Taken With You (12 page)

After a few passes up and down the yard, along with another death-defying spin around a tree, he stopped the lawnmower and shut it off. “What?”

He was talking to her. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve been glaring at me with your hands on your hips the entire time I’ve been mowing. I assume I’m doing it wrong?”

She hadn’t realized she’d assumed such a damning position while she was watching. “It’s your yard.”

“But you disapprove.”

She laughed, throwing her hands up. “Again, it’s your yard.”

“I could do yours, too. It’d only take me a few minutes. You did make me shepherd’s pie, after all.”

“Thank you, but I enjoy mowing my lawn. With my lawnmower that doesn’t disturb the entire neighborhood or stink up the yard with exhaust fumes.”

“Ah. So it’s my big, bad lawnmower that’s annoying you.”

So much for a quiet, post-shepherd’s pie truce between neighbors. “Yes. It is.”

“Put your earbuds back in and turn the music up.”

She took a deep breath, then tried going about it a different way. “When you drive recklessly like that, I worry about your dog.”

“You mean the dog who hasn’t left the deck since I drove this around the corner?” Now that he mentioned it, Bear
was
still on the deck. “And I’m not reckless.”

“You almost rolled it over going around the tree.”

He laughed. “I did not. This thing corners so tight, it’s like being on rails.”

She had no idea what that meant, but she knew this conversation was pointless. After putting the earbuds back in her ears, she flipped through her playlist for some fun dance music and restarted her lawnmower.

There was no ignoring the big beast devouring the lawn next to hers at a record pace, but she did her best not to look over. She took her time, trying to enjoy an activity that usually relaxed her.

Before she knew it, the noise quit next door and she realized he was already done. She had to admit his way was a lot faster. But on principle, she refused to be jealous and give him the satisfaction of seeing it on her face. It wasn’t about speed, it was about taking pride in one’s lawn.

During one pass, she saw that Matt had positioned himself on a patio chair with a pitcher of lemonade in such a way he couldn’t be doing anything but watching her, with Bear stretched out at his feet. He raised the glass in a cocky salute when she looked over, and she refused to look that way again.

When she was finally done, at least an hour after he finished, she stowed the mower and the cord in the shed and looked out over her lawn. It didn’t look any different from his. They were the same length, more or less. Both green. Hers didn’t show any sign of having been lovingly mowed in an environmentally friendly way.

“You want some lemonade?” She turned to face Matt, who was still sitting on his deck. He pointed at the pitcher. “I have plenty, and mowing lawns works up a sweat.”

“It didn’t take you long enough to work up a sweat.”

When he grinned, she realized she’d given herself away. “I’d be happy to let you borrow mine if you want to take it for a spin next time.”

“Thank you, but I’d probably spin myself right into the trees.” She started toward her back door, wanting a tall glass of ice water.

“You sure you don’t want some lemonade?”

“No, thank you.”

She went inside and closed the door with a bang. Somebody obviously had no sense of boundaries. When people lived so close together, you had to pretend the other had some privacy. Not stare at them while they mowed and then bellow across the yard like a carnival barker hawking lemonade.

Standing at her sink, drinking a glass of water, she tried not to stare at the man playing fetch with his dog in his backyard. She, unlike him, had some sense of boundaries.

But she might have peeked a few times.

* * *

O
N
T
HURSDAY
,
M
ATT
rode his quad down the main street of Whitford at the mandated ten miles per hour, getting a feel for the traffic pattern that brought the ATVs out of the woods behind the Trailside Diner and down through town to the Whitford General Store & Service Station, where they could get gas. He’d ridden the trails through the woods with Josh and Andy, but the access to town was vital.

Riders also had access to the municipal parking lot, where they could leave their machines and walk through town to visit other businesses if they were so inclined. The signage was clear, the residents gave him cheerful waves and he hadn’t seen any obvious red flags. Again he was impressed by how much thought the Northern Star ATV club had put into building their trail system.

Since he was there, he filled up with gas and then went into the store to pay. Fran Benoit was, as usual, behind the counter. Her thick, gray braid and flannel shirt seemed to be her daily uniform, and she was knitting what looked like a mint green baby blanket.

“Good morning, Fran.”

“Matt! It’s good to see you again. Are you settling in okay?”

“With a town like Whitford, how could I not? I almost feel like I was born and raised here.”

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and he thought she might have patted his head if he was close enough. “I knew the first time I met you that you’d fit right in here.”

“What are you knitting?”

“A blanket for Liz’s baby.” She held it up, looking it over with a critical eye. “Have you met Liz? She’s Drew Miller’s wife.”

“I met her at the diner, but I didn’t know she was expecting.”

“She might be.” Fran shrugged. “Or she might not be. But it won’t be long. What are you up to today, besides looking handsome in that uniform?”

“I wanted to get a feel for the ATV traffic flow through town, so I’m doing some errands. Once I pay you for the gas, I’ll go wander through town a bit. I might stop in to the barber shop. And I need a library card.”

The woman lit up as if she’d stuck her knitting needle in a light socket. “Really? If you should happen to hear anything about Liz and Drew, I’d love to know about it. I’d even dig up one of the good chew bones I have out back for that Lab of yours.”

“I’ve been warned about you, Fran.”

“I just want an idea of how long I have to knit this blanket,” she said with a straight face.

“I’ll keep an ear out,” he promised as vaguely as possible.

He paid for his gas, then drove the ATV to the municipal lot and parked it. After locking his helmet through the rack, he stuck his ball cap on his head and took a walk.

It was a nice day, and people made a point of waving to him or saying hello. He liked that. Having a good relationship with this community was important professionally, but it was also his home now.

When he got to the barber shop, he stepped inside. It retained that old-fashioned look and smell, and he breathed deeply. This was the way a barber shop was meant to be. A blonde woman with her hair pulled through a Patriots cap looked up from the haircut she was giving when he walked in.

“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re Matt Barnett.”

“Now what gave it away?” he asked, looking down at his uniform.

“I’m Katie.” She set down the trimmer in her hand and grabbed a big brush to clean her customer’s neck and ears. “I’ll be right with you.”

He waited while she took the cape off the older man and made change for him. Matt didn’t need a haircut yet, but there was no harm in stopping in. Not only was she a business owner, but she was the club president’s fiancée.

“Josh has told me a lot about you,” she said when they were alone, and put out her hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

He shook her hand. “I’ve met him a couple of times, and I’ve met your mom and Andy, so I thought I’d stop in and introduce myself.”

“You don’t need a haircut right now, but I hope you’ll come back when you do.” She tilted her head, looking him over. “You did that yourself, didn’t you?”

He laughed, feeling self-conscious even with his hat on. “That bad?”

“No, but it’s a little crooked where you went around your ear and down to your neck. Hard area to do yourself.”

“When it’s time for a trim, I’ll come in and let you fix it for me.”

“Done. So out making the rounds?”

“Yeah. Getting to know people and it’s a nice day for a walk. I’ll probably go over to the library and get some books while I’m here.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“This town is too much.” He shook his head. “There’s no ulterior motive behind getting a library card. And Fran at the general store just offered me a chew bone for my dog if I find out if Liz is pregnant yet. Oh, and have you set a wedding date yet?”

That made her laugh. “Is she still offering five dollars off? I swear, that woman. But she’s harmless, really. Her and my mom are good friends and if she actually got big news before my mom did, she’d give us all hell.”

“Good to know. Be better to save five bucks off my groceries, but I’ll live.” He stepped toward the door. “It was good to meet you, Katie. I’ll see you around.”

“I’m sure you will. My mom will want to feed you whenever she gets the chance.”

He pushed open the door with one hand, but put the other on his stomach. “Please. I’m still working off her meat loaf sandwiches.”

It was a good walk to the library, which was exercise, at least. He was going to have to watch the women in this town, he thought, or he wouldn’t fit in his uniforms soon. Hopefully the extra time on the four-wheeler would help keep the pounds at bay.

There were a few cars in the library parking lot, but it was quiet when he stepped inside. There was a low murmur of voices from the children’s section and he saw somebody working at a computer.

Hailey was at her desk, putting plastic slipcovers on new hardcovers, but she looked up when the door closed behind him with a muted thump. Her eyes widened when she recognized him, and then narrowed slightly.

“Good morning,” she said in a polite voice when he reached the desk.

“I’m doing errands, so I thought I’d get my library card while I was out.”

“Wonderful.” She gave him a wide smile that was totally fake. “Do you have identification or a utility bill with your name and your Whitford address on it?”

“My identification has my previous address on it and I haven’t lived here long enough to get a utility bill yet.” Which she damn well knew.

“Our policy is that potential patrons prove they live in Whitford before being issued a library card.”

So she was in one of those moods. That was fine with him. “How about if my neighbor swears she watched me move in next door to her. And she did, very closely, judging by how often her curtains moved.”

Color tinted her cheeks. “I’m sure it was a draft. She probably couldn’t have cared less what you were doing.”

“Oh, I doubt it was a draft. It was pretty warm that day. As a matter of fact, it was so warm, I had to take my shirt off because I was sweating.”

Her mouth tightened, and he wondered if she was mad or trying not to smile. “Be that as it may, Warden Barnett, our policy requires proof of Whitford residency.”

“Is this a big problem you’ve had? People coming into town and signing up for a library card under false pretenses to steal a book?”

“Our budget’s tight. We can’t be too careful.” She lost the battle to hide her smile, and shook her head. “But, I think, in your case we can make an exception. You being an officer of the law and all.”

She pulled a form out of a drawer and started filling it in herself. Of course she knew his name and his address, since she lived next door. Then she looked up at him. “What’s your middle name?”

“Is that on the form?”

“No. I’m just nosy.”

“Charles. After my dad.”

She nodded and slid the form around to him. “You need to write in your phone number and sign the bottom, and I need to see your driver’s license.”

“My number, huh? Is that really on the form?”

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. Then she looked at his license. “You’re only thirty-five?”

“Why? Do I look older than that?”

“No, I just...you’re younger than me.”

He gave her a thorough looking over, enjoying the way pink spread across her cheeks. “Not by much.”

“Five freaking years,” she muttered.

“I don’t believe it. You should show me
your
license.”

She snorted. “Have you ever met a woman our age, or my age anyway, who lied about being forty?”

“It’s just a number.”

“Says the guy who’s only thirty-five.”

When he handed her the completed form, she gave him a small card with his name, a number and a bar code on it. “Automated, huh?”

“Partially. I got a grant to put the checkout system on the computer, but we still have the card catalogue in the old wooden drawers.”

“I like those, myself.”

She smiled and gave him a shrug. “To be honest, I haven’t fought too hard to get rid of those, even though purging the drawers twice a year is a pain.”

“Be a shame to see it go.”

She handed him a small pile of papers, one at a time. “Here are the rules. Books and audiobooks go out for two weeks, videos and periodicals for one. You can call and renew over the phone. The overdue fine schedule is on the bottom. They’re doubled for interlibrary loan titles. And here’s a list of our clubs and special events. You know, if you like to knit or something.”

A woman was approaching the desk with a toddler and an armful of picture books, so it was time for him to go.

“I’m on the quad today, so I won’t take any books home, but I’ll be back.” He skimmed the list of activities. “You’ve got a lot going on. I could spend
all
my spare time here.”

She gave him a
don’t even think about it
look, but morphed it into a polite smile as the other patron stepped into line behind him. “Welcome to the Whitford Public Library, Warden Barnett.”

“Thank you, Hailey. I’ll definitely be back.”

He gave a polite nod to the other woman and smiled at her daughter. Then he headed for the exit. But he paused before he pushed open the door because he could see the women reflected in the glass and they were both watching him leave.