about her family. She just didn't want to fight about it tonight, so soon after returning from their vacation.

“They're my parents,” she reminded him. “But let's forget it for now.”

Chris's expression eased and they continued with their meal. When his leg brushed hers, she knew he was still in the mood for an early night.

A short while later, she straightened from putting the last dish in the dishwasher and pushed the door shut. His arm slipped around her waist as he pulled her against him. His lips found the sensitive part of her neck, while his hands pulled her shirt free from her skirt. He laid his hands on the bare skin of her waist.

“Definitely, let's have an early night,” she gasped, letting passion sweep away other, less pleasant thoughts.

* * *

M
ANDY
 
GLANCED
 
AT
 
her watch.

Finally.
Four o'clock, Friday afternoon.
The week had felt longer than usual. With Daniel around, she found it hard to relax and act normally—there was something about him that kept ruffling her nerves. But at least her mouth had stopped running off quite as much when he was around. Well, most of the time.

Still, things seemed to be settling down. There was no way she could avoid seeing Daniel since their offices were in the same hallway, only thirty feet apart. But he was usually busy at his desk or poking through various departments and talking with city staff members. He hadn't come over to her house again, either. She was trying to keep Mr. Spock inside, though he was becoming surly over the restriction.

Unfortunately, Daniel had annoyed a few of the seniors when he'd tried to check out the Senior Center, but she'd told them it was her fault for not making it clear that the program ran independently. After all, when she'd mentioned he wasn't her supervisor, she had been talking about helping with the paperwork, so it wasn't a totally lame assumption to think the center was still under the city's authority. Besides, he needed to know what was happening in the town, and the senior program was very important to the community.

The majority of the seniors had finally shrugged off their irritation. And while Daniel hadn't taken them up on the offer, he'd been given an open invitation to the daily senior lunch.

“Hey, Mandy.” Susan walked into the office and dropped into a chair. “Did you hear about the council meeting last night?”

“Not much. I missed out on the day's quota of gossip. We didn't have the regular senior lunch, other than delivery to the shut-ins, because almost everyone went on that bus tour down the coast.”

“You didn't go with them?”

“Buses make me nauseous, and having a dizzy passenger along can spoil everyone's fun. Besides, now I'm nicely caught up on paperwork and will hardly have to touch it next week.
Hallelujah.
So, how was the meeting?”

“Part of it was getting to know Daniel. Everyone liked him well enough, which is good, all things considered.”

Mandy remembered Susan's worries when the council had interviewed Daniel via Skype, and not in person. They'd never expected to find someone with his experience and credentials, and jumped to offer the job for fear he'd be grabbed by another town if they waited for a face-to-face meeting. Susan had questioned why someone with his qualifications and unbroken history working in large metropolitan areas would take a job so far from the city.

“It's good they like him,” Mandy said. “Did anything else happen?”

“They discussed the town's water supply. We need more, plus there was talk about a new sewer system and treatment plant.”

“Water is a problem in this part of California?” Mandy asked. “I know there are shortages down south, but I thought we were far enough north to make it the land-of-plenty when it comes to H2O.”

“It's one thing to have it come out of the sky, another through water faucets. And to be honest, sometimes it doesn't come out of the sky enough. We need to expand the reservoir or find another solution, but when I got home and told Chris about it, he became all uptight. You know how he is on the environment.”

“No joke.”

Though Susan was a decade older than Mandy, the two of them had hit it off from the beginning, and Mandy liked Susan's husband equally well. Chris Russell was a forestry and wildlife expert, working for the U.S. Forest Service, and was passionate about saving the world for his son and future generations. They'd had glorious debates on the subject, sitting on the Russells' backyard deck while eating stir-fried tofu or spinach lasagna—Chris's efforts to save the environment included being a vegetarian. That was another subject they'd debated.
She
didn't think you could call yourself a vegetarian if you still ate seafood.

Susan yawned. “I guess we'll figure it out, but I wish it hadn't come up so close to Friday night. Chris will have a hard time staying off the subject, and I'm not in the mood for hearing him rail about it for hours.”

Mandy swallowed a grin. Friday evenings were Chris and Susan's regular “date” night. They had started it a few months earlier when they'd confronted the fact that their only child would be heading to college that fall. They wanted to be sure they connected as a couple, not just as parents. It made sense to Mandy. Not that her folks had found it a problem—the elder Colsons had simply related to Mandy and her brothers as if they had already been adults, and to each other more as colleagues than husband and wife. Or that was how it had seemed to Mandy.

“Wear that black dress we found when we went shopping in Santa Rosa,” she suggested. “He might have trouble concentrating on water sources and treatment plants when he sees its plunging neckline.”

Susan's face brightened and a speculative gleam entered her eyes. “Good idea. Guess I'd better get home and give myself the full beauty treatment.”

A few minutes after Susan had left, Daniel knocked on her doorjamb. “Good afternoon.”

“Hi,” she replied. “How's it going? Getting settled at your house?”

“There isn't much to do right now. The movers don't deliver until Monday.” He paused, frowned, then turned to close the door of her office. “Listen, I couldn't help overhearing bits and pieces of discussion about the water project with your visitor.”

Mandy shrugged. She didn't expect conversations to be private, not with her door standing open. Folks who wanted things to stay confidential either closed it, the way Daniel had, or they suggested taking a walk in the park at the back of City Hall.

Now Daniel stepped closer and spoke softly, though the door was closed and few people remained in the building so late on a Friday afternoon. “It might not be a good idea to discuss the water issue with anyone.”

“Oh?” Mandy generally tried to keep an open mind, but what right did he have to try to control what people talked about? “Why?”

“It's just that it may be controversial—these things usually are.”

“Susan is a friend,” Mandy answered shortly. “We talk about stuff. Besides, meetings are public and anyone can attend. Something of this sort will be chattered about all over town.”

“But you work for City Hall,” he countered. “That puts you in a different category.”

“I thought we'd cleared this up,” she said. “I don't work for you
or
City Hall. The seniors are in charge of their own program. Fannie Snow's bequest to the city was contingent on them providing space for the Senior Center. That's all.”

Daniel stared at her with a hard-to-read expression. “All right,” he agreed in an even tone. “But you work
at
City Hall. If you say anything on the subject, people may assume you have special knowledge.”

“Nonsense,” she dismissed. “Folks around here know I don't do politics. I don't like politics. In fact, I
loathe
politics. I saw too much of it growing up.”

“Your parents are in public office?”

“Hell, no. They'd consider it a major comedown, which I personally think is a small-minded attitude. But if you think City Hall has politics, try visiting a small private college campus. My folks are both professors at Baux College in Connecticut. Dad is the department head for classical studies, and Mom teaches physics. Don't ask me how they got together with that combination. It's probably because they...uh, never mind. I love my folks, but it's easier to love them from nearly three thousand miles away.”

He shook his head. “Nonetheless, Mandy—”

“Don't say it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When someone says ‘nonetheless, Mandy' in that grave tone of voice, I'm reasonably certain they're planning to give me advice I won't take.”

“I'm not an enemy.”

“I didn't say you were. But you're telling me what I should and shouldn't talk about with friends, and I'll make that decision for myself. But don't worry, I promise to give your recommendation due consideration.”

“Thank you,” he said tightly.

“And by the way...apparently you didn't recognize my visitor's voice,” Mandy said, struggling to control a smug smile. “It was Susan Russell. She's a member of the city council, so I doubt she's going to believe I have ‘special knowledge' about any city business.”

“Oh.” Daniel had the good grace to appear embarrassed. “You're right. Well, have a good weekend.”

She was tempted to call after him with something like “nice booty, Danny,” but thought better of it. Based on his comment about her VW having itchy wheels, he wasn't totally bereft of a sense of humor, but that didn't mean it was robust, either. It was yet another reason she shouldn't spend any time thinking about how the muscles rippled over his shoulders beneath his suit. To her, a great sense of humor was absolutely essential. Even Vince had the ability to laugh...a little.

Mandy popped to her feet and stretched. Ever since Shawn had brought the blackberries earlier in the week, she'd been longing to go berry picking, as well. Now that she'd faithfully finished a few weeks' quota of paperwork, she was going to do it. Jane had given her several boxes of small canning jars, so she could even make jam. It would be the first time she'd
made
jam, but it didn't sound that hard, and she loved trying new things.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

D
ANIEL
 
WORKED
 
UNTIL
 
nearly six that evening, reviewing his handwritten notes about the city council meeting, along with his initial impressions of the people and their reactions. Finally, he put the notebook into his briefcase, figuring everyone else at City Hall had already left for the weekend. Fortunately, the custodian locked the exits at five every afternoon, so employees who departed after hours only had to make sure the door was latched behind them.

He drove to his house to change into his running clothes. He'd found a fitness trail at the county park, which was close to town. His daily runs helped ease his tensions, though he usually saw someone who knew him. Obviously, that was to be expected in such a small community.

In any case, there wasn't much else to do in Willow's Eve except read. He hadn't brought a television, so wouldn't have one until the movers arrived. He'd already finished the few books he'd brought with him—mostly he'd filled the SUV with more practical items. But the house had a formal library, and while the shelves had largely been emptied, there were a few volumes left. Primarily the classics, but that was okay. He had been in high school the last time he'd read
David Copperfield
or
Moby Dick.

It was almost disappointing that Mr. Spock hadn't come for a visit, but Daniel wasn't sure if it was the cat's presence or the anticipation of returning him to Mandy that was the draw. Not that it was necessary to personally carry the cat home; he could simply urge him out the door.

Once in his running clothes and shoes, Daniel drove south out of town to Pioneer Memorial Park. Ironically, he spotted Mandy's VW Bug in the lot. There was no way they could avoid crossing paths outside of work, but tonight wasn't an ideal occasion. He winced at the memory of their discussion earlier that afternoon—he
hadn't
recognized Susan Russell's voice and must have sounded idiotic warning Mandy to be careful about discussing the water project with her.

It was good advice in general, but lousy timing. Besides, he didn't actually
know
Mandy wouldn't be careful, and she plainly hadn't appreciated his comments, however well-intentioned. She had put up her chin in a manner that reminded him of a boxer preparing for a punch.

Why she was so defensive?

He did a series of stretching exercises before setting off on the trail, zoning out on everything except the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the earth. In a much better frame of mind after an hour, he slowed and walked the last quarter mile to cool off.

Mandy was standing by a cluster of bushes beside the trail, picking something from the branches. Before then, he'd seen her only at a distance.

She glanced up as he neared. “Hi.”

“Hello. What are you doing?” he asked.

“Picking huckleberries. I planned to get blackberries, but since I didn't suit up for war, decided to go for the less bountiful and less dangerous fruit.”

“War?”

“Have you ever
seen
blackberry bushes? They're covered with thorns—even their leaves have these little hooks on the back. My work clothes are pretty casual, but I've got some old stuff I'd rather sacrifice to the cause. I take it you've never gone berry picking?”

“'Fraid not. I grew up in the city.”

“My folks didn't introduce me to it, either. Some friends did a few years ago, when I spent a summer working at a county park. I was that person you see in the little booth, the one who takes money and gives out the map and directions.”

“You must not have liked the job,” he said politely.

“What gives you that idea?”

“You aren't still working there.”

She blinked. The early evening sunlight emphasized the amazing green color of her eyes.

“I told you, I like wandering. The job was all right, but that particular park has someone at the gate only during the summer. I wouldn't have gotten the position at all if their regular person hadn't needed emergency surgery. At the time, I was a short-order cook at a café popular with county employees. Frank was the head ranger and he offered it to me.”

“So you went to work for the park because you were bored with the café job?” he hazarded a guess.

“More or less. The people were nice, but I'd been there awhile and was tired of it—you know, the same thing over and over. Frank and I hung out together some of the time and he knew I was ready for a change. I like learning new skills.”

“From what I've heard, all those skills are helpful in your current position.”

She cocked her head. “Who said that?”

“I've been going over employment records and talking to city employees. They have a good opinion of you.”

“You talked to them about me? Why?” she demanded, and Daniel wondered if the fuse on Mandy's temper was short over specific issues, or just short in general.

“No,” he said patiently. “It simply came up in connection to the work at City Hall.”

“Oh. Why are you looking at employment records?”

“Not yours,” he clarified hastily. “They aren't in the City Hall files.”

“Okay, but why go over the files in the first place?”

“I'm trying to determine who is responsible for what, and what the line of authority is for each position.”

“If the job gets done, what difference does it make?”

“It makes a great deal of difference, and without understanding who is responsible for different tasks, there can be gaps in what gets accomplished.”

“You
do
realize that sounds a tad pompous, don't you?”

* * *

M
ANDY
 
STUDIED
 
THE
 
way Daniel set his jaw. Granted, she'd provoked him. She shouldn't have, but he'd reminded her of her twin brothers. Jess and Parker often acted like younger versions of their father, and she hoped that someday they'd bolt for greener pastures. Heck, they were only three years older than her and acted ninety. Last time she'd been home, she had done her best to rattle their cages.

But the guy in front of her wasn't one of her brothers. If he was, her breathing wouldn't quicken at the sight of him in running shorts. It was even tempting to reach up and wipe away the trickle of perspiration along Daniel's neck...possibly because it could lead to other contact. She pushed her mind away from the image.

“Sorry, that wasn't a nice thing to say,” she said promptly. “Though maybe you would consider it a compliment.”

“Why would I think being called pompous is flattering?”

“Well, when I tell Mr. Spock he's a wretched, arrogant, disgusting creature, he preens himself. Do you believe cats understand what we say?”

“I wouldn't know,” Daniel answered noncommittally.

“I imagine you're a dog person.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I think you like rules and clearly defined lines of authority. Dogs are okay with that, but cats won't even
pretend
to do what you want, although you probably don't know that since Mr. Spock is the only cat you've ever held.” She cocked her head. “But now that I think about it, you're not an animal person at all, are you?”

“I sometimes took care of a neighbor's dog while I was growing up. And there's nothing wrong with rules. They're part of what make us civilized.”

“Yeah, but—” She cut her words off and smiled broadly in a direction just beyond his left shoulder.

“Hi, Margaret. Good to see you, Ted,” Mandy said cheerfully. “I should have guessed you'd be here.”

“It's that program you sponsored on senior vitality,” the woman said. “It convinced us to make some changes.”

“Glad to hear it was helpful.”

Margaret bobbed her head at Daniel. “Good evening. We've seen you out here before, though it's always been at a distance.”

“Yes, I take a run most evenings, or sometimes in the morning.”

“I'm sure it's a good habit. My husband and I can't manage that sort of pace, but walking works well at our age.”

He nodded and Mandy wondered if Margaret had wanted him to ask how old she was, or if she would have been offended by an inquiry. Some of the seniors boasted about their ages. Mandy figured that was a good attitude—after all, they'd earned their wrinkles.

For the moment, however, Margaret had lost interest in the new city manager and was examining the berries in the small bucket hanging from Mandy's arm.

Ted Hanson peered at Daniel. “How do you like our fair city so far?”

“I'm still getting acquainted with the town, but Willow's Eve seems a very nice place,” Daniel said. He obviously knew that no one got far by spitting on someone's home.

“There isn't much to get acquainted with,” Ted admitted candidly. “It took me a while to adjust to living here again after being in Seattle for so many years.”

“You aren't longtime residents?”

“Margaret is. I was born in Willow's Eve, but I enlisted in the navy after high school, and settled in Seattle when I got out of the service. Then years later, I came back for a high school reunion. Margaret's husband was gone, and I'd lost my wife a couple of years earlier. Margaret and I hit it off, only she wouldn't move to Seattle, so I ended up where I started. Next month we're celebrating our fifth anniversary.”

“We'd best get on with our walk,” Margaret interjected. Ted waved pleasantly and they started away at a brisk pace.

Mandy relaxed as the couple moved away. Ted was fine, but Margaret was often a challenge to be around.

“They seem nice,” Daniel commented.

“Margaret can be a pain,” Mandy returned. “But if you want something done and she's in favor of it, then watch out. She's a force to be reckoned with.”

“She seems forthright.”

“Only if you can apply that description to a steamroller.”

“Steamrollers are helpful in certain situations.”

Was he considering ways to get Margaret's support for the new water project? Well, maybe it was too early for that. From what Susan had said, nothing had been decided; the city council was just exploring their options. Mandy would have asked, but didn't know how Daniel felt about discussing work away from the office, and she was still rather miffed about his “advice” not to discuss the subject with people in town.

Daniel slapped a mosquito on his arm, and she scrunched her nose at the smear of blood on his skin.

“It must have been drinking at your well for a while,” she murmured.

“Or someone else's. Does the sight of blood make you squeamish?”

“A little,” she confessed, digging a clean tissue out of her pocket. “Here.”

Obligingly, he wiped his arm. “I'll stick this in the trash on my way home. See you on Monday. Have a nice weekend.”

“You, too. Mine is going to be all about berries and making jam. I'll be a regular pioneer woman, which fits this area, don't you think?”

* * *

D
ANIEL
 
NODDED
 
AND
 
walked on, oddly sorry the encounter with Mandy was over. There always seemed to be abundant energy around her.

A sudden, surprising impulse hit to ask if she'd like to have dinner, but he firmly put the idea aside. He was just at loose ends with Samantha and Joyce still in Southern California. The local cable company was coming to install the lines and equipment for a phone, internet and cable connection, and until then, he couldn't even go online and use Skype to talk with his daughter.

As for an adult social life...?

When he began dating again, he'd need to make it clear it was unlikely he was looking for something permanent. He'd never had much faith in marriage, and after his experience with Celia, he was more skeptical than ever about the institution. From what he'd seen, the odds of divorce were greater than the chance of succeeding, and even “successful” marriages often hid a fair amount of misery.

Right now, the best antidote to his current loneliness was calling Samantha and getting a full report on her day.

Walking more swiftly, Daniel pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number at the top of his list.

* * *

M
ANDY
 
SAW
D
ANIEL
 
grope in the pocket of his athletic shorts. His bare legs were lean and powerful—he obviously wasn't exaggerating about running regularly.

After another hour, Mandy reluctantly started back to her car. Her stomach was growling and there were fewer people in the park. Good sense said she should leave.

At the little house where she lived, she carefully sorted the berries before washing and putting them into a plastic freezer bag. At this rate, it would take a week to get enough for jam. No wonder huckleberry preserves were so expensive in the gift stores.

It was still light, so she walked out to the patio, Mr. Spock yowling plaintively from behind the closed door. He gave up after a few minutes and she relaxed, listening to the music the crickets made and the sound of the wind. A lawn mower started in the Bertram House yard, but she didn't mind; it fit the evening and accompanied the other mowers in the distance.

Daniel approached a few minutes later, pushing the lawn mower. The bushes between their yards were short and sparse, and their gazes met. She raised a hand to be sociable, even lifted her iced tea and pointed at it so he'd know she was offering a glass if he wanted it.

After twenty minutes, the mower stopped and Daniel came back to catch her attention.

“Hope I didn't disturb your evening too much. I'm not much of a gardener, but the grass was getting too long.”