Alex moved her way, amazed at her audacity. Hadn’t she understood his directives? How could he make things clearer? He needed a chance to raise his children his way. Without undue criticism from her or anyone else.
“Well, this is a beautiful boy,” the second woman noted, grinning at Josh in Nancy’s arms. She switched her gaze back to Nancy and indicated the flowers in her cart. “And you were explaining about the hostas.”
“Yes.” Nancy nodded, emphatic. “Shade or part shade for the best look. Full sun and a hot summer are tough on hostas.”
“They’re tough on me, too.” The other woman laughed. “I’m going to go check out what kinds Lisa has back there.”
“A bunch,” Nancy promised. “Check out the Patriot series. I bet you’ll love them.”
“Thank you.”
Nancy turned Alex’s way, her face bright. Animated. Happy. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he saw Nancy relaxed and happy, and because he was expecting a very different expression, he paused, confused.
“Alex! You’re here to pick up the girls. You know where they are, right?”
Of course he did, but he was still trying to wrap his brain around finding her here, grinning. And wearing a Gardens & Greens smock. “I—”
“And who is this handsome fella?” Alex shifted the direction of his gaze as Ozzie crossed the busy front sales area. “Howdy, partner. I’m Ozzie.”
“I’m Josh.” Josh stuck out a hand. “And this is my dad. He’s Alex.”
“We’ve met.” Ozzie aimed a broad smile in Alex’s direction. “Your daddy’s been a big help to us.”
“You needed a policeman?” Josh’s brows arched high. “Were there bad guys here?”
Ozzie shrugged off the little guy’s concern with a half truth. “We lost something. Your daddy and his friends helped find it. Alex.” He turned and put out a hand. “Good to see you, but I can’t have the help being bothered by family during working hours.” He sent a teasing look to Nancy and she blushed.
Blushed.
Before Alex could wrap his head around that, Ozzie went on, “Nance, would you like to grab a bite with me later? We’ll never get out of here before closing and I did promise you food in exchange for labor.”
She bobbed her head, clearly delighted by the prospect. “That’s fine, Ozzie. That will give me time to deadhead the greenhouses and help with the watering.”
“You’re working here.”
Nancy turned. So did Ozzie.
Alex swept the two of them a look of disbelief. “You really are? Working here?”
Nancy hugged Josh, then set him down. “Ozzie and I got to talking yesterday, and he offered me a job. The minute I started today, I wondered why I hadn’t done this sooner.” She aimed a smile straight up at Ozzie. “I love working with plants. Getting dirty.”
“God’s perfect timing.” Ozzie returned her grin before shifting his gaze back to Alex. “You know it’s drive-through pickup today, don’t you? Lisa tries to make it easy for parents with crazy schedules.”
“My guess is that Alex is in no hurry,” Nancy offered, but the way she said the words, like it was all right that Alex wasn’t rushing in and out, made him turn her way again.
She met his gaze. A soft smile said she understood what he hadn’t had a chance to say. That it was all right to move on, to let his heart take a chance again. That she wouldn’t stand in his way.
He’d been ready to challenge her, go toe-to-toe with his former mother-in-law, certain she was interfering again.
She wasn’t and that shamed him.
The row of cars started moving as children were released from the potting shed barn. He reached over, gave his mother-in-law a hug that surprised both of them and moved toward the back of the display area. “Have fun.”
She smiled at him, then at Ozzie, not caring that she had dirt on her hands and a wet splotch on her smock and that in itself was worth noting. “We will.”
Alex was still trying to sort out this unexpected turn of events when he got to the back barn. The line of cars had dwindled to two, and as those kids were picked up, Caroline spotted him crossing the stone path connecting the barns to the mulch pickup area. “Here’s Dad, girls.”
He glanced around as the girls moved his way.
No Lisa.
Should he ask?
No. That would only get Becky riled up, but he leaned forward and scanned the inside of the barn, hoping.
Still no Lisa.
Caroline read the question in his eyes and shrugged. “I’ve got pickup duty this week.”
“The whole week?” He said no more, but saw the confirmation in her eyes.
“Yes.”
Lisa was avoiding him. Was he wrong to want to see her? Care for her? Fall in love with her?
Caroline’s face showed sympathy for his dilemma, but he read something else there, too. She’d protect her sister-in-law at all costs, and Alex understood that. But a clever man didn’t back off from a challenge, and if Lisa Fitzgerald needed a reason to drop those barriers, he was man enough to give her one. Starting tonight, once he got the kids settled, he had every intention of strategizing “Team Lisa.” He may have never been a soldier, but a man should never miss a chance to plan a winning campaign. “Let’s go, guys.”
“Hey, did you guys know Grandma’s here?” Josh wondered as they moved toward the front lot.
“To get us?” Becky frowned up at Alex. “But Dad’s getting us.”
“She’s working here,” Alex told them as they neared the car. “Grandma loves gardening. Getting dirty. You must get that from her,” he told Emma.
The thought brightened her soft gray eyes. “I bet I do, Dad. When did Grandma start working here?”
“Today.”
“Oh, that’s so nice.” Emma’s look of approval swept the garden store. “She likes to keep busy.”
Of course she did. Another thing Alex had messed up on, not thinking of Nancy’s needs. How long and tedious had her days been, with no husband, no daughter, estranged from her grandchildren, and her home sold?
He’d been a jerk, but no more. Never again. From this point forward he’d weigh everything from all angles. He’d still mess up, but maybe not as often.
Chapter Thirteen
“Miss Fitzgerald?”
Lisa turned and faced the middle-aged woman behind her the next afternoon. “Yes. And you are...?”
“Sylvia Wells. I’m a freelance house cleaner and I’m your surprise home-tender this week.”
“My— What?”
Her look of shock inspired the other woman’s smile. “An anonymous friend thought you needed assistance and hired me to provide it. If that’s all right with you, of course.”
“I... Um...”
Lisa’s brain circled this new circumstance.
Did they need help?
Yes. She’d pushed off cleaning and organizing since her mother’s death. She’d done the basics weekly, but the whole place could use a good spring-cleaning. “I do need help.” She frowned in the direction of the house. “But it’s not exactly ready for cleaning at the moment, if you get my drift.”
“I do.” Sylvia dipped her chin in understanding. “I can come back tomorrow.” The older woman’s bright smile said it was okay to need a little time to accept the idea of a stranger in your house. “Is that better for you?”
“It is,” Lisa decided. “That way I can corral the laundry and box up stacks of papers. Get them out of your way.”
“But no cleaning.” Sylvia looked straight at her. “That’s what I’m paid to do. I don’t understand women who clean the house before the cleaning service comes. Talk about a waste of money.”
Lisa laughed out loud, because she’d intended to do exactly that. Sylvia
’s commonsense directive gave her the freedom to choose otherwise. “I promise. I’ll remove the clutter and let you do your job.”
“Excellent.” Sylvia reached out and shook Lisa’s hand. “I’ll be here at 8:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Lisa contemplated this gift as Sylvia walked toward the parking lot. Who would do this? And why?
The girls from the newly formed cancer group, she decided. Hadn’t they had a discussion about cleaning and organizing? Letting others help?
Their combined thoughtfulness made her smile. By the time she’d finished the kids’ gardening session on hitchhiker and airborne seeds and avoided Alex Steele by slipping out the back door, she had just enough energy to go from room to room, tossing things into bins. And by the time she was nearly done, the place looked much better.
Her mother had hated clutter. Maggie had been an organized, creative sort, and while no one would ever call her a clean freak, she liked to have order to the chaos surrounding her. Lisa moved into the dining room.
Her step slowed.
So did her heart.
They hadn’t eaten in this room since Maggie’s death. This had been her room, her pseudo-office, the quaint, vintage room holding shelves of gardening info behind handcrafted country doors. The old farmhouse didn’t have a family room, so Maggie had converted an antique rolltop desk into her computer station. With the doors closed and the rolltop in place, no one would know the room underused for holiday meals had really been a vibrant office.
Everything in this room reminded Lisa of her mother. The North Country tablecloth reminiscent of short winter days and long, cold nights. The half-shuttered windows with lace curtain toppers. The soft yellow paint lightening the room and brightly stenciled flowers bordering each door frame, every window.
She’d avoided this room on purpose, because changing this room, cleaning it, meant Maggie was really gone.
Her heart broke into a million pieces standing there. Right now she was tired of being strong, weary of being brave and drained by having so much wrenched out of her hands.
She hesitated at the room’s edge. Breathed in and out. Could she do this? Should she?
“Come unto me, all who are weary, and find rest for your soul...”
Dark possibilities flooded her brain. Her doctor’s office had called to confirm the ultrasound appointment for the following week. That way the doctor would have the tech’s report when she met with Lisa.
Her cell phone ringtone interrupted her worries. Mandisa’s lively tune filled the room, wild and free with reminders of a brand-new day, a new Jerusalem.
“Come unto me...”
She needed to trust God, rely on the perfect timing that hadn’t seemed all that great lately. But was that fact or her skewed perspective?
She ignored the phone, put Mandisa’s quick-step tune on Repeat and high volume on her laptop, then entered the dining room, energized.
She could do this. It was time. Past time. She made her way around the room, clearing this, storing that. When she finally found the table beneath the mess, she whisked off the winter-scene covering and replaced it with a summery floral, bright and new. She cut a vase full of flowers, arranged them and set it in the middle of the table as her father came into the house.
He paused. Then he turned, noting the lack of clutter around him. Finally his gaze rested on Lisa, and she wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Would he be hurt by what she’d done? Annoyed? Angry that she’d taken it upon herself to get things in order?
“Thank you.” Sincerity deepened his simple words.
He opened his arms. Lisa stepped into his hug and felt like a corner of her world righted itself. “It’s okay that I did this?”
“More than okay.” He nodded. His gaze looked moist, but he raised his shoulders in a gesture of acceptance. “Your mother would have been really ticked at us for letting things go.”
Lisa couldn’t argue the truth in that. “I know.”
“But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. At first I just didn’t care. Then it seemed like too much.”
“Ditto. Well, someone got us a cleaning lady,” she told him. “She’s coming tomorrow morning, so I had to restore some sense of order to the place.”
“A cleaning lady?” He frowned, then brightened. “Why didn’t we think of that?”
“I did,” Lisa admitted. “But I’m too stubborn to admit when I need help.”
“You get that from your mother.” He hugged her shoulders, opened a bright summer-plaid round tin and grabbed out two cookies. He held one out to Lisa. “Try these. They’re amazing. Nancy made them and I can’t remember when I’ve had better.”
“Supper...cookies...working together.” She arched a teasing look up to her father. “Sounds like she’s into you, Dad.”
His smile said he wasn’t quite going there yet, but Lisa read more in his look. He seemed calmer. Less troubled. And that made her feel better about things regardless of who or what caused the change.
“She’s easy to talk to. Of course, she gets things because she’s been through it herself.” He jerked one shoulder up. “She lost her husband and her daughter, so she doesn’t take life for granted. It’s nice to have her around, isn’t it?”
Lisa had wondered what it would be like to have another woman around, a total stranger potentially taking her mother’s place. Witnessing her father’s metamorphosis gave her a heads-up. No one could ever take Maggie’s place. She was one of a kind. But she realized now that having someone carve a new niche in their lives, a new normal...
That seemed oddly doable.
Ozzie glanced around and frowned. “I’ve heard this song three times since I walked into the room. Is your thing broken?”
Lisa laughed out loud. “No. It’s fine. I was just reminding myself to greet the day. Embrace change. Carpe diem stuff.”
“Try the cookies,” her father urged again. He held out the tin because he’d already eaten the two he’d extracted. “I’m telling you, these things help what ails you.”
Lisa took a cookie and extolled on the level of excellence. Her father’s smile widened as if he’d made the treats himself. When he’d gone upstairs, she picked up her phone to see who had called earlier.
Alex.
She hadn’t looked purposely. The temptation to answer would have been too great.
She turned back to the dining room. It looked like it should now, a gracious room with period furnishings, country decor and a welcoming presence. Sylvia would provide the dusting, vacuuming and window-washing, all of which were needed, but clearing the clutter and the chaos from her mother’s favorite corner of the house helped clean-sweep Lisa’s soul.
The room looked good. Seeing that made Lisa feel better.
* * *
Step one of his “Win Lisa’s Heart Campaign”: hire household help because she’s too stubborn to do it herself.
Done.
Step two: a pedicure from “Stillwaters,” the spa just outside of Wellsville. Alex tucked the anonymous gift card into the Fitzgeralds’ mailbox before he picked up the girls later that week. With Lisa’s line of work, a manicure would be wasted. She’d made that clear when she showed off her Yankee-clad toes a few weeks back.
In his experience women loved pedicures and clean houses, but would rarely spend money on either. This way it was his dollar, his gift. She just didn’t know that yet.
“Dad, check out these birdhouses!” Becky raced across the stone drive when she spotted him. She held a tiny tie-dyed house in her hand, the rainbow of colors offset by a shingled cedar roof. “Lisa says they’re just the right size for chickadees and they don’t mind having people around their nests. As long as no one touches them.” She shot a look of warning to Josh.
Instantly, he set up a wail. “I d
idn’t touch anything, Dad!”
“You will.”
“I won’t!”
“You better not!”
“Stop. Both of you.” Alex used his tough voice, then squatted to their level. “You need to stop bickering over everything. I’m not kidding, I’m not advising, I’m not messing around. The fighting needs to stop. If it doesn’t, there will be no TV and games for a week.”
“A week?” Becky stared at him. She gulped. “Just for fighting once?” Despair claimed her face, as if realizing the magnitude of never picking a fight with her little brother. “Is that even possible, Dad?”
Probably not, Alex mused silently, but he had to start somewhere. “It is if you make it your goal. Stop bossing him around, and you—” he turned his gaze onto Josh “—stop pestering your big sisters and taking their stuff.”
Josh’s eyes rounded. He shuffled his feet. His chin dipped, then he shrugged. “I’ll try.”
“Me, too.” Becky droned the words as if she’d just been issued a death sentence, but Alex saw the look in her eyes. She knew he meant it. Hopefully she wouldn’t decide to test him any too soon.
Caroline crossed the stone path with Emma. “I love that your girls are at opposite ends of the spectrum,” she declared as she held up Emma’s birdhouse. “Emma went for a gingerbread house design while Becky’s retro-hippie look will stand out in any garden.”
Josh sidled closer to Becky. “I really like how you painted your house, Beck.” He sent a sincere look of admiration to the wild-styled tiny home. “It’s so cool.”
The little guy’s praise made Becky preen. “Wanna touch it?”
“Can I?” Delight widened Josh’s eyes. “Yeah! Of course!”
“Don’t break it.” Becky warned as she handed it over, then stood guard, watching Josh turn the wee house this way and that.
“Birds will really live in this?” Josh turned a questioning gaze up to Caroline.
“They will,” Caroline promised. “If they don’t nest in it this year, I bet they do next year. With birds, you have to be patient.”
“Not just with birds,” Alex noted. He gave the potting barn a meaningful look. “But please pass on the word that I’m a very patient man these days.”
The Lawman's Second Chance Page 16