Hearts Crossing (Woodland) (3 page)

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Collin Edwards certainly didn't seem to mind hard work.

Daveny watched the newcomer and appreciated his easy demeanor with the crew to which she had assigned him, the efficient, vital aura he projected.

Intermittent spurts of joking and laughter spurred on the team as they stretched and placed the lining of the pond, settling it into place on the freshly graded ground. Next would be the rock placement and construction of the spill channel.

“I don't blame you. He's
hot
!”

Jerking free of her revelry Daveny turned to her right-hand colleague and up-and-coming designer in her own right, Kiara Jordan. She looked like a movie star, tall and willowy, with a big, gorgeous smile and an ocean of straight honey blonde hair that fell just past her shoulders. A pair of oversize sunglasses temporarily masked her wide, green eyes but accentuated high cheekbones and flawless olive skin.

“The new guy. He’s hot,” Kiara reiterated, nudging Daveny for unneeded emphasis. “Tell you what. While you enjoy the view, I'm off to rescue him with a bottle of cold water.”

Daveny swatted her arm. “Oh, no you're not. I am.”

Kiara lifted a bottle from the large iron tub full of ice and beverages, chuckling when she handed it over.

“Reverse psychology. Works every time. Go. Give him a break.” She slid down her glasses and peeked at Daveny over the rims. “While you're at it? Give yourself one, too.”

Daveny issued a sigh of exasperation and eternal martyrdom. “Wench.”

“Whatever gets the job done,” Kiara quipped right back.

Daveny walked toward Collin with a bit of a huff to her attitude, purely for Kiara's benefit. When she neared the pond area, that sense of bravado slipped to tentative and shy.

Get over it, Montgomery. It's just attraction.

Broad shoulders worked against the cotton fabric of his white t-shirt. His biceps flexed, sinewy forearms went taut and lax as he lifted bags of gravel in tandem with the rest of his team.

Tall and lean, Collin looked great in his worn jeans and untucked, loose fitting shirt. Short brown hair had gone a bit damp while he worked and exertion added a touch of ruddy color to his face.

That focus drew Daveny's attention to deep-set eyes of sapphire framed by thick lashes and crowned by well-shaped brows. A bit of sweat glistened there, and she felt an even stronger compulsion to see to his comfort.

He turned away from her full view, which helped calm her nerves and that sudden, potent sizzle of masculine appeal.

But then he turned, as if sensing her approach. The impact of his gaze sent Daveny's just restored sense of calm into extinction.

“Hey,” he greeted softly.

“Hey.” She fidgeted with her delivery for a second before offering over the chilled plastic bottle, its surface already coated with condensation that trickled over her fingers, then his, as he took custody. “Pretty rude of me to put you to work without even a cold drink.”

“Read minds in your spare time? This is great. Thank you very much.”

He twisted the lid and Daveny watched him swig back a healthy swallow. Dangerous, since watching him quench his thirst made her mouth go dry.

“You're welcome.” She took a deep, fortifying breath, preparing herself. Then the words came, without any type of filter or fore-planning. “The hired contractors are getting paid by the hour, and the volunteers are here for the benefit of our church. The least I can do after assigning you to hard labor is treat you to a cup of coffee or something when we finish up.”

As soon as the words were out, Daveny realized how much she hoped he would say yes. She blushed, surprised at herself for even asking. She fell back on a touch of humor, adding, “That is, if you don't mind how I look at the moment.”

“Daveny, you look just fine.” There he paused for a moment, watching her intently. “I'd love it.”

The pleasure Daveny saw in his eyes was more than enough of a reward for being so bold. The compliment helped tremendously as well.

She nodded and turned to rejoin Kiara, knowing her friend would just love this development. “I'll catch up with you later then?”

“That'd be great.”

****

Collin left the restaurant choice to Daveny, so she picked The Java Hut, a lakeside establishment located just a few miles away from Woodland. Before leaving church, she had freshened up, unbinding her hair from its utilitarian ponytail. Collin now wore a new shirt he had grabbed from the cab of his truck. Free of project buffers, Daveny couldn’t escape the intensity of his effect on her expectant, stuttering heart. From across the table she took in his fresh scrubbed skin and re-styled hair. Warm, tingling magnetism went to work on her senses all over again.

She ordered iced coffee, heavy on the whipped cream, and Collin did the same, adding a blueberry scone for them to divide and share.

Patio seating afforded an uninterrupted view of the sparkling blue waters of Lake Saint Clair, the vista dotted by brightly-colored sailboats, jet skis and a sky full of cottony clouds and squawking, wheeling gulls.

“A high school English teacher? I give you tremendous credit, Collin.” Daveny sipped her bittersweet beverage and savored the chill. “Have you always loved writing and language?”

“I’m the classic book nerd. I’ll tell you all of my awkward and sad junior high and high school stories some day.”

They laughed together.

“All present evidence to the contrary.”
Where in heaven’s name is this flirty behavior coming from?
Daveny wondered, not that Collin seemed to mind.

“Being the youngest of eight left me in the position of observer. I always watched the other seven, as well as everything around us. I guess I've always been a watcher, chronicling my view of the world. Helping my students reach more fully into theirs, and express it, is something I love. There's such a beauty to well crafted writing and expression.”

“Like I said, I admire you. It can't be easy teaching teenagers.” But then Daveny did the math. “Eight children? I thought Elise and Ben had six—well seven—counting you.”

That stilled him and sent the moment into a stilted pause.

“We, ah, lost my oldest brother. He died in the line of duty. He was a police officer.”

“I’m so sorry.” Daveny imagined it would be like losing a piece of your heart forever. “When did it happen?”

Collin sighed. He fingered a piece of scone, but then left it on his plate. “Five years, three months, fourteen days.”

The murmured response, his downcast eyes, broke her heart. Even after this amount of time, he seemed raw. In deference to his comfort, Daveny revisited their earlier topic, his job.

“So, back to me admiring your patience and stamina…” She warmed the words with a smile she hoped would pave the way to their earlier ease.

“I figure it's worth the struggle. Books, words, thoughts and ideas, they intrigue me, and I tend to lose myself in the places and people I find in what they create.”

His comfort returned. Mission accomplished. A soft, cool breeze skimmed in over the water, kissing Daveny's skin, inspiring her to close her eyes and sigh happily.

“You, Daveny Montgomery, are most definitely a nature girl.”

Her eyes came open when he spoke, and she found her attention fixed on his face. A squared jaw was traced by a bit of stubble. Once again the clarity and depth of his eyes reached into her like a feathery caress that was brief but seductive when she realized he had observed her enjoyment of the elements.

“From the time I was little.”

“Tell me your story. What led you to become a landscape architect?”

“Flowers.”

They laughed at Daveny's simplistic overview then she relented with a smile and looked out at the waves that crested on the nearby curve of sandy beach. “I can't say for sure, although I remember, vividly, the year my parents completely reconstructed their yard.” She looked back at Collin for a moment. “I was maybe nine or ten, and since I was an only child, and both my parents made good livings, we had a bit of extra money to do things like house renovations, gardening and landscaping. Anyway, our back yard was huge, and my mom helped oversee its creation from a typical yard in suburbia to an oasis. I think watching that process, seeing how beautiful it came to be, left me intrigued. I've always loved gardens.” Daveny downed a chunk of scone and let it dissolve on her tongue. “I love the idea of making my mark.”

“Like at Woodland.”

She nodded. “The project is very special to me. My favorite part of it is what you were working on today. The pond. When we're finished, the narrow end of the pond will be surrounded by those flat limestone rocks you helped move. They'll form steps of a sort leading to a wooden bridge that spans the water. The church is sponsoring a fundraiser so parishioners can have their name, or the names of their loved ones, engraved on each plank. We look at it as a kind of footbridge for God, created by His people.”

Once again Collin went mysteriously silent and unreadable. He fiddled with his knife. To fill the silence Daveny continued. “I needed this, to be honest. Lately I’ve found it to be way too easy to slip away from my faith; well, no more. This project has been my wake-up call.”

They ordered a second scone, but the silence returned, and with it, that niggling degree of disquiet.

“Did I say something wrong?” she finally asked, puzzled.

“No. Nothing wrong.” He smiled at her, but the smile was a bit strained at the edges. “Your conviction is wonderful, and completely sincere.”

“Yes, it is.”

He paused, but Daveny didn't step in again. This time she wanted him to continue and urged him to do so by staying quiet. A thread was being developed here, winding between them in a tentative, promising connection.

“I just—it’s been a long time since I’ve been anywhere near Woodland. I don't feel the same way about God that you do.”

“How
do
you feel about God?” she asked gently.

“I
don't
,” he replied. But then he softened, and gave her an apologetic look. “For now, if you don’t mind, can we leave it at that?”

The answer, coupled with accompanying pain she sensed, left her wanting to press. She wanted to comfort and assure, but she didn't. She didn't want to intrude where she didn't belong. After all, they were just getting to know one another.

“OK, I will. For now. Just one question though. Is that why you don't attend church with the rest of your family?”

Again, like something divinely inspired, the words escaped before she could even consider them or hold them in check. All Collin did was nod.

The reactions, his character, intrigued her tremendously because he seemed a genuinely wonderful person. Daveny sensed as much in the way he behaved and the vibration of goodness he gave off.

Yet he seemed lost, too.

Perhaps God had more in store for her than renovating Woodland. Maybe there was a way she might touch his heart, and his faith light. She had wondered, just a short time ago, how to re-find her fire for God. It seemed He was answering her prayers in abundance.

They chatted a bit longer and finished their treat. When the waitress delivered their bill their hands bumped, then connected when they simultaneously reached for it.