About That Man

by Sherryl Woods

  “Not babies,” Daisy corrected. “Flowers.”

  He stared at her with predictable male horror. “That’s even worse. Why would you want to go look at a bunch of dumb old flowers?”

  “Because I’m going to plant them and you’re going to help.”

  “No way,” he said, retreating to the far side of the car as if he feared contamination by the very idea.

  “You’ll like it.”

  “No, I won’t,” he said. “That’s sissy stuff.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. My father has a garden. Do you think he’s a sissy?”

  “I’ll bet his garden has tomatoes and corn and stuff, not flowers.”

  “Okay, you’ve got a point, but growing things teaches us important lessons about life.”

  “What kind of lessons?” Tommy asked doubtfully.

  “About responsibility and nurturing, for starters.”

  “Why do I need to know about that?”

  “Because you do. Everyone does.”

  “I’ll bet Uncle Walker never planted flowers, and he’s responsible.”

  Daisy wasn’t about to explain that his uncle’s nurturing skills could probably use a little work, though they weren’t in as bad a shape as he liked to pretend.

  “You’ll have to ask him about that,” she said finally, as she pulled into the driveway of a well-stocked nursery where she’d been buying her plants for years. The owner, Marcy Mann, spotted her and headed her way, a grin on her already tanned and well-lined face. Whatever the world’s concerns about the damaging effects of the sun on the skin, Marcy had dismissed them years ago.

  “I was wondering when you were going to get in here,” she said. “You’re late this year.” She smiled at Tommy. “And this must be the young man I’ve been hearing so much about. Are you going to help Daisy with her garden this year?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Tommy muttered.

  “As you can see, he’s not overwhelmed by the prospect,” Daisy told her friend.

  “Let’s go in the hothouse. I have some beautiful impatiens plants set aside for you.”

  “No,” Daisy said. “I think I’m going for something different this year.”

  The older woman regarded her with amazement. “Such as?”

  “I want wild. I want colorful. I want splashy.”

  Marcy’s laughter rang out. “About time,” she concurred eagerly. “Let’s see what I can come up with. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you do something new with your garden. You have all that room and that spectacular view. It needed some color to shake things up.”

  With Tommy reluctantly trailing along behind, she led Daisy up and down rows and rows of seedlings, picking out the most vibrant colors and the most unusual specimens.

  “Tommy, you load those into the back of Daisy’s car,” Marcy said when they had a cart completely filled. Then she led Daisy into the small shed that served as her office.

  “Here’s what you’re going to want to do with those,” she said, taking out a sheet of paper and starting to sketch. She drew in every type of flower they’d chosen and neatly labeled it. “You can’t go wrong if you follow this. Just promise to invite me over to see the results. I’d say by mid-June, it’s going to look spectacular.”

  “I can’t wait,” Daisy told her.

  “So, what brought this on?” Marcy asked as she rang up the sale.

  “Boredom,” Daisy admitted. “I’ve been in a rut.”

  “So you’re breaking out in a big way,” Marcy concluded. “Taking in Tommy, a new man and a new garden.”

  Daisy wasn’t surprised that Marcy had heard all the rumors. Even though she lived on a farm miles from town, everyone in Trinity Harbor showed up here sooner or later to get plants or supplies for their flower and vegetable gardens. And Marcy had the questioning skills of a sly, well-seasoned prosecutor. People told her things before they even realized she’d been digging for revealing information.

  “Nice try,” Daisy said with admiration for the sneaky skill with which she’d tried to ferret out information about Walker. “No comment.”

  Marcy regarded her with an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you mean. I was just making a simple observation.”

  “Were you really?”

  “Of course. You know I would never pry into your personal life, even if not knowing is killing me,” she said pointedly.

  Daisy hugged her. “Thanks.”

  Marcy looked disappointed. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Well, damn. How am I going to explain that I had the source right here and she slipped out of my hands?”

  “Who would you need to explain anything to?” Daisy asked.

  “My customers, naturally. There are people who count on me to know the latest. And once they catch a glimpse of your new garden, they’re going to know you’ve been here. I’ll probably be overrun with the curious before the end of the weekend.”

  “Send them to me,” Daisy advised. “I’ll tell them the same thing I told you.”

  “Which is precisely nothing.”

  “Exactly. Now let me get out of here, before Tommy decides he’s going to walk back to town or, worse, drive himself.”

  “At ten?”

  “What can I say? He’s unpredictable. I don’t like to take chances.”

  In the car, she glanced over at Tommy, who was studiously ignoring her. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “Uncle Walker only comes for a little while, and we’re missing it. It’s not fair.”

  “We’ll be home in twenty minutes. He probably won’t even be there yet.”

  But, of course, he was, probably just to make her look like the bad guy because she’d stolen a few minutes of their time together.

  She didn’t like the way the sight of him stretched out on a chaise longue on her deck made her heart race. Nor did she like the way heat rose to her cheeks when his gaze met hers. He stood slowly and ambled toward them.

  “Where have you guys been?”

  “Daisy made us go to the dumb old nursery and buy a bunch of flowers,” Tommy said, practically quivering with disgusted outrage.

  “Where are they?” Walker asked.

  “Still in the car,” she said.

  “Then let’s get ’em,” he said to Tommy, then looked at her. “Where do you want them?”

  “I put ’em all in the car,” Tommy said. “I don’t see why I should have to take ’em out.”

  “Because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do,” Walker told him. “Now let’s get a move on.”

  “I want to work on the boat,” Tommy said, his expression mulish.

  “Not until these flowers are wherever Daisy wants them,” Walker replied evenly.

  Tommy flopped down in a chair. “I’m not doing it,” he said defiantly.

  Daisy saw the day disintegrating into a contest of wills that no one would win. That wasn’t what she wanted for Tommy. But before she could step in, Walker scowled at his nephew.

  “Then you can go to your room,” he said firmly.

  Tommy stared at him, tears of betrayal shining in his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

  “Neither is refusing to help someone who’s been very kind to you. Think about that while you’re up there. Now go.”

  Tommy cast a desperate look toward Daisy, clearly hoping for a reprieve, but she didn’t dare contradict Walker’s order. When she said nothing, Tommy stomped off, slamming the door to the house behind him.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Walker said. “He has no right to treat you that way.”

  “He was just upset because he thought I was ruining the little bit of time he has with you,” Daisy said.

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “You know something? You sound suspiciously like a parent.”

  Walker looked taken aback. Then, slowly, a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “How about that? Will wonders never cease?”

  “The instincts have been there
all along,” Daisy told him.

  “If you say so,” he said, clearly uncomfortable with prolonging the topic of his parenting skills. “Let’s get those flowers. Do you want them back here?”

  “That’ll be perfect.”

  With Tommy banished to his room, Walker pitched in to help Daisy with her garden. She had to admit it went much faster with him preparing the soil and raking the mulch over it, while she set out the new plants based on the rough design Marcy had created for her.

  By lunchtime, the sun was bright and hot. She was filthy and thirsty. But her garden was taking shape in the most amazing way. She loved the change already, with its wild mix of varieties and clashing colors.

  “I recommend a hot shower and lunch at the marina,” she said as they stood side by side surveying their work. “I’m sure Tommy has gotten the message by now.”

  She glanced up and realized Walker’s gaze was locked on her. “What? Do I have a smudge on my nose or something?”

  “No, you just never cease to amaze me. If anyone had asked, I would have sworn there was no way in hell you would ever look like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “A dirty little street urchin.” He rubbed his thumb along her cheek, his gaze intent as if he found whatever streak of dirt was there to be fascinating.

  Daisy’s heart leapt into her throat. “Is that a good thing?” she asked, her voice choked.

  “Umm-hmm,” he murmured distractedly, then met her gaze. “Makes me wonder what other surprises I should expect.”

  “Nothing very exciting, I’m sad to say.”

  “I don’t believe that. Something tells me you are a very unpredictable woman.”

  “Me? Hardly.”

  But even as she spoke, she realized that the denial was more halfhearted than it might have been a few weeks ago. Daisy had a hunch if Walker—and Tommy, of course—hung around, the predictability of her life could change dramatically. She had never been a big proponent of change. Like her father, she had always thought things were just fine when they were steady and reliable. Now, suddenly, she wanted to seize every chance she got to break out of old patterns. She craved excitement.

  And the most exciting thing to come along in years and years was standing right in front of her…six-feet-one-inch of pure testosterone. Unfortunately, with the strides he was making in parenting, he also seemed more and more likely to be the person who was going to take Tommy away from her.

  Walker gazed at Daisy over the top of his menu. Her hair curled damply around her face, and he had the oddest desire to brush the errant tendrils away, to maybe let his fingers linger against the soft, flushed skin of her cheek. Only Tommy’s still-sullen presence kept him from doing it.

  The kid continued to pout over being banished to his room. Nor was he especially happy that they were wasting time over lunch at the marina.

  “Go and look for Bobby,” Daisy finally said with a touch of exasperation. “Ask him if he’ll take you to see some of the yachts. A few of the owners might be around, and they could let you come on board.”

  Finally, a flicker of excitement rose in the boy’s eyes. “Would he do that?”

  “If he’s not too busy in the kitchen, I’m sure he would,” Daisy said. “And ask him if he’d like to join us for lunch.”

  Still struggling not to show too much enthusiasm, Tommy shrugged. “I guess I can do that.”

  He walked slowly between the tables on the outside deck before breaking into a run.

  “Clever tactic,” Walker said approvingly.

  “He loves boats. I thought it might distract him.”

  “I was thinking of the way you managed to get me all to yourself again,” he teased, just to see the color rise in her cheeks.

  “I did nothing of the kind,” she said, bristling.

  “Here we are, all alone,” he pointed out. “Worked like a charm.”

  “You’re impossible.” She frowned.

  “Pretty much,” he agreed. He glanced around at the sea of unoccupied tables. “It’s awfully quiet here today.”

  “It’s still early in the season,” she said, sounding vaguely defensive. “Besides, with the sun out and the temperature finally in the low eighties, the people who are around are probably working in their yards or out on their boats. I imagine this place will be busy enough at dinner.”

  “I wasn’t criticizing,” Walker said.

  Daisy sighed. “I know. It’s just that you sounded a lot like Daddy. He never has anything good to say about this place. He hates the fact that Bobby’s here, instead of taking over his herd of Black Angus. It would be bad enough if it were just a marina, but his son—his namesake—actually cooks.”

  Walker chuckled. “Yeah, I can see where that might grate on a man like King.”

  “Mind you, it doesn’t stop him from bringing his friends here so he can boast that he’s buying them the best crab dinner in the Northern Neck. He just doesn’t like admitting that it’s his son who’s preparing it.”

  “Does his attitude bother your brother?”

  “Not much. Bobby has a very strong sense of who he is and what he wants in life. Ironically, he got that from Daddy. He says once he owns most of the waterfront property in town and puts this place on the map, Daddy will be bragging to everyone that he was the one who encouraged him.”

  “But you don’t believe it, do you?” Walker guessed, reading the doubt in her expression.

  “No. I think Daddy’s going to hate that even more. He’s a huge believer in the status quo. He doesn’t see any reason to change Trinity Harbor from the sleepy little town it’s always been.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have been on Daddy’s side. Now, I think shaking things up around here has a lot of merit.”

  “Good for you, Sis,” Bobby said, leaning down to drop a kiss on her forehead as he set their tall glasses of iced tea in front of them.

  “You’re waiting tables now, too?” she asked.

  “I told Steve I’d do it, since I was heading this way anyway. He’s got your crab cake sandwiches and Tommy’s burger ordered. They should be ready in a minute. I’m trying out a new assistant in the kitchen. You can help me decide if his food passes muster.”

  “What did you do with Tommy?” Walker asked. “Throw him off a dock?”

  “Nothing that drastic,” Bobby assured him. “I left him over on the first row of slips checking out this speedboat. I’ve never seen anything that souped up. Must go one-forty. It’s top of the line, too. Had to cost a fortune.”

  He avoided looking at Walker when he said it, but Walker’s antennae shot up, anyway. “Why would anybody around here need a boat that goes that fast? Are there races down here?”

  “Not out of Trinity Harbor,” Bobby said. “There are some down in the Chesapeake.”

  “Mind if I go with you to take a look?” he asked. He felt Daisy’s puzzled gaze on him and forced a grin. “Nothing to worry about. You know how we guys are about speed.”

  “I suppose,” she said doubtfully.

  Walker followed Bobby over to the slips, admiring some of the yachts that were docked side by side, each more impressive than the one before. Cabin cruisers, fancy fiberglass fishing boats with swimming platforms off the back and built-in bars trimmed in teak. People had obviously invested thousands of dollars in their weekend toys.

  There were no dilapidated wooden craft at Bobby’s marina.

  When they reached the speedboat, he saw at once what Bobby had meant. Long and sleek and designed for speed, this piece of machinery wasn’t owned by some casual boater. It belonged to someone who raced. The question was, were they racing in perfectly legal boating competitions, or had it been souped up to outrun the authorities? He had a nagging feeling that Bobby had wanted him to take an interest in it for just that reason.

  “Think anybody would mind if I took a look around?” he asked, already hopping down into the boat.

  Bobb
y regarded him with unease. “I don’t know, Walker. This guy’s new. He might not take kindly to anyone poking around on his boat.”

  “He’s not a local, then?”

  “No.”

  “Name?”

  “Craig Remington.”

  “From?”

  “D.C., I think. The boat’s registered in Maryland, though.”

  Good, Walker thought. Both were things he could check out more thoroughly once he was back home. “Single guy? Family man?” he asked.

  “My age,” Bobby said. “Late twenties, I’d say—maybe thirty. I didn’t ask if he was married. What’s up, Walker? Why so many questions?”

  Walker evaded the inquiry and remarked, “Too young to have this much money tied up in a boat, don’t you think?”

  “Hey, playboys have their cash invested in all sorts of things. You should see the men who cruise in here on the weekends with their gold chains and their trophy women. I doubt if any of them waste a lot of time trying to catch fish, despite the top-of-the-line equipment they have on board. Maybe this guy made a killing with tech stocks.”

  Walker felt Tommy tug on his sleeve and realized the boy had followed him onto the boat.

  “How come you care so much about this boat?” he demanded.

  “Just curious,” he said, but he doubted Bobby bought the reply. Tommy seemed to accept it at face value, though.

  A superficial glance around the boat didn’t reveal anything out of the ordinary, and he could tell from Bobby’s expression that there was no way he was going to permit a more thorough search. Walker couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if he were here in an official capacity, much less armed with a warrant.

  He scooped Tommy up and set him back on the dock, then stepped up after him. They were just in time to hear Daisy call, “Food’s here, guys.”

  “I’m starved,” Tommy announced, and darted off at once.

  Walker hung back. “Look, I don’t want to put you in the middle, but keep an eye on this guy, okay? If you get so much as an inkling that he’s into anything suspicious, talk to your brother.”

  “Drugs, you mean,” Bobby said flatly, his expression dejected.

  “Exactly.”

  Bobby rubbed a hand across his face. “That’s the last thing I need around here. I’d been hoping I was wrong.”