Page 23 of Spring Showers

“A golf cart would be a nice addition if we get the funding.”

“I’ll put it on the list.” He chuckled without taking his eyes off the paper.

There’s probably a million things on that list, she thought.

“I’ve got to get going,” she said, not wanting to be rude.

“Of course, go on,” Leo said.

Stepping back outside, the sun glimmered off the bike’s shiny blue paint. The wheels were clean and free of the mud that had been covering the rims before she’d gone in for the last of the supplies. Pa stood behind the bike with a wide grin. He had come and attached the cart to the rear axle on one side and replaced the existing handle with a long, bent piece of steel. The mud had been washed off and the items in the cart stacked neatly.

“Well? Will this do?” he said. “I know you said you didn’t need my help, but?—”

What else could she say? “It’s perfect.” Walking forward, she placed the bin on the ground and took a closer look at the man’s handiwork. “This is way better than what I came up with,” she rightly admitted. Though her rig would have worked well enough, this one would perform much better in the long run.

“What you need is a golf cart,” Pa said.

“It’s on the list.” She snickered.

“Have you seen his list?” Pa chuckled back. “Leo has one as long as his arm. All I’m saying is, don’t hold your breath waiting for it.”

“Thank you very much for this. I mean it.”

Pa stood at attention and saluted. “Happy to be of service.”

Thandie mirrored his posture. “Dismissed,” she said as she played along with Pa.

As he walked away, she loaded the additional supplies into the cart. Getting atop the bike was slightly more interesting with the extra load on the back, but the trip back to the gazebo was so much easier than her previous journeys had been.

Easier, that was, until her rear wheel sank into a patch of soft soil, causing the bike to stop and topple over.

She was sure a curse word escaped her lips and was glad that no one was around to hear the unladylike expression. Relief was short-lived as she realized she wasn’t alone. The sound of someone running down the crushed gravel path behind her let her know she wasn’t.

“Please don’t be my boss. Please don’t be my boss,” she repeated under her breath. A shadow of a man, long and broad, covered her, and she cringed, opening one eye and then the other as the person came around to her front. “Grant, thank goodness, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” he said and helped her to her feet. “I didn’t know mud baths were on the schedule today.” His laugh was contagious, and she giggled as she used her one clean hand to wipe the mud off her bum. Her other hand rested in his as he steadied her. “I’m only teasing you.”

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I was on my way up for breakfast. That’s my cabin right there. I’ve been seeing you pass my window all morning. This time, you had a whole load, and I heard the crash.”

Standing in front of him, covered in mud again, she wanted to crawl under a rock for a while until the embarrassment subsided. “I’m all good here. You should go eat before it’s too late.” She pointed up towards the barn. “I’ve got some things to set up in the gazebo for yoga. Are you planning to attend this morning’s activity?”

He nodded with a half-cocked grin that hid behind a day’s growth of facial hair. “I can always eat later. Do you need help?”

“Thank you for offering, but I don’t need help.”

“You may not need it, but would you like my assistance?”

She shook her head, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d say something that sounded ruder than she would intend. Pa had given her a slice of humble pie when she had refused his help only to find him having given it so freely anyway. Thandie didn’t want a repeat of that scene anytime soon, and not with this good-looking man. “Breakfast is waiting, and you’re a guest. You should get up there. I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Sure?”

She nodded. “Now, go.”

His slightly squinted eyes and relaxed mouth made her breath catch in her chest. She bit the inside of her bottom lip as he turned up the path. He had a kind of swagger to his walk that she first noticed last night as she waited for him to walk from his cabin to the barn for dinner. He had wide-set shoulders and a trim waist like a swimmer. She caught herself as soon as she pictured him wearing tight black swim shorts, and smacked herself in the forehead. She had always had a thing for swimmers, and even if he wasn’t one, she shouldn’t be imagining it. He was a guest. She was a professional.

Righting her bike, she walked it back to the path. It was a longer way around, but the cart would do better on the more solid surface than it had going cross country.

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