“That man,” Jenny fumed. “He thinks he can just waltz in and have me swoon into his arms like some kind of silent movie heroine. Do you think he’s been smoking some of the contraband the sheriff’s department confiscates?”
“Excuse me.” Maggie held the stack of plates up to her chest. “Are you talking about our Teague?”
Jenny lowered her eyes.
“I take it you two had a little chat,” Abby Ruth said. Damn that Teague, what had he done?
“No, Mom. A chat is nice. You say polite things to each other, make small talk, and shake hands. Shoving a bouquet of sunflowers at you, kissing you blind and mouth-pooping a profession of love is not a chat.”
Abby Ruth stumbled back and braced herself against the gazebo rail. The boy had moved even faster than she’d imagined. What the hell was he thinking? He had to know that Jenny was gun-shy.
“I’m sure he meant well.” But it was clear she shouldn’t have left Teague in charge of his first chance to see Jenny in years. Men should be required to enroll in some kind of relationship training before ever asking a woman for a date. Idiots.
Obviously, those bozos on ThePerfectFit.com needed the kind of training that would knock them upside the head with some damned sense because they were clueless about matching a woman with the right man too.
“Oh my,” Maggie said. “That was awfully sudden. I mean he just got here. You just got here.”
“Sudden?” Jenny wheeled on her. “That jackass was ten years too late.”
Abby Ruth grabbed her daughter and pulled her away from Maggie. “Sugar, this isn’t Maggie’s fault. There’s no reason for you to go on the attack.”
Jenny swiped a hand—a trembling one—across her face. “I’m so sorry, Maggie.”
“It’s fine.” Maggie busied herself with the plastic flatware. “Men can make us all crazy. And I know it’s not my place to say so, but Teague is a good one.”
Abby Ruth knew Maggie was thinking of that idiot Dan. A man who couldn’t be bothered to use his own picture on his dating profile.
But Abby Ruth was ecstatic to see Jenny so off balance. She wasn’t only not immune to Teague Castro, but she was likely so infected with the love bug that she’d succumb to it sooner or later. “Everyone’s gathering for cake. Would you cut the cake, Jenny?”
“I don’t mind—” Maggie started, but Abby Ruth threw her a glare. Cutting the cake would keep Jenny in one spot, which meant she couldn’t get away from Teague, and that was the plan. Maggie quickly recovered by switching up her response, “—pouring cups of my special tea while Jenny takes care of the cake.”
People, including Teague and Deputy Barnes, began to crowd into the gazebo. Sera skipped up the steps and said, “Anything I can help with here?”
“Actually,” Jenny shoved the cake slicer in Sera’s direction, “we need someone to serve cake.”
Dammit. Her daughter was a wily one.
Sera fluttered her hands. “I’m not sure I have time for that. I’m supposed to meet my date in fifteen minutes.”
It still chapped Abby Ruth’s hide that both Maggie and Sera had gotten dates while she’d been kicked out of the whole system and had to sneak back in.
Teague stepped closer to the table, and Deputy Barnes followed. “Sera,” Teague said, “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone. Someone local?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she told him.
Teague straightened at that. The boy had a suspicious streak a mile and a half wide. “He won’t tell you where he lives?”
“It’s not like that. This is just the first date, and the profiles don’t—”
Maggie started waving as if she was swatting at a swarm of attacking mosquitoes.
“Maggie, are you having a hot flash?” Sera grabbed a paper plate and fanned Maggie.
“So,” Abby Ruth put lots of cheer into her voice. “How ’bout them ’stros?”
The look Teague shot her was part you-can-do-better-than-that and part you-damn-well-know-the-Astros-aren’t-in-the-World-Series. “What’s all this about a profile?”
“Well, when you register with an online dating service, you have to fill out all these questions,” Sera told him. “You know, and that’s what the men look at to decide if they’re interested.”
A cup to his mouth, Deputy Barnes launched into a coughing fit. Teague whacked the poor guy on the back, but that only caused the deputy to tip his tea glass and dump liquid onto the table.
Jenny was as quick as ever, snatching the cake up in time to keep it from getting doused by the spillage or the liquid dribbling from the deputy’s nose.
“Are you okay?” Maggie asked Barnes.
“Is…” Deputy Barnes wheezed. “Is this some kind of…hookup site for…liberals?”
“Not that I know of,” Sera said, patting Barnes on the back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“He’ll live,” Teague barked. “He’s a cop, for cripe’s sake. I want to know about the dating site. It wouldn’t be ThePerfectFit.com, would it?”
“How do you know about that site?” Barnes asked. “I thought you’d already found your dream woman.”
Teague shot a longing glance at Jenny, but she was staring down at the table, clenching that cake server like the killer in a horror movie. Oh yeah, she might still be mad at Teague, but she didn’t want any other woman to get him, that was for sure. “Just doing a little research for work,” he mumbled. His cell phone rang, and he fumbled in his belt to answer it. “Castro.”
Abby Ruth could only hear a vague voice from the other end of the line, but Teague said, “Barnes is on call tonight. Why didn’t you tag him? You couldn’t reach him? He’s standing right h—” Teague turned a complete circle, but Deputy Barnes was no longer there.
With a heavy sigh, Teague said, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there. But keep trying Barnes. He’s around somewhere.”
Teague clicked off his phone and shook it toward the table, one shake directed at each of the women. “Don’t think we’re done here. Not by a long shot.”
Chapter Nineteen
The next morning, Abby Ruth wandered toward the kitchen to the scent of already-brewed coffee. Smelled almost as good as hers. She passed through the doorway and discovered why.
Hunched over an iPad, Jenny sat at the farm table in the middle of the room nursing a cup liberally laced with cream and—Abby Ruth sniffed the air—Kahlua.
“You’re up and at ’em early this morning,” she said to her daughter. “Have trouble sleeping?”
Jenny jerked upright and bobbled her tablet. It flew end over end and crashed to the floor. “Dammit, Mom, that’s brand new.”
“Not my fault you were so involved in what you were doing that you didn’t hear me walk in.” Abby Ruth stooped down to pick up the tablet, but Jenny scrambled out of her seat and practically tackled her.
“I’ll get that.” Jenny grabbed for the tablet, but Abby Ruth was an excellent keep-away player, and she dodged her daughter.
She flipped the tablet over to find the screen intact. And what was on the screen made her smile stretch as far as the Rio Grande. Oh, this was better than the time she’d accidentally come across a handful of notes Jenny had written to a girlfriend about Teague. “The Perfect Fit, huh?”
“I’m just looking at it,” Jenny huffed. “I have to watch out for your safety in your doddering old age.”
“Doddering, my ass.” Abby Ruth slid the tablet to the table and turned for the coffeemaker. “Checking out the dating site has nothing to do with your concern for me and everything to do with your jealousy over Teague.”
Jenny flopped back down in her chair and held her head between her hands as though she was trying to keep her brain pressed inside. “He makes me crazy.”
“All the best men do.”
“I should be over him. I thought I was.”
“A kiss can change your mind about those things right quick. But you don’t have to register for that thing.” She waved a hand toward the
dating site pulled up on the tablet. “All you have to do is let him know how you feel.”
“That’s just the problem. I don’t know how I feel.”
“Hard to figure that out if you aren’t willing to spend any time with the guy.”
“This site is supposed to automatically match you with your perfect fit, right?”
“Well, it matches you with several potential perfect fits.”
“Then if the system matches me with Teague, it’s a sign I should at least think about giving him the time of day.”
Abby Ruth blew on her coffee and sat down across from Jenny. Neither of them were big huggers or hand holders, but she reached across to squeeze Jenny’s hand. “Sugar, that’s about like shaking one of those Magic Eight Balls and expecting it to give you a straight answer. You giving Teague another chance is about what you feel in your heart, not about some computer—” what would Sera call it? “—algorithm.”
“A computer program is way more objective than I am right now. And that’s what I need, something with a clear head.” With her fingertips, Jenny rubbed her temples. “Which neither of us have on this subject. You’ve never made it a secret that you thought my marriage to Daniel was a huge mistake.”
“I wasn’t trying to knock your choices, Jenny.” Abby Ruth leaned back and sighed. “And I may not be much of a romantic myself, but I know true love when I see it. And, hon, that’s what you and Teague had.”
“Emphasis on the word had, Mom.”
Abby Ruth waved at the iPad. “Fine. You want unbiased proof? Then waste your hundred bucks. Tell you what, I’ll bet you another hundred that Teague is the first profile in your match list.”
While Jenny typed away on the small screen, Abby Ruth drank her coffee and watched.
Jenny muttered, “If you could be any cartoon character, who would you be?” She glanced up at Abby Ruth. “Who writes this crap?”
My thought exactly.
Within ten minutes, Jenny was entering her credit card number. She took a deep breath and clicked the register button. “How long does it take?”
“Give the thing a few seconds to think.” As soon as the words were out of Abby Ruth’s mouth, the screen blinked and displayed several men’s profile pictures. And that coffee turned to battery acid in her stomach. Because not only was Teague not Jenny’s first match, but he wasn’t anywhere in those pictures. Damn it all.
Jenny’s mouth turned down, but she squared her shoulders and held out her hand. “You owe me a C-note.”
Impossible. “I’ll have to go get it from upstairs.”
“Don’t bother,” Jenny said. “Because I’m going up right now to pack. It’s time for me to take Grayson home to Boston.”
* * *
Maggie carried a box and a stack of mail as she walked up the driveway toward Summer Haven. A tidy square glossy envelope embossed with a bumble bee wearing a crown, the Llewellyn Farm’s logo, was addressed to her. Such a fun afternoon.
At least it had been at the time. Until she’d discovered Dan was a lying skunk.
She plopped into a rocking chair on the front porch, set the box beside her, and slid her finger under the envelope’s flap sealed with beeswax.
The shiny honey-golden card held a picture of her with DanOfYourDreams in front of the bee hives. How could he have lied to her? He’d seemed so nice.
Tired of the whole mess, Maggie closed her eyes. It was actually easier to simply miss George and accept she’d be alone the rest of her life. Because that little taste of dating fun had only made her hungrier for more.
When she heard footsteps, Maggie shoved the envelope into her pocket. She didn’t want the girls to see how hurt she was by the whole thing.
Sera plodded across the porch with a coffee cup in hand. Her skin didn’t look quite as dewy as normal and the fine lines at her eyes were more pronounced. “Morning, glory.”
“Your glory is look a little rough this morning,” Maggie commented.
“I feel it. Too much wine.”
“Gets you in trouble every time.” Yeah, she probably shouldn’t say anything seeing as she’d overindulged once and looked much worse than Sera the next morning.
“Can’t help it. My kryptonite, but I’ll sweat it out soon enough.” Sera swung her arms around like windmill. “I stayed up too late on top of it all.”
“But I thought your date cancelled.”
“He did, but I was already so amped up about it that I found it hard to get to sleep. You had so much fun on your date. I guess I got kind of excited to see what might be in store for me.”
“It was fun,” Maggie admitted, even though she’d since found out Dan was undoubtedly a fraud.
“I checked my profile again this morning.” Sera sighed, making Maggie feel a tad guilty about relishing a date with a phony. “Nothing else from him.”
“It’s been less than a day. He’ll reschedule.”
“Well, none of this was about dates. It was about finding this guy for Martha so we can get the septic fixed.” Sera spotted the brown box next to Maggie’s chair, squatted down to read the label. “It’s to me.”
“Then you should open it,” Maggie said. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Sera picked at the tape and finally found a loose edge, then tugged it away from the cardboard. She peeled back the box flaps and let out a happy squeal.
“What is it?”
“Look, recyclable packing material.” She held up a little geode-looking cardboard thing.
Maggie sighed. This woman would be happy with packing peanuts. “What’s inside, Sera?”
She pulled some paper off of a rolled mat. “It’s the prettiest purple yoga mat I’ve ever seen. There’s more. Yoga Paws!” She slipped the gloves onto her hands and worked her feet into the things that looked like diving flippers except without the flipper part. Then she hopped around, springing into at least a dozen poses in as many seconds. “They’re like having a mat that moves everywhere you do.”
“Wow,” Maggie said, but more about Sera’s quick recovery than the weird paws. “What a perfect gift for you.”
“I absolutely love them.”
“Who sent them?”
Sera dug around in the box until she found a card and shoved it at Maggie. “You read it.”
Maggie read it aloud.
Dear SunnyOutlook,
Thank you for registering with ThePerfectFit.com. However, it has come to our attention that you do not fit our site’s demographic so your profile is being disabled. If you should choose to try online dating again in the future, we would recommend a site better suited to your unique needs.
Our best wishes in your search for love.
Sincerely,
ThePerfectFit.com
“I got the kiss-off too?”
Maggie shrugged, but a little kernel of pleasure warmed her heart. She was the only who’d gone on a date. And even Dan the Fraud couldn’t crush her happiness at not being cast as the undesirable friend.
But it also meant they were down a woman, and they needed to get on the stick and find this guy for Martha. The inspection was barreling down on them.
Abby Ruth wandered out to the porch and flopped into another rocker, looking like she’d lost her last batch of rabbits.
“You drink too much wine last night too?” Sera asked.
“I wish,” Abby Ruth grumbled and waved a hand toward the driveway. “Notice anything missing?”
Maggie’s gaze swung immediately to the muck pit, but unfortunately, it hadn’t disappeared overnight. “Noooo.”
“Jenny’s rental car.”
“She left.” Sera said.
“Teague spooked her something good last night.” Abby Ruth tossed back whatever was in her glass and hissed like a cat backed into a corner. She was hitting the whiskey early today. “Then she registered on The Perfect Fit. When that damn thing didn’t match her up with Teague, she decided they weren’t meant to be. Who does that kind of thing?”
“Someone who doesn’t trust herself to make her own decisions right now,” Sera answered. “Give her a little time. If it’s meant to be, they’ll work it out.”
“But speaking of The Perfect Fit,” Maggie said, “we need to step up our investigation.” Truth was, time was ticking away too darned fast. The big hole in the yard wasn’t as soupy since they’d stopped using the toilets. But the weatherman was predicting rain, and to get Martha’s septic guy out here, they needed to solve this mystery.
Abby Ruth brooded for several minutes, then finally said, “What if, instead of setting up female profiles, this time we set up one for a guy? That way, we could get access to some of the other women in the system. Message them to find out if they’re getting scammed too.”
“Isn’t that a little unethical?” Sera asked.
“Do we care?” Abby Ruth asked. “It’s not like we plan to dress up like men and take these gals out on the town. We’ll tell them what we’re doing, full disclosure. Believe me, they’ll thank us for protecting the sisterhood from this whack-job.”
Only Abby Ruth could say something like that and make her believe it. Maggie nodded. “I can see that working. Maybe we’ll find someone who has actually dated OnceUponATom.”
“True.” Sera dropped to the porch to stretch. As limber as she was, she looked about twelve. “And we can ask them to help us by searching all of their matches for paintball and whatever else we know about OnceUponATom.”
“Perfect. Let’s register our guy and see what we can find out,” Maggie said.
“We’re running out of time, girls. You—” Abby Ruth pointed at Maggie, “—need to go out with DansTheMan again.”
“It was DanOfYourDreams, and no thank you.”
“You have to see him again and figure out what the deal is with these fake pictures.”
“He’s a liar.” Maggie’s chair was rocking so hard, she’d about rocked herself into the porch rail. “I don’t like people who lie.”
“This is not about you,” Abby Ruth insisted. “It’s about us. About Summer Haven. About a pot to piss in.”
Literally, thought Maggie.
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