Page 2 of Backwater Bachelor

She’s out on the deck now, muttering to herself as she unpacks. I can almost hear her cursing the humidity and the bugs. I chuckle. There’s something endearing about her struggle, makes me want to help her out. Though I’m not sure, she’d want me to offer. She’s got this fierce determination, and I respect that in a woman. Most people would’ve given up and hightailed it back to the city by now.

One thing’s for sure-she’s a tough cookie. The way she fumbles with the simplest tasks but refuses to back down. It’s obvious she’s used to being in control, calling the shots. Out here, though, she’s out of her element.

My grin widens when she pulls out a pair of binoculars and scans the area. Smart girl. I see her eyes flare when she spots me, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. I give her a casual wave, and she hesitantly waves back. Maybe it’s just me, but I get a thrill out of this silent exchange, feeling a spark of connection despite the distance.

I take another sip of my coffee, my eyes never leaving her. I’m drawn to her. Maybe it's the way she doesn't give up, even when she's clearly frustrated. Or maybe it's the vulnerability that peeks through her tough exterior. Whatever it is, I can't help but want to get to know her better.

But the last thing I want is to scare her off. City folks can be skittish, especially when it comes to the unfamiliar. I need to find the right moment, the perfect way to introduce myself without coming off as too eager. Raising my hand, I gesture for her to come over to me but she’s quick to decline.

Of course, she’s just as I expected. Skittish.

I set the mug down, and I’m a little disappointed. I’m probably exaggerating but I really do get the sense that she could use a man.

I can see the stress in her shoulders, the weight of whatever she's running from. Maybe, just maybe, I can help lighten that load. Show her that out here, it's okay to slow down, to breathe, to let someone else take the reins for a bit. I have to find a way to enter her life smoothly and she might’ve said no to coming over to me, but…she didn’t say anything about me coming to her.

There’s nothing wrong with me paddling over there, to introduce myself properly. Maybe offer her some pointers on surviving the bayou without becoming gator bait. But I hesitate. I don’t want to come off as the creepy guy spying on her. Even if I wouldn't mind playing the swamp hero, swooping in to save the day.

Actually, who am I kidding? That’s exactly what I want. A sense of excitement washes over me as I get into the boat. Hopefully she won’t run.

3.

Jane

All right, chopping wood. How hard can it be? It's not like you need a degree in wood-pecking or anything. Just swing the axe, chop the wood, and try not to lose any toes in the process.

I grab the axe with both hands, trying channeling my inner lumberjack. I know the stranger is still watching me with his rugged charm and amused expression. I pretend not to notice, but it's hard to ignore the way my heart races whenever I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye.

With a deep breath, I raise the axe and bring it down with all my might. The log splits in two, and I feel a small sense of triumph. Maybe this isn't so bad after all. I glance over to see if he's still watching, and yep, there he is, sipping his coffee and looking like he doesn't have a care in the world. My face heats up.

I grab another log and set it on the chopping block. This time, I’m not so lucky. The axe slips, and I nearly chop my own foot off. "Son of a—!" I curse loudly, hopping around on one foot, trying to shake off the shock. Please, please let him not have seen that.

I sneak a peek in his direction, hoping against hope that he missed my near-death experience. No such luck. He's definitely seen it, and if that grin on his face is anything to go by, he’s thoroughly entertained.

My face burns with embarrassment. What must he think of me? He must think I’m some dumb girl who can’t even chop wood without risking life and limb. He’s probably seen countless guests come and go, all more capable and outdoorsy than me. They probably arrived with their own axes and lumberjack shirts, ready to conquer the wild. And here I am, struggling like a basket case.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. Focus, Jane. You can do this. I raise the axe again, trying to ignore the fact that my every move is being watched. I bring it down, and the log splits cleanly. Yes! Victory! But my celebration is cut short when I see movement from the corner of my eye.

He’s getting into his boat. My heart skips a beat. Is he coming over here? Oh no. Oh no no no. I’m a sweaty, disheveled mess right now. My hair’s all over the place, my face is probably as red as a tomato, and I smell like— like I’ve been chopping wood in the sweltering heat. Disgusting.

Panic sets in. Should I run back into the house? Hide behind the woodpile? Pretend I’m invisible? I glance around, trying to come up with a plan. But it’s too late. He’s already rowing across the bayou, and I’m standing here, frozen like a deer in headlights.

As he gets closer, I force myself to stay put. Running away would only make me look more ridiculous. Besides, he’s just a guy. A very handsome, rugged guy who happens to be rowing over to rescue me from my own incompetence. No biggie.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. By the time he reaches the shore, I’ve managed to plaster a somewhat calm expression on my face. He steps out of the boat, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Need a hand?" he asks, his voice warm and inviting.

***

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The stranger’s standing there, all rugged and charming, offering to help me chop wood. But no way. I need to prove that I can handle myself out here. I flash him a confident smile and shake my head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got this," I say, trying to sound more capable than I feel.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Alright, but if you need anything, just holler. I’m right over there." He points across the bayou to his houseboat, then extends his hand. "Danny Darke, by the way."

"Jane. Haynes." I shake his hand, and there’s a spark, making my heart do a little flip. We stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, and I feel a tiny thrill run through me. There's a hint of flirtation in his eyes, and I can’t help but blush.

Determined to act as if I’m not hot bothered, I decide to play it cool. "It was nice to meet you, Danny but I’ve got some fishing to do."

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