“So I could walk barefoot on green grass.”
“Ah, well, yes, that, too.” He seemed to have lost the ability to form complete sentences.
“No one has ever done anything so thoughtful for me.”
He tried to shrug off her appreciation. “It was quite a simple gesture, really.”
“I think it’s a grand one.”
A moment stretched between them. One weighty with import. Import of what, Lucas couldn’t say with absolute certainty. But he had an inkling, and just that inkling was enough to wallop him and steal the breath from his lungs.
And what he detected in her eyes?
She might have an inkling, too.
He held up a fishing pole. “Shall we?”
Hesitant, she nodded and followed him into the river. It was a shallow area, the water only reaching their ankles. He fixed her line and demonstrated how to cast. “Arm back, then forward with a flick of your wrist.”
After a few tries, she got the knack of the casting motion, and minutes later they were fishing side by side, the sounds of water flowing… the shimmer of willow leaves… the song of a woodlark their only company.
“So, what makes a good fishing spot?” she asked, squinting into the water.
Lucas pointed to a place on the opposite side of the river. “See how it’s deeper there? But it’s shallow here?”
She nodded.
“Well, you want to lure them out of the deep and into the shallow, get them involved in the chase.”
Before he could explain further, Nell’s lure dipped and pulled taut. “Lawks,” she exclaimed.
“Pull straight up,” he said, wading over with the bucket. He grabbed the line and guided the trout in. Gently, so as not to harm the fish, he wrapped his hand around its scaly body, as the trout did its damnedest to wriggle free. “Would you like to hold your first catch?”
Nell looked dubious, but curious, too. “Is it slimy?”
“A little.”
He wasn’t expecting she would, but then she reached out. He slid the hook from the trout’s mouth and held the fish out to her. “See how I’m holding it? That’s how you’ll want to do it. We don’t want to harm him, because we’ll be tossing him back.”
She nodded and followed his instructions, handling the fish firmly but with care, and only emitting a few squeals when the fish gave a flurry of wiggles. “Now,” he said, “let’s wade to where it’s a little deeper and set him down gently.”
She did as instructed, and together they watched the trout swim toward freedom. She glanced over at him. “You’re quite good at this.”
“It’s how I spent my childhood. There are few things I’d rather be doing at any given moment.”
“Even with the squish of muck between your toes?” She scrunched her nose.
“Even with that,” he said. It was only the truth. “Want to go again?”
“Strangely, I do.”
He’d taken a few steps before he realized Nell wasn’t beside him. He looked back and found her struggling to move. “It seems I’ve become tangled in the fishing line.”
Lucas returned and began helping, turning her this way and that to follow the line that kept doubling back on itself in the wind that had suddenly kicked up, even crouching when it dipped into the water. He stood and reached around her, certain he would have her free in a matter of seconds. Then her face angled up, and he realized something. He had his arms around…her.
And she’d noticed.
With unspoken accord, she was lifting onto her toes and his face was lowering. In the next tick of time, their lips would touch. His blood ran hot in anticipation of that contact. Just as her breath whispered across his mouth, a heavy drop of rain landedsplaton his nose, and Nell jumped. “What in the world?”
