Sparks Fly with Mr. Mayor

by Teresa Carpenter

  “Faith Marie,” Dani exclaimed, shocked. “You do not say butt.”

  “I didn’t say it Mommy, you did. The last time we went to the nursery. You said the man in the hat had a really nice—”

  “Stop,” Dani demanded. “You don’t get to say it again.” Her little girl loved to learn new words and repeat the forbidden; she’d wrap this conversation back on itself several times if Dani let her, sneaking the bad word in a couple of more times with creative flair.

  Dani knew exactly when she had made the fatal slip. In late summer they’d been at Sullivan’s Garden and Landscaping to pick up some potting soil and a few fall blooms. The place was huge, not only rows of plants, but fields, including a hillside of budding pumpkins and a pine forest of Christmas trees. Sullivan’s catered to both the home gardener and professionals.

  It had been hot that day and in the distance a man in a wide-brimmed hat had worked the pumpkin patch. He wore a sleeveless white tank, low-riding jeans and gardening gloves. Tanned and fit, his arms flexed with muscles as he labored. Her gaze had been drawn to him again and again. She especially enjoyed the back view when he bent or squatted to work the field.

  She didn’t remember admiring his backside out loud, but evidently she had. She did remember lingering over her choice of plants longer than necessary hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but he’d stayed on the hillside.

  Lord save her, she now knew she’d been ogling Cole Sullivan, which twisted her up in so many knots. How much easier her life had been when he was simply a fantasy in a pumpkin patch.

  His kiss haunted her. In those few minutes she’d felt alive again, as if life had meaning and purpose, as if she were young with a promising future. She’d longed to leap through the door and grab a hold of him with both arms.

  At the same time everything in her wanted to cling to the past, to the memory of the husband she’d loved and lost too soon. She couldn’t let him go, who else would keep him alive for Faith?

  With that thought she turned her attention back to her baby and tried to regain control of the situation.

  “Mommy shouldn’t have said that word either. Especially not when big ears could hear.” She tugged on tiny earlobes.

  Faith giggled and covered her ears. “I don’t have big ears.” She grinned at Dani. “You didn’t think I was hearing, but I was.”

  “Listening,” Dani automatically corrected her. “You were listening.”

  “What does lissening mean?”

  “Listening—” Dani emphasized the pronunciation— “means when you hear something, you’re paying attention.”

  “Yep, I was lissening,” she confirmed, plopping on her rear end to put on her shoes, pink Mary Janes with princess tiaras on the heels.

  “And you’re listening now, too, when Mommy is telling you not to say that word again, right?”

  “Yes, Mommy. Is this the right foot?” And that was that, life moved on. At least for Faith. And, of course, it wasn’t the right foot, Faith being a little dyslexic when it came to her feet.

  Soon they were loaded into the car, tooling along to Sullivan’s Garden and Landscaping.

  Thoughts of escaping to a commercial pumpkin lot in El Cajon or San Diego tempted Dani, but it smacked of cowardice. Because she wouldn’t be taking Faith to have fun in the big jumping balloon or to play the carnival games. No, she’d be fleeing the prospect of running into Cole.

  She hadn’t seen him to talk to since he’d kissed her on her doorstep a week ago. He’d stopped by her shop to see her, but she’d been out to the bank. He hadn’t left a message, and he hadn’t come back.

  She’d been totally and inappropriately disappointed she’d missed him. Which was exactly why she was avoiding him.

  But not today. She wanted Faith to have the organic experience of picking a pumpkin from a real pumpkin patch. The two of them spent a lot of time in their tiny yard, building a garden that was both beautiful to look at and fun to play in. Dani did most the work and Faith most of the playing, and that suited Dani just fine. She found peace in the garden and she loved to see the plants and flowers bloom and grow, knowing she created such beauty. Plus the sun and exercise were good for her and Faith.

  “Are we there yet?” a small voice demanded from the backseat.

  “Yep, but I almost don’t recognize the place.”

  As she pulled in to the parking lot, she saw the commercial lots had nothing on Cole. Complete with a jumping balloon in the shape of a yellow barn, Sullivan’s had been converted into an old-fashioned farm.

  Faith struggled to see out the window. “Wow, Mommy, there’s a jumper. And cows and ponies.” She hopped in her car seat. “Can I go in the jumper? Can I ride a pony?”

  “Those aren’t cows, they’re goats.” Dani parked and helped Faith from her seat. “Do you want your stroller?”

  “No, I want to walk. I want to see everything.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” Dani took her hand. “It looks like there’s a lot to see. Let’s wander around first, to see what’s here.”

  With Faith skipping at her side, Dani led them inside. It was like walking into a new world. Sawdust and straw littered the walkways. Scarecrows greeted them and pointed the way toward the back of the lot where plants had been replaced by a mini petting zoo and the big yellow bouncing barn. Refreshment booths and autumn and Halloween displays lined the path. Farther along, a hayride took people out to the pumpkin patch.

  Her gaze kept going up and, above the pumpkins, the hill rose another hundred feet to where a large house tucked into the surrounding pines sat at the top. With sprawling decks and a whole wall of windows reflecting the late-morning sun, Dani thought it probably had one of the best views in the whole valley.

  Tugging on her hand, Faith led Dani toward the petting zoo. “Can I pet the goats? Please.”

  “Oh, really?” Dani hid a grimace. She and goats, not the best of friends and she had the scar to prove it. For Faith, she’d bite the bullet, but maybe the girl could be distracted. “I thought you wanted to ride a pony.”

  “I want to do both.”

  Of course she did.

  “Well, now, how are two of my favorite ladies?” Cole appeared beside them. He traced a finger down Faith’s cheek. “Don’t you look pretty in pink?”

  “Cole!” She threw her arms around his knees. “I missed you.”

  With a chiding look at Dani, he bent to pick Faith up and give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve missed you, too. Are you going to go in and pet the animals? There are bunnies inside.”

  “Baby bunnies?” Faith asked in awe.

  He shared a grin with Dani, causing her heart to twist at how wonderful he was with her daughter. His gentleness and patience put Faith at ease. More, he encouraged her to explore her world and expand her mind.

  “Yep, baby bunnies. Would you like to pet them?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Her polite response made Dani proud. Her excited giggle made Dani sweat. She rubbed the scar on her left index finger and eyed the enclosure anxiously. She was going to have to face the goats.

  “Why don’t I take her to see the goats and bunnies while you get us some popcorn and lemonade?” Cole suggested.

  Surprised by the offer, she met his gaze. Understanding blended with an overt awareness and something else she didn’t recognize but warmed her insides. He’d noted her distress and offered an out.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she responded softly, feeling the world narrow to just them. Lord help her, she missed him as much as Faith did.

  “Purple looks good on you, and I like the skirt.” Holding her gaze, he reached out, fingering a loose strand of hair near her cheek. She felt the pull and wished for his touch. “You make a sexy gypsy.”

  “Then I’m right at home.” She made a show of looking around. “This is quite a party you have going on.”

  His gaze never left her. “Yeah, it’s fun. Good business, too, though it’s only evenings and weekend
s. There are booths where the kids can do crafts or paint a pumpkin, and there’s face painting. Faith will like that.”

  “Yeah, she will. I hope I brought enough money for all this.”

  “You’ll be fine. The booths, including the face painting, are free. The food vendors charge, but they’re all locals and they keep it reasonable. We just want everyone to have a good time.”

  She lifted an eyebrow at him. “A happy customer is more free with his money?”

  “So I’ve found. I love the holidays. It’s my busy time of year. Not only do we have the festivities here, but my landscape clients want their buildings and grounds decorated for the holidays.” Pride rang in every word he spoke and in the way he surveyed his land and business. “After Halloween we have a harvest festival with craft booths, and from Thanksgiving through the end of the year we switch to a winter theme. The pumpkin patch is turned into a snow hill and Marty brings the petting zoo back with reindeer.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  His animation, the pride in his expression, the way he made nature an adventure for his customers all told her he loved what he did.

  She nodded toward the far pumpkin patch. “I’ve seen you working the grounds out here.”

  His eyes lit up and his fingers flexed. “Every chance I get. I saw your rubber plant was doing better.”

  “Yes, much better. Thanks for the advice. I’m sorry I was out when you came by.” Jeez, lame maybe? But she couldn’t outright say she missed him. They were competitors after all. “Was there something you needed?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not dealing with that here. Not today.”

  Something to do with the election, then. Of course it would be. So why the instant letdown? Didn’t matter. She shook it off, agreeing with him. Not here, not today.

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Mommy, the bunnies!” An impatient Faith demanded their attention.

  “Right, baby. I’m sorry.” Time to man up.

  “Dani, really, I can handle this.” Cole offered again.

  She lifted her chin. So stupid to be afraid of a simple farm animal. “I don’t mind the bunnies,” she said.

  Trying hard not to appear a wuss in front of him, she almost missed the flash of resigned disappoint ment on Cole’s face. She’d given him such a hard time about spending time with Faith he didn’t think she trusted him with her daughter. Which wasn’t true at all.

  She knew to the very marrow of her bones he’d never intentionally hurt her baby.

  Faith broke their connection by placing a tiny palm on Cole’s cheek and turning his head toward her. “Can I ride the pony, too?”

  “One thing at a time, Faith Marie.” The ponies were separate from the petting zoo. “The ponies will wait until Mommy gets back.” Dani glanced at Cole and caught his look of surprise. “Be sure to take pictures.”

  “I will.” He grinned. “Come on, munchkin.” Setting Faith on her feet, he clasped her hand and led her toward the enclosure gate. “Has your mom ever told you how smart goats are? They’re smarter than mean old trolls.”

  “I know that story. Billy goats…” Faith’s chatter faded as the man at the gate waved them through.

  Dani waited for the fear to come. She’d let her daughter go off and have fun with Cole without thoroughly analyzing the pros and cons, without considering how it would affect tomorrow, next week and Faith’s teenage years.

  Slowly she turned and headed for popcorn and lemonade. Any minute regret and worry would rise to claim her, haunt her for not taking the time to make a proper decision.

  But wonder of wonders, she made it all the way to the snack booth and back without falling apart. She chose a bench that allowed her to see into the petting enclosure and sat.

  Eating popcorn and sipping lemonade, she watched Faith and Cole huddled over a soft bundle of white fur. He helped her hold the tiny bunny and pet it gently. Not always an easy chore with an over eager three-year-old. But with his gentle guidance, the bunny was as safe in her hands as she was in his.

  Sighing, she let the weight of the impulsive decision fade away. Maybe there was a lesson for her here—that even though she was alone and totally responsible for her daughter’s health and well-being, not every decision had to be a massive debate. Maybe sometimes she could just go with the moment.

  And trust in an unexpected ally.

  One thing for sure, there was a whole lot more to Cole Sullivan than a captivating smile and laid-back attitude. From the seriousness at christening classes to the vulnerable flashes of emotion she’d seen, and his pride and love in what he’d created here at Sullivan’s, she realized the charming facade he showed the world hid a depth of character most people never saw. He even had his family fooled, which was amazing considering how close they were.

  She’d have preferred to remain ignorant herself. She’d had a hard enough time resisting him when she’d thought him charming but shallow. As an honorable, responsible adult he’d be devastating.

  CHAPTER SIX

  COLE PULLED his Ford 150 pickup into one of the few subdivisions in Paradise Pines. He didn’t care for the sameness of the homes, the sense of being one of many. But no doubt more would follow; few could afford to build on their own these days.

  He found his destination and parked under the shade of an old oak tree. Climbing from the truck, he admired the view.

  What a lovely picture mother and child made fussing in their small front yard. Faith pranced around in black pants and tiny black boots, her long-sleeved sweater in trademark pink, and two pink polka-dot ribbons tamed her dark hair into ponytails. In contrast her mother wore a faded University of Phoenix sweater shirt and torn jeans. A piece of the same polka-dot ribbon attempted—and failed—to contain the mass of sleek auburn tresses. Beautiful, both of them.

  When he reached the driveway, and picket fence, he came to a dead stop, his heart stuttering as he viewed the yard in the full light of day. Here was a surprise and an unexpected delight. She’d created a garden fit for a princess.

  Borders of verbena in waves of lavender to deep purple framed a lawn still green and lush for this late in the year. Slate pavers led the way to the corner away from the driveway and the shade of the house to a water fountain topped by a fairy happily gurgling amidst gladioli, towering black-eyed Susans, and some hearty and cheerful dahlias. Between the house and the water feature, a bougainvillea bower sheltered a patio swing.

  Lovely, fanciful and full of color, perfect for a three-year-old. And for Dani it was an obvious labor of love.

  Now he understood Gram’s question. He did admire a woman who knew her way around a garden.

  “There, how does that look?” Dani adjusted the medium-size pumpkin on the porch a smidge to the left. She looked over her shoulder at Faith. “What do you think?”

  Faith jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “We got the bestest pumpkins ever.”

  “The best,” Dani corrected as she stood back and surveyed the results of their efforts.

  “Yep, the bestest.”

  Dani laughed, wrapped her arms around her baby and kissed the top of her head. Then she admired their work. They stood in the small yard facing the shallow porch that ran half the length of the house.

  On the ground and first step were seven apple-size pumpkins with rosy cheeks, big red noses and soft felt caps. On the porch the medium-size pumpkin also had rosy cheeks, a smaller nose formed by the pumpkin itself, and wore a black wig, banded in red. Around the base was a high white collar. Eight pumpkins in all.

  “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, not your usual Halloween jack-o’-lantern, but effective,” he drawled.

  “Cole!” Faith broke free and ran toward him.

  He reached over the picket fence and snatched her into his arms.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, all smiles.

  “Good question.” Dani strolled over to release the catch on the gate.

  He shifted Faith to pull an envelope
from a pocket in his black leather jacket. “Pictures from Saturday.”

  “Right. Come on in.” She waved at the pumpkins. “You like the pumpkins?”

  “Original. I see you used paint instead of carving.”

  “I got the idea from one of the craft booths at Sullivan’s on Saturday. A paintbrush is a lot less dangerous than a knife when working with a three-year-old.” She held out her hand. “Can I see the pictures?”

  “Sure.” He handed them over.

  “We’re having a picnic in the yard,” Faith said from her perch in Cole’s arms. “You want to picnic, too?”

  “Oh, well.” He looked at Dani. “Don’t you think we should ask your mom first?”

  A small frown pulled her little brows together. “She might say no.”

  He arched an eyebrow at Dani.

  She stood, hands on her hips, surveying the two of them. A soft blush colored her cheeks, but was it due to pleasure, annoyance, or just the chill in the air?

  He waited, realizing he’d hoped for such an invitation. But he didn’t flirt, didn’t flash his crooked grin—it just felt wrong. He couldn’t be casual with these two; they’d lost too much, known too much hurt for a carefree relationship.

  Dani deserved respect, Faith protection. Actually they deserved a whole lot more. And for the first time, he wasn’t running in the other direction.

  “You’re welcome on one condition: no political talk at the picnic.”

  Now he grinned. “Sold. I don’t care if we never talk politics.” There was the Lord’s honest truth. He detested the fact his was the voice opposing hers. Which reminded him he still needed to invite her to participate in the debate. Tough. It could wait until after the picnic.

  She cocked her head, probed him with eyes steady and clear. “You almost say that like you mean it.”

  “I do. Politics have never been my thing. Politicians want everyone to love them, and to have that you have to please people. The problem is when you try to please too many people, you end up pleasing no one.”

  “Yeah, that’s politics all right. But we’re not talking politics right now. We’re having a picnic.”