The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2)

by Ava Miles

  “It wasn’t something I could talk about to Amelia Ann. She’s well…I think she’s still a virgin, and Rye…”

  More laughter from her sister-in-law. “I would almost have paid money to hear what Rye would have said. He’s come a long way from when I first met him. I think he might have surprised us both, but it would have made him want to kill Sterling again. Not that I don’t. I just won’t.”

  She couldn’t imagine how mortified she would have been trying to talk to Rye about that. “I know John Parker isn’t Sterling, but I still…”

  “Get afraid? Tammy, being truly intimate with someone is the scariest and most exhilarating feeling in the world. When Rye and I first…ah…came together, I thought it was temporary, but I cared about him so much, I was willing to risk it. After we’d been together for a while, I was even more afraid about losing him because I didn’t know how he felt. With you and J.P….well, you know he loves you, and that changes everything.”

  Her sister-in-law had a good point. Knowing that did change things.

  “Tell John Parker how things were with Sterling. Trust me. He’ll love you and heal you at the same time. And you’ll see how different everything can be when there’s true love between two people.”

  Healing through sex? Wasn’t that a brain freeze?

  “But I don’t know if I love him.”

  “Are you sure? I see the way you two look at each other.”

  “But everything has happened so fast…”

  “He seems like a man who will give you space when you say you need it. Now Rye…”

  The laughter they shared was freeing, and they held hands as the river rushed past them, muddy brown and soothing.

  “Thank you, Tory. I know this was horribly awkward...”

  Tory pulled her in for a hug, “Nothing’s awkward between sisters.”

  As they walked back to the house, Tammy realized that, for the first time in as long as she could remember, her body felt as open and lush as the land stretched out before them, basking in the sun’s rays.

  Chapter 29

  Rye was hefting Rory and Annabelle’s bikes out of his truck when John Parker walked outside.

  “Tammy wanted to talk to Tory before we left,” Rye said, “so I thought I’d pop on by with more of the kids’ stuff.”

  Sensing there was more, John Parker just nodded and wheeled the pink bike to his garage. Rye would say his piece when he was good and ready.

  “I’m keeping the guards at the house so no one will think it’s abandoned,” his friend said.

  “Sounds like a fine idea.” It was understood they were both frustrated by the police’s lack of progress in finding the intruder.

  He opened the door with the side panel by inputting the code, and inside they went. This room was like all the rest in his house—filled with signs of the woman he loved and her children. Everywhere he looked, their things were sitting next to his, and the sight of it swelled his heart.

  “Why do I have a feeling all this is a baby step toward you marrying my sister?” Rye said, leaning against John Parker’s truck.

  “You have a problem with that?” he asked, not bothering to deny his intentions.

  “You know I don’t, especially since I know you’ll treat her with respect.”

  They shared a glance. The whole big brother protectiveness thing was thick in the air between them, and John Parker wondered how he’d feel when his sisters finally found long-term partners. He probably wouldn’t be too different from Rye when it came down to it.

  “You know I will.”

  “Okay, now let’s go see if they’re ready to come over. Tory and I thought it might be easier on the kids if we got them settled before saying our goodbyes.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  They rode in Rye’s truck, and when Rye’s song, “Country Heaven,” came on the radio, he said, “I am one lucky man,” and turned up the music and started to sing.

  As John Parker listened to Rye’s account of his love story with his now wife, he wondered how his and Tammy’s own story would turn out. Every moment with her and the kids made him feel like he’d found his true home.

  When they pulled up to Rye’s house, Rory came rushing outside with Annabelle. Both of them had their backpacks on, one pink and the other blue. Hampton wasn’t far behind, and he was carrying Bandit, who was still sore and stiff, but was finding his feet again.

  “We’re ready to go, Uncle Rye,” Rory said. “Hi, Mr. McGuiness.”

  “Hey, Rory.”

  “Hey, Mr. McGuiness,” Annabelle said and held her arms out.

  John Parker pulled her up, and she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for letting us stay at your house so the bad man can’t find us.”

  Part of him wanted to assure them that the bad man would never find them, but since the police still didn’t have a suspect, he couldn’t. And he would never lie to them. He caught Rye’s gaze and nodded.

  “You bet, sweetheart,” he said. “Is your mama ready?”

  “Almost. She and Aunt Tory were laughing outside.”

  “It was nice to hear them that way,” Hampton said, trailing after the kids.

  Sure enough, when Tammy and Tory finally emerged from the woods arm in arm they looked like they’d been laughing. There was a bounce in their steps.

  “I hear everyone’s ready to go,” he said, trying not to stare at Tammy like he wanted to swallow her whole.

  “Yes,” Tammy replied, and in her eyes, there was something soft and open he hadn’t seen before.

  “Now who wants to ride with Uncle Rye and who wants to ride with Mama?” Rye asked.

  Rory went with Rye and John Parker, who bundled the rest of the dogs into the back of the truck. Annabelle went with Tammy, and Tory joined Hampton since he would be leaving straightaway as well. Amelia Ann had said her goodbyes the night before.

  When they arrived at the house, the kids kicked off their shoes by the door at Tammy’s request, though John Parker told her not to worry about tracking in dirt.

  She only looked at him and said, “We won’t be muddying up your house, John Parker,” and he immediately fired back, “My house is y’all’s house.”

  There was a shift between them, almost like the first shot had been fired on a battlefield, and he knew she was going to do everything she could to remind herself, the kids, and him that this situation was temporary.

  Well, Rye had read him like a book. He was of another mind.

  The kids dropped their backpacks on their small beds, one with a comforter decorated with dancing sunflowers, and the other with puppies playing. They looked around, as if taking in how the new space had been redesigned for them. All the adults’ eyes were on them to see how they reacted. Rye settled Bandit into his bed in the corner, and Charleston, who had led them into the room as though she’d been hired as their personal valet, plopped down beside him. Barbie trotted beside Annabelle, who immediately picked up her blond princess doll, which had been waiting for her at the head of her bed, and clutched it to her chest.

  Bullet and Banjo were off playing in the woods since Rye had already said goodbye to them, and John Parker prayed they would be on their best behavior.

  “Your uncle and I have a surprise for you,” he told the kids finally, and Tammy glanced at him, a look of wonder in her eyes. “It’s outside. But you’ll need to put your shoes back on, and let’s leave your dogs here to keep Charleston company.”

  A short while later, everyone was trekking through the woods near his property. The kids spotted it at the same time, “Oh, my gosh.”

  Nestled between two giant oaks, the tree house he, Rye, and Hampton had constructed with the help of the carpenter who’d built the mill, stood six feet off the ground. Freshly painted red, the white door on the front was a whimsically designed landscape with gumdrops, candy cane flowers, and a sunflower for a sun, his sister’s artistic work. There was a long ramp leading up to the house, and Annabelle was already halfway up bef
ore she turned around and asked, “Is it safe, Rory?”

  Her brother had hung back, but he looked up at Rye, who nodded. Then he said, “It’s okay, Annabelle,” and ran to join her, grabbing her hand as they walked inside.

  “The kids love their tree house so much,” Rye said, “I couldn’t bear for them to have to give that up too. Come on inside, y’all. Amelia Ann decorated it for the kids with John Parker’s sister, Susannah.”

  Tammy had her hand over her mouth like she was trying not to cry. Then she firmed her shoulders and lowered it. “So this is what y’all were crawling off to do in the early mornings this week. It’s so beautiful, and I love y’all so much right now. John Parker, please thank Susannah for me too.”

  “I expect you’ll see her around the house sometime soon, but she was happy to help.”

  He kissed her cheek, something he hadn’t done in front of her family, and her eyes widened for a second before going all soft again. Yes, things were definitely shifting between them.

  The adults followed the kids through the door, and Tammy said, “Oh, my goodness,” just like the kids had, losing the composure she’d assembled.

  They’d painted the large room inside the tree house a happy yellow and added some white trim to the square holes they’d cut to serve as windows. They’d stained the floor a honey brown, and Amelia Ann had added a simple navy rug. His sister had painted hearts on one wall and sunflowers on another. On the remaining two, her brush had given life to a castle and a knight crossing a drawbridge. Susannah had always been a talented artist, and it felt good to have his family’s imprint on the tree house, like they were already embracing Tammy, Rory, and Annabelle.

  “Look, Mama,” Annabelle cried, pointing to the Barbie dolls Amelia Ann had taken from her bedroom and arranged in the dollhouse he’d bought.

  Rye had insisted on paying for everything, and rather than come to blows over it, he’d agreed. The dollhouse was the one thing he’d bought for Annabelle himself. For Rory, he’d pulled his telescope out of a storage closet and installed it into one of the openings.

  “That telescope is J.P.’s, Rory,” Rye told him, “so you’ll have to ask him about the stars and such. He’s always been able to pick out all the constellations.”

  After his father left, John Parker had hated sleeping in the house, so his mama would let him camp in a tent with his golden retriever, Duffer, all summer long. When the heat was stifling, he’d end up on his back with the stars overhead. Because he noticed patterns in the sky, he checked out a library book about astronomy and learned all the constellations. As a kid, it had been a comfort to him to look up at the night sky because he figured if God could hold up millions of stars like that, he could and would help John Parker and his family.

  “We figured this would be the perfect place for y’all to play,” Hampton said from the corner of the room, jostling the two little chairs in pale green nestled against the white work table decorated with Annabelle’s tea set and Rory’s toy soldiers.

  Susannah had also added some decorative battery-powered lanterns for light and some rough artwork above the window openings with sayings like Kid Zone, Love Wins, and Let There Be Magic. A colorful mobile of dragonflies, which also lit up, hung from the ceiling like a chandelier. In the corners were nestled two dog beds for Barbie and Bandit.

  “I love this place!” Annabelle cried, sounding more like her old self.

  “Me too! Thank you so much, Uncle Rye, Mr. McGuiness, Granddaddy,” Rory said, and Annabelle thanked each of them too, giving out hugs and kisses.

  Soon it was time to say goodbye, and they were all gathered in the drive with the kids crying and clinging to their granddaddy and aunt and uncle.

  Rye hugged Tammy long and tight, and said, “I hate leaving y’all like this, but I know y’all will be okay here. There’s no one better than J.P.”

  “I know, Rye,” she whispered back, and again, that open look in her hazel eyes made him wish they were alone.

  When the two vehicles pulled out of his driveway, John Parker had to keep a firm hand on Rye’s dogs, Bullet and Banjo, who had returned, almost as if they sensed Rye was leaving them for a long time. Once they were settled, he scooped Rory up into his arms and turned to Tammy, who was already holding Annabelle.

  “Well now, how about we head inside and scrounge up a snack?”

  Tammy nodded, and as they crossed his threshold, he said a prayer that they were here to stay, right where they belonged.

  Chapter 30

  They settled into a rhythm over the next couple of days. At first, Tammy tried to do everything herself, but like water to a rock, John Parker slowly waited her out until she started including him in the ongoing actions of taking care of Rory and Annabelle, anything from helping Rory with his bath while she tended to Annabelle to reading them stories and comforting them after one of their ongoing night terrors.

  Her family called each day, and Rye made good on his promise to send a collection of songs to play for the kids at bedtime. Sometimes John Parker sang along with Rye as he and Tammy put the kids to bed, and Annabelle melted his heart by saying, “You have a pretty voice too, Mr. McGuiness.”

  The construction was complete on his property, and the side gardens had been planted—the soil still soft, the mulch still fresh. Whenever Tammy fussed about the chocolate garden being incomplete, he would tell her to focus on the kids and catch up with her other clients. He was already a client for life, so she could finish his garden later. She thanked him profusely and promised to be fast about it. In truth, he loved to watch her work—drawing garden designs with a sharp yellow pencil or combing through gardening books while the kids played outside or watched TV.

  Each night after the kids went to bed, they settled on the couch and watched a movie or walked through the gardens. She had started carrying a long-range baby monitor on these occasions, wanting to hear the kids if they needed her in the night. Often they kissed in those quiet moments. Sometimes he caressed her, but he held back, keeping things light between them.

  Even though he was going mad with desire for her.

  A week into their time together, Annabelle’s scream tore through the house in the middle of the night. He’d taken to sleeping in a T-shirt and boxers, so he was running down the hall to her room in a matter of seconds. Tammy was already by her side, clad in a simple cotton wrap over her nightgown.

  “Mama,” Annabelle cried out, her eyes wide in the dim light of the room. “The bad man is coming.”

  Tammy sat on the bed and pulled her daughter onto her lap, rocking her. “No, darlin’, he can’t, remember? We’re safe here.”

  Rory was shaking when John Parker scooped him out of bed too. “But he could come back,” the little boy said.

  “No, son, I told you, he won’t find us here, and even if he did, you know your mama and I would protect you. Nothing bad can happen to you here.”

  “It did at Uncle Rye’s house,” Rory protested.

  There was no way to convince him otherwise. Fear had a way of turning everything on its head, and John Parker felt helpless again as the little boy clutched at his neck, crying softly with Annabelle, the dogs whining with them.

  That night, after changing the sheets and putting Annabelle into fresh pajamas, all four of them ended up in Tammy’s bed, the kids cuddled between the two adults. It had only happened a couple of times, but each time, John Parker would link his hand with Tammy’s over the kids’ small bodies until they finally fell into an exhausted sleep. Then he would watch as her silent tears fell into the pillow—every drop like a hammer strike to his heart.

  “I’m going outside for a while to think,” he whispered to her finally. “We need to come up with a way to help the kids. We can’t continue on like this.”

  She squeezed his hand before he carefully removed himself from the bed and padded down the hall, letting himself out the back door, the bigger dogs following in his wake.

  The crickets were carrying on something fierce
with the cicadas, and there was comfort in that. Even at night, things were still awake and singing, bringing order to a world in darkness.

  That was it: the kids needed balance to be restored to them. They needed to know something could watch over them at night. All the reassurances in the world weren’t working.

  Like he did when he was writing a song, he went inside himself, letting the grass caress his bare feet as he walked until he could make out the pale light coming from the water feature Tammy had installed on his land.

  Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, it didn’t seem dark at all. The starlight in the heavens shone like white diamonds, and he made out Ursa Major and Minor and then Sagittarius, who was symbolized by the archer with the bow.

  Maybe if he told them the story about the half-man, half-horse watching over them from the stars, they would feel safe again.

  But he could already hear Rory’s logic. The archer is so far away. What if he can’t get here in time to help us?

  He needed something tangible, something the kids could believe was close by. And there needed to be something magical about it. Fairytales helped children believe good always overcame evil, that love conquered all.

  To help him think, he started humming like he always did when he was searching inside himself for lyrics, but this time he asked God to help him find the right story to help the precious children he loved so much.

  He sat on the bench in front of what was supposed to become his chocolate garden. The beds lay fallow, but he could smell the ripeness of the land waiting to be planted. His eyes closed, and behind his lids he could see Tammy’s chocolate garden—the lush chocolate vine she planned to train around a tower in his yard, the chocolate sunflower that would stretch its dark face to the bright sun. He could smell the chocolate plants that would give off a heavenly cocoa fragrance.

  There was magic here, he realized. Could he use that to help the kids somehow?

  By the time the moon had traversed his backyard, there was a plan fleshed out in his mind, and he hung his head and said a prayer of thanks. He’d have to tell his mama about his time alone with God in the wee hours of the night, and his conviction that there would always be an answer when one was needed.