Break The Line Read online

  “Damn it,” I say to the empty kitchen. I throw the blackened muffin tin into the trash and open the back door, letting the smoke filter out of the room.

  I walk back out into the lobby and my mama is talking to Benson, who is leaning over the counter and giving her his best smile. I shake my head at him as I walk up behind her. “Might wanna order a new muffin tin, Mama.”

  “Mr. Howell was just telling me how appreciative he is of you giving him a hand yesterday,” Mama says, with a look on her face I can’t quite place.

  “Please, just Benson,” he says, and my mama nods her head in agreement. “I was just asking Danni-Rose here if she would join me for a croissant, it’s the least I can do after everything she did for me yesterday.” He has a clever grin spread across his face.

  “You thanked me last night, and I already told you, I can’t. I’m working.” I know what he is doing. There’s no way my mama is going to let him get away with it.

  “Danni-Rose, where are your manners,” my mama says, with her hands on her hips once again. I blink back at her, completely shocked she is playing along with his little game. What in the world is everyone around here thinking? First Liza, now my own flesh and blood.

  “Of course, she will accept your gratitude, Benson. Forgive her, she’s just got her panties in a bunch because she can’t cook worth a dang.” She pulls the hand towel off her shoulder and swats at my bottom with it, carefree to the fact I’m a twenty-four-year-old grown woman.

  “Mama,” I say, completely flabbergasted as Benson barks out a laugh.

  “Benson, just give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll wrap you and Danni up a nice little picnic. Have her take you up to Cedar Bluff; you can’t leave our fine town without seeing the view from there. Make sure ya’ll stop by the house and load up the four wheelers too; there’s some good muddin’ trails,” she says, not waiting for a response or rebuttal as she sashays herself through the kitchen doors.

  “Oh. My. God,” I say to my mother’s back, more embarrassed than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  “Well, that settles it. Something tells me no one says no to Miz Penny,” he says, trying his best not to let a satisfied expression breach his face.

  I turn my head to argue with him, to tell him he and my mama are completely out of their minds if either one of them thinks I’m going along with this, but something about the way his eyes are looking at my mouth stops me. I narrow my eyes at him. “Fine,” I say, pulling the apron over my head and dusting the flour off my jeans.

  Mama comes through the kitchen door and hands Benson a large paper sack, I’m sure filled to the top with goodies. “You two have a nice time, and Benson you’d better drive; Danni and Liza tied one on last night, and I think her mood is getting more sour by the minute,” she says, and winks at me when I scowl at her.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll take good care of her,” he says, opening the bakery door for me.

  I stomp outside, not entirely sure if I’m madder at my mother, or at myself for feeling not half as angry about this situation as I’m pretending to be.

  Chapter Five

  Benson

  She’s standing with her hands on her hips, staring at my fishing truck. The sponsored truck wrap is far from that ugly Tennessee-orange the sunglasses company tried to push on me. The deep crimson-red emblem engulfs the entire ride, and I don’t have to see her face to know she would rather be anywhere than in a fisherman’s vehicle.

  “No way,” she says, shaking her head in defiance.

  “It’s just a truck. Don’t worry, I don’t have any big bad fish stored under the seats,” I say, opening the door for her and holding my hand out for her to get in. “You know, you don’t have to put up a fight about everything.” I try not to stare at her backside as she attempts to climb into the raised passenger seat, but I do anyway. I shut the door and jog around to the other side.

  “So, where do I go?” I look over at her and she’s staring at me, somewhat in contempt but also something else. It reminds me of last night when she kept trying to hide her smile. Why is she so afraid of letting loose?

  “I want to go to my house first, I need to get Beau,” she says.

  “Who’s Beau? Is that what you named the shotgun you plan to shoot me with?” I say, starting the truck, and she lets a laugh escape.

  “My dog, he likes it up there on the mountain, and I haven’t been home much the past couple of days. Don’t worry, my big bad lab won’t scratch up your pretty truck,” she says with a smirk. Touché. “Head down this road, and take a left at the stop light,” she says, fixing her gaze out the windshield.

  “Already inviting me back to your place, huh?” I say, teasing her. She lets a small smile play on her lips.

  “Drive, Angler,” she says, and I hit the gas.

  * * * *

  “Turn here,” she says just a few feet from a road lined with pecan trees. There’s a house at the corner and she waves to an older woman sitting on the front porch. The woman only returns her wave with a confused scowl, and Danni giggles.

  She points to a dirt road, and I park in front of a small green house the color of lake algae. A large cream-colored dog bounds off the porch toward my truck, and Danni hops out whistling to him. “Hey boy, it’s me.” He runs past her and straight to me, his large paws hitting me in the chest, his slobber coating my face.

  “Whoa, you aren’t even going to take me to dinner first?” I say, laughing at the onslaught of dog breath and kisses from Beau.

  “Huh, guess he likes you,” she says, with a perplexed look on her face.

  “Well, not everyone judges a book by its fishing-boat cover,” I say, leaning down to pick up a stick buried in the dirt. “Go get it!” I yell, throwing it through the air. Beau takes off running after the small branch, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. He brings it back, and drops his offering at my feet.

  “I’m going to go get his bowl and bottle of water to take…” she trails off, and I turn my head to look at what has her attention. I’m crouched down in the dirt, Beau’s head in my hands and I’m scratching his ears.

  “What is it?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders. She’s staring at me intently.

  “Nothing . . . you just reminded me of someone. Just now. The way you . . . the way Beau…” She stops, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll be right back,” she says, waving the thought away with her hand, and shaking her head. She walks quickly into the house, and Beau and I follow up the steps to the porch swing. She may not have invited me in, but she didn’t say I couldn’t enjoy the shade of her porch. Beau leaps up onto the swing next to me and lays his head in my lap. I lean my head back along the wooded headrest and close my eyes, scratching the rough fur along his back.

  I hear Danni clear her throat, and I open my eyes to see her standing in the door frame, watching me. “Do you want anything to drink?” she asks, and the harsh expression that was cast over her face all morning has unexplainably slipped away.

  “That depends, is it homemade? Because I witnessed your kitchen skills in action this morning,” I say, but with a smile to let her know I’m joking.

  “Bottle of water or can of soda?” she says, raising her eyebrow.

  “I’ll take whatever you have to offer, Danni,” I say, holding her gaze for a second longer than she usually lets me.

  “Do you want to come in? Maybe use the restroom before we go?”

  “Good idea, Beau here seems pretty comfy, though.”

  “Beau, come on boy,” she says, slapping her thigh for him to come to her. His only response is to nuzzle into my legs and give her a grumble that has us both laughing.

  “I think you remind him of someone, too,” she says, and the corner of her mouth turns up slightly and she shrugs her shoulder. She walks over to the swing and crouches in front of us.

  “I know, boy,�
� she says, wrapping her arms around his furry body and laying her head on top of his. “Me too.” I raise my hand, wanting to run it through her hair, but I stop myself.

  “Ok,” she says, standing up and pulling Beau off the swing with her hands. “We have to get going or we are going to miss the sunset.” She turns her head and swipes at a tear on her cheek. I look at Beau, pretending I didn’t see.

  I watch Beau and Danni jog toward the truck; she lowers the tailgate and he hops into the back. I can’t take my eyes off her. I feel like the line between her and me could break at any moment, and I’m doing everything I can to give her enough slack to keep it from snapping.

  “Hey Angler, there’s a trailer around back, think we can hook it up to your tow hitch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Pull the truck around and set it up; I’ll go get the four-wheeler. You up for a ride?” she asks with a playful grin across her face. I can’t help but feel like I’m getting hustled again.

  “As long as you don’t plan on slinging me off the shoulder of the trails,” I say seriously with my hands on my hips. She laughs in return but doesn’t answer the question when she walks to an outdoor building beside her house. Something about the view of this woman walking away has me anxious to get her on the back of the four-wheeler, arms around my waist. I find myself quickening my pace to get to the top of that mountain.

  * * * *

  “It’s my four-wheeler, so I get to drive.” Danni has her arms crossed in front of her chest, one foot propped on the step-up of the ATV.

  “No way, woman; I let you drive and I may not make it back to my hotel tonight.”

  “You don’t know the trails like I do.”

  “Look,” I say, scooting to the back of the machine, “I barely fit back here, my legs are too long, plus I just wanna drive.” She eyes me skeptically before letting out a hot puff of air. She rolls her eyes, and motions for me to take the front seat position.

  The four-wheeler hums to life as I turn the key, and Danni jogs back from the truck with two helmets in her hand. She slides onto the back, knees gripping my waist, and I have to swallow hard to keep focused.

  “Don’t drive too—” she begins, but I don’t let her finish her sentence before I hit the gas hard, forcing the four-wheeler between the trees onto the trail. Her hands fly around my waist and grip my T-shirt between her fingertips.

  “Better hold on!” I look back over my shoulder, grinning at her, and her eyes are shining with delight she’s attempting to cover with a scowl. It only makes me want to go faster. She’s going to admit she’s having a good time with me one way or another. I dart between trees and down the mountain crest, and every once in a while, chancing a look back at her. The scene from the mountain side is like something off an outdoor magazine cover. She points to a trail just to the left of the one we are on and I turn quickly, hitting a hole and sending our asses into the air. We land hard back on the leather seat, laughing through the adrenaline.

  There’s a mud puddle covering the entire length of the dampened trail about fifty yards ahead, she senses my plan only seconds before I send the four-wheeler soaring through it.

  “Benson! Don’t you dare…” But it’s too late. Mud splatters against my face and soaks through my shirt. Danni squeals behind me, burying her face between my shoulder blades. I look back at her once we make it through and her hair is caked in thick brown mud, there’s a smear of dirt across her chin, and just above that is one of the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen playing on her lips. She’s laughing hysterically, and it sends shock waves into my chest. The things I would do to get her to smile like that…

  I turn the four-wheeler off, removing my helmet and shaking the muck from my hair. Danni hops off and flicks chunks of wet dirt off her jeans, her gray T-shirt splattered with freckles of mud. She shakes her auburn hair from the helmet and catches me staring.

  “That’s the last time I let you drive.” She places the helmet on the seat and pulls her hair on top of her head, securing it with a ponytail holder from around her wrist.

  “You liked it.” I take several steps toward her, watching her face grow anxious. I stop only inches from her body and raise my hand, wiping the mud from her jaw line. Her throat moves under my palm.

  “We should go back, we need to check on Beau.” She grabs her helmet and shoves it back over her head before I have a chance to satisfy any of the cravings I’m having. “And this time I’m driving.”

  * * * *

  “I told you to go before we left!” Danni hollers from across the clearing.

  “What’s wrong with this bush?” I say, looking over my shoulder. She turns her head away quickly, pretending she wasn’t looking. I chuckle under my breath.

  Beau sprints past me and into the woods, chasing a squirrel. “Beau!” Danni calls, and then whistles for him to come back.

  “Ahh let him play,” I say, walking back to the blanket she has spread out in the grass. I zip my fly only a few feet from her and throw her a wink. Her eyes widen slightly and she’s once again pretending to be offended. I can tell she isn’t, though. For some reason, I find myself wanting to break down whatever wall she has built up. Every smile pulled from her is a small victory.

  I look out across the clearing to the lake that is wrapped completely around her home town. Off in the distance I can make out the river dam. Little specks on the water indicate sailboats floating on the water tops below, steering clear of the barges making their way toward the dam. The air is so clear up here. I lay back on my side with my head propped on my hand, and look across the blanket to Danni-Rose. “It sure is beautiful,” I say, and she turns her head to me to see that I’m not really looking at the lake at all. All I see is the way the sun highlights the freckles splattered across her skin, and the way the breeze shuffles her hair off her shoulder. She holds my stare for a moment before looking away. “How old are you, Danni?” I ask, trying another angle, trying anything to get her to speak.

  “Twenty-four, my birthday is next week, though. So, twenty-five by the time you leave this town and hit the next lake on your tour. You?”

  “Twenty-nine, and that might be a while. Your mechanic seems hell-bent on taking as much time and money from me as he can. The part for my motor won’t be here until Thursday, and the labor will take several days. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

  “Well, at least your speed boat is broken, and you won’t be terrorizing the waters while you’re here,” she says, chancing a glance in my direction. I don’t smile at her this time, I only stare at her.

  “Don’t you think that’s enough, Danni? I hear you, ok? I understand,” I say with an edge to my voice.

  “No, Benson . . . you couldn’t possibly understand,” she says, looking down and picking a loose thread on the patchwork quilt. I watch her pull at the string, creating a crease along the edges of the material.

  I let the silence linger for a moment. “What happened?” I risk asking. I’ll never get anywhere with her if I don’t try. I reach my hand out and place it over hers, stopping her nervous assault on the blanket. She doesn’t jerk away, she only looks down at my hand covering hers. And though the Alabama sun is warm against our skin, I see the chill bumps raise along her arms. She may think she’s hiding how she feels, but I’m honed-in to every breath, to every move she makes, and I know that I’m winning the war.

  “I can’t fix something I don’t know anything about, Danni. Just try,” I say, aware that it sounds like I’m pleading with her. I don’t care, my pride never got me anywhere that I needed to be anyways.

  I watch when she flips her hand underneath my touch, and twists her fingers into mine. There’s something about the way her hand fits into my palm. If a fishing rod ever felt like coming home, then her hand holding mine feels like going to heaven. She looks up, her eyes on mine, and my eyes fall to her lips.

  “Someone I loved .
. . very much . . . lost everything because of someone like you. And this,” she says, holding our entangled hands up, “no matter how good it feels, no matter how much I want it, feels like a betrayal,” she reveals, and the look on her face tells me that this battle can never be won in a day.

  I’m opening my mouth to protest, to ask her to let me try, when a painful wail echoes from the forest. Without having to ask, I know that it belongs to Beau. We are both on our feet in an instant, and we take off running in the direction we last saw him go. “Beau!” I call out into the trees, and in the distance, I can hear him yelp. Danni is right behind me.

  “Hurry!” she says, with a heavy note of panic in her voice.

  The thorns rip at my sleeves and I push my body as fast as it can go. Twigs swipe at my face, and I can feel the sweat dripping down my back. I stop, and Danni runs smack into my back. I turn around, holding my arm around her waist. “Beau, where are you, boy?” I call, listening for him. Danni is looking around the woods, wide-eyed and terrified. I hear a faint whine to my left, and I take off running.

  I see his limp body lying in a bed of pine needles. He doesn’t raise his head when we approach, and his breathing is fast and erratic. “Beau! No!” Danni drops to her knees beside him, stroking his head.

  I look down at his front leg and see two puncture wounds. My eyes scan the forest floor, my heart stopping when I find my target. “Danni, don’t move. He was bitten . . . by a snake, and it’s curled up about ten feet to your right,” I say, the unmistakable rattler sounding its alarm. Her eyes clench shut, and she wraps her entire body around Beau, protecting him.

  I reach behind my back, sliding my fingers around the smooth leather sheath attached to my belt, and pull my knife out.