Chapter 2 - The Draw of Beauty - and VW Love

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Gage jumped and let out an embarrassing squeak. Clearing his throat, he whirled around to regard the speaker. It was a woman about his age. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, a long-sleeved muslin blouse, leggings, and galoshes. She also had gardening gloves on and held pruning shears in one hand. She could have been one of the workers, but he surmised that she was more.

Despite her tan, the woman obviously had fairer skin than the usual local. The long braid that trailed over one shoulder was also brown and seemingly curly, as opposed to the naturally straight black hair of most of the local women. Her voice was also well-bred, and her English, fluent and unaccented.

"Wh-what do you mean?" He stammered.

She gave a husky laugh. "You were deliberating so hard on whether to eat that berry or not. It took you about five minutes to finally go for it."

The woman's laugh sent a pleasant ripple down Gage's spine. Trying to hide his reaction, Gage gave a sheepish smile. "It's important to weigh the pros and cons, look before you leap, consider the dangers and consequences, et cetera, et cetera."

The woman grinned back. "That's true. In this case, however, I can assure you that these berries are okay to eat right off the bush. They're organic and clean, except, of course, those that may have splatters of bird dropping or laces of spider web."

She removed her hat to fan herself. Gage almost swallowed his tongue. Even with her hair flattened by sweat and hat, her clothes sporting spots of dirt and juice stains, she stunned him. Her face was flawless. Timeless. A classic face if he ever saw one, oval with a perfect bone structure – none of those interesting supermodel angles. Her forehead was wide, her brows naturally arched, her cheekbones high, and her eyes almond with irises an interesting shade of dark gray, almost smoke, except that they shone silver in the light. Her nose was delicately straight, and her mouth was nicely shaped and plumped – not overly pouty like those Jolie pillow lips. Her face belonged on a master's canvas – a vision of loveliness, no dimples on her cheeks or chin. The only concession to flawed humanity and cuteness was the light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.

Gage tried to regain his bearings and intelligence – with difficulty. "In that case," He gave a strangled chuckle and picked another berry from the bush. It was a fat one and when he bit into it, it spurted juice that dripped down his arm and rained on his gray shirt. Real suave.

"Uh-oh," the woman grimaced. "I hope that's not a favorite shirt. You can get it out though. Just soak it in some vinegar, water, and detergent."

"Nah," Gage wiped the juice running down his arm on the shirt. "I know proper fruit-picking attire. This is an old shirt. The stain actually makes it prettier. I'll probably eat other berries for more colors, so then my shirt will go better with my Kombi."

"Oh yeah?" She certainly sounded interested. "What kind is it?"

Recognizing a kindred VW nut, Gage proudly replied, "A 1968 Split Screen Microbus Deluxe."

His companion whistled, "Nice! What color is it?"

You couldn't wipe the delirious grin off of Gage's face if you held a gun to his head. "Right now it's a somewhat gaudy orange. I just bought it. I'm thinking of changing it to maroon or black."

The woman's brows furrowed, and Gage thought that looked charming. What a sap! He wanted to shake himself to jar some sense into place. "Hang on. I know that bus. Did you buy it from Mang Leo?"

That gave him a pause. "You know Leo?"

"Yes! We're both members of the Kombi Club, and he was the one who installed the AC in mine." That smile sent Gage's heart galloping, his attraction growing by the second. He feared cardiac arrest if he didn't get some control over his reaction.

"You have a Kombi too?" Gage's heart thudded with excitement. Like a fool, he wondered if God had finally led him to his real soulmate. He wanted to smack his own face at the path of his thoughts. Didn't he learn from the whole fiasco with Lauren?

Meanwhile, the woman was nodding enthusiastically. "I live in it. It's a 1969 Kombi-Westfalia camper van. It's parked down there by the creek." She gestured behind her. The trees blocked any view of the water, but the sound of the current is easily audible.

Okay, that's it. His life lessons be danged! It was obvious that God sent down this woman to be the mother of his children. He tried to behave like a sane and rational person. "Wow. There's a Kombi Club?"

Her eyes glimmered like partially tarnished coins at him. "Yep! It's nationwide, but the island branch is very close-knit and active. We do runs about once a month. You might want to check it out." She took off her right glove. "I'm Beth Cohen, by the way."

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