Her mother’s smile. Beneath his eyes. So pretty, so sweet, too young to be touched by the realities of death at eight years old, but he’d had little choice in that matter. And she was a survivor. An optimist. The ensuing two years had made her more so.
Becky, his younger daughter, tended to take the world on her shoulders, more like him. And four-year-old Joshua just wanted to be loved. And fed. Often, if possible. Total boy.
“Well, you can see how crazy busy we are here today,” Lisa explained.
Alex nodded. “Great for the bottom line, and that’s important in business.”
“It is,” she agreed, but then placed a hand on Emma’s notebook. “I’ll give you ideas today, but if you can come back on a quiet weeknight, we can plan with fewer interruptions. I’m here every night this week. And I should swing by your place to get an idea of how you envision this going.”
“Could we, Dad?”
“Well, I—”
“If time is crazy and today’s better, we can get started now,” Lisa assured him, and something about her willingness to help him, help them, made him more receptive to the idea of coming back. And maybe the pink barrage would be backstaged by some kind of yellow festival. Or purple. Even plain old green would be better than this immersion in bubble-gum-shaded reminders. “Monday afternoon?” He had Monday off so he could grab the girls from school and come straight to the nursery. “Around four?”
“That’s perfect. And if it’s all right with you, I’ll come by your place tomorrow after church. For right now—” A voice over a loudspeaker summoned her to the front desk. Her expression said it had been a common occurrence that day. “And that’s exactly why Monday would be better, because a project like this needs prep time. 4-H leaders look at the planning steps carefully. This is a big project for a ten-year-old.” She winked and smiled down at Emma. “Even a really smart, cute one.”
Emma grabbed Alex’s hand. “Dad will help us.” Her voice and gaze put complete trust in him. No way could he disappoint her on this.
“Considering the size of the Ramsey place, we’ll need you to be fully on board,” Lisa continued. “While this is Emma’s venture, she’ll need some muscle to get the ground cleaned up. And then planted. And I’d love to be her 4-H adviser, but we have to have another adult on-site when we work on kids’ projects in a private setting.”
From a policeman’s point of view, Alex understood the rule, but one look at Lisa’s bright eyes and quick smile assured him his kids were safe around her. But something about the way that smile tugged his heart said his safety might be jeopardized. The awareness surprised him, but felt good. Real good.
Somehow feeling good felt wrong. Mixed emotions vied for internal control. He hadn’t been attracted to another woman in a long time, but right here? Right now?
He was.
“That would be awesome.” Emma’s grateful gaze reflected his sentiment.
Lisa didn’t talk down to Emma. Alex liked that. Emma’s intelligence levels spiked the charts and he and Jenny had learned not to underestimate their firstborn. Odd but nice that this woman recognized Emma’s gift from the beginning, but Alex found that some of his best detectives on the force came by the needed skills naturally. And that gave them a leg up. “Monday would be fine. And thank you, Lisa.”
He stuck out his hand.
She took it. Smiled. Then did the same with Emma. “A pleasure doing business with you, Emma.”
Emma’s smile took Alex back to a time when smiles were a foregone conclusion and not nearly as appreciated as they should have been. “Thank you, Miss Lisa.”
“Just Lisa’s fine.”
Emma’s smile widened, the idea of calling an adult by her first name a thrill. Ah, to be young again.
When I was a child I spoke as a child...
His children had been pushed to grow up too early.
They turned to go, but Alex paused when Lisa called them back. “A quick reminder. Most plants grow quickly with TLC. Kind of like kids. So let’s not overplan, okay? We’ll measure carefully and see where that leads us.”
Emma grinned and waved the notebook. “Dad and I will do that today.”
“Excellent.”
Lisa turned her gaze to his and waved, just a little wave, but her eyes...
Warm, brown, vibrant and full of life...
Said she was looking forward to working with them.
So was he.
* * *
“Who’s the total stud-muffin?” Caroline Fitzgerald asked once Lisa cleared the main computer to recognize the tags on pink merchandise from matching vendors. On any of the vendors’ products sold before the end of June, her dollar-per-item pledge toward breast cancer research would be matched with one of their own. Those donations could unlock an easier way to battle the disease. Something that didn’t include radical surgery, poisonous drugs and radiation burns, treatments she’d endured firsthand.
This one’s up to You, God. Put it on the heads, hands and hearts of those researchers to find a key. Amen.
“Hmm?”
“The guy.” Her sister-in-law pointed across the sprawling sales area of their family business. “Tall, broad-shouldered, military hair and a soldier profile. With the cute kid.”
“They’re new in town.” Lisa followed Caroline’s hand motion with a quick gaze. “Alex and Emma Steele. Clearly you couldn’t see his gray eyes from here, or you’d have mentioned them because they’re heart-stoppers. Kind of calm and storm, mixed together. When he smiles, they brighten. Like when the sun peeks out on a cloudy day.”
Caroline grinned at Lisa’s elongated observation. “Really?” She drawled the word as if reading a lot into one simple statement about eye color, then paused, surprised. “Wait. That’s Lieutenant Alexander Steele?”
Lisa’s answering frown said she had no idea what Caroline was talking about.
“The State Troopers lost a bunch of people from their investigations department. They transferred in several new guys from other sectors. If you listened to Adam more...”
Caroline’s husband, Adam, was Lisa’s younger brother, a great guy and a New York State Trooper, but between work, buying a new house and helping her father on the farm, Adam had been unavailable for much of the past three months. Work was the last thing he talked about when they were together. Lisa laughed. “And if there were more hours in a day...”
“I can’t argue that,” Caroline agreed. “Anyway, Alex Steele is the new lieutenant in charge of investigations. He’s a widower,” she added, but anything else she might have wanted to say was lost in saving her small child from possible annihilation. “Rosie-O Fitzgerald, do not even think of heading toward that parking lot.”
“I’ve got her.” Lisa snatched up the mop-headed tot and held tight. “I’m going back out on the lot to field questions, so I’ll keep her with me.”
“Thank you. I thought she’d be sleeping by now.”
“She loves the limelight. Just like her daddy.”
“Even though she looks like her Aunt Lisa.”
Lisa couldn’t deny it. Same dark eyes and dark curls. And she wasn’t the only one who wondered if a similar fate awaited Rosie, if the genetic cocktail that had erupted as breast cancer in Lisa at age twenty-nine might linger already in Rosie’s tiny, perfect body.
Cancer sucked.
Lisa tucked her niece onto her hip and headed back outside.
Crowds of people teemed around the displays. Her father was caught up in a composting demonstration beside the back shed, his go-green attitude prevalent throughout the garden lot.
Lisa headed toward the fountain exhibits. Landscape gardening was her forte, a blessing in more ways than one. Between losing her breasts, her lymph nodes, her hair and a husband who decided damaged goods weren’t his cup of tea, she’d pour
ed herself into fun landscape design.
Flowers gave her joy.
Gardens gave her repose.
Fountains offered hope of life-giving water, the image of Christ in the river, being baptized by a mere man, his cousin. Some of her favorite choir songs embraced water. Sacrifice. Rising to the challenges life set before you. She used to excel at the “faith-in-all-things” mentality. Lately?
Not so much.
Right now a neighborly challenge aimed her way. Chin down, eyes sharp, Eddie Jo Shupert wore determination like a mantle of clothing. The aged woman seemed certain that crises could be averted and illness made well by drinking her power shakes, three times a day.
Lisa reasoned that if the chalky-tasting shakes were God’s answer to everything that ailed mankind, someone besides her neighbor might have figured it out by now. But since they were on a straight path for one another, Lisa had little choice but to paste a smile on her face and hope for a reprieve.
“Lisa! I’ve been hoping to talk to you! Have I got a great new line to show you, the kind of thing...” Eddie Jo lowered her voice as if sharing a compelling secret, for no ears but Lisa’s. “That prevents things from coming back. Ever.”
If only such a product existed. It didn’t, but not for lack of scientific trying, and Lisa had no time to elevate this overture into a full-fledged conversation. Not on such a huge sales weekend with a wriggly child in her arms.
“Eddie Jo, you know I can’t risk taking anything that might compromise the good effects of the medicines I’m taking. And I wish I could talk more now...” God would forgive her half truth, hopefully “...but we’re swamped as you can see and I—”
“Lisa?”
A small voice called from across a clever display of pink-and-fuchsia perennials. She turned in time to see Alex Steele place a cautionary hand on Emma’s shoulder, but Lisa didn’t want him to shush the girl. Right now, whatever question Emma had was preferable to Eddie Jo’s spiel. “Gotta go.” Lisa gave Eddie Jo a quick smile and a wave. “Customers waiting.”
She didn’t turn to see if Eddie Jo looked exasperated. Eddie Jo was known to sputter, so it wouldn’t be a news flash in any case. And Lisa held herself back from hugging Emma because that reaction would be over-the-top, but she realized Alex possessed perception beyond the norm when he quietly observed, “You owe me.” His gaze flicked toward Eddie Jo before coming back to rest on Lisa. “I met Ms. Shupert in church last Sunday and was treated to an informative discussion on how using her products would not only improve my children’s grades and hair texture, but establish good colon health for me.”
“Good colon health being of great importance at church.” Lisa met his naughty and knowing smile with one of her own.
“Right up there with teeth whitening and forgiveness,” he agreed, his voice easy. The way he handled their banter, with quiet humor and intelligence, made Lisa realize Alex Steele was a breed apart.
She liked the tenor of his voice. The solid but gentle feel, very Roosevelt, the whole iron-fist-in-a-velvet-glove thing. He sounded strong but looked approachable, and that made for a wonderful combination. “You guys needed me?”
“It’s about these.” Emma pointed to the perennial area. “If this kind of flower comes back every year, why don’t people just grow them? Why waste money on those?” She pointed to the greenhouses and tables loaded with bright-toned annuals.
“That’s a great question,” Lisa told her. She readjusted Rosie, plucked a coral-to-pink Echinacea blossom and handed it to Emma. “This is a coneflower bloom. And it’s gorgeous, it self-multiplies, and comes back every year, but it doesn’t start to flower until mid-July.”
“Then what do I do in June?” asked the girl reasonably.
“That’s where the annuals come in,” Lisa explained. She indicated the perennials with a quick thrust of her chin. “I’ve forced these indoors so people can get a visual of what their gardens will look like later in the summer, but you have to pick carefully to have a colorful garden from April through October. So most folks use annuals to add color because our gardening season is short.”
“I didn’t know how much flowers cost,” Emma admitted. Her voice went softer. “Dad, if this project is too much for you, we can just do part of it. I don’t want you to run out of money.”
Lisa’s heart melted. What a gracious child, to be concerned over her father’s ability to pay. It almost made her want to cut him a deal, but if Caroline was correct and Alex was the new lieutenant in charge of investigations for Troop A, then he was doing well enough to make her income look paltry by comparison.
Therefore, Alex Steele would get no deals at Gardens & Greens, regardless of how compelling his gray eyes were. Or how adorable his kid was. To his credit, he shrugged off the girl’s worry. “We’re fine, Em, but I appreciate your concern for my bottom line. Is this your daughter?” he asked then, changing his attention to include Rosie. “She looks like you.”
“My niece,” Lisa replied. She nuzzled Rosie’s dimpled neck and laughed when the little girl screeched. “I’m not married.”
“Ah.”
Why did I say that, why did I say that, why did I...
She hadn’t meant her reply the way it sounded, like gifted information. As if she expected him to care whether she was married or not. That ship had sailed because she understood what few women knew: a spouse might claim to be in it for the long haul, but cancer had a way of changing things. In her case it took less than six months for Evan to dump her once she had to fight for her life at the expense of her breasts and hair.
“Well, she’s beautiful.” The look Alex shifted from Rosie to Lisa suggested he wasn’t referring just to the child.
A flush started somewhere within Lisa, a hint of pleasure mixed with a dose of embarrassment because she hadn’t been fishing for compliments. Conversely, she didn’t exactly mind being on the receiving end of a delightful flirtation. A flirtation that made her want to smile more than she had in several years.
“Well, guys, if you don’t have any more questions?” Lisa arched a brow to Emma.
Emma patted her notebook. “We’re good. Thank you, Lisa.”
“You’re most welcome. I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes.”
Lisa moved down the new brick walkway, a recent project designed to showcase the various applications of brick, stone and grass for garden paths. She felt his eyes watching her, wondering...considering...
But she refused to turn and see if her suspicions were correct, because as good as it felt to smile and trade quips with a strong-talking, gently spoken man like Alex Steele, she had no idea how to go about explaining what she’d been through. That she wasn’t exactly the average woman next door anymore. If she was, she’d still be married and maybe have a few rug rats of her own running around the garden.
But she didn’t and wouldn’t most likely, even though the fertility clinic had harvested and frozen a clutch of her eggs before chemotherapy could destroy the tender information stored within them.
She was closing in on her five-year mark, a big deal in cancer circles. Five years cancer-free meant you might have really, truly won the war, battle by battle.
Each and every day she prayed that was true, right after telling God “Thy will be done” in the Lord’s Prayer.
Where lay the truth? Was she all right with God’s will if it meant succumbing to cancer? Or was her earnest prayer for continued good health the more realistic side of her?
She didn’t know. But she cared. Oh, yes. She cared a great deal.
Chapter Two
“Hey, Dad.” Lisa hailed her father as one of the college guys maneuvered a watering hose up and down the aisles, giving the plants a much-needed drink while the sun banked west. “Amazing sales today.”
“You’re right.” Her father slung an arm
around her shoulders and gave her a half hug. “Mostly due to your efforts.”
“Oh, please.”
He squeezed again, lighter this time. “You’ve picked up a lot of slack around here this year, between losing your mom and my absent-mindedness.”
“It’s okay to grieve, Dad.”
“I know that.” He paused and let his gaze wander the pretty sight of the well-kept nursery. “This was her doing, you know.”
Lisa had heard this all before, but if Dad wanted to tell the story again, she’d let him.
“I thought we’d do well with beef cattle. And we did, to a point. But then your mother branched out from gardening to plant production. Those first greenhouses...” He smiled, remembering. “You were just a baby and Adam wasn’t born yet, but your mother and I fashioned them by wrapping metal poles around the silo with the tractor to get a perfect curvature. Then Uncle Dave welded them to the base frame. We added plastic sheeting covers and an old wood stove to maintain temperatures overnight, and a new business was born.”
“It may have been Mom’s idea, but your hand helps stir every pot on the place, Dad.”
“Because I’m no fool,” he declared, laughing. “And when you took after your mother, with that knack for growing things and promotional planning, I realized I’d be smart to be the brawn of the operation and let you two be the brains.”
“I like the sound of that.” She pointed to the back area, where piles of mulch outlined a large, curved loading area. “Which mulches do I need to replenish?”
“Black, red and natural.”
She nodded and moved inside. “I’ll email the order over so we have delivery by Monday. And we’re okay on bagged varieties?”
“For now I’d hold off on the pre-bags.”
“Gotcha. Hey, I’m going to the nine o’clock service in the morning.”
The Lawman's Second Chance Page 2