Instructions for Love (13 page)

Erin laughed. More white birds took flight from hidden berths. “How lovely,” she said, glancing back at Dane.

He wore a genuine smile and nodded.

She wished more than anything at this moment, that he would inherit the plantation. Her aunt’s brother didn’t deserve it from the way he had turned his back on Tilly. And Erin wouldn’t want it, especially with no knowledge of how to run such an estate. Of course she disliked wealth.
Just marry a man with money and you’ll be fine
, her mother had said too many times.

Erin faced forward, shaking her head to get rid of her mother’s words. She had led by example, but that was one parental example Erin refused to follow.

Dane swerved the boat to miss hitting a floating log. “Sorry. You’re still okay?”

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a thumb’s up. He deserved to have wealth. The youthful man wearing a fishing cap happily steered his small craft, but he would look terrific in a much larger boat.

“We’re coming up to the lake,” he said. “You’re sure you don’t want a life jacket? I have some in the bow.” He pointed to the front of their craft.

She spied the tiny closed door, anxiety growing in her chest. She peered back at him. “You can swim, can’t you?” she asked hopefully.

He laughed, touched his chest and gave her a grin that made him look more like a kid. “Senior lifesaver here. We’re ready to go under when you are.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m not ready to go under. But if you can grab my hand if I do, I’m good.”

“I can grab your hand.”

His brief statement gave her more courage for the murky water they moved through.

They entered a much wider body of water. Their presence made scores of dark birds fly up, a lovely sight and pleasant sound of fluttering of wings.

“Okay, we’re here.” Dane turned off the motor. “Let’s get `em.”

Erin peered at water stretching far on either side. Flat green circular plants topped much of it, attractive purple flowers on them. “What are those?”

“Water lilies.” He took a few steps and bent down for the fishing lines. “I’ll get you ready.”

His movements made the boat sway. Erin grabbed the seat to hold on. Feeling their motion settle, she scanned the lilies and the water. “There aren’t any alligators out here, are there?”

“We just passed a couple.”

She jumped up from her seat. The boat rocked as she scrambled to Dane, grabbing his arm.

He chuckled. “You’ll dump us over if you move so fast in here.”

She eyed the water. Erin stared at anything protruding from it. Holding onto his firm bicep, she assured herself she saw only sticks and more plants. “You were kidding about alligators, right?”

He didn’t reply.

She found him staring at her hands clasping his arm. Erin let go of it.

His gaze ran up to her eyes. “No, not kidding.”

Her hands went for his arm again, but instinct told her not to grab him. She peered at the boat’s short side, envisioning a mammoth alligator with large numbers of huge sharp teeth climbing over it.

Using her quietest voice and without moving so the boat wouldn’t tilt, she spoke. “Take me out of here.” She made her eyes plead with him.

Dane chuckled. “Our gators are friendly. They won’t attack you.” He obviously noticed her frightened stare and added, “I promise.”

She watched the water while he bent again.

“Besides,” he said, standing, “you wouldn’t even give them a good bite.”

He grinned, but she did not. “I’m not that small.”

His eyes skimmed her figure, admiration filling them. “Okay, maybe a bite and a half.”

She slowly sat and then used her firmest tone. “I’m not comfortable being with a bunch of creatures that eat people.”

“You’ve never heard that an alligator attacked anyone here, did you?”

She thought a moment. “No.”

“Well then, here’s your line. I’ll cast it for you.” From the fishing pole, he loosened a tiny hook surrounded by yellow fringes with a small cork above it. He threw out the line as though he’d been doing that action all his life. He handed her the pole, his honey-colored eyes sparkling. “Just don’t get between a mamma gator and her baby.”

Erin clasped the pole, her eyes swiveling toward the water. She looked for a large alligator on one side, searching around the lilies on the opposite side for signs of a baby.

“How small is a baby?” she asked.

“You’ll never catch your fish like that,” he said. Retrieving a pole from the floor for himself, Dane threw a distance from where he’d cast for her. “You need to watch your cork.”

She peered around and after a long search, spotted her cork settled in the middle of water lilies. “Is this lake full of them?”

He gave his pole jerking motions. “I don’t guess you mean fish. But no, all the water surrounding us is not filled with flesh-eating creatures.”

She used her nicest tone. “Couldn’t we catch a fish somewhere else?”

“We could go in bayous or canals, but they might have a couple of gators, too, if that’s what worries you. It’s summertime, and the gators are hungry.” He glanced at her. “But not for you.”

She gave him a smirk that let him know he hadn’t reassured her.

“Or we could fish from a bank anywhere or go out into the gulf. But then we’d need to use a much bigger boat.”

A bigger boat. Surely he’d like to own one. Erin attempted a smile but knew she’d only made a weak one. “This place is fine.”

“Are you sure? We could try someplace else.”

She fought to stop her inner quiver from showing. “This lake is good.”

He made a slow smile and then nodded toward her pole. “Once in a while, pop your line. The motion attracts fish.” He demonstrated with his pole. She jerked on her pole, imitating his moves. Dane watched his cork, and she watched hers. She popped her line.

The sun had risen. Its rays glittered across the water. Erin put on her sunglasses, eyed her cork and jerked her line. All she needed to do was sit in this boat. But sitting still for as long as it seemed she would have to do to catch a fish was a penance. If she’d ever have had to sit across a screen from a priest for confessions like she’d seen in movies, this was probably what he’d make her do to atone for her sins.

Her sins? She hadn’t been the most dutiful daughter, but she’d tried. She would not, however, agree with her mother and keep looking for a guy with money. And she didn’t like the men her mother married.

Dane, at the opposite end of the boat, reeled in his line. He glanced at her as though making certain she was okay and then turned to the rear and cast again.

Satisfaction oozed through Erin.
He
was the type man who always attracted her, a man with little income. Oh, he was one of the best looking guys she had ever encountered, especially now that he’d shed the gloom he seemed to carry. Out in this fresh air in his worn jeans, T-shirt and fishing cap, Dane appealed like he hadn’t before.

Erin swallowed and looked away. She had to stop thinking of him. She had her job and apartment and the big city. Enticing though he was, he spent most of his day with something haunting him. Whatever pain he carried seldom allowed him to embrace pleasure. He’d shown glints of happy moments but they could sweep away in an instant. It was as though his heart was jammed, not letting him experience joy.

Maybe it was his hoping to own her Aunt Tilly’s plantation that caused him to experience such discontent.

Anyway, she considered, popping her line, he lived down here, and she didn’t. Too much distance between them. The North and the South in this instance certainly wouldn’t mix.

“They aren’t biting too well today,” he said.

“Maybe they aren’t hungry yet,” she replied without glancing back. She heard him reel in, a small splash sounding when he cast again, and her thoughts returned to where they’d headed. Contrary to her mom’s wishes, she’d chosen to date men who would have to work hard to succeed.

Erin gave her pole more hard jerks. None of the few guys she’d dated really interested her, and she had stopped going out with them, knowing nothing would come of their relationships. She tried to imagine any of the men she’d gone out with in New York in this tranquil setting but could not—and wasn’t sure she would want to. Without the bustle of the city creating that constant din in her mind, she reflected on where her life was heading. Not a happy place. If she could have stayed around her Aunt Tilly, she would’ve made better choices. Bubbly little Tilly, following where her heart led.

Erin wiped tears glazing her vision. Her aunt hadn’t wanted her to mourn. Now here she was, also failing her.

The shift of the boat made Erin glance behind. Dane was stepping close, his hand up. She felt something on her head. “You needed a hat,” he said. “I had an extra one.”

She took it off and looked at it. A fat red stuffed crayfish with open claws sported the front of the white cap. “Thanks.” She pushed her hair back and set the cap on her head.

Dane leaned farther down to her, and Erin’s heart sped. Warm fingers came over her hand that gripped the pole. She felt her heart sputter.

“Can I have this?” He watched her face.

She shook her head. Clearer thoughts filtered through, and she nodded. She let him take her fishing rod.

“You’d reeled up against the boat,” he told her. “Not many fish are going to come that close to bite.” He cast her line. Her cork landed in a distant spot. He held the pole out to her.

She took it without touching his hands. Erin wanted to speak, but her thought process jammed.

He stepped away. Dane retrieved the pole he’d set down, turned and cast on the opposite side of the boat.

The sun behind Erin felt like a heat lamp set against her back. Moments after Dane put more distance between him and her, a breeze came up. It swept across her cheeks. “I’m used to snow,” she said, “and freezing temperatures. I’ll bet you’ve never had either of those.”

He laughed, and she glanced back. He didn’t look at her.

Eyeing her cork, Erin found it lay still beside the floating green pads topped with lilies. The water held the same unique scent as the swamp, the smell more pleasant now. A white crane swooped down from the air and alighted on shore, making her notice the purple wildflowers scattered between reeds and palmettos. The corners of her lips lifted. Sitting out here might not be as bad as she’d imagined.

She glanced at Dane, saw his backside, and felt her smile fading. The grim set of his mouth when he’d come near and recast for her had let her know his true feelings. She was a bother to him, and all he wanted was for her to hurry and catch a fish. Then he could take her home and get to work in his fields.

“C’mon, fish,” she uttered, jerking her rod. She needed to get one and then let the man get her back onto stable land.

Darn
, Dane thought, giving his line extra hard jerks. The woman seated behind him still seemed extra close, even if he stood with his foot jammed against the boat’s stern. He had to stop glancing at her over his shoulder. That last peek made him miss seeing his cork go under, until it was too late. The fish felt the slack and shook loose.

All she needed was one fish. That would satisfy her about fulfilling Tilly’s request, ridiculous as it was. He needed to pay better attention to his line. As soon as he hooked the next one, he’d let Erin reel it on.

She bothered him. She sat in his bow, when actually, she should be back with her boyfriend. Trevor wouldn’t be out here, trying to let her catch a fish. He’d have her at his place, probably snuggled and getting all cozy. He’d be making her happy and bringing back the light that danced in her eyes whenever she’d looked pleased. He’d enjoy watching her beautiful face.

Dane cursed. He reeled in and cast again.

“Did you say something?” Erin turned toward him, her look expectant.

He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s hot.”

Facing toward him, she glanced at the sky. Her eyes trapped the light, revealing their green hues, giving him an urge to study them. Those eyes that originally appeared gray as ripe moss had changed. She aimed them toward him. “You aren’t accustomed to being in the sun?”

“In the fields, but not out here.” He noted the stupidity of that statement before he’d completed it. “I mean… I hadn’t been fishing in a while. Being in a boat’s different.”
Especially with you in it.

She lowered her rod. “Why don’t you do this more often? You seem so at ease out here.”

He shook his head regretfully, squeezing back the burn in his throat. “Someone used to fish with me. But my fishing partner’s gone.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Her tone held real empathy. When he didn’t tell more, she removed the cap, leaned her head back and shook it. Her brown hair shimmered over her shoulders. But the parts of it edging her face had darkened from being wet.

“It’s too warm for you to be out here.” He grabbed the cooler. “Here, have some water.”

She smiled, accepting the cooler, and lifted the spigot. “You wouldn’t happen to have a glass?”

“Afraid not. But go ahead, I filled it with ice. I’ll have coffee.” He picked up the thermos. “Did you want some?”

“No, thanks. It’s much too steamy out here for coffee.”

“You’re probably right.” He drank it anyway, the strong brew burning his throat on the way down. Immediately his body felt even hotter.

“Mm, good and cold.” She raised the cooler again and drank more. “Thanks. That was great.” When she handed the cooler back to him, he spied faint freckles on her nose. Her cheeks had reddened.

“I’ll get you into some shade,” he said. “The fish aren’t biting here anyway.” Retrieving the rod he’d set down, he reeled in. He was ready to tell her to do the same thing, but saw she had already imitated him. With her line in, she grabbed her hook, secured it on an eye on the rod, and set the rig on the floor. “Nice job,” Dane said.

“This being a country girl seems hard at first, but once you get accustomed, it isn’t so difficult.” She took off her cap and ran her fingers through her hair, more of it now damp. She thrust the baseball cap back on her head, a flash of humor crossing her face. “Ready when you are, captain.”