to be hospitable?
Curiosity about the Ruckers?
The commonality she shared with the woman she’d just met?
“Actually,” Maria said, “I’d love a cup of tea. Ellie would often brew a pot whenever I stopped by. But I need to get back home. I left my son in charge, and he’s…” She sighed almost wearily. “Well, he hasn’t been getting along with his sister lately.”
“Before you go, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“I’m curious about Mrs. Rucker—Eleanor.”
Maria smiled. “If she were standing here with us now, she’d insist that you call her Ellie. Everyone did.”
“Then Ellie it is.” Amy returned the woman’s smile.
“What about her?”
“I…uh…spotted some old photographs and was curious about something. Hold on a minute.” Amy turned and hurried to the mantel, snagged the picture of the soldier and the girl, and returned to the open doorway. “Do you know who these people are?”
Maria took the frame, glanced at the images, and nodded. “That’s Ellie and her husband, Harold. I never met him. He died during World War Two, but he was the love of her life. That photo has been on her mantel ever since I can remember. There’s another one like it near her bed.”
“Didn’t she ever remarry?” Amy asked, unsure why it seemed to matter.
“Yes, but only briefly. From what I understand, the marriage was a big mistake. She never talked to me about him, but I remember my aunt saying that he wasn’t good to her.”
“That’s too bad.”
“You mean that her second husband was a jerk?” Maria asked, handing back the frame.
“Oh, no.” Amy straightened. “That she lost the love of her life in the war, that she never met anyone else who could take his place.”
Maria smiled. “You sound like a romantic.”
“I always used to be.”
“So did I, but my ex-husband took care of dimming my rose-colored glasses.”
Amy’s ex had done the same thing, but she hoped to find someone new someday, someone who valued his wife and child.
“Well,” Maria said. “I really need to get home. Let me know when Callie gets here. I’ll bring Sara by to meet her.”
Amy nodded, although she couldn’t do that.
How could she ask a child to help perpetuate the lie her mother had created?
Chapter 3
As Maria walked down the cracked, leaf-riddled sidewalk that led from Ellie’s porch to the street, a sense of sadness slowed her steps. There was a part of her that hated to leave the house in the hands of a stranger, yet she had to admit that Amy seemed nice enough.
As she reached the picket fence that surrounded Ellie’s yard, she passed through the gate that had completely broken off its hinges, turned to her right at the street, and continued home.
Before she reached the property line that separated her house from Ellie’s, a white pickup pulled up and parked along the curb. The bed of the truck, she noted, was filled with a lawnmower and other gardening tools. And a green logo on the passenger door read GONZALES LANDSCAPING.
Maria didn’t give the vehicle’s arrival much thought until the driver, a dark-haired man in his twenties, climbed from the cab, leaving a brown, shaggy dog in the front seat. The dog barked, but it wasn’t the animal that piqued her interest; it was the handsome driver with an olive complexion, a square-cut jaw, and a rugged build.
Normally, she kept her eyes averted from men, particularly those who were young and attractive. It was easier that way.
Her marriage hadn’t been happy, and she was unwilling to put herself in the position of repeating the same mistake. But she couldn’t help risking a second glance at the brawny man who stood about six foot two.
When he tossed her a grin, her brains turned to mush—her bones and joints, too. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t return the friendly gesture.
Or maybe she inadvertently had, since he continued toward her.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Do you live here?”
Yes. No.
It was a simple question with a simpler answer, but for some reason, her words failed to form.
As their gazes met and locked, a swarm of butterflies rose up in her stomach. You’d think she’d never come face-to-face with an attractive man before, although she had to admit, this was the first time she’d ever been attracted to anyone other than her ex-husband. Ray’s lies and betrayal had scarred her for good—at least, that’s what she’d told herself.
The gardener nodded toward Ellie’s house, and Maria’s brain finally rallied.
“No, I live in the blue house.” She pointed to hers just as the front door swung open.
“Mom!” Danny shouted from the porch.
She turned to her son, glad for the distraction, even if it meant trouble inside.
“Ellie’s out in the backyard again,” the unsmiling boy announced, “and she’s calling for some guy named Harold.”
“I…uh.” Maria glanced at the landscaper. “I have to go.”
“I can see that.” His smile broadened, revealing a single dimple that could only mean bad news to any woman who found it charming.
What was with her inability to break eye contact, to move on?
“Our company is going to be doing some landscaping on the street,” he added. “So if you’re interested in getting a bid for your yard”—he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a business card—“we’ll give you or any of the other neighbors a ten-percent discount.”
She couldn’t afford a landscaper, no matter what kind of deal he gave her, yet she took his card anyway, fingered the embossed lettering.
“Mom!” Danny yelled again, this time louder and more insistent.
“I’m coming.” Her words gave the proper response, but her feet seemed to be uncooperative.
“Keep us in mind,” he said.
She nodded, afraid she’d be keeping the landscaper in mind longer than she ought to, and forced herself to head back to the house.
Shake it off, she told herself as she reached her front porch.
Danny stepped aside to allow her in.
Still, for some crazy reason, just as she started past the threshold, she stole one last peek over her shoulder, only to see that the landscaper hadn’t moved either, that his eyes were still on her.
Amy had no more than returned the photograph of Ellie and Harold back to the mantel and started back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Had Maria had a change of heart about the tea?
Oddly enough, Amy hoped so. She returned to the living room and answered the door only to find a tall, dark-haired man on the stoop. He appeared to be Latino, with soft brown eyes and a shy smile.
“Mrs. Masterson?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m Eddie with Gonzales Landscaping. I was asked to come by and look at the yard so that we can give the owner an estimate for cleaning things up around here.”
“Oh, good.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her