The Cottage on Juniper Ridge (21 page)

“Timmy, stop it!” Ashley yelled.

She was wearing a tight black top that was cut low enough to
give a man an eyeful and skintight jeans. A few years ago that would have turned
Garrett’s burner to high. Today he just looked at her and frowned.

“What did you feed him?” he asked. Wasn’t the mom supposed to
ask the dad stuff like this?

She shrugged.

“Hey, buddy, what did you have for breakfast this morning?”

“We had doughnuts!” Timmy leaped onto the couch and began
jumping up and down.

Garrett scooped him up. “How many doughnuts did you have?”

“I had three!” Timmy said, still going at it like a Mexican
jumping bean.

Ashley acted surprised. “Three?” she repeated.

“What, you didn’t give him three doughnuts?”

“No. You think I like it when he gets like this?”

Garrett stared at her, mystified. “Then how is it he came to
have three doughnuts?”

“I had a jelly doughnut and a chocolate doughnut and a really
long doughnut,” Timmy bragged.

“A maple bar?” Garrett guessed.

Timmy nodded enthusiastically. “It was really good.”

“I bet it was. And where was Mommy when you were having the
really long doughnut?”

Timmy shrugged.

“I was busy doing something,” Ashley said.

Probably her nails.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she added.

“It is if you aren’t paying attention to what our kid is
eating,” Garrett snapped, and headed for the door.

“Oh, yeah, and you’re so perfect.”

He knew he wasn’t a perfect parent, but at least he paid
attention. He decided not to respond to her taunt. Instead, he said to Timmy,
“Let’s go see Grandma.”

“Grandma!” squealed Timmy. He wriggled to get down and Garrett
released him. The child bolted for the door, yanked it open and was out of the
apartment like a shot and running down the hallway.

“See you in a couple of weeks,” Garrett said, wishing he didn’t
have to.

“No, you won’t. I’m going out of town.”

“Timmy, wait!” Garrett called. Then, to Ashley, “Where are you
going?”

“That’s none of your business, either.”

Timmy had apparently developed deafness and was already at the
stairs. In another minute he’d be in the parking lot. Garrett didn’t have time
to stand around and argue. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, and hurried
off after his son. Whatever loser his ex was hooking up with, it was just as
well that Timmy wouldn’t be exposed to him.

Maybe he already had been. Once they were in the truck Garrett
learned that Timmy had a new toy, a jackknife.

“Look what Mommy’s friend gave me,” Timmy said, pulling it out
of his pocket.

Great. Give a five-year-old a knife. Was his ex-wife really
this stupid? And how stupid did that make him, since he’d fallen for her in the
first place? “That’s pretty cool.” He held out his hand. “Can I see it?”

Timmy passed it to him. “He’s gonna teach me to...” Timmy
screwed up his face. “Whit...whit—”

“Whittle?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s real nice of him.” Was the goon also going to sew up
his son’s finger when he cut himself? Garrett still remembered his first
jackknife. He’d begged and begged until his parents finally caved and gave him
one for his eleventh birthday. And, of course, he’d proceeded to cut himself the
first time he tried to use it. Every boy wanted one and every boy usually
managed to slice himself. Timmy was way too young for this.

Timmy put out his hand, but instead of returning the thing,
Garrett slipped it in his shirt pocket. “Tell you what, let me hang on to this
for you. Okay?”

Timmy’s smile vanished and he shook his head. “I want to show
Grandma.”

“I’ll show it to Grandma,” Garrett assured him.

Now Timmy’s sunny disposition began to do a disappearing act.
“I want my knife,” he whined. “I want to show Grandma.”

“Don’t worry. She’ll see it,” Garrett said. “Hey, what do you
think Grandma’s making for Sunday dinner?”

Timmy wasn’t going to be distracted. “I want my knife,” he
insisted.

“I’ll give it back to you a little later. When you’re old
enough to learn how to use it and not hurt yourself.”

That turned on the tear spigot. “I want my knife!”

Garrett clenched the steering wheel. “Let’s see what Grandma
says,” he suggested, hoping to bring in someone else to share his bad-guy
status.

Timmy wasn’t having any of it. Now the crying began in earnest.
“I want my knife!”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” Garrett said, losing his
patience. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Was this going to be how it was for the rest of his life, him
being the bad guy, always having to do damage control? It was a depressing
thought.

They arrived at his parents’ house with Timmy still
sobbing.

“What’s wrong with our little man?” his mother asked, holding
her arms out to Timmy.

The child ran into them and upped the drama level with even
louder sobs. “Daddy took my knife.”

Garrett’s mother looked at him questioningly.

“One of Ashley’s new ‘friends’ gave him a jackknife.”

His mother nodded. “Well, Timmy, I bet your daddy’s just
keeping it safe for you until you’re older. Don’t you think?”

Timmy shook his head violently. “I want my knife.”

“You know what? I made some peanut butter cookies. Would you
like one?”

“He already had three doughnuts for breakfast,” Garrett told
her.

She frowned in disapproval. “All right, then, how about some
string cheese? And then you can help Grandpa fill the bird feeders,” she said to
Timmy.

At this the sobs began to subside. Timmy got his string cheese
and was then handed over to Garrett’s dad to help with the important job of
feeding the birds, and Garrett’s blood pressure returned to normal.

“That woman is a disaster. What you ever saw in her I can’t
imagine,” Garrett’s mother said as he settled down at the kitchen table with a
cup of coffee.

That was because his mother wasn’t a man. “You’ve told me that
before, Mom,” he said irritably.

“Well, I’m telling you again,” she said as she checked on the
pot roast. “You’d better make sure the next woman you pick has her act
together.”

* * *

And Jen Heath didn’t qualify, Garrett reminded himself
when he went over later in the week to till a plot for her garden. His mother
had to help a friend with an emergency so he brought Timmy with him after he got
out of kindergarten. Jen had played hide-and-seek with Timmy while Garrett
worked, and he’d just given her brownie points for being good with kids when she
ruined the good impression she’d made.

“I got some strawberries at the store yesterday. How about some
strawberry sundaes?” she offered.

Timmy nodded eagerly. “I like sundaes. My grandma makes
sundaes.”

“Well, let’s see if I can make one as yummy as your grandma’s,”
Jen said. She looked at Garrett.

“I’ll pass,” he said, wiping his sweaty brow.

“How about a Coke instead?”

“That’d be great,” he said. “I’ll load up the tiller.”

“Okay, then. You want to help me?” Jen asked Timmy.

“Okay,” he said, and followed her into the house.

By the time Garrett came in, she and Timmy were hard at work,
Timmy pulling stems off the berries and Jen slicing them.

“Okay, now we need ice cream,” she said as Garrett came back
from washing up. She took ice cream from the freezer and handed it to Timmy.
“And whipped cream.” She got a can of whipped cream from the fridge and gave
Timmy a playful squirt on the nose.

He giggled and wiped it off, licking the cream from his
fingers. Back at the counter, she dished up ice cream, topped it with the
berries and whipped cream and then squirted Timmy again. And then she was
chasing his son all over the cottage with the can. Next she’d be feeding him
doughnuts.

“Okay,” he said, “let’s eat those sundaes.” He got up and went
to take the can from her.

“Oh, no. You can’t have my whipped cream,” she said, hiding it
behind her.

“Oh, yes, I can,” he insisted, backing her toward the kitchen
counter.

Now he had her pinned and he was suddenly aware of every curve
of her body.

“What will you give me for it?” she teased. The words were
barely out of her mouth when she seemed to catch the sexual overtones. Her
expression grew more serious and she licked her lips.

He pressed closer, feeling her softness against him.
Go ahead,
urged some little devil on his shoulder,
kiss her.

Except his son was present. Still, he was tempted...

“Squirt Daddy!” Timmy yelled.

She obliged, bringing the can around and shooting him square in
the face. Whipped cream went up his nose and down his chin and he stepped back,
blinking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, and set the can on the counter. “I
didn’t mean for so much to shoot out.” And then she was giggling.

Timmy was laughing uproariously. “You look funny, Daddy!” He
grabbed the can and aimed it at his father.

“Timmy, no,” Garrett protested, but it was too late. Next thing
he knew, his T-shirt was covered in whipped cream. Nice.

“Okay, enough,” he said with a frown. He got a kitchen towel
and started wiping off his shirt. “You’re a bad influence,” he informed her.

She smiled, displaying two dimples. “It’s good to have
fun.”

Ah, yes, that was her mission in life, to have fun. Just like
Ashley.

They sat down to eat their sundaes while Garrett nursed his
Coke. “So, there’s no guy in Seattle wishing you hadn’t moved up here?”

She shook her head and studied her sundae. “No.”

“That’s hard to believe. There has to be someone.”

“There was. It didn’t work out.”

“Was it serious?”

She stabbed at her ice cream. “Until we got divorced.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

She managed a little shrug. “It’s been almost two years. I’m
moving on.”

But moving with baggage in tow. Nobody escaped without some. He
knew. He had his own share of post-divorce luggage.

Here was another reason he couldn’t allow himself to get
interested in this woman. Timmy needed stability.
He
needed stability.

Timmy was now licking his bowl. Garrett removed it from his
son’s hands. “I think you’re done, buddy.”

And they were done here. No more friendly landlord-tenant
relations.

“We’d better get going,” he said.

She looked at his half-finished drink and blinked in surprise.
“Oh. Well, thanks for tilling my garden plot.”

“No problem,” he said, pulling Timmy’s chair out from the
table. “Come on, buddy, time to go.” Before he and Jen got any chummier. “Call
me if you need anything,” he said in parting, then gave himself a mental kick.
The last thing he needed was Jen Heath calling him.

He said his goodbyes, took his son and got out of there. Once
they were home, he called Tilda. “So, what are you doing tonight? Want to come
over for pizza and a movie?”

“Yeah. I’m up for that.”

So was Garrett. He was going to be smart about women from now
on.

* * *

Jen cleaned up the kitchen and then went outside to prep
her garden. She found a shovel in the shed and her bag of fertilizer and got
busy fertilizing her soil. As she worked she tried to analyze what had happened.
One minute Garrett Armstrong was sending out signals that he was interested and
the next he’d shut down.

It had to be because she’d said she was divorced. But so was
he. What was his problem?

Not what, who. As long as he was with Tilda, he was
off-limits.

What do you care? You just met two nice
men at the Red Barn.

And they liked to dance. They probably liked whipped cream
fights, too. They probably wouldn’t hold it against her that she’d made a poor
selection in the love department the first time around. And she’d probably have
the same physical reaction if one of them backed her up against her kitchen
counter.

Okay, that was hoo-ha. She’d gotten more of a charge in that
one moment with Garret than she’d gotten from a whole evening of dancing with
her two new admirers. Her love life stank worse than the stuff she was spreading
in the garden.

She frowned at a clump of fertilizer and beat it to death with
her rake.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sometimes all that stops us from having a better life is...us.

—Muriel Sterling, author of
Simplicity

“Y
ay, you’re finally here!” Jen greeted her sister as Toni climbed out of her SUV. She’d expected Toni earlier in the day and now the afternoon shadows were lengthening.

“Thank God,” Toni said as the sisters hugged. “Interesting, isn’t it, how once I’m about to leave suddenly everyone needs me? Between getting Jordan’s history day project up to the school, and delivering the homework Jeffrey forgot, and
then
having to email Wayne a list of who needs to be where when, I thought I’d never get out the door.” She shook her head. “You should have heard him this morning. You’d think I was abandoning him to life in prison instead of a few days in charge of his own kids.” Her smile turned wicked. “What a shame. He’ll have to see firsthand how much I do.”

“So, are you coming up here to see me or to teach your husband a lesson?”

“Yes,” Toni said with a smile. “I hope you’ve got the cards out. I’m ready for some Hands and Buns.”

“You bet. And I’ve got homemade limoncello and bruschetta. I just have to toast the bread.”

“I’m famished.”

Once inside the cottage, Toni sniffed. “Do I smell chocolate?”

“Yup. I’m trying a new recipe for brownies.”

“Homemade limoncello, bruschetta, brownies... Who are you?”

Jen smiled. “I’m a woman who has time to enjoy life now. That’s who I am. Of course, I’m not exactly swimming in money these days, but with my new lifestyle I don’t need that much.”

“No shopping sprees?” Toni teased.

“Who needs to shop when you can garden?”

“Garden?” Toni echoed.

“Here, put your stuff in the guest room, then I want to show you something,” Jen said, leading the way down the hall.

Toni stowed her overnight bag and joined Jen out on the back deck.

Jen pointed to a patch of dirt. “Behold my future garden.”

“You, the black thumb queen?”

Toni was a master gardener. Jen suddenly felt foolish showing off her little veggie patch. “Well, it’s not much.”

“I think it’s great! You’ll have to weed it, you know.”

“Ha-ha. I know.”

“So, what have you got in there?”

“Carrots, beets, lettuce, spinach and onions. Everything I need for a perfect salad.”

“And I saw lavender in your flower beds.”

“Great for everything from cooking to making bath salts and sachets. You’re all getting homemade presents for Christmas this year,” Jen said proudly.

“Good for you, sis.” Toni smiled. “Tell me again why I thought moving up here was a bad idea.”

For once, one of her impulses had paid off and she loved hearing her big sister admit it. “I can’t remember.”

“Me, neither,” Toni said with another grin. “Pour the limoncello and let’s play cards.”

Once they were settled with their drinks and snacks, Toni returned to the subject of the garden. “So, what happened to your front yard?” she asked as she put together a canasta of tens.

Jen had conveniently neglected to tell her about the first tilling fiasco. That had been too embarrassing, and she’d known Toni would have plenty to say about it. Her sister had never come right out and said it, but Jen was well aware that Toni considered her a screwup. Hardly surprising in light of her failed first marriage and the bad decision to buy a condo and leave herself financially strapped. Toni didn’t do things like that, even if she did like to complain about her family. At least Toni
had
a family.

“That didn’t turn out to be a good spot for the garden,” she said.

Thankfully, Toni nodded and let the subject drop. Then she picked up a new one. “Are things heating up between you and the fireman?”

Jen frowned and reached for her drink. “Not really.”

Toni shook her head. “I don’t get that man. You said he’s got someone but that he doesn’t seem too interested in her.”

“That about sums it up,” Jen said. She sighed and played a card.

“Well, he’s an idiot,” Toni decided. “Find somebody else.”

“I’m working on it,” Jen said, “but so far there isn’t anybody else who interests me.”

Toni drew her cards and considered them. “You do get a bug up your nose sometimes, you know.”

She sure had one up her nose now. She was hopelessly, ridiculously fixated on Garrett Armstrong. She sighed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay, how’s the blog coming? I’m liking your posts.”

Her sister the writer liked her blog. That made Jen happy. “I’m enjoying it. But like I said, I still don’t have an idea for a book.”

Not that she had to write one in order to fill her time. Between her job, volunteering at both the Icicle Falls library and organizing the one at church, she was getting busy all over again. It was so easy to say yes whenever someone asked her to do something. And everything sounded interesting or worthwhile, so she just jumped right in.

Instead of sharing this, she said, “Are you going to help me brainstorm?”

“Sure,” Toni said.

But there was no chance to brainstorm that night, not when they were busy drinking, eating and playing cards. The following day was equally full with shopping, lunch at Zelda’s, dinner with Cecily and then book club.

Everyone was delighted to meet Toni and welcomed her as if she were an old friend. Juliet was especially excited when she learned that Toni was a master gardener. “Have you read this book?” she asked, holding up their selection for the month.

Toni shook her head.

“I found it really inspiring,” Juliet went on.

“Not me,” Chita told her. “I’m too busy simplifying my life.”

“It didn’t do much for me, either,” Charley said. “But I’ll happily eat all those extra zucchinis you übergardeners bring in.”

“I’ll share,” Juliet said. “If I can spare any. I’m already making plans for chocolate zucchini cake, zucchini muffins and zucchini bread. Oh, and zuccini pizza.”

Stacy cocked an eyebrow. “Zucchini pizza?”

“Oh, yeah,” Juliet said. “I got the recipe online.”

“I’d better add some zucchini to my garden,” Jen decided.

“So are Jen and I the only ones doing a garden?” Juliet asked.

“I guess so,” Cecily replied.

Juliet rolled her eyes in mock disgust. “You’re all a bunch of lightweights.”

“No, we’re just simplifying,” Charley said. “And growing a garden on top of keeping up with a family and running a business does not make for a simple life.”

“Speaking of business, how’s the shop doing?” Chita asked Stacy.

Stacy bit her lip and stared at her glass of lemonade. “It could be better.”

“You have to give it time,” Charley told her. “It takes a while to build a customer base.”

Stacy nodded, but she looked as if she wanted to cry. “I thought this was such a good idea.”

“Hey, it is,” Cass assured her. “This is our slow season, but business will pick up starting at Maifest, and then we’ll have lots of people coming up for the summer, and things will be good clear through December. You just have to hang in there for a few more weeks.”

“Or until tomorrow,” Toni said. “I want to check out your shop. And I brought my credit card.”

That made Stacy smile. “You can bring your sister to book group any time,” she told Jen.

“Since when are you into antiques?” Jen asked later as she and Toni drove back to the cabin.

“Since tonight. I bet I can find something in that shop.”

And, sure enough, she did. By the time Toni was done checking out Timeless Treasures the next day, she’d amassed quite a collection of goodies—a china cup and saucer to give their mother for her birthday, a vintage necklace she knew Jordan would like, a carved Jim Shore Easter creation and a set of Fiesta ware mugs.

“Now, all I need is about twenty more customers just like you,” Stacy said as she rang up the sale. “Although I’d settle for one or two.”

So far they were the only ones in the shop. Poor Stacy. She’d worked so hard at this. Jen hoped Cass was right and business would pick up. Otherwise, Stacy was going to be back to having a houseful of stuff. Nope, there was nothing simple about simplifying your life.

* * *

It was a typical Saturday. Chita had piles of laundry to do, a son to drive to baseball practice, a house to clean. She looked around and decided the dusting and vacuuming could wait. She put the kids to work cleaning their bathroom, and while they did that, she threw in a load of laundry. Quesadillas and canned chili would take care of dinner. And now she had time to breathe.

She also had time to stop by Stacy’s shop after dropping Enrico off at the baseball field.

There were no other customers and Stacy sat at the counter by her cash register, doing something on her computer. She raised her head when the shop bell jingled and her face lit up at the sight of Chita and her daughter.

“Hi, guys,” she greeted them.

“Thought we’d come see what new things you’ve gotten in since your grand opening,” Chita said.

Anna was drawn instantly to a display of a little-girl-size china tea set. “Don’t touch anything,” Chita cautioned. “Just look.”

“That’s new,” Stacy said. “I took it in on consignment.”

Anna was gazing at the tea set as if it were the Holy Grail. “It’s so pretty.”

“How much?” Chita asked Stacy in a low voice.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

Her daughter would soon be too old for tea parties. Now was the time to indulge her. She and Stacy did some quick negotiating and then the tea set was Anna’s.

“Thank you, Mama!” she cried, and about hugged the life out of her mother.

Okay, that had been worth every penny.

The bell over the shop door jingled again, and a man entered. A tall, slender, fortysomething man with light brown hair and a mustache. Ken Wolfe, the veterinarian.

Stacy greeted the newcomer. “How’s everything in animal land?”

“No big trauma this week, no casualties.” Now he smiled at Chita. He had a darned nice smile. “We haven’t seen Hidalgo in a while. Has he been behaving himself?”

“Yes. It’s a miracle.”

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Stacy asked.

He scratched his head. “I’m looking for a gift for my sister. She’s got a birthday coming up.”

“I’m sure I’ve got something she’ll love,” Stacy said. “Does she like china, decorations? Is she interested in quilts?”

He scratched his head again. “I’m not sure. I’ll just browse for a while.”

“Of course,” Stacy said.

He turned to Chita. “Maybe you can help me.”

The tone of his voice, the way he was looking at her...was Ken Wolfe interested in her? Chita caught Stacy’s smile out of the corner of her eye and found herself blushing.

“What would you pick out?” he asked.

“Something for the kitchen,” Chita said.

“Food for thought,” he punned. “My sister’s a foodie. She’d probably like something for the kitchen.”

Chita led him to the section where Stacy had arranged a number of kitschy kitchen items. “This is adorable,” she said, pointing at the small pedestal glass dome with three teacups stacked inside.

“What would you do with it?” he asked with a rather confused expression on his face.

“Use it as a centerpiece for a tea party.” She could see herself using it the next time it was her turn to host a shower. And with so many women in her large extended family either getting married or getting pregnant, she was bound to have the opportunity.

“I don’t know,” he said.

She picked it up. “Then I’ll have to get it for myself.” And that was the absolute last thing she was buying. Her bank account wouldn’t accommodate any more spending. Still, it was good to splurge once in a while and she hadn’t done any splurging in a long, long time. “I think I’ll throw a tea party one of these days.” Maybe for Mother’s Day. She could have her mother and her two sisters and their daughters over. She smiled at the thought.

“You know, you have a lovely smile,” Ken said. “I rarely see it when you come into the clinic.”

“That’s because I’m always worried about Hidalgo.”
And how I’m going to pay the latest vet bill.

“Well, it’s nice to see.” He pointed to an empire-waist blue apron with a swirling black floral print. “Hey, what about this?”

“That’s nice,” Chita said.

He folded it over his arm. Decision made. “I’ll give it to her early. She’s having a dinner party tonight, French theme. This looks French, doesn’t it?”

“Oui,”
Chita agreed.

Now he tilted his head and turned to her, considering. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in French food, would you? Beef bourguignon.”

Ken Wolfe was asking her out? Was that what was happening? She blinked in surprise. Had he been sending signals all along and she hadn’t picked up on them?

Maybe they’d been too subtle. She’d certainly known when Jose Fuentes, who worked in the Sweet Dreams warehouse, had been interested. Nothing ambiguous about what he’d said, especially when he added a bump and grind to demonstrate.
Go out with me tonight and you could get lucky, Chita.
Ick.

“And Julia Child’s raspberry Bavarian cream for dessert,” Ken added.

“What do you know about Julia Child?” Chita teased.

His cheeks took on a reddish tint. “I’m kind of a foodie myself. I’m actually bringing the dessert.”

A dinner with grown-ups. That sounded wonderful. But... “My children,” she began.

“I’ll babysit,” offered Stacy, who’d been shamelessly eavesdropping.

“There you go. Now all you need is a string of pearls.”

“We have those here,” Stacy said.

“So, what do you say?” he asked.

“Oui.”

Later that evening, Chita found herself wearing a sundress and the cultured pearls Stacy had insisted on giving her, seated at a dinner table with five other people and discussing everything from food and books (her favorite subjects) to politics (not her favorite subject). And all the while, Ken had kept her wineglass filled and made sure she felt included. His sister and her friends had been equally welcoming. It had been an evening of quiet sophistication, like something out of one of her book club novels, she thought as he drove her home.