by Arlene James
“Oh, do say you’ll come,” Odelia pressed.
“Hunter will be fine here,” Garrett said. “The house is filled with adults, after all.”
She faced him, and for an instant, their gazes held as if neither could quite look away. Finally, Hypatia said, “We’ll pay you, of course.”
Jessa jerked around. “That won’t be necessary. I’m not a fashion consultant.”
“You’ll go, then!” Ellie crowed, engulfing her in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
What could Jessa say except, “I look forward to it.”
And she did. She really did. Especially, she told herself, since Garrett Willows would not be part of the company. Hunter would be safe and content here with Carol. They could play board games and watch TV, maybe take a walk around the estate.
“Now I really have to get running,” Ellie exclaimed. “I don’t want to be wearing tonight’s dinner when I try on dresses tomorrow!”
“About the flowers,” Jessa said before Ellie could step away.
Ellie turned back to the table and separated out three drawings. “These are my favorites. I’m thinking these two at the church—multiples of these two—and this one for the reception.”
“All right,” Jessa said. “We’ll talk bouquets and boutonnières after you have the dress.”
Laughing, Ellie ran out of the room. “See you all in the morning!”
Magnolia and Hypatia traded looks. Then Hypatia shared a conspiratorial smile with Jessa.
“Thank goodness,” she said, leaning forward and pitching her voice low. “Magnolia and I feared we’d be outnumbered with two brides and our niece Dallas along. You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s really a dear girl, but, um…”
“She’s named after our sister,” Magnolia said pointedly. “Dallas Odelia Chatam.”
Jessa bit her lip to hide her own smile, knowing exactly what the older woman meant. As if to underscore it, Odelia sighed, turned in a circle with the drawing she’d fixed on earlier in her hands.
“Just imagine!” she trilled. Then she stopped and gave Jessa a wide-eyed look. “Magnolias are large. Maybe I should wear a crown of magnolias in my hair. What do you think?”
Behind her, Garrett made a choking sound. Jessa managed to swallow her own laughter and stammer, “Well, I—I think it would depend on the v-veil.”
“Oh. Of course.” She wandered toward the door with the drawing, murmuring, “I need to add that to my list.”
Garrett snagged the drawing as she drifted out of the room. She sent him a vacant smile and went on her way. Hypatia and Magnolia followed, shaking their heads and whispering together. Chuckling, Garrett carried the drawing to the table. Jessa added it to the stack that she was gathering.
“Told you that Ellie would love your ideas,” he said unabashedly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Jessa nodded, almost painfully aware of him. “You know,” he drawled, “I’ve paid you several compliments. Would it kill you to say thanks?”
Jessa felt heat rush into her face. Why couldn’t she seem to remember even the most basic etiquette when she was around this man?
“You’re right. I apologize.”
“Don’t need an apology,” he said.
“Then, thank you. For complimenting my designs. A-and for earlier with Hunter.”
He pulled his hands from his pockets and loosely folded his arms. “You mean for stating the obvious, that he’s a good kid?”
“No. Well, yes. But mostly for not…” She shook her head, realizing suddenly what she’d been about to reveal.
“Not?” he prodded.
She ignored the prompt, saying, “He won’t bother you again. I’ll see to it that he stays out of the greenhouse.”
Garrett frowned, studying her like a bug under a microscope. “I told you that I don’t mind him being in there.”
“But he broke the pot.”
“He’ll be more careful next time.”
“No,” she said, stepping back, “it’s best if he stays away.”
“I don’t see why,” Garrett argued conversationally, stepping forward. “I like having him around, and I think he likes me well enough.”
“That’s why,” she snapped, feeling crowded. “That is, I—I don’t think it’s healthy for him to form attachments that can only be temporary.”
“Why should it be temporary?” Garrett asked, folding his arms, which drew attention to the breadth of his shoulders. “Granted, we won’t always be living in such close proximity,” he went on, “but the Chatams are not the kind who let go of friendships easily, and I sure don’t have so many friends that I wouldn’t welcome a couple more.”
Jessa stepped around him and went to pick up the rest of the sketches from the table. “What makes you think that we’ll be staying in Buffalo Creek after we leave here?”
“You’re no longer interested in the Monroe place?”
She whirled around. “Of course, I am! But we both know it’s going to you.”
He tilted his head. “What makes you think so?”
Jessa lifted her chin and told him. “Magnolia. She’s like a mother bear with her cub when it comes to you.”
A wry smile curved his lips, and he shook his head. “I’m no cub, Jessa. I’m a full-grown man. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m fond of that old girl, and she’s good to me. She’s treated me better than anyone in my life. But she doesn’t have authority over anything that has to do with me, and that includes the Monroe Place.”
“What are you saying?”
He stayed silent, then finally answered, “We don’t know what the future holds. All we can do is wait and see.”
She couldn’t argue with that, so she simply nodded as he turned and moved toward the door. Sighing, she slipped the drawings back into the sketchpad to protect them. But how, she wondered, was she going to protect herself and her son? Garrett talked of friendship, but she didn’t know how to be friends with men like him or with people who lived like this. Glancing around the room, she admired the rich decor, but all she really wanted was a safe place to work and raise her son.
How safe could they be, she asked herself, with Garrett around, tempting them to trust. Tempting her to hope. Tempting her to care.
Turning the vase slowly, Garrett tried to see with Magnolia’s eyes. She had come to the greenhouse early to arrange the parlor flowers before the big shopping expedition. She had a deft hand with this sort of thing and took great satisfaction in not only arranging but growing the flowers that she used. Still, she could learn a thing or two from Jessa, and she knew it.
“I can be of help with the wedding flowers, don’t you think?” Mags asked, poking stems into holes that only she could see.
“Of course, you can,” he answered heartily. “I’m sure Jessa would welcome your assistance.”
“So, just how much do you like Jessa?”
He had to struggle not to show his surprise and discomfort. He should have known that Magnolia would notice the undercurrent between him and the lovely Ms. Pagett, but he hadn’t been prepared for her bald-faced question.
“I like her fine. She’s bit a skittish, a little too private, even a little prickly, but she’s a good mother and a top-notch florist, judging by her designs.”
“I think she’s hiding from someone.”
He dropped a pair of garden shears, shocked that Magnolia had figured that out. Thankfully, it gave him an excuse to stoop and hide his face from her.
“Oh? What makes you say that?”
“Lots of little things. Don’t pretend you haven’t noticed them.”
He sighed mentally, and met frankness with frankness. “I think the boy’s been abused somehow.”
Mags worked for
several moments, plucking droopy petals here and there before saying sadly, “That would explain why Hunter is so docile.”
“More like frightened,” Garrett corrected.
Hunter had even been frightened of him, and so had his mother. They still were, to some extent. The thought made Garrett’s chest tighten.
Magnolia stepped back and wiped her hands on the apron that she wore over her ubiquitous shirtwaist. “I have to run. The girls will be ready to leave. Could you tidy up here and put these in the parlor for me?”
“Of course.”
She patted his cheek and hurried out. He spent some time cleaning the workbench. The better part of an hour passed before Garrett carried the enormous flower arrangement into the house. As he passed through the foyer, he saw the boy sitting glumly on the bottom step of the staircase.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
He walked on. After placing the flower arrangement, he returned to find the boy right where he’d left him.
“What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the newel post.
“Nothin’,” came the gloomy answer.
“Waiting for your mom?”
Hunter nodded.
“Could be some time before she returns, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, where’s Carol?”
“Kitchen. For a ’mergency.”
“I see. Wait here a minute, okay?”
Hunter nodded again. Garrett walked down the hall and pushed open the kitchen door. Hilda and Carol were on their knees mopping up something red from the floor.
“Don’t come in!” Hilda ordered. “I dropped an open gallon can of tomato sauce.”
“I’ll just take Hunter along with me, then,” Garrett volunteered.
“He won’t be any trouble,” Carol told him gratefully.
“Yes, I know,” Garrett said, leaving them to it.
He returned to Hunter and, as he’d seen Jessa do several times, reached down an open hand. The boy stared at that hand, not quite sure of it.
“Want to help me trim some topiaries?” Garrett asked. Hunter just looked at him. “Want to watch me trim some topiaries? You don’t have to do anything, but it’ll be better than sitting here staring at the door.” Still the kid hesitated. “I’d like you to come. I like having a boy around, and you can come back to the house anytime you want.”
Slowly, Hunter reached up and slid his hand into Garrett’s. Smiling, Garrett tugged him to his feet and led him through the house. Now, if he could just figure out how to get Jessa to take the other hand, he thought to himself, he could relax.
Except thoughts of Jessa invariably made his heart beat a little faster. He’d always found her attractive, from the very instant that he’d caught her in his arms, but the world was full of attractive women who didn’t make him eagerly look forward to seeing them, getting to know them, even irritating them a little just to see them fight back.
He smiled to himself, wondering how she fared that morning. Shopping with the Chatam sisters had to be a hair-raising experience. Add Ellie and Dallas to the equation, and Garrett shuddered to think of it. Something told him, though, that Jessa could hold her own, and if she could do that then she just might enjoy herself. He hoped so, and not just for her sake. He, after all, had encouraged her to go along on the outing. If it didn’t work out well, she was not going to be happy with him. The idea made his chest tighten again.
He shook his head.
How much did he like Jessa Lynn Pagett? More and more as time went by.
Chapter Six
Settling onto an armless, pink satin-covered chair with a heart-shaped seat and back, Jessa laid her sketchpad across her lap, covering a tiny pull in the fabric of her only pair of dress slacks, which she’d worn with a pale green blouse today. She felt colorless and shabby next to lush Ellie and red-headed Dallas, Asher’s sister and a niece of the Chatams, but Jessa liked each of them a great deal. She felt a growing fondness for the Chatams, too.
Odelia could barely contain her enthusiasm, wiggling like a puppy expecting a treat. Hypatia, however, lent decorum to the proceedings. No pawing through crowded clothing racks for her. She had called ahead to several select Dallas shops and arranged private viewings. Magnolia brought her sturdy common sense to the proceedings, curbing Odelia’s exuberance and Hypatia’s overly formal demeanor.
They had been driven into Dallas in the Chatams’ car by Chester, and the fawning had begun the moment that they’d walked through the door of the first shop. The shrewd proprietor had immediately sized up the group and picked out Ellie as the bride. Hypatia took it upon herself to introduce Odelia as the other bride. The proprietor, a tall, slender middle-age woman with a sleek dark chignon, never blinked an eye.
“How thrilling! Two brides in one party. Right this way, ladies.” She’d placed them in pink satin chairs and whisked the brides away.
The fashion show began with Ellie, who tried on every dress in the building. Jessa was astonished that, amidst all the chatter, her quiet suggestions seemed to carry great weight. When she expressed her personal opinion that the mermaid silhouette and bateau neckline suited Ellie best, the others agreed.
“Jessa’s right,” Ellie decided, twisting this way and that in front of the mirrors. She now knew what she was looking for, but she did not, unfortunately, find the gown.
Odelia’s choices were more limited, but she was thrilled to try them on. None caught her fancy, and Jessa was reluctant to give an opinion unless directly asked.
They had better luck at the second shop, where Ellie had the management hold a stunning gown for her. It was decorated with silvery gray embroidery on the bottom of the chiffon skirt and the long train, which fell from the shoulders, but the skimpy matching veil simply did not suit Ellie.
They moved on to a third and a fourth shop, where Odelia found her perfect gown, a lace-over-satin column dress that somehow managed to be both tasteful and flamboyant, thanks to an enormous organza-and-lace flower on one shoulder. In the fifth and final shop, Ellie found a long, sheer organza veil that she liked.
“What if we added silver embroidery to the edge of the veil?” Jessa suggested. “Then it would match the gown. We could anchor it with a ring of rosebuds.” Ellie was delighted with the idea, so Jessa quickly sketched the pattern for the shop seamstress, who promised to have the embroidery done within forty-eight hours.
Ellie hugged Jessa, exclaiming, “You’re a godsend!”
Jessa blinked back tears. No one had ever said that to her before.
To celebrate the successful shopping trip, Hypatia insisted on treating everyone to refreshments at a tearoom in an exclusive hotel. Jessa’s self-consciousness returned with a vengeance, but she did enjoy the lavish high tea with its beautiful little finger sandwiches to go along with a delicious tea blend. They chattered and laughed. Jessa couldn’t remember having such fun. Even her discomfort over Hypatia’s insistence on saying a very public prayer of thanksgiving did not dim her enjoyment of the day. It helped that everyone gushed over her designs for the bridal bouquets, but Magnolia did have a worry.
“Where are we going to get pale lilac roses and silver filigree ribbon?”
Jessa shrugged. “I’ll arrange to visit the local wholesalers. I’m sure we can order what we need.”
“Why arrange a second trip into the city?” Hypatia wanted to know. “Let’s just go there now.”
Off to the flower markets they went. Jessa came away astonished at what the Chatam sisters ordered. In addition to the flowers, they insisted on purchasing every other material she would need to create the bouquets: stem wires and tape, fixatives and spacers, protective papers and storage boxes, ribbons, holders… When Jessa argued that she could pick up smaller quantities
of the materials in retail shops, Magnolia just patted her hand and said, “Oh, but you can use the leftovers in your business, can’t you?”
Jessa wanted to ask if that meant she would get the Monroe place, but she thought of Garrett and his greenhouse, and the words dissolved on her tongue. What, after all, made her any more deserving of the Monroe place than him? She simply nodded and managed a smile. The next moment, she silently scolded herself.
Garrett Willows could take care of himself. With the backing of the preeminent family in the area, he could find another place, an even better one. Her only connection was a retired schoolteacher who had been a good friend to her late mother and knew Ellie Monroe. Why, oh, why hadn’t she spoken up and pressed her advantage? What was wrong with her? She should not have lost sight of what was best for her and her son just because Garrett was handsome and charming.
She’d known that man was going to be trouble. She didn’t realize how much trouble, though, until their happy party returned to Chatam House.
After looking for Hunter in their suite, she went to the kitchen—and found Carol having a leisurely cup of tea at the table with her sister.
“Hunter?” she echoed in reply to Jessa’s question concerning the whereabouts of her son. “Oh, he’s fine. He’s somewhere with Garrett.”
Somewhere? With Garrett! Jessa headed for the greenhouse. She knew that she was overreacting, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. What might that man have done to her son while she was gone? Why hadn’t she done a better job of protecting Hunter? She had vowed never to leave her child at risk again, but the Chatams had beckoned, and off she’d gone as if she didn’t have a care in the world!
To her horror, the greenhouse was empty, as was the side yard. Jessa returned to the house on the verge of panic. She went straight to the front parlor and pushed open the pocket doors. Her fear turned to knee-weakening relief when Magnolia smiled and said, “Why, they’re raking the gravel beneath the porte cochere at the side of the house, dear, or so Chester says.”
Jessa let out a pent-up breath, murmured her thanks and turned away. By the time she found her way through the house to the side entrance, however, relief had morphed into blazing anger.
