He pointed. “Do you see that little bit of white through the trees?” Maddy didn’t respond. She was distracted by the strong line of David’s jaw, sprinkled with a shadow of dark stubble.
He was staring at her too. She dragged her attention back to the tree line. “Oh, yeah, I do.” She strained her eyes to see through a stand of pines farther down the stream. “Kind of.”
“That’s our place. It’s in Jenkins’s field. He’s a farmer—”
“Yeah, I kind of know him, or at least, I know who he is,” Maddy interrupted. “I’ve met his, um, pig.” She didn’t elaborate. David looked perplexed. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, he’s a really nice guy. My dad rented a cottage 88
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on his property this winter. He does some maintenance on his tractors and things in return for a cut on the rent. It’s a pretty small place, but we don’t have a lot of stuff—
you know, two guys alone and everything.”
The obvious question hung in the air, but Maddy didn’t ask it. They sat down again and David poked at the grass with a twig. “My mom lives in L.A. They got divorced when I was little.”
She nodded. “That’s too bad.”
“It’s okay. It was a really long time ago.”
They were quiet for a minute. Maddy changed the subject. “So, where’d you learn to cook?”
“At Mondavi. My dad was the vineyard manager there for years. I was always hanging around the kitchen when I was a little kid, asking for snacks, being annoying. Finally, the line cooks started giving me stuff to do so I’d quit bothering them. I washed vegetables, but they eventually let me do some chopping. When I was fifteen they let me come on as an intern.”
Maddy shook her head and shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged. She watched an ant carry a dead beetle through the grass in front of her. “That’s so cool. I’ve never known a guy my age who could cook, much less liked to.”
David heaved a mock-tired sigh. “I know. My friends call me Emeril, but they’re more than happy to eat whatever I make.”
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“I’m a hopeless cook,” Maddy confessed. “I max out at spaghetti and scrambled eggs.”
“I love scrambled eggs,” David said, his hand on his chest. “How did you know that’s my favorite food in the world?”
“Scrambled eggs are your favorite food?”
“Well, no,” David said, grinning a little devilishly.
“Actually, my favorite food is steamed lobster. I was just trying to make you feel better.”
Maddy laughed. “Thanks a lot, jerk!” She shoved him onto the grass. He fell on his side with a thud and curled up in a ball.
“Help!” he moaned to the air in front of him. “Assault!
This girl is beating me up! The only thing that’ll save me is . . . is . . . a chocolate-chip cookie!” He continued moaning pitifully.
Maddy couldn’t help laughing at him. “Okay!” she said, half crawling over to the plate of cookies still sitting by the rock where she’d left them this morning. She broke one in half.
“Help! Time is running out!” David, with his eyes still closed, opened his mouth like a fish. Maddy poked in the cookie, stuffing the other half into her own mouth.
He sat up. “Ahh, much better,” he managed through the cookie. Maddy’s phone beeped from the grass between them. “Wow, you’re popular!” He reached 90
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across Maddy’s lap and swiped the phone. “Who could this be? Call from Brian—who’s Brian, your boyfriend?”
he teased.
“David, give me that!” In a panic, Maddy grabbed at the phone, but he held it just out of her reach, grinning.
“Hallooo, Pierre’s Auto Repair, who ees dis?” he cried in a high falsetto. He winked at Maddy.
“Stop! Give it to me!” she hissed furiously. David must have seen something change in her face. His grin faded and he handed the phone back.
“Sorry,” he mouthed. Maddy glared at him angrily and jogged a few feet away, turning her back.
“Hi,” she said.
“Who the hell was that?” Brian did not sound happy.
“No one—just this guy I’m working with.” Maddy tried to make her voice unruffled. She peeked over her shoulder. David was throwing small stones into the stream, staring straight ahead of him.
“There’s a guy up there? Thanks for telling me.”
“I didn’t have a chance! Anyway, you have nothing to worry about. He’s the son of my dad’s business partner, so just calm down, okay?”
“I’m not mad that there’s a guy up there—I’m mad because you didn’t say anything about it.” Brian’s voice rose.
“Okay, okay!” Maddy glanced at David nervously. “I can’t talk right now.”
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“Whatever,” Brian said sullenly. “Have fun with that asshole.”
“Look, stop. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Yeah, if you can fit me into your busy schedule.” He hung up. Maddy stood still for a second, breathing a little hard. Then she turned back toward David, who was watching her as he tried to juggle three little stones.
“Hey, look, I’ve almost got this—”
“Why did you do that?” Maddy demanded. The force of her words surprised her.
He caught the stones and stared at her, his mouth open a little.
“That was really inconsiderate, David!” she cried. He blinked. “Sorry.” He held his hands up like he was surrendering. “It was just a joke. Why are you so mad?”
“That was my boyfriend, idiot!”
“Ohh,” he said, realization dawning on his face. He fell back a few steps. “Wow. Sorry.”
“You already said that.” Maddy turned around, trying to control herself. Why was she freaking out? It was just a stupid joke. She usually didn’t get so upset about things like this. She shook her head. “Look, I’m just tired. It’s been a long morning.”
David nodded in agreement. “Yeah.” He looked at her as if he was seeing something different. “Tell your boyfriend I’m sorry the next time you talk to him.”
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“Sure,” Maddy agreed. They stared at each other for a second. As David turned around and headed toward the little house in the next field, Maddy’s stomach sank. Their houses were only a field apart, but they lived in totally different worlds.
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Chapter Eleven
!
Maddy wandered along the sidewalk. After a couple of awkwardly quiet cleaning days with David, she had decided she needed a little alone time when she woke up this morning. A bike ride into town and a little retail therapy were just what she needed to clear her head.
Maddy stopped and gazed into a boutique window. A gauzy, deconstructed silk dress floated from a hanger. She squinted at the price tag: $1,500. For something that looked like a cat had tangled with it? She snorted and walked on.
The next shop was all hand-milled local soaps, body scrubs, and perfumes. Mmm. Maddy inhaled the scent of bergamot floating from the open door. But as she 94
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moved toward the entrance, she caught a flutter of cloth out of the corner of her eye. She turned around. A stall was set up across the street, with large, heavy rugs hanging from horizontal poles. The strong breeze sent a few swaying gently back and forth. Maddy started to turn back to the soap store, but something about the rugs made her turn around again and cross the street.
“Hi,” she said to the little woman sitting in the stall. The woman’s hair hung in a long gray braid over one shoulder, and her face was as wrinkled as a raisin. But her eyes were shiny black and sparkled with mischief. She smiled at Maddy and nodded.
“I weave all of these myself,” she said in a gravelly voice, gesturing to the huge pieces of fabric hanging around her like a Bedouin tent.
“They’re beautiful,” Maddy said automatically, fingering one. Then she looked more closely. They really were beautifuclass="underline" thick and heavy, with rich colors that glowed like jewels. They were unusual, too. Some were woven flat and neatly bound, but others were fantasy creations with metallic fabrics and odd shapes. Maddy bent to examine one huge rustic concoction of cream and brown wool. Strips of fabric hung off it at various points, accentuating its rough, uneven border.