When Cade saw her, he smiled and headed for a table for two. She smiled back and approached him, noticing how well his charcoal suit fit his broad shoulders. His long legs stretched out under the table as if he could finally relax after a long day.
He often stopped in for a snack and a respite before going back to his agency’s office for the night. She knew he worked long hours. What self-employed person didn’t?
She could let Cora Sue, the middle-aged bottle redhead with a bubbly personality, serve him. However, she signaled to Cora Sue that she’d take care of their latest tea connoisseur. As she neared his table, his gaze swept over her royal blue sweater and slacks, the yellow apron with the daisy emblem for Daisy’s Tea Garden stamped on the front. Cade ran his hand through his dark brown hair, putting it in some order after the wind had disturbed it.
He glanced around, noticing tables with other customers sampling Daisy’s baked goods. “You’re busy. A cup of hot tea hits the spot at the end of a day.”
“If I remember correctly,” she teased, “when we first opened the tea garden, you didn’t know black tea from white tea, or what a tisane was.”
“And you’ve educated me,” he responded. “I’ve become a tea lover. How about orange pekoe today?”
“Coming right up. We have fresh-baked lemon tea cakes too.”
“Three of those,” he said with a smile. “On second thought, make that six to go. For a change, I’m headed home at a reasonable hour.”
“Satisfying day?”
“Yes, it was. House sales have picked up. I have two new listings and closed on another. How about you? Satisfying day?”
“Steadily busy with lots of tourists out on a drive, enjoying the fall weather and the countryside. We do have beautiful scenery in Pennsylvania.”
“Yes, we do. Did you miss it when you left?”
“I did. I didn’t realize until I moved back here that Florida never really felt like home, not in the way Willow Creek does. Maybe it was the lizards and alligators. I prefer squirrels and fox and deer.”
He laughed. “Or two feet of snow in the winter.”
“Only some winters,” she joked.
She heard her aunt laugh again. Harvey did that for Iris, and maybe Daisy was being too protective of her aunt, the same way she was protective of Violet and Jazzi?
As she thought of her older daughter, her heart hurt a little. Vi was making her way through the maze of classes and friendships at Lehigh University. Daisy missed her. And Jazzi—she was growing up too. It was hard to believe three years had passed since Ryan died. Maybe there was a more substantial way for Daisy to move on besides checking her daily balance sheets at the Tea Garden.
She could fetch Cade that pot of orange pekoe tea and his lemon tea cakes or . . .
“If you have the evening free,” she began and then stopped. Her mouth suddenly went dry. Still, she plunged ahead. “I started stew in the slow cooker this morning before I left. How would you like to come home with Jazzi and me and have a home-cooked meal?”
Cade’s brown eyes didn’t waver from her blue ones. “You’ve just made my day.”
His expression told her there could be more than friendship on his mind. Had she just made a mistake?
* * *
Daisy’s house was different than most—it once had been a barn!
She parked on the gravel in front of the building that had once been an equipment shed. Now it served as a detached two-car garage. Cade pulled up beside her. They’d agreed to meet there at seven fifteen and he was right on time.
“How come you asked him to dinner?” Jazzi asked from the passenger seat, curiosity in her voice.
Daisy switched off the ignition to her purple PT Cruiser and gave her daughter her full attention. “I’ve known Cade for years. He went out of his way to negotiate the best deal for the barn and for the tea garden property. Asking him tonight was just an impulsive decision. Do you mind?”
Jazzi gave her a one-shouldered teenage shrug. “I guess not. I have friends over. You can have friends over. I just wondered if you’re . . . forgetting about Dad.”
Daisy reached out and put her hand on Jazzi’s arm. “I will never forget about your dad. I promise.” This particular subject had never come up between her and her daughters. She was glad Jazzi felt so deeply about her father. Where Violet was born from Daisy’s womb, Jazzi was adopted. She and Ryan had worked hard to make sure Jazzi knew she was a child of their hearts as much as Violet was.
Jazzi pulled away, unfastened her seat belt, and opened her car door. “I’m not going to hang with you guys anyway. I have a paper due in a few days.”
She was out of the car before Daisy could take another breath. Just what was going on with her? Fifteen-year-old angst? Or something else?
As Cade joined Daisy and walked with her up the path leading to the house, he glanced up at the multipaned window that had once been a hay hatch where hay bales had been hauled into the barn and out. A smaller window above that one let light into the attic space. A floodlight at the peak of the roof had gone on with dusk, and Daisy could catch a glimpse of the blue plaid curtain that draped the window in Jazzi’s room. The second floor was divided into two bedrooms with a bath and had suited her daughters perfectly. Jazzi had chosen whitewashed furniture as well as a spread that was blue trimmed in white. Violet’s room, however, was less country and more contemporary, with sleek-lined walnut furniture. The drapes and spread were hues of green.
“You know,” Cade said, “I couldn’t envision this the way you did. I can’t wait to see the inside.”
Cade had witnessed the outside makeover, with its barn-red siding and repointed and cleaned stone base. White trimmed the windows as well as the dormers. But he hadn’t seen the structural changes inside. Ryan’s insurance money had made this new life in Willow Creek possible. She’d always be grateful for that.
“You can have the five-cent tour. Anyone who comes to dinner gets it.”
Jazzi had her own key. She’d already unlocked the wide, white front door and punched in the code to switch off the security alarm.
As soon as Cade stepped inside the barn house, he whistled. “Wow! You should do this for a living.”
“Decorate barns?” she asked with some amusement.
“No, buy them and redesign them.”
He was staring at the open stairway to the rear of the living room. A huge wagon-wheel chandelier lit up the area that was open to a dining area and kitchen. A floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace was a focal point on the east wall.
“Come on,” Daisy said. Leading Cade into the kitchen area, she motioned down a short hall. “My room’s down here.”
Cade went down the hall, and Daisy knew he could see the sleigh bed.
“A Sunshine and Shadow quilt,” he said when he returned to the kitchen.
“It’s my mom’s favorite design. When I saw it in a shop in Bird in Hand, I couldn’t resist it. I put one of those bowl sinks in the powder room and my bathroom to add a country touch.”
“The antique pine furniture does that too.” Cade admiringly shook his head again. “You did this all yourself?”
“I did it with the help of Mom and Iris and the girls. It was a joint project. I especially wanted Vi and Jazzi involved so it would feel like home to them.”
In the living room once more, Daisy tried to see the entire space through Cade’s eyes. The furniture was all upholstered in blue, green, and cream. The braided blue and rust rugs had been woven by a local Amish woman.
Jazzi had run upstairs to her bedroom to drop her backpack. Daisy smiled when she noticed her two cats, who had started down the stairs. Was Cade an animal person?
“Are you going to introduce me to the rest of the family?” he asked Daisy, pointing to the stairway.
The cats apparently sensed another friendly human because they descended the rest of the stairs. Daisy motioned to Marjoram, who was a tortoiseshell with unmistakably unique markings. One side of her face was
mottled like a tortoiseshell in tan, brown, and black. The other side was completely dark brown. Various colors, including orange and cream, spotted her back and flanks while her chest was a creamy tan and rust.
“This is Marjoram,” Daisy said as she scooped up the cat and cuddled her against her body. The other feline, black with white fluffy spots on her chest, crossed to Cade, sat on his shoe, looked up at him and gave a small meow.
“That’s Pepper,” Daisy added with a smile.
“How old are they?” Cade asked.
“Probably about eighteen months. We found them last fall in the garden, hence their names Marjoram and Pepper.” After another cuddle—the tortie couldn’t abide cuddling for long—Daisy let Marjoram down to the floor. “Another cup of tea before I put supper on the table?” she asked.
Pepper moved from Cade’s shoe, walked a circle around his legs, then crossed to a deacon’s bench under a window and settled on an afghan there.
“What kind do you have?” Cade asked.
“I have an Assam that I like. It’s a black tea from India.”
“If you brew the tea, you have to give me something to do.”
“Guests don’t have chores in the kitchen,” she told him as Marjoram joined her sister on the bench.
“Consider it a contribution,” he said. “What can I do? Really.”
“You can toss the salad. I’ll warm up the bread.”
They worked companionably together as Daisy brewed tea, popped the bread in the oven, and watched Cade slice the carrots at the island. She pulled a basket from one of the knotty pine cupboards and lined it with a napkin, preparing it for the warmed bread. It had been over three years since she’d worked beside a man in the kitchen. Ryan’s cancer had taken him so fast, they’d hardly had time to say good-bye. Not nearly enough time. But she shouldn’t be thinking about loss now, not if she wanted to move on.
“I really appreciate this. Home-cooked meals are hard to come by,” Cade said as he set the salad bowl on the table.
The round pedestal table was oak with a distressed wood finish. The chairs were antiques that she’d found at the flea market and refinished herself. All of it had been part of rehabilitation, grieving, and starting over. For the most part, it had worked.
“Are you saying you live on my scones?” she joked. A former dietician, she was aware of eating habits, both good and bad. When Cade did stop in at the tea garden, he usually bought a dozen scones. He’d told her that he often froze them and pulled them out when he needed them.
“Of course, I don’t just live on your scones,” he answered, faking injured pride. “I can fry burgers and cook an omelet.”
When Daisy looked at Cade, she saw the man he’d become, but she also remembered the boy he’d been. “Why haven’t you ever married?”
He shrugged. “Maybe after our prom date, no other woman could compare to you.”
His explanation stunned her for a moment, and before she could decide whether he was serious or not, her cell phone rang. It wasn’t exactly a ring; it was a sound like a tuba bellowing.
Cade’s eyebrows arched.
“It’s the only ringtone I can hear when I’m in the tea garden with customers.” She saw her Aunt Iris was calling. “It’s Aunt Iris. Excuse me for a minute?”
He nodded. “I’ll take the bread from the oven.”
Daisy moved into the living room and answered the call. “Hi, what’s up?” Maybe Harvey wanted to change their plans for tomorrow afternoon in his store. Maybe he wanted her to bring a particular tea.
“Harvey just left.”
“You’re still at the tea garden?”
“We were talking,” her aunt said defensively, and Daisy knew she’d better back off with any disapproval she might be feeling.
“Were you talking about tea at his shop tomorrow or the party on Sunday?”
“Both. He finalized everything he wants served for afternoon tea service on Sunday. But that isn’t why I’m calling.”
Daisy waited.
“Harvey left because he received a phone call from his lawyer. It’s about the divorce settlement.”
“I thought all that was finalized.”
“He did too. But apparently Monica made new demands, or else changed her mind about something they’d already agreed on. He didn’t go into detail. He said he had to leave and take care of it. He didn’t want anything to hold it up. I think he was going to see his lawyer . . . or maybe even Monica. He didn’t say, exactly.”
Daisy could hear the worry in her aunt’s voice and the fear that maybe dreams she was beginning to weave weren’t going to come true.
“Aunt Iris, what would you say if I told you I was dating a man who wasn’t divorced yet?”
Iris was silent for a few moments, but then she said, “I’d tell you to be very careful. I’d tell you to keep your eyes wide open and listen to your sixth sense.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“I am. Harvey Fitz is one of the special ones. He’s worth waiting for.”
Daisy wasn’t sure of that. She wasn’t sure of that at all.
Slay Bells Ring Page 26
