Don't Give Me Butterflies

by Tara Sheets

  “The lavender farm?” Juliette squinted for a moment, then gave a little gasp. “Hold on. Does she have a grandson?”

  Did she ever. “Yes.”

  “Ooh.” Juliette made a sound of approval in the back of her throat. “I’ve seen him at the farmer’s market. Tall and swoony, with dark hair?”

  “Are you girls talking about me again?” Romeo, Juliette’s former boss, breezed in from the back room on a cloud of expensive men’s cologne. He was a handsome man in his late sixties with silver streaks in his dark hair, and he had a smile that could charm the spots off a leopard. Romeo had recently agreed to sell the florist shop to Juliette, since he and his husband, Caleb, were retiring to Florida.

  “We’re talking about a guy Kat’s moving in with,” Juliette said with a laugh.

  “And he’s tall and swoony?” Romeo held up his coffee cup, toasting to Kat’s success. “Good for you, honey.”

  “I’m not moving in with him,” Kat said in exasperation. “It’s not like that. He happens to live at Willowbrook Lavender Farm with his grandmother, and I’m just renting the place above their garage.”

  “Oh.” Romeo chuckled. “That guy.”

  “Yes. Why?” Kat’s brows drew together. “Is there something wrong with him? If he’s a dangerous ex-con, tell me now because I plan to move in there after work tomorrow.”

  Romeo’s coffee cup was halfway to his mouth, but he paused and lowered it. “Nothing like that. I was just getting my hair cut at Dazzle yesterday, and the ladies over there were complaining about him. They call him Mr. Mysterious because ever since he arrived a month ago, he’s been keeping to himself.”

  “So?” Kat asked. “I keep to myself sometimes.”

  “But according to them, he’s practically antisocial. And he’s single,” Romeo said with an exaggerated shudder. “That’s why the ladies are bothered.”

  Kat wanted to laugh. She hadn’t known Romeo long, but he had such an easygoing nature, and he was always quick to find humor in any situation. “Being single isn’t exactly a crime, you know.”

  “Oh, honey,” Romeo said. “In a small town like this, it is. If you’re a hot-blooded American male, you have to at least try to be social. It’s practically the law.”

  Juliette untied her apron and hung it on a hook behind the register. “Well, now Kat can get the scoop on Mr. Mysterious, and give us all the juicy details.”

  “What if I find out he’s a serial killer?” Kat asked wryly. “What if that’s the scoop?”

  “Killer shmiller,” Romeo teased. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I’m sure he’s not a bad guy, Kat,” Juliette said. “I’ve seen him selling lavender for his grandmother at the farmer’s market. Some people are just really private.”

  “However,” Romeo said, tossing his now empty coffee cup in the garbage can, “if he is a serial killer, can I have Hank when you’re dead?” He grinned at the little dog and bent to scratch him under the chin. “You want to move to Florida with me and Caleb, little guy?”

  Hank’s tail wagged so fast, it was almost a blur.

  Kat folded her arms and gave Romeo a look. “If I die, I’m going to haunt you first.”

  He let out a bark of laughter, then picked up the dog, bringing them nose-to-nose. “She can rattle her chains all she wants, right, Hank? We won’t care, will we? No, we won’t.”

  “Who said anything about rattling chains?” Kat sassed. “I’m talking Poltergeist, evil-clown-doll stuff.”

  Romeo’s expression was a mixture of mock horror and glowing admiration. He glanced at Hank and whispered, “We’ll talk later,” before setting him back on the floor.

  “Let’s go grab lunch.” Juliette pulled her purse out from under the register. “I’m starving and there’s a veggie pizza at Zeek’s with my name on it.”

  Kat thought about her empty apartment above the garage, and her even emptier bank account. She’d have to wait until she got a few paychecks before she could indulge herself in going out to eat.

  But before she had a chance to decline, Juliette pulled a slip of paper from her purse and waved it in the air as she marched out the door. “I have a coupon for buy one, get one free, so today’s lunch is on me.”

  Kat waved good-bye to Romeo and followed Juliette outside with Hank trotting along at her heels. As they made their way toward the pizza parlor near Front Street, Kat thought of Jordan standing on the porch at the farmhouse. He just didn’t seem to fit in there with his grandmother. Something felt off about it. He’d seemed restless and casually detached when he showed her around. Mr. Mysterious, indeed. She’d be moving in tomorrow. Whatever his story was, she was about to find out.

  Chapter Five

  “Here.” Smitty dumped a pile of office supplies in front of Kat on Monday afternoon. They spilled across the receptionist desk in a jumble of visual white noise.

  “Sort these into the desk drawers so they’re organized.” Smitty began pointing at drawers with a sparkly red fingernail. “The paper clips go there. The extra staples go here. And everything else goes inside individual boxes in the large file cabinet over there.”

  Kat feigned interest, mentally filing those instructions under “Things I’d Like to Do Never.” She’d been working all day at the Daisy Meadows Pet Rescue, and she still hadn’t had a chance to mingle with the animals. Smitty had insisted she learn how to answer the phones and file the paperwork, first.

  The rescue office was a small, one-story building with an area in the back for animal crates. Most of the cats and dogs were assigned to volunteers’ homes until they were adopted, so thankfully the place wasn’t packed with orphaned animals unlike a shelter. One of the things Kat loved about her new job was the prospect of finding homes and pairing animals with the right volunteers.

  As soon as Smitty left for lunch, Kat planned to go back there and get to know the few who were still waiting for foster homes.

  “And if anyone wants to drop off an animal, make sure they fill out these forms,” Smitty said, pointing to the file divider on the desk. “We don’t take any animals unless they fill out forms.” She droned on and Kat took a quick peek at Hank under the desk. He was curled up on a pillow asleep, which is where Kat wished she could be.

  “So that’s it,” Smitty finally said, grabbing her spangled denim purse. “I’m off to lunch, and then I have to run some errands. You should be fine here. Darla might come in to pick up the tabby cat. She’s one of our foster volunteers.” Smitty began digging in her purse, adding, “Just make sure she—”

  “Fills out the forms?” Kat gestured to the file divider.

  “You got it.” Smitty pulled a silver lighter and a pack of cigarettes from her purse. “I’ll see you around four o’clock. Call if you have any questions.”

  Without a backward glance, Smitty stepped outside, lit up a cigarette, and walked across the parking lot to her old Mustang convertible.

  Kat watched her drive off, then groaned and laid her head on the desk. Smitty was one of those people who was okay in small doses. But because of all the new job training, today had been one giant overdose. She rose from the office chair and stretched, rolling her head to ease the tension in her neck.

  The back room was bigger than the front office, with a wall of crates against the far wall. Larger crates were stacked on the bottom, with smaller crates on a ledge above. There was a dog-washing station in the corner, and shelves of pet food and cat litter near the back door. It wasn’t exactly the Ritz-Carlton, but the accommodations were warm, clean, and dry. Sometimes, that was the best you could hope for.

  A brown Labrador puppy began barking at Kat.

  “Hey there.” She opened the crate and helped him out. His whole body wiggled with excitement. Glimpses of long, dull days spent in the crate flashed through Kat’s mind when she touched him. The puppy was bored. He wanted to run around. “Okay, you can do that.”

  She set him down to nose around the room with Hank, then checked out
the other crate.

  A fat orange tabby stared back at her. Kat read the tag on the crate. “Clementine. Female. Found on Eastlake highway. Estimated 4 years old. Pregnant.”

  Kat opened the crate, and Clementine laid her ears back. The orange tabby had been a stray for a long time. Kat could feel it, even before she touched her. When Kat reached out to stroke her soft fur, she was inundated with images and feelings. A tattered cardboard box left in an open field. Confusion. The shelter of a drainpipe during a rainstorm. Hunger. The roar of trucks speeding along the highway. Fear. Kat’s heart squeezed. Clementine had been abandoned. Nothing was worse than being unwanted, but Kat was going to change that.

  “You’re safe here,” Kat whispered, sending comforting messages to the tired cat. “I’m going to find you the best home in the world. I promise.”

  By the time Smitty returned, Kat was sitting at the reception desk poring over the volunteer list.

  Smitty pushed through the front door with a grocery bag in one hand. “How’d it go?”

  “Good,” Kat said. “I found a volunteer to take care of the puppy, but the tabby cat still needs a place.”

  Smitty grumbled something and walked over to a small counter in the corner, which served as the makeshift kitchen. There was a mini-fridge, an ancient coffeepot, and some packets of powdered creamer. Her manager’s office was right beside it, if you could call it an office. It was so small, it looked like a closet with a desk and chair crammed inside.

  “What about you?” Kat asked suddenly. “Can you keep Clementine at your place?”

  Smitty let out a bark of laughter. “Honey, if you saw my place, you’d never ask. I’ve got three rambunctious dogs. Four, if you count Bobby.”

  “Bobby?”

  “My scruffy dog of a nephew who lives on the other side of the island. He visits me on and off, though not nearly enough as he promises he will.” Smitty’s normally sour expression softened. “He can be a royal pain in the bee-hind. But family is family, right?”

  “Mmm,” Kat said. She wouldn’t know, but it was easier than explaining she had no idea who her real family was. Foster care wasn’t just for animals.

  At five o’clock that evening, she scratched the tired tabby between the ears before leaving, vowing to find her a good home. Not everyone had the chance to start life in a happy place. Kat hadn’t. She’d grown up in the system, moving every few years into different foster homes. It wasn’t ideal, but she always believed she’d find the right place to belong. One of these days, she’d do it, too. But until that time came for herself, she’d help others like Clementine.

  Ten minutes later, she pulled into Willowbrook Lavender Farm, parked her car, and headed toward the farmhouse. The front door swung open before she had the chance to knock.

  Jordan stood in the doorway, his hair gloriously rumpled and his clothes covered in dust. He looked messy and tired but still too attractive for his own good. “So you came.”

  “Yes. I said I would.” She self-consciously tried to smooth her hair, knowing it was futile. After driving over with the windows open, it probably looked like her head was on fire.

  He studied her with a slight frown.

  Kat felt a stab of nervousness, wondering if he was going to change his mind about the lease. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled with her presence there, which was beginning to bug her. She wasn’t too thrilled with him either. “What’s the matter?” she blustered. “Chickening out?”

  Amusement flashed in his eyes. He withdrew a set of keys from his pocket and handed them over.

  She gripped the key ring. “Why are there two keys?”

  “One is for the main house so you can use the kitchen. Opal insisted.”

  Kat thanked him and turned to go. It had been a long day. The sooner she could unpack in her own private space, the sooner she could relax.

  “Let me know if you need help carrying your furniture up.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ve got it handled.” She didn’t want him to know there wasn’t anything to carry up except a battered old suitcase and a tote bag. The last thing Kat wanted was anyone’s pity. Years of practice had taught her just how to play it off when she was lacking something. “I’ll see to the animals after I get settled,” she said.

  “I already took care of it today.” He shut the door before she could respond.

  “Then I’ll just go say hi,” Kat said under her breath. Jeez Louise, what the heck was up with him? The beast must’ve had a bad day at the castle. Or he just didn’t like the fact that she was moving in. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to waste her time trying to figure it out. Jordan Prescott could brood all he wanted. Kat had plans for her future, and this time, she wasn’t going to veer off course for anyone. Her friends were just going to have to live with the disappointment of not getting to know Mr. Mysterious, because Kat had no time to waste on him.

  Twenty minutes later, she and Hank were officially moved in to their new home. Their new temporary home, she reminded herself. Eventually she’d need to find a more permanent solution, but for now, it worked. She dropped into the lumpy recliner chair as Hank nosed around the room. He didn’t seem impressed.

  “It isn’t cozy yet, but we’ll make it better,” she assured him. “I’m going to go shopping as soon as we get our first paycheck.”

  The recliner chair was overstuffed and several decades out of fashion, but, it would work just fine until she got a bed. Hank jumped into her lap, and she snuggled him close. At least she wasn’t alone. All in all, things were going to be okay.

  * * *

  It was past six o’clock by the time Kat made her way to the small gray barn beside the farmhouse. When she neared the gate, she slowed to a stop.

  A brand new chicken coop had been erected against one side of the barn. It had nest boxes above the ground for roosting, and the whole structure was enclosed with sturdy wire mesh. The three scrawny chickens were pecking at a pan of corn in the corner. They clucked in contentment when she approached, and Kat could feel their relief at having a safe place to roost.

  She thought of Jordan all covered in dust earlier. He must’ve spent the day building it. No wonder he was tired and grumpy.

  Inside the barn, the mini donkey’s ears perked up when she approached. He was happy to see her. Kat knelt down to pat his neck, and he pressed his head into her side. “It’s good to see you, too,” she said, rubbing her forehead against his. “What’s your name, little guy? What do they call you?”

  A shadow fell over the doorway. “He doesn’t have a name.”

  She turned to find Jordan standing near the entrance. He’d changed his clothes, and his hair was damp, as if he’d just showered. Tall and broad-shouldered, he stood in the doorway limned in sunlight like some mythic warrior, watching her with those glittering golden eyes.

  Kat felt her limbs go soft, and she bit her bottom lip. Jeez, the man could melt polar ice caps with that smolder.

  “My grandmother wants you to come to dinner,” he said.

  Kat continued petting the donkey. “Waffles?”

  “You want to name the donkey Waffles?”

  “No,” Kat said with a laugh. “I was talking about your freezer full of waffles. I figured that’s what we were having for dinner since you guys rarely cook.”

  The corners of his mouth curved up. Finally, something other than a smolder. “I think she’s making her cornflake casserole. Just lower your expectations and you should survive.”

  “I saw the new chicken coop,” Kat said warmly. “You built it today, didn’t you?”

  Jordan ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Yes. But only because someone told me it had to happen right away because . . . What was it?” He made a show of searching the ceiling, trying to remember. “Oh, yes. The chickens felt sad and unsafe.”

  When he looked back at her, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made her whole body flush with heat. She had to glance away for a moment
to gather up her scattered thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she tried not to smile. “You’re teasing me just to get a rise out of me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and grinned. “Is it working?”

  Oh, it was working, all right. Just not in the way he meant. One look at Jordan’s hard body and wicked smile made Kat want to rise up and follow wherever he wanted to lead. Even if it was flat on her back in the hay. Did he always have this effect on women? Maybe he did, and he was just born with it. She suddenly wondered what he was like as a child. “I bet you were a terror on the playground when you were younger, running around teasing girls.”

  He shrugged. “Not really. I was more of a quiet kid.”

  “And did your teachers buy into that whole quiet little angel act?”

  He pushed off the doorframe and started walking toward her. “I never said anything about being an angel.”

  The mini donkey shied away, scrambling back into his stall.

  “Hey,” Kat called after him. “You’re okay, little guy.” She rose and followed him, bending down to run her hands over his back in long, comforting strokes. “What do you think of the name Waffles, huh? Does that work for you?”

  He nuzzled her hand. Apparently, it did.

  “He’s afraid of me,” Jordan said from a few feet away. “Most animals don’t seem to like me.”

  She turned and stood. “Have you tried to make friends? Usually they’re just wary of people who aren’t interested. People hold the fate of animals in their hands. If a person has no interest, then they aren’t invested in what happens to them. And that’s a scary place to be, if you’re an animal.”

  Jordan studied her from beneath dark, thick lashes. “I saw you with that crow the other day.”

  A nervous zip of energy shot through her. She wondered if he was going to bring that up. “That’s Edgar. He’s wild, but he’s friendly.”