But there were moments when he could actually picture himself living on the farm with Rachel. Those moments occurred at the oddest times—while he was chopping potatoes for dinner or when they were standing at the gate to the goat pen, watching the kids jump and play. This morning it had come when she handed him a mug of coffee.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on up there?”
Dermot looked over the edge of the roof and waved at Eddie. The package of shingles was nestled inside the bucket and he pulled on the rope.
A few moments later, Eddie appeared at the top of the ladder. He clambered onto the roof before Dermot had a chance to stop him, nimbly sitting down next to Dermot with a satisfied smile.
“If Rachel catches you up here, she’s going to kill me,” Dermot warned.
The old man grinned. “At my age, I can do whatever I want. I don’t take my orders from her.” He paused. “Although it seems that you do.”
“I work for her. She’s the boss.”
“You know what I mean. I can see that something’s changed between you. You two used to act like lovesick fools.”
“We were not—”
“Don’t think I didn’t know what was goin’ on,” Eddie said, wagging his finger at Dermot. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. There was a spark there, somethin’ special. I don’t know what happened between you, but whatever it was, I expect the spark is still there.”
“We just decided it would be better if—”
“Don’t give me that bull. What the hell is better about this? The two of you mopin’ around? How is that better?”
Eddie had barely said more than five words to him before this and now he was lecturing him on his relationship with Rachel? This didn’t seem real, Dermot mused. But then, Eddie had known Rachel her whole life. Maybe he could offer some valuable advice.
“It’s the way Rachel wants it,” Dermot said.
“Oh, don’t be such a namby-pamby. Take control.” Eddie frowned. “I had a spark once. Shoulda married her, but I didn’t. Her name was Mary Ellen Duncan. I wasted too much time and some other fella caught her eye and that was the end of it for me. We coulda been happy. We coulda had a good life, but I was too dang polite to tell her how I felt.”
“Carpe diem,” Dermot murmured.
“What are we talking about now?”
“Carpe diem. It’s Latin. Seize the day. But what if I don’t know how I feel?” Dermot asked.
Eddie waved his hand dismissively. “Then figure it out. Take off your short pants and be a man. Don’t be a mouse. Because, I’ll tell you one thing. When she leaves this farm and goes back to the city, there’s goin’ to be all kinds of men who’ll come courting. And I’m not sure you’d be able to stand the competition. You’re not that good-lookin’.”
“Well, thanks for the advice,” Dermot said. “I appreciate it.”
Eddie shook his head. “Don’t just sit there. Do something about it. Carpe your diem.”
“Any suggestions?”
“I suggest you take her out for ice cream. Rachel likes ice cream. Buy her a cone at Ivy’s and sit yourself down and have a nice talk. It will do wonders, mark my words.”
“Ice cream. All right, I could do that. That’s about all I can afford right now.”
“Well, do it, then,” he said. “Climb down that ladder and make a date. Now. Before you lose your courage.”
Dermot groaned, then swung his leg over the ladder. “You better get down before she sees you up here.”
“I will,” Eddie said, grinning. “You have a good evening, now.”
Dermot grabbed his shirt from the porch rail and slipped into it as he crossed the yard. He found her surrounded by goats in the paddock near the milking barn. She held one of the kids in her arms, laughing as he nibbled at her hair.
At first, he was reluctant to interrupt her. She looked so pretty, so happy. She was dressed in a loose cotton sundress, her hair full from the humidity in the air. He clenched his fingers as he thought about the last time he’d touched her, buried his face in her hair, pressed his lips to her neck—he drew a ragged breath—and lost himself in the warmth of her body.
Dermot stood on the lowest rail of the gate and braced his hands on the top edge. “I see I’ve been replaced,” he called.
She turned and looked at him. “Hey.”
“I used to be the one who nibbled on your hair. Or have you forgotten already?”
She set the kid down and walked over to the gate. “Are you done for the night?”
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I am. And I was wondering if you’d like to drive into town and get some ice cream. It’s a beautiful Friday night.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yeah, maybe I am. Things have been a little tense lately. Would you go out on a date with me?”
She studied him for a long moment then shrugged.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
He opened the gate for her and she stepped out of the pen. Dermot draped his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “What else is there to do in small-town Wisconsin on a Friday night besides watch goats?”
She thought for a long moment. “There’s a football game at the high school. And you can usually find a bingo game somewhere in town, at one of the churches or at the fire hall. And the stores on Center Street stay open late. We could go hang out at Meller’s Five-and-Dime or Big Jimmy’s Hardware.”
“All right,” he said, “we have choices.”
She reached up and grabbed his hand where it rested on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s start with the ice cream.”
They hopped in the truck and headed off to Mapleton. There was only one place for ice cream, Ivy’s Drive-In. Dermot swung the truck beneath the overhang, and a minute later, a carhop put a tag on the windshield and stood next to the driver’s door, awaiting their order.
They both ordered a cone, then hopped out of the truck and walked around to the back. Rachel boosted herself up on the open tailgate, her slender legs dangling.
“I love nights like this,” she said. “So warm and so perfect. Makes me wish winter would never come.”
“I bet it’s beautiful around here in the winter,” Dermot said. “I’d like to see it.”
She bumped his shoulder. “You would not love the winters here. They’re cold and windy. And you don’t have to say things like that.”
“I’m not supposed to say something I really mean?” He grabbed her hand. “I don’t want to argue with you, Rachel. I think we should spend our last few weeks enjoying ourselves.”
The carhop appeared with their ice cream cones, defusing the tension between them. Dermot took a bite and smiled. “Raspberry twirl,” he said. “Good choice. What did you get?”
“I’m just a vanilla girl,” Rachel said.
“You are not vanilla,” Dermot said. He leaned close and dropped a kiss on her lips, licking his as he drew back. “Yum.”
“That’s about as exciting as it’s going to get,” she teased.
“I