He grabbed the picnic basket from the backseat and followed Mandy to the riverbank. She carried the fishing gear to the water’s edge.

“Which waterway is this?” The river turned forty-five degrees and created a dog-legged V in front of them. He spread a blanket on the soft grass where the woods curved around the small clearing.

“The Long River.” She dropped a small box and a net in the tall weeds next to the fly rods.

The trees blocked the breeze, and the sun warmed Danny’s skin. Scanning the trees and river, he peeled off his sweatshirt and pulled his Hard Rock T-shirt back down over his stomach. Something pulled him back to Mandy. She flushed and turned her attention to her gear. Had she been checking out his abs? Nice. “Popular spot?”

“Not here. This is my special fishing hole.” Mandy fiddled around with the rods and reels and line and other things he couldn’t identify.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting the lines ready.” She tied a fuzzy fake insect to a section of fishing line, then walked to the riverbank. Holding the line in one hand and the rod in the other, she whisked the tip back and forth. The line whipped smoothly through the air and soared across the water. It landed with a light plop on the moving water. She let it sink for a few seconds, tugged it a bit, let it sink some more. Then she reeled it in and repeated the motions. He watched her cast for a while. As she got into the flow and rhythm of her task, her face and posture relaxed. She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up. “Want to give it a try?”

“Sure.” Remembering the shooting lesson and all the touching involved, he sprang to his feet and joined her. The river flowed past with a quiet, peaceful rush. Mandy handed him the rod. His bandaged hand was limited to guiding the line, but his fingers weren’t trembling today. She gave him basic instructions and adjusted his grip, her fingers soft on his bare forearms.

Then she backed away. “Go ahead.”

Bummer. Fishing just got less fun, but he supposed standing next to a beginner flailing around with a sharp object wasn’t smart.

He managed a few weak attempts, but his bandaged hand got in the way. Not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s spasms, Danny lowered the rod. He was going to give this rest thing a fair trial. Maybe he needed to let his stubbornness go as well as his past anger. “Here, you take it back. I’ll try again after my hand is all healed up.” He turned.

Mandy was shrugging out of her bulky sweater. Oh, yeah. The gray T-shirt she wore underneath was snug, showcasing her tight little body. Her handgun was in its holster behind her right hip.