Second Chance Match. Arlene James

the balding, portly old gent, making a beeline for Ellie.

       Garrett trailed her, arriving in time to hear Ellie say, “I think you’re right. I’m sure she’ll be a great help. Frankly, I’m a little concerned about the boy, though.”

       “What about the boy?” Garrett couldn’t help asking.

       “Well, Jessa’s homeschooling,” Ellie said, “and while I’m not against homeschooling on principle, I do wonder if Hunter is being socialized enough. He seems unusually timid and quiet.”

       Given Ellie’s occupation as a kindergarten teacher, Garrett wasn’t surprised at her conclusion. He’d made a similar judgment himself earlier, but something compelled him to defend the boy.

       “That might not have anything to do with his schooling. He could just be naturally shy.”

       “That’s true,” Ellie conceded, “but he would still need large-group experience to help him overcome his natural tendency to fade into the background.”

       “Couldn’t he get that, say, at church?” Garrett pressed.

       “Possibly.”

       “He’s certainly well-mannered,” Magnolia observed, “but he does stick close to his mother. You don’t suppose he was bullied in the past, do you? I’ve heard of that happening to quiet children.”

      Bullied, Garrett thought, his heart sinking, or, more likely, abused. He fervently hoped that was not the case, but he’d already recognized the signs. Maybe he’d find out the truth while he and Jessa worked on the flowers for the wedding.

       He certainly didn’t mind the idea of working with her. She seemed to have a good eye and even if her skills turned out to be only mediocre, they would be better than his or Magnolia’s when it came to bouquets and such. Besides, he didn’t exactly find her repulsive. Prickly, yes, but somehow that only added to her appeal. That didn’t really explain why he’d kept his mouth shut about backing out of his deal with Kent, though.

       He’d intended to do it, and Asher had clearly expected it of him or Jessa. In his defense, Garrett had been momentarily blindsided by Magnolia’s admission concerning the money. When they’d talked, Kent had detailed the kind of investment that would be expected in order to finalize the deal, but he hadn’t asked for the money then. Garrett had assumed that it would be expected at the signing of the papers. He’d never dreamed that Magnolia would take it upon herself to pay the funds herself. That reminded him why he was standing there.

       Tugging at her sleeve, he cleared his throat. “I need a word with you, please.”

       Ellie split an amused look between them. “I promised to spend a few minutes with Grandpa,” she said, pirouetting off in Kent’s direction. “You’d think we were never going to see each other again after I move into Asher’s house.”

       “Now, Garrett,” Magnolia began immediately.

       “It was very generous of you to give Kent cash out of your own account, but you know I can’t accept your money,” Garrett said.

       “I only wanted—”

       “I have money,” he went on firmly, “and I would have paid Kent what he needed when we signed the papers.”

       “But I have so much more than—”

       “It goes back into your account, Magnolia. Every penny.”

       “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” she grumbled.

       Grinning, he bent and smacked a kiss on her leathery cheek. “Why do you?”

       She folded her arms, fighting a smile. Garrett left her there, wondering yet again why he hadn’t just ended the whole debacle earlier by dropping his claim to the Charter Street site. As he hurried back to his duties, Garrett admitted the truth. He didn’t drop his claim because then Jessa Lynn Pagett and her too-quiet son would leave Chatam House for good. Before he knew them better. Before he knew her better. Before he knew the truth about them.

       Before he knew why he couldn’t stop thinking about her or looking forward to their next encounter.

       Garrett stayed busy that evening. He ignored Magnolia’s summons to the dinner table, knowing that if he let her turn him up sweet now, she’d harass him about accepting her money. Instead, he made a little space in the greenhouse by moving some of the topiaries outside to the patio, something he should have done a week or so earlier. After that, he gathered up all of the containers scattered around the building. After a late supper in the kitchen, he stopped by the family parlor in hopes of arranging to meet with Jessa and Magnolia the next day.

       Jessa was nowhere to be seen, however. She and Hunter had declined to join the family for dinner, too. Garrett told himself that they were not avoiding him, just still settling in, but then Hilda reported the next morning that not only had they elected to take dinner in their suite the night before, but also breakfast. Garrett nursed a secret emotional bruise while demolishing a bowl of Hilda’s grits with stewed pears, then headed out to the greenhouse to seek out every purple flower he could find and some ferns he’d had in mind.

       The instant he stepped through the door, he knew someone was there. Glancing around, he eased through the front space and into the next, slipping through the heavy plastic curtain. Surprised at whom he found there among the flowers, he took a moment to make certain that his voice remained calm and level.

       “Hello.”

       The boy whirled away from the rose bush to face Garrett, tension in every line of the small body inside his oversize clothes. “I didn’t touch it,” he said.

       “Okay.” Hunter’s hands trembled at his sides, so Garrett casually bent to shift a container and clear the pathway a bit. “It won’t hurt if you touch it, though. Just be careful you don’t get scratched by a thorn. That variety has some big ones.”

       “It does?”

       He heard the curiosity in the boy’s voice and smiled to himself. “Yeah, it does. Check it out.” Moving closer, Garrett carefully parted the heavy, rust-colored blossoms. “See? That’s a nasty thorn right there.”