He gave her hand a pointed look.
She let it drop. “We need to talk, Cruz.”
“I’d like to end the night on a good note, if you don’t mind.”
“I know you’re new to this, but you can’t just . . . buy her everything she wants. She’s only four, and she’ll come to expect it. I don’t think either of us can afford that, and even if we could, it’s not good for her.”
“I’m not having this conversation tonight.”
“You’ll spoil her. I know you don’t aim to do that.”
He turned, one hand flat on the screen door, his jaw ticking. “Zoe . . . I’ve missed four birthdays and four Christmases. I think I’m due some catching up. She had nothing to play with at my place, so I let her pick out a few things. She was excited and wanted to bring some of them here. That’s it.”
“Some of them? You mean there’s more?”
He narrowed his eyes.
Zoe put her hands up. “All right. I get it. I just want to make sure this doesn’t become a regular thing.”
“I have her best interests at heart.”
“I know you do.” She remembered the look on his face as he’d watched her run up the stairs. Remembered the purple toenails. “You painted her toenails.” She hadn’t aimed to say that last out loud.
His shoulders stiffened. “What, was that wrong too?”
He held her gaze for a long moment. His jaw was hard, his eyes steely. Not an ounce of warmth anywhere in those chocolatey depths.
But she envisioned him as he must’ve looked earlier, bent over her little girl’s feet while he painstakingly dabbed at her tiny nails.
A breath left her body in a long, slow exhale. “No. It’s really sweet actually.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, and his lips went soft before he closed up again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The screen door opened with a squawk and slapped shut behind him a moment later.
She was still in the doorway as his truck disappeared into the twilight in a cloud of dust.
chapter twenty-six
Mama, I’m hungwy!”
Zoe heard her daughter but she couldn’t make her eyes open.
Gracie shook her shoulder. “Mama! Wake up.”
Zoe rolled over in bed. Every muscle in her body hurt. Even her eyelids ached, and the sheets felt too cool against her heated skin.
“Wake up, Mama. Can we have pancakes this morning?”
Zoe cracked her eyes open, smothering a groan. Good grief, it was almost eight o’clock. And she was sick. She covered her face with her forearm. So sick.
“Honey . . .” She cleared the croak from her voice. “You think you can be a big girl and make yourself a bowl of cereal?”
“But I want pancakes.” Gracie bounced on the bed. “You sound funny.”
“Stop bouncing, sweetie. Mama’s sick. I’m going to need your help today.”
Zoe felt a cool hand against her cheek. “You have a high temper, Mama!”
Zoe breathed a laugh. “Go make yourself some cereal. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Okay.” Gracie scampered from the room.
Of all the days to be sick. A contractor was coming today to work on the wiring, and a plumber was coming at noon. Miss Ruby had taken a personal day to help her nephew’s pregnant wife. That meant Zoe was going to have to take Gracie to the barn with her. She was exhausted just thinking about the day ahead.
One step at a time. First, she’d get a shower. Then she’d coax Gracie to get ready.
She threw back the covers and sat up. She shut her eyes against the throbbing pain in her head. Change of plans. First, some ibuprofen.
By the time they were ready all Zoe wanted to do was fall back into bed. Instead she coerced Gracie into packing a day-bag filled with things to occupy her at the barn.
Zoe was suddenly grateful for the new toys Cruz had bought. She would’ve hugged him if he’d been there. Never mind that he would’ve stiffened and pushed her away. He’d been politely distant in the two and a half weeks since he’d learned the truth.
Five long minutes later Zoe couldn’t bring herself to feel even a moment’s pride at the barn’s transformation as she stepped inside. She headed straight for the barstool behind the finished counter/bakery case and fell onto it. Why hadn’t she bought a sofa? No barn was complete without one.
She cupped her forehead. Come on, ibuprofen.
Gracie trotted over, her new dolly clutched in her arm. “You all wight, Mama?”
“I’m fine. I just need to rest a minute.” Or a week.
Oh, man. The week she had lined up—how was she going to get through it? She was overwhelmed by the thought of walking across the barn, much less overseeing the remaining renovations. She had to sort through her grandma’s recipes and figure out the accounting. She also had two interviews with potential staff and an entire market to stock with inventory.
“Bella will take care of you, Mama.” Gracie handed her the doll.
Zoe took it, warmed by her daughter’s compassion. “Thanks, honey.”
“Anybody here?” Noah Mitchell entered the barn.
“Over here,” Zoe croaked.
His face fell as he looked at her, making Zoe realize she must look as bad as she felt. She couldn’t help but feel like a mangy mutt in the presence of the good-looking handyman.
“Oh, hey. Are you all right, Zoe? You look . . .”
“Terrible? Disgusting? Like a corpse?”
He gave a sheepish look as a flush crawled up his neck. “I was going to say a little under the weather.”
“Sure you were. I was expecting Seth or one of your contractors.” Noah and his brother owned Mitchell Construction, but Noah ran the room addition portion of the business.
“The project I’d planned to start this morning got delayed, so here I am.” He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the space. “This is looking good. I hear you’re wanting to be open in time for Peach Fest.”
“That’s the plan. But it’s a tight schedule.”
“Well, let’s see what I can do to move things along.”
Cruz got out of his truck and walked up the farmhouse’s porch steps. He gave the screen door a few hard raps and waited.
He wanted to let Zoe know he’d found her a potential employee. One of his crew had a wife looking for work, and she sounded ideal for the market.
Cruz hadn’t wanted to see Zoe at all. He’d avoided her as much as possible the past couple weeks, seeing her only when he picked up or dropped off Gracie. But she hadn’t replied to the text he’d sent two hours ago. So after his supper he’d stopped by the barn to be sure she’d gotten his message, but it was locked up tight.
He knocked again and told himself he wasn’t there because, deep down, he really wanted to see Zoe. He was still angry with her. She’d cheated him of four years with his daughter, and it was going to take some time to get over that. To rebuild trust.
On a positive note, his mom had come to town with her husband last week and met Gracie for the first time. She’d been overjoyed to have a granddaughter, and after spending a couple hours with Gracie, she was smitten. They were already talking about Cruz bringing Gracie down to Atlanta for a weekend as soon as harvest was over.
He frowned at the screen door, wondering what was taking so long. Zoe had to be home. Her old red truck was in the drive, and the door was cracked open a bit.
“Zoe?” he called through the screen door. “It’s me.”
He made a face as he realized identifying himself wasn’t going to get him inside more quickly. He hadn’t exactly been warm toward her lately.
He knocked louder. “Zoe?”
A niggle of worry squirmed inside. What if something was wrong? What if something had happened to Gracie? Zoe would’ve called, right?
“Cruz? What are you doing here?”
Her voice was a low scrape across her throat. Her red curls were tousled, and she had a pillow crease on her cheek. Even through the screen
he could see the shadows under her eyes.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m sick. What do you think’s wrong?”
“Where’s Gracie?”
Zoe checked her watch. “Oh, shoot. I need to get her up or she’ll never sleep tonight.” She started for the steps, looking like she was about to collapse.
He reached for the door handle. “I’ll get her. Go sit down before you collapse.”
It was a testament to her state of being that she turned toward the couch without argument.
Upstairs he found Gracie curled on her bed asleep, her new doll tucked in her arms. Her hair spilled over her pillow, and her long eyelashes fanned the tops of her cheeks.
“Bella?” He touched her shoulder. “Time to wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered open. They were sleepy and dazed as they fixed on him. Then her little bow lips curved as she whispered, “Daddy.”
Be still my heart.
“Am I going to your house?”
“Not tonight. I just stopped by. Did you have a nice nap?”
“Mm-hmm.” She snuggled against his leg, and when her stomach gave a growl she giggled.
“Someone’s hungry. Let’s go see what we can do about that.”
He followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Zoe stood in front of the open refrigerator.
“Daddy’s here, Mama!”
Zoe startled, then turned, letting the door fall shut. “I know, honey.”
“My tummy’s gwowling.”
Zoe moved to the pantry, wincing as if it hurt to move.
“Why don’t you go lie down?” Cruz said. “I’ll make her something.”
“You don’t have to do that.” She moved some cans around. “You should get out of here before you catch this.”
“You look like you’re about to drop.” He tugged her elbow. “Go on. I’m kicking you out.”
“Have it your way.” She shoved a can at him as he ushered her out. “Just make soup or something.”
HALF AN HOUR later Gracie was at the island, happily humming as she ate her pancakes and eggs. Cruz made Zoe a plate and found her in the living room, slumped over the sofa’s arm, asleep. Her hair spilled over her flushed cheeks, and she was folded in on herself as if she were cold.
He set the plate down and pulled a nearby afghan over her. She didn’t even stir. He hated to wake her, but she obviously needed some Tylenol or something. He wondered if she’d had anything to eat today. Or drink. She could be dehydrated for all he knew.
He touched her shoulder. “Zoe.”
Her eyes opened. They were glassy and confused for a long moment before they fell on him.
“Save yourself,” she muttered before her eyes fell shut again.
His lips twitched. “Where’s your Tylenol? I think you’re running a pretty high fever.”
“Kitchen cupboard over the sink.”
He returned a minute later with the medicine and a glass of water. Zoe seemed to be asleep again.
“Wake up. I have some Advil.”
She sat up, wincing, and took the pills and glass of water. “Thanks.”
“You should eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Have you eaten anything today?”
She found the energy to give him a look.
He picked up the plate and set it on her lap. “Just a few bites.”
“Where’s Gracie?”
“In the kitchen eating her supper, like a good girl.” He gave her a pointed look.
“Fine.” She tore off the edge of a pancake and took a bite. “Happy?”
“Don’t forget the eggs. You need the protein.”
“Yes, Mom.”
A minute later he settled at the other end of the couch with his own plate and flipped on the TV to the evening news. She ate slowly, but by the time she set the plate aside, half of the food was gone.
Gracie had finished also and gone to her room to get the game he’d promised to play with her.
“Thanks for your help,” Zoe said. She was slouched into the corner of the couch, her eyes on the TV. “You don’t have to stay.”
“When did you come down with this?”
“This morning.”
“And you worked in the barn all day?”
“I’m a mom. That’s what we do.”
“You should’ve called me.”
She blinked, and he could tell it hadn’t even occurred to her.
“You had to work too,” she said.
“You don’t have to do it alone anymore. Okay, Zoe? I don’t mind helping out with Gracie. I like being with her.”
Zoe turned toward him, and their eyes met. He saw the moisture there and wondered if he’d said something wrong or if her fever was just getting the better of her. Women were a mystery sometimes.
“I know you do.”
“Then let me help. Will Miss Ruby be back tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you have on your agenda?”
“Um . . .” Her eyebrows crinkled. “I need to oversee the work going on in the barn, interview a couple people, and do some product research.”
“You’re going to have to postpone the interviews. You’re contagious. And the contractors are competent. I’ll check in on them throughout the day, and they have your number if they have questions.”
“I should be there. And you’re too busy.”
“I’m just mowing the middles tomorrow,” he said, referring to the grass between the tree rows. “You should stay put. You need to get better.”
She wilted even further into the sofa. “I guess I could reschedule the interviews for the weekend. And do the research here.”
“Now you’re talking.”
“Got it, Daddy!” Gracie was coming down the stairs, one at a time, her little legs working fast.
“You don’t have to stay.”
“I don’t mind.” He got up off the sofa. “Get some rest.” And then he led his daughter into the kitchen to play Candy Land.
chapter twenty-seven
The week passed in a blur, but by the time Friday arrived Zoe felt human again. She’d actually found a lot of inventory for the store in between taking naps and forcing fluids. Though he was still distant, Cruz had been a lifesaver, watching over the renovations and keeping Gracie occupied in the evenings.
After answering some questions from Noah in the barn she got a burst of energy. Maybe it was just the coffee kicking in, or maybe it just felt good to feel normal again.
Since her interviews had been rescheduled for Saturday and the work on the barn was progressing just fine without her, she decided it was time to get out of the house. Time to visit her dad. She’d hardly seen him since their supper together, beyond quick greetings at church, and if she was going to have a relationship with him, she had to do her part.
He still carried a grudge about her abrupt departure, but it was time to put the past behind them. Other than Gracie, Brady, and baby Sam, he was her only relative, and she was an adult now. Surely they could get along. She wanted Gracie to have a grandpa. And though he hadn’t shown much interest in baby Sam, she hoped he just needed a little nudge.
The sun was shining brightly, but the humidity was bearable, so Zoe packed a lunch from the groceries Cruz had brought over earlier in the week.
“Where we going, Mama?” Gracie asked from her perch on the island stool. She stuck out her sandaled feet, wiggling her toes and admiring the way her purple nail polish glimmered in the morning light.
“We’re going to visit your papaw at work.”
“What for?”
“We’re taking him lunch.”
Once the food was packed up, she said good-bye to Miss Ruby and loaded Gracie into the car. It didn’t take long to get to her dad’s law firm, which was almost in the dead center of town. The green canopy over the door was new, but the sign was the same as it had been when she’d interned there. When her dad thought she would one day
be his partner. The top item in a long list of ways she’d disappointed him.
Enough of that.
She shoved the memories down as she opened the door. The cool brush of air conditioning chilled her skin, and the familiar scent of legal briefs and failed aspirations assaulted her senses.
Luanne Watkins sat behind the desk, her chestnut hair teased to the ceiling, same as always.
Her hazel eyes lit up as they landed on Zoe, the crow’s-feet at the corners creasing. “Well, look who it is.” She came around the desk and greeted Zoe with a warm hug, rocking a few times for good measure.
“’Bout time you popped in, young lady. And who’s this little angel?”
“My daughter, Gracie. Say hello to Miss Luanne, honey.”
Gracie smiled shyly. “Hi.”
“Well, aren’t you just the spitting image of your mama. Look at those red curls. It’s like you, running around years ago.”
“She’s not nearly the trouble I was.”
“Now, now, you were just spirited is all.”
“I believe Daddy’s of a different persuasion.”
“Oh, what does he know? How’s your grandma’s orchard faring? You’ve probably got your hands full out there.”
“I do. I’m opening up a market in that old barn by the road.”
“I heard about that. I can’t wait to come pick out some fresh peaches and get to my summer baking.”
Zoe looked over her shoulder toward the hall that led to her dad’s office. “Is Daddy in?” She held up the bagged lunch. “I came with a peace offering.”
“Oh, you.” Luanne waved her hand. “Just go on back. Maybe he’ll actually take a lunch break today.”
“That’s the hope.” With one last smile, Zoe headed down the hall, Gracie’s hand in hers. The plush beige carpet was new, and the white walls looked freshly painted. Daddy wasn’t one to let things go to ruin. Probably why she’d frustrated him so much. All that lost potential.
She stopped in the open doorway, her hands suddenly trembling. His readers were perched on the end of his nose as he bent over a stack of papers. The light flooded in through a picture window, highlighting his salt-and-pepper hair. He was a handsome man for his age, despite eyes that were set a tad too close and a perpetual pinch between his brows.
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