The Maverick's Summer Love. Christyne Butler

her arms bare and susceptible to a ridge of goose bumps that rose on her skin.

      She stared at the spot where a simple wooden bridge used to cross this section of the creek.

      The majestic upper falls were still two-thirds of the way to the summit of Falls Mountain, but here in these twin open fields, popular with so many of the townspeople for parties and picnics, the lower falls were a more gentle cascade of water over an outcropping of boulders and rocks.

      A month ago the flowing water must have been anything but gentle.

      “I can’t believe it’s gone.” She rubbed her arms to chase away the tingling. “The bridge had been here a long time.”

      Dean dropped to one knee, closely examining the broken sections of timber embedded into the ground, the only parts of the structure still there. “From what I heard, the rising water was more than enough to wash it clean away. How sturdy was the bridge?”

      “Very. My daddy and his friends built it back when he and my mom were dating.” Unable to look at the empty space any longer, Shelby backed away. “He told me their crowd used to come here a lot when they were teenagers. Back when no one else used to. At the time there’d been just a big old log across the divide until the guys from the high school wood shop decided to make it easier to cross.”

      Dean rose, gathering the backpack that carried their lunch, a small cooler and a well-loved quilt in his hands. He joined her again on the trail they’d been following for the past twenty minutes or so. “I wonder if it’s on the town’s master list of structures that need to be rebuilt or replaced.”

      “Doubtful.” Shelby shrugged, working to add indifference to her tone as they walked. “With all the destruction down in the valley, I bet no one has even thought about the bridge.”

      The truth was she didn’t want to care about the bridge anymore. It’d be one more thing that would make leaving harder when the time came.

      Right up there with her mother.

      As much as she’d tried to convince her mama that moving away from Rust Creek Falls was the best thing for her and Caitlin, the older woman refused to even think about going with them.

      Even after Shelby had finally shared how she’d been turned down for a teaching position early this morning while Caitlin slept.

      “I’ll check tomorrow at the weekly meeting.”

      She stopped, Dean’s words cutting into her thoughts, and looked at him. “Why?”

      “Because it’s important.” Dean stopped, too, his gaze serious. “Not as much compared to someone’s home or business, but that bridge is part of the town’s history. It’ll probably take a while. Heck, the calendar is so jammed it might not be until next spring, but that bridge should be—will be—rebuilt.”

      The conviction in his voice warmed her deep inside, chasing away the chill from the sight of the splintered ruins.

      Dean Pritchett continued to surprise her.

      Like when she’d called Tyrone at the garage about her car yesterday morning only to find out Dean had already made arrangements to have the vehicle towed there. And again later that same night when she’d expected him to show up at the Ace, and she’d eyed the front door every time someone walked in.

      Only he never did, even after she’d dawdled at closing time until Rosey hurried her along, agreeing to give Shelby a ride home.

      Then today, he’d shown up looking impossibly gorgeous in jeans and a simple white T-shirt beneath an open plaid shirt in shades of green that matched his eyes.

      He’d practically shoved a bouquet of daisies into her hand as if they were burning his fingers. He said he’d gotten them at Daisy’s Donuts. The owner always had bunches of her namesake flowers for sale, and when he’d stopped by to get dessert he thought she might like them.

      She did. She loved them.

      No one, other than her parents, had ever given her flowers before. She’d been so touched by the gesture that she’d almost invited Dean inside while she put them in a vase full of water. Thankfully, he’d already stepped off the back stairs, saying he’d wait in his truck for her.

      “Shelby? Did you hear me?”

      Realizing she’d missed what Dean had asked, she focused her attention and found he’d moved off the path to a shady area a few feet away at the base of a group of birch trees. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

      “I asked if this was an okay place to lay out the blanket.” He pointed to the grass. “Or did you want to keep walking?”

      She had planned to move farther up the winding path after stopping to see what was left of the bridge. Just in case anyone else in town had the same idea to come to the park for a picnic.

      Not that she was ashamed to be seen with him. Just the opposite. The last thing she wanted was to run into someone like Darlene. There were others in town who felt the same way the cheerleader did about her. They might not be as straightforward nasty as her former teammate, but the insults and hurtful barbs did manage to hit their intended target every once in a while.

      Then again, despite the beautiful day, there hadn’t been any cars in the lower parking lot and no one else was in sight now. Maybe she should be worried, not about someone ruining their date, but about being out here in an isolated area with a man she barely knew.

      “Shelby?”

      Realizing she’d once again drifted off, she forced a quick laugh from her suddenly tight throat. “There I go, spacing out on you. I’m so sorry. Yes, this spot is perfect.”

      “Rough night at the bar?” Dean set the backpack and cooler at his feet and unfurled the quilt. “You do look a bit tired.”

      “Don’t you know it’s impolite to tell a woman she looks anything but perfect?” Shelby knelt at the edge of the patchwork quilt and smoothed the material with her hands.

      Dean mirrored her action, then reached across the blanket to take her hand. Surprised, she looked up and found concern in his gaze.

      “I just meant if you want to cut this afternoon short—” he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze “—I’d understand.”

      Refusing to allow anything, including her fears, to mess up this afternoon, Shelby knew at that moment there was no place else she’d rather be. She might not know much about Dean, but she was certain of one thing.

      He was a good man.

      And that scared her in every way possible.

      She eased from his touch, using that same hand to tuck her hair behind one ear. “No, I don’t want to go home. Everything was fine last night at work. Like most nights.”

      “I was planning to stop in, but I had to drive to Missoula to pick up supplies. I ended up running into a friend from high school, so I stayed overnight, crashing at his place.”

      “Well, you didn’t miss much. What happened Friday night was…unusual.”

      “Meaning Rosey doesn’t always play oldies music as a way to get customers to leave at closing time?” Dean sat, placing the backpack and the cooler between them.

      Smiling, Shelby joined him but made sure to stay on her side of the blanket. “No, that she always does. Sometimes she even hurries their exit along by singing.”

      “Not much of a voice?”