The Belle and the Beard by Kate Canterbary (carter reed TXT) 📗

"It will be a mess later." Then, because I couldn't help it, not really, I added, "Come on now, Peach. Let's get you out of here for a bit. You need a break."

After a pause, Jasper nodded and marched into the house. I stared after her longer than necessary, longer than made any damn sense. Then I grabbed some heavy-duty gloves from the back of my truck. That burned-out oven would be better off cooling on the gravel-paved path along the opposite side of my house for now. She didn't need any more reminders.

When that was handled, I stored the gallon of stew my mother had plied me with in the fridge. That was when I spotted today's batch of biscuits—and Jasper's latest note.

Linden,

I could've explained why my husband left last week. What's changed?

~J

"Isn't that a great fucking question," I muttered to myself.

For the next five minutes, I waited in my truck, alternately screwing around on my phone and glancing next door. Rare was it that I brought anyone along with me to check trees but rare was Jasper. That was all I could say about this decision.

Soon enough, she stepped out her front door and I was smacked upside the head with my mistake. Jasper in skin-hugging yoga pants only emphasized how much those skirts and dresses of hers concealed. The loose-fitting shirt that skimmed her hips made me think about fisting the fabric and twisting it around my hand. The ponytail swishing behind her had the same effect.

I'd created this trap and now I'd fallen into it.

"Hey," Jasper said, a bit breathless as she opened the door. She settled in beside me and shot an arched eyebrow in my direction. "What?"

A grunt sounded in my throat before I managed, "Nothing."

"Oooookay."

We drove in silence for several minutes but it was comfortable silence. It was the sort of silence I favored in the morning, between the states of sleep and stepping into the woods for the first time that day.

I looked after all the trees on public land in Scituate, which was handy since I did that in Hingham and Cohasset too, and these towns shared craggy, skeleton key borders. Today my concern was an old maple in the Conservation Park. This slab of protected land sat wedged between two golf courses and two rivers, with the Massachusetts Bay as its southeastern border. It was a coastal marsh with a relatively young woodland and the town was eager to preserve the land. It was one of my favorite spots on the southeast coast.

"I think it goes without saying but I don't want there to be any surprises. I am not what anyone would call an experienced hiker." Jasper scrunched up her nose as if such a thing mortified her. "In case that was unclear."

I pulled into a spot in the empty parking lot and smiled over at her. "Yeah. I figured that out."

"I mean," she continued, "I can handle it. I'm used to running in heels and I grew up on a big spread in the country. I have a basic knowledge. I'll manage perfectly well—"

"I like how you're rattling off your bona fides while also making it clear you refuse to put up with anything but flat, dry terrain."

She pulled on the haughty, no help needed here face she relied on so much. "I'm preparing you for what will happen if I am forced to scale a mountainside or get whacked in the face with a branch or fall in the mud."

I gestured to the sea-level terrain. "Do you see any mountains here?"

Not interested in answering, Jasper exited the truck and took off in the wrong direction, that ponytail swinging behind her. I'd spent a lot of time thinking about her hair. Fantasizing could also be an appropriate term for this new fixation of mine. All of my previous thoughts involved her long waves loose around her shoulders, often spilling down like The Birth of Venus right there in my bedroom. I'd never imagined her hair tied back in a ponytail, exposing her long neck and the pale, delicate skin there.

It effectively doubled my fantasies.

I whistled to her, hooking a thumb over my shoulder when she turned. "This way. That direction is the marsh and you will fall in something cold and wet if you keep going."

Jasper fell in step with me and we started down the trail.

I waited until the parking lot fell out of view before asking, "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right," she replied automatically. "It was just a toaster oven."

"Okay, sure," I murmured. "I can roll with that but what about the part where there was a fire in your kitchen?"

"Not what I expected when I started out this morning, that's true."

I touched her elbow, pointing to the left. "This way. There's a maple I want to see that's down here."

We veered off the trail and I stepped closer to Jasper. If I was going to keep her out of mud and clear the way of errant branches, I had to stay within grabbing range.

"How does this work?" she asked. "Do you keep track of all these trees?"

"Yep."

"Like, every single one?"

I bobbed my head. "Yep. Every single one."

"And…you do this in other places too? Other towns and…I don't know how that's possible."

"I have maps. Diagrams." I smiled at her. The yoga pants really were a mistake. Something about her dresses had trapped my attention between her hips and breasts, and I'd skipped her legs altogether. Those pants allowed for no such oversight. She was on the short side but strong and sturdy—and I knew sturdy wasn't a word I could toss into complimentary conversation but it was an important piece of Jasper I'd missed from the start. She was sturdy as hell. Maybe it was strange but I wasn't sure there was anything more attractive. "I don't have to rely on memory, if that's what you're asking."

She