His phone rang. Iuppa’s number flashed in the display. Alex bit back a groan. It had been a long day already, but his job didn’t allow him latitude to ignore the call from the in-your-face detective. “Sal. What’s up?”
“Just wanted you to know that the guy who answered the ad for the Bobcat used to work at Gardens & Greens.”
A connection. At last.
“Yes.” Iuppa sounded smug, as if he hadn’t been instructed to research the guy more thoroughly. “He worked there for over five years, then started his own landscaping business on the side.”
“Competing with them?”
“Yes. He fished from their customer base, trying to lure their customers away. Mrs. Fitzgerald threatened him with a lawsuit for infringement. He backed off, but his business failed two years later.”
“So we’ve got a revenge motive and lack of money.”
“And he’d know that Mrs. Fitzgerald died,” Iuppa continued. “She was involved in all kinds of things and the local paper did a nice write-up on her. He’d know they were short-handed.”
“Perfect timing.” Alex blew out a breath. “Good job. You want to make the arrest?”
“Will do.”
Iuppa sounded calmer. Happier. Alex hoped that was the case. And he’d make sure that their superiors knew who broke this case. True, it wasn’t exactly capital murder. In small-town rural areas, this was a more likely crime. But Alex had put in years facing the murder and racketeering gig in Rochester. He was okay with the lighter staff and diminished crime in the Southern Tier.
* * *
“They’ve made an arrest in our stolen equipment case,” Ozzie told Lisa the next day.
“And the equipment?” She knew better than to hope it was local and intact. No one took pricey equipment like that to use. Farmers had too much respect for one another. No, whoever stole their Bobcat and mower had cold, hard cash in mind.
“Seized for evidence.” Ozzie’s voice pitched up in relief. “Alex is hoping to get it released to us sooner rather than later.”
“It’s not sold? Or broken down for parts?”
“That’s how they found it, actually,” her father explained. “Sal Iuppa put an ad online for a gently used Bobcat. This guy contacted him through a phony email and they traced it.”
“They tempted him out of hiding,” Lisa mused. “I’m amazed. I figured it was long gone and we’d have to make a claim in the next couple of weeks. Who took it, Dad?”
“Greg Miller.”
The familiar name had Lisa making a face of disbelief. “You’re kidding. He worked here for years.”
Her father shrugged both shoulders. “He was always mad that your mother let him go. That she was successful and he wasn’t.”
“You and Mom made this place successful with your work ethic, your fair prices and your selection of product.” Lisa moved to his side and slung an arm around her father. “Teamwork built this business, Dad.”
“It did.” His gaze took in the sales tables, loaded with new planting ideas, fresh items for summer gardens and fall veggies. “But I’d be dishonest to pretend I don’t worry about keeping things going without your mother. Making Adam work extra isn’t the answer. He has a career. A family. Another baby on the way. And you and I can’t handle this alone.”
“We’re not alone, we have lots of help and we’ll hire another manager if necessary.” Lisa met his look of concern frankly. “We’ve got Rosie and that new baby to think of. They might not want a family business in twenty-some years, but if we let it fall apart, they won’t have the chance to decide that. And I,” she looped her arms around him in a hug, “have loved this business since I was old enough to help out, so we’ll do what we have to do. Just like Mom would expect, right?”
“Right.”
She hadn’t fully convinced him, but he sounded more assured. And his jaw looked stronger. Firmer.
May had been crazy busy. June sales promised an even higher rate of return. From now until Christmas, their lives revolved around the region’s growing and harvesting schedule. And once the holidays were done, they planned how to make the next year just as strong.
Recovering the equipment would be a huge relief, one less thing to worry about, but Lisa understood her father’s anxiety. They were in month two of a banner year, and long months of little rest stretched before her. No way could she be sick, or laid up by disease. Anything more than a cold couldn’t be allowed to happen. Not this year.
* * *
“Are you all set back here?” Caro poked her head into the preliminary planting barn the first Monday in June. “I’ve got twelve kids lined up, ready and waiting.”
Lisa waved a hand from the far end of the potting room. “Bring ’em on.”
Caro slid open the barn door. A chorus of young voices exclaimed as the kids rushed in.
“Dirt!”
“Rocks!”
“Lisa!”
Emma charged forward. She looked wonderful, Lisa decided. Happy. Content. She grabbed Lisa around the waist, hugged her, and then stepped back, hands dancing in the air. “Lisa, the pink garden is so pretty! And Dad used black mulch on the dirt so the pink really stands out. I think it’s the prettiest garden of all!”
“Good.” Lisa smiled a greeting to the lone boy in a sea of eight-to-twelve-year-old girls, then spotted Becky heading her way. “Becky. How’s it going?”
“I don’t have to work with my sister, do I?”
Lisa aimed a slight frown down. “Hi, Lisa,” she deadpanned. “How are you? Wow, this looks like fun. And would it be okay if I work on my own today?”
Becky raised one shoulder. “Yeah. That. What you said. So will it be okay if I work alone?”
“You’ve all got your own stations,” Lisa announced loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Look for your names and I need you to tie back your hair if necessary and put on the gloves and aprons you’ll find at your place.”
“I’m over here.” Emma moved to a garden bench in the back row next to Sophie Calhoun.
“And I’m up here!” Becky sent her sister a sassy look from the front row.
“With the other little kids,” Emma drawled. She put on her gloves with a “why me?” look aimed at Sophie. “Please tell me Rachel isn’t like that.”
“Worse.” Sophie tugged on her gloves with a similar dour expression. “Eight-year-olds think they know everything.”
“Unlike ten-year-olds,” Lisa whispered, ducking her head between Sophie and Emma. “Who really do know everything but are calm, cool and collected enough that they avoid teasing younger kids in public forums.”
Emma and Sophie grinned. “Okay, we’ll stop. Promise.”
“Thank you.” Lisa moved to the front, started the project and was amazed when the first parents arrived at six o’clock. “Oops. Time flew. Two minute cleanup,” she called out.
The group scrambled to put their current project either on a marked shelf or on their table to take home. For two minutes, pandemonium reigned, but when the timer buzzed completion, the gardening shed was back in order. Mostly.
“How did you do that?”
Alex’s voice, his breath, his scent, near her left cheek. She could turn right then and be close. So close. Instead she took two steps forward before turning. “We practiced cleanup drills. I lose track of time and parents need to be able to drive in, grab their kids and go. After today we’ll have drive-through pickup service. That way no one has to get out of the car.”
“So if I want a chance to talk to you, I’d better do it today?” Alex asked.
Lisa waved a hand at the wall clock as she hugged kids goodbye. “Talk fast. I’ve got to gather supplies for a session I’m doing tomorrow at the adult-care facility just outside of Wellsville.”
“You help there, too?
”
“Not as often as I’d like.” She rolled up her plans and stacked them alongside the big easel at the front of the room.
Alex noted the easel with an arched brow as the girls headed their way. “Old school. No PowerPoint?”
“Not with dirt and kids.” Lisa laughed as Becky pretended to be insulted. “I have the layouts done for each project and I blow them up and print them for the easel. The kids have a scaled-down version at their station.”
“You enjoy this.”
Lisa turned as she leveraged the sliding door closed behind them. “I love this,” she corrected him. “Getting dirty, working with kids, teaching about plant life, eco-systems, worms and slugs...”
“I didn’t even croak when I picked up a slug, Dad,” Becky cut in. Her face showed delight as she gazed up at her father. “And the worms felt like wet spaghetti. I didn’t groan like Emma and Sophie did.”
Emma refused to engage the back-and-forth. Instead, she turned toward her father. “Dad, this was great. We learned about decomposers, how worms and bugs eat flesh and vegetable matter to make top soil.”
“Yum.”
“Dad, it was really awesome.” Becky reached up and grabbed his hand. “And we told Lisa how pretty the pink garden is. That you got black stuff so the flowers would be more noticeable from the road.”
Lisa aimed a gaze of approval at Alex. “Well done.”
He wanted her approval.
He realized that tenfold, standing there. This woman had battled a killer disease. She could have easily put it all behind her. Most people would have.
Instead, she took it upon herself to continue the fight. Wage war on cancer. She’d lost part of her body, suffered indignities of treatment and was dumped by a husband who didn’t appreciate her.
And she’d just given him a look that said she was proud of him, and her expression of approval pleased him.
“Dad, what’s for supper?”
“Grandma made chicken and biscuits.”
“I hate them.” Becky sighed, dramatic. “Can I have PB and J instead?”
“I love chicken and biscuits.” Emma raised her voice in appreciation. “I’ll eat yours and mine, because that will make Grandma feel good for helping.”
“Whatever, Emma.” Becky did her characteristic eye-roll as she climbed into the backseat of the car. “You’re such a Goody Two-Shoes.”
“And on that note...” Lisa stepped back, waved goodbye to the girls and started for the front parking lot. “Have a good night.”
He hated watching her stride off. Hated having to leave her at all. Hated...
“Dad, what are we waiting for?”
What was he waiting for? Everything to be perfect? Ideal? Absolute? That didn’t happen in real life. Real life was, well...real.
He pulled the car up front, shushed the girls and followed Lisa into her office.
She turned, surprised.
So he surprised her a little more by wrapping his arms around her. Kissing her. Losing himself in the kiss he’d been longing to repeat for weeks.
Too long. It had been way too long since he held her in his arms, tucked against his heart. His soul. When she tried to pull back he whispered her name against her cheek, her ear, one hand cradling her head, while the other wrapped around her waist.
The whispered plea worked. She relaxed in his arms and returned the kiss fully. And when he finally loosened his hold and stepped back, he locked gazes with her. “Why did we wait so long to do that again? Because I’ve been dying for a repeat.”
“Because we shouldn’t have done it the first time?” She posed that as a question, holding his gaze but not holding back. “Because you’ve got a family to care for and I’ve got health issues you can’t handle?”
He started to object and she lifted a hand up to quiet him. “Correction. Health issues you shouldn’t have to handle again and that your children shouldn’t concern themselves with. Bad enough they dealt with illness and loss once. As grown-ups, we can’t put them in the position of facing that possibility again.”
“What if common sense is wrong?” Alex said with candor. “What if we’re meant to be together but we’re both Type A competitive perfectionists who think they can control the world so we second-guess our destiny?”
“Put that way...” She smiled and stepped back more fully. “Alex, if it was only us it would be different. You know that. But it’s not. And I don’t kiss people casually.”
“There was nothing casual about that kiss. Not on my end, anyway.”
“You know what I mean.” She reached a hand up to his face, his jaw. “You tempt me, Alex. You tempt me to imagine what life could be like but then I think of those kids and all the adjustments they’ve had.” She lifted her shoulders. “And that puts up a big red stop sign.”
“Luckily, signs are removable.” He caressed her cheek one last time, letting his hand linger along her jaw. A tiny muscle in her throat twitched with his touch and he had to resist the urge to kiss her again. Kissing Lisa could become a habit he never wanted to break, but she was right to bring up the kids. He’d never done anything at turtle pace, but on this she was correct. Full speed ahead could mess up the tentative inroads he’d made with the kids’ healing.
Taking things slow would be the better way. Right now he hated the truth in that, but hadn’t he been praying for guidance?
Yes.
Then he needed to heed her plea for time. And patience. And he had two weeks of picking the kids up every day. Time to wear her down?
Yes.
He moved to the door, smiling. “See you tomorrow. And we should be able to have the equipment released from the evidence barn once the techs have completed their reports.”
“That would take a big strain off around here. Thank you, Alex.”
“You’re welcome.”
He left, glad he’d followed his instincts. Cornered her in her office. Stolen a sweet kiss that made their commonsense edicts seem most un-sensible. When he got back to the car, the girls were quarreling. Again.
Surprise, surprise.
He took out two boxes of Reese’s Pieces and tossed them into the backseat. “Supper’s late because your brother has soccer so stop fighting, eat these, and tell me about worms and slugs and all the cool stuff you learned. I bet you can’t wait to go back tomorrow.”
“I can’t.” Emma’s voice held a surety he appreciated. “I love learning about this stuff. Becky’s the one complaining.”
“About?” He tried to meet Becky’s eye in the rearview mirror, but she’d slouched into her seat, her face mutinous. “Uh-oh. What happened while I was inside?”
“Ask her.” Emma jerked her head in her sister’s direction. “I sat in here reading. She got out and went to look for you.”
“You did?” Alex paused the car at the parking lot edge. “Becky, didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze in the mirror and her little face looked pinched and miserable. “And I saw you, Dad. I saw you kissing Lisa.”
“Say what?” Emma turned his way. “Dad, were you really? Way to go!”
“I—”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t.” Becky sat straighter in her seat, ready to challenge him. “It was disgusting.”
“It was kind of nice, actually,” he corrected her, keeping his voice matter-of-fact. “And I do believe you’re the one who keeps telling me I should get a life. Right?”
“I didn’t tell you to kiss someone.” She pretended a self-strangulation, her little hands gripping her throat, totally over-the-top Becky. “Eeuuww. I thought you only wanted to kiss Mommy.”
“I did.” Oh, man. How did a grown-up explain this to a child? That one love doesn’t stop when another love begins? Because he realized in that o
ffice, while kissing Lisa, that he loved her. Wanted her. Needed her. And now he’d gone and messed up his kids. Again. “It’s complicated, Becky.”
“It’s not,” she insisted. “When I grow up I want to fall in love with someone who will love me forever. Just me. And if I die I want them to still love me.”
Emma sighed. “Here we go. It’s always all about you, Becky. How about for once it’s about Dad?”
Becky harrumphed, clasped her arms around her chest and burrowed into her seat, chin thrust out. When he pulled in the driveway, she burst out of the car, stormed up the walk, pushed through the door and ran up the steps. The slam of her bedroom door ricocheted throughout the house.
“You’re home.” Nancy met him at the door. She slanted a look upstairs, angled him a look of empathy and waved to the kitchen. “Let me take Josh to practice. You guys eat. I gave him a sandwich after school, and it will be snack time by the time he’s done with soccer. Is that all right with you, Alex?”
Alex accepted her gracious offer, relieved. “It’s perfect. I’ll give that one—” he swept the upstairs hall a quick look “—time to settle down. And I know Emma and I are starved.”
“Good.”
Josh raced down the stairs, a size 4 soccer ball clutched in his hands. Alex paused him long enough to realign his socks over the shin guards and hug him. “Have fun, bud.”
“I will!” He raced to the back porch, a bundle of preschool energy.
“Actually, I’m not all that hungry, Dad.”
Alex turned, surprised. He met Emma’s gaze and read the confusion there. She wanted him to move on. Be happy. The two-year age difference between her and Becky allowed a different perspective. But even so, change would be hard.
Turtle. Turtle. Turtle.
He nodded and kept his expression easy. “You relax. It’s been a long day for everyone. The nice thing about chicken and biscuits is that they’re just as good reheated. If you decide you’re hungry in a little bit, we’ll eat then.”
“Okay.” She grabbed him around the waist, and held tight in a hug that said so much. “I love you, Dad.”
He knew that. Felt it. But it was nice to hear the words. “I love you, too, honey.”
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