by Abby Tyler
But now it was over. No doubt Jack thought that she had pulled her final, most devious prank on him. But calling his parents had come from her heart.
Even if it had broken hers. She wouldn’t cry about it, though. Not now, not ever.
She was strong. She’d nursed both her parents through their final days, and now Louisa James would get off this floor and turn on her computer, the one she’d bought so she could learn skills that would take her to the next part of her life.
And she would email the temp agency to say she was ready to start.
Then the next chapter of her life would begin.
When Jack thought about Louisa James, he couldn’t wrap his head around what she’d done.
Called his parents? Behind his back?
Anger flared up every time, and he straightened his police jacket with a sharp jerk. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been, or she would have consulted him before dragging his parents into his life again. His father had been just as bad as Jack remembered, maybe even worse.
But even so, he had to admit that his mother was a good call. She had stepped in as Ella’s caregiver, and she was amazingly devoted.
Not that Louisa hadn’t been. She had saved him. Delayed her own plans, set aside her own goals, to work for him.
Now that she wasn’t part of his daily life, he could ignore the emotions she had stirred. And make no mistake they had been mad, crazy feelings. What a ridiculous thing. Jack Stone and Louisa James. Nobody would have ever put them together. He felt like he’d awakened from a long, strange dream.
He clipped his equipment to his belt. In the other room, he could hear his mother crooning a little song to Ella. Something about it seemed familiar.
But that was impossible. He would’ve just been very small when he’d heard it last.
But what had Louisa told him? The songs you’re sung as an infant are the ones that stay with you all your life.
Hogwash. There were no scientific facts behind this. They couldn’t ask the babies. And you couldn’t interview adults decades later and have them tell you what they remembered from back then. He was proof of that.
Still, he found himself whistling the tune as he combed his hair in front of his bathroom mirror.
He headed into the living room, where his mother fed Ella a bottle on the sofa. She had slipped right into the role, a burp cloth over her shoulder and the baby in the crook of her elbow.
This was the first time he’d be leaving them alone together. “Are you all set for the day?” he asked. “This is a twelve-hour shift, but you have my phone number.”
“I’ve done this before,” she said. “Some things you never forget.”
He gave her a quick nod. “Thank you for stepping in.”
“So did you fire sweet Louisa? Is she out of a job now?”
He frowned. “Don’t worry about her. She had something lined up when she started working for me. I’m sure she’ll go back to that.”
“How can you know that? Opportunities don’t sit and wait two months.”
“It was just a temp agency. Temp agencies will be there till the dawn of time.” His voice had more bite to it than he intended, so he softened his next words. “She did me a great favor, stepping in when she did.”
His mother looked down at the baby as she said, “I think there was more going on than that. A normal nanny wouldn’t have called me, hoping I’d have a relationship with my grandchild.”
Louisa definitely hadn’t been a normal nanny. But it was over now, and he wouldn’t admit it anyway.
When he didn’t comment, his mother said, “Maybe she’ll still get a chance to have one of her own.”
He didn’t respond to that either. Louisa was no longer his problem.
But even as the thought ran through his head, his gut didn’t follow. It had been good, acting like a little family.
She’d cared. About Ella, and about him. Otherwise kissing the boss would have been a terrible employment mistake for both of them.
But he wasn’t going to say any of that out loud.
“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be off. You know my number.”
“You should stop by that florist on Town Square,” she said. “Send something to Louisa to thank her.”
“Are flowers appropriate?”
“Flowers are always appropriate.” She gazed down at the baby. “If you don’t, I’ll send them for you.”
He couldn’t have that. His mother’s note might be too gushy. She might send roses, which would signify love.
He didn’t love Louisa.
Did he?
All afternoon, through his patrols, he avoided Town Square and the florist. He didn’t want to think about those questions. Love. What a weird notion. It was based on what — kissing? Feeling? Wanting?
Respect made sense. It kept things orderly. And loyalty. You could rely on people who were loyal. He understood those.
Love was nothing. A whim. A fleeting emotion connected to random thoughts.
He still had much respect for Louisa and the work she’d done. He no longer required her loyalty to him or the baby.
What had the rest of it been? Love? Surely not. He didn’t know, but whatever it was, it had evaporated in the anger of her betrayal.
He strode into Applebottom Blossoms a scant ten minutes before closing time.
Both Topher and Danny were inside, sitting at a table strewn with rosebuds and small carnations. Several complete boutonnieres and corsages were neatly packaged in clear plastic boxes.
“Prom season?” he asked.
Topher looked up. His stylized blond hair looked like a magazine ad. Jack couldn’t imagine spending so much time in the morning to look like that for work.
“The busiest week of the year.”
“Except Homecoming,” Danny said. “That’s worse.”
Topher stuck a pin through the bottom of a boutonniere and set it in a box. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to send some flowers to Louisa James.”
When Topher and Danny turned to each other excitedly, he added quickly, “Professional flowers. Something simple to say thank you for helping me out.”
Both the men deflated. Topher stood up. “That’s just fine. We could do some pretty roses, and a little baby’s breath—”
“No,” Jack interrupted. “No roses. No baby’s breath. Both of those things are bad choices.”
Topher and Danny exchanged another look. “Okay, Officer Jack.” Topher moved toward a large cooler in the back corner and opened the door.
“How about some of these?” He pulled out several tall yellow things with a folded petal on the end that looked like a waffle cone.
“Those are fine,” Jack said.
“We could throw in one of these.” Out came a funny orange flower with triangular spikes.
“All that is just fine.”
“I’ll fill it out with very generic things,” Topher said. “Since this is strictly professional.”
Jack’s jaw tensed. Undoubtedly, these two men had heard all the swirling rumors.
“Just tell me what I owe you.”
Topher stuck the chosen flowers in a vase and popped it back in the cooler. He rang Jack up and charged his credit card.
“Sign the receipt,” Topher said, and Jack did so with his usual scribble.
Afterward, he no more stepped out onto the pavement when Topher ran out. “Officer Jack! You didn’t fill out the card!”
Jack waved him off. “You write it. Just say thank you for stepping in as nanny.”
“You sure?” Topher held out the small card.
He paused. “Make it sound professional.”
“Okay, if you’re sure that’s what you want.”
“I’m sure. Professional.”
“All right.” Topher turned and went back into the shop.
But as Jack climbed into his patrol car, he suddenly got concerned about what Topher might actually say on that card to Louis
a.
Chapter 20
Louisa was just starting to feel more in control of her life again when the knock came at her door the next day.
She tiptoed through the stacks of papers she had begun to organize on the floor of the living room. Estate files of her parents. Old tax forms. But more importantly, all her reports and scores related to the jobs she would soon be able to apply for when she started at the temp agency. She was moving forward. And probably, she was moving out of Applebottom.
In fact, the door might be a package from Micah Livingston, the town lawyer, who was helping her make sure the house paperwork was in order in case she decided to sell.
But when she opened the door, she was surprised to see Topher Smith-Cole and a gigantic bouquet of flowers that hid most of his body.
Topher peeked over the top of the bouquet, his perfect blond hair brilliant in the May sunshine.
“What’s this for?” she asked. But her heart picked up a beat.
“Flowers! For the lovely lady who still holds the heart of the local police officer.”
Really? Had he said that? Louisa definitely could not picture Jack confiding in the florists.
“Should I bring these inside?” Topher asked.
Louisa looked back at the papers strewn all over her floor. “No, I’ll take it. I’m doing a paper purge, and it looks like the file cabinet exploded in my living room.”
He handed her the vase. “Go set this down, then I have a note and some packets of floral mix for changing out the water.”
Louisa set the flowers on the side table closest to the door and returned to accept the packets and the long, slender envelope from Topher.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Make sure you read it right away,” Topher said. “That Officer Jack, he’s such a joker. I think you may have rubbed off on him a little bit during your time together.”
“Okay.” Louisa had no idea what to say to that. “Thanks.”
When Topher was safely headed back toward his delivery van, Louisa sat down with the envelope. This didn’t look like the normal cards that were slipped inside little prongs to go with the bouquet. She’d gotten plenty of those when her mom had died, most of them coming from Applebottom Blossoms.
She slid open the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of typing paper. It read:
* * *
Memorandum
Date: May 2, 2019
To: Louisa James
From: Officer Jack Stone
Subject: Floral Gratitude
* * *
Louisa paused for a moment. First of all, this was a very strange letter to send with flowers. It was too formal. And floral gratitude? That did not sound like Jack.
But she read on.
* * *
Please accept these flowers as my strictly professional way of thanking you for the time you spent caring for baby Ella. Note that this token of gratitude is nothing more than a professional courtesy between an employer and his former employee.
* * *
Louisa looked up again. This was extremely strange. Why was he going out of his way to say this was all professional? Is this what Topher had meant by Jack being a prankster now? She kept going.
* * *
If, however, your feelings for me were not strictly professional, and you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours, please meet me at Tea for Two this Thursday at 11 a.m. so that we might discuss how to proceed.
If I have assumed incorrectly, I sincerely apologize, and good luck with your future career.
* * *
Sincerely,
Jack Stone
* * *
Now, Louisa wouldn’t have bought a single word of this, except scrawled in the corner was Jack’s signature, exactly as she’d seen him write it a million times. It was his handwriting, no doubt.
What did all this mean? And more importantly, should she go?
She sat down the paper. The sweet scent of the flowers had begun to permeate the room. They were a bright spot of color in an otherwise shabby, drab house, one that had not been updated in twenty-five years.
She shouldn’t keep living like this. She might be forty, but she wasn’t old. She certainly didn’t feel it. Well, other than when she sat on the floor too long and had to stand up. But still. Should she take a chance on Jack? He wanted to meet her right in the middle of Town Square, where everyone could see them.
Louisa was the queen of the gossip pizza. She knew exactly what everyone was saying. And what they would continue to say.
But then, what would they say if poor Jack went to Tea for Two and sat there all alone? Topher obviously knew the contents of the envelope. Maybe Jack had asked his opinion. Maybe several people’s opinions. That could be why the whole thing was so weird, a patchwork of half the town’s opinions.
Wouldn’t Louisa seem cruel and ungrateful if she didn’t at least show up?
Good Lord. This was too much.
But even as she told herself she hadn’t decided anything, that she might go or she might not, she got off the sofa and picked up her purse. Then she got in her car and drove straight to Branson.
To buy a new dress.
These were the calls that made Jack realize his sister was right—he was a small-town cop.
Betty Johnson had called Brenda at the dispatch, swearing someone had broken the lock on the back door of her tea shop. There might be someone waiting inside to attack her.
Jack glanced at his watch. Ten forty-five in the morning. Hadn’t the tea shop already been open for nearly an hour?
Still, this was his responsibility. He parked his patrol car in a slot on Town Square and headed toward Tea for Two.
The front door was locked. So that part checked out. Betty must have opened late.
He walked around the building. Betty stood there with Delilah, their heads together. Neither of them looked particularly in distress. Betty’s white poodle poked her head out of an oversized bag.
“Oh, there you are, Officer Jack!” Betty said. “Our hero!”
“Is the door unlocked?” he asked.
“It was when I got here.” Betty showed him the lock, which had been smacked a few times on the side, scratching the shiny silver knob and taking out a bit of paint.
He opened the door. The back room of the tea shop smelled sharply of sugar and spices. He flipped on the light.
Nothing seemed disturbed.
“I’ll take a look around,” he said.
“I knew you would!” Betty crowed. “You’re so brave and strong!”
This was not normal talk for Betty. She was definitely up to something.
Regardless, he cut through the back room and into the front, flipping on more overheads. The room was still and quiet, and as he raised the front shades on the windows, flurries of dust floated in the sunlight.
He walked behind the counter and checked the cash register. It seemed fine, closed and locked.
He walked into the back room again, this time checking the closet, the tiny bathroom, and the walk-in refrigerator.
Nobody.
“I think it’s all clear,” he called out to the women. “Nobody’s inside.”
Betty stepped into the room. “You checked all the closets?”
“Every room.”
“Well, how strange,” she said.
“Maybe they got spooked.”
Betty set her poodle in a dog bed under the counter. “I guess we were lucky then. Won’t you stay for a cup of tea?”
“I should get back to the patrol.”
Betty whirled around. “I must insist.”
“Really, I—”
“No, I do insist.” Her voice took on a different quality, like a teacher disciplining her pupil.
This wasn’t the first time Betty had strong-armed him into tea. Gertrude and Maude were also known to force him into staying for pie. He particularly felt obligated when they made his favorite.
“All right,” he said. He didn’t have a
nything pressing. He’d be off duty in an hour anyway. All he had was some paperwork, and he could do that off shift. His mother had proven as capable with Ella as Louisa had been. In fact, the two of them made it look so easy, he felt ridiculous at not being able to handle those first few days.
Betty pulled a chair out from a table near the back and moved behind the counter. “Your usual tea or do you need some coffee?”
“Tea is fine.”
“How about a bit of cake? I have some nice German chocolate left from yesterday.”
“That sounds good.”
Betty bustled back and forth, turning on machines and placing tea in a ball for his cup.
He checked his watch. Five minutes to eleven. He’d drink this tea and be out of there on the hour. Then finish his shift and get home to Ella and his mother.
And then what? With the round-the-clock care of his mother, he had less to do than before. She cooked, washed things, and had even ordered a little bed to put in the nursery, something he’d never gotten around to doing for Louisa.
It always came back to her. Well, she’d surprised him for the last time, that was for sure. Calling his parents had taken her right out of his life. No doubt she thought they’d have some big emotional moment and a group hug, determined to do what was best for Ella.
She hadn’t understood his father at all. He was beyond redemption.
He was so caught up in his anger at Louisa, reliving the afternoon when his parents had arrived, as well as many of the pranks she’d pulled in high school, when he saw her standing in front of him, he was confused for a moment. Had he conjured her somehow?
“Here’s your tea,” Betty said. “Louisa, I made you a cup, too. I saw you coming up the street.” She placed two mugs on the table and hurried away.
Jack watched Louisa with a sense of astonishment as she sat opposite him at the table. He wanted to ask why she was there, but his throat seemed to have stopped working.