Second Chance Match Read online

  “Hunter is—”

  The boy stood up, moving quickly to her. For a moment, she seemed about to collapse in her relief. Instead, she quickly put herself between Garrett and the boy.

  “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, grasping that pencil like a spear. “This is my fault.” She turned her head, hissing at the boy, “What were you thinking?”

  “To play,” he whispered back.

  “This is not a place to play!”

  “It’s fine,” Garrett told her, leaning back against the side of the potting table. “I told you that you were welcome anytime, and I meant it.”

  “It won’t happen again,” she insisted.

  “Really. It’s okay. He knows he can’t run around in here. Right?” Hunter nodded solemnly. “So, if he wants to play in here, no problem.”

  “You say that now,” Jessa began.

  “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know,” Garrett interrupted pointedly, “but he’s not exactly the rambunctious type, is he?” She clamped her lips into a flat line. Garrett changed the subject, nodding toward the sketchpad. “Do you have something there you want to show me?”

  She lifted it to her chest, holding it close for a moment, then she walked to the bench, laid the sketchpad atop it and flipped open the cover. Garrett glanced at the top drawing, lightly colored with pencil, and then at her before picking up the pad and turning the page.

  “These are fantastic. Ellie will be thrilled.”

  Jessa beamed. “You think?”

  “I’ve never seen drawings like these.”

  “I have photos,” she said quickly, “but not with me, and I like to draw, so I thought I’d do it this way. The actual designs wouldn’t be exact, of course, but this gives you the idea.”

  “We’re going to need ribbon,” he muttered, looking at the designs.

  “No problem. I know where to get everything. I have accounts, established by my mother, with all the wholesalers in Dallas.”

  Pleased, Garrett quipped, “Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine.” She laughed, and the sound flowed over his skin like water on a parched throat. “I don’t have any of these tiny mums or purple roses, but there’s hyacinth and hollyhock over here, and I have some really delicate ferns you should see.”

  He led her to a small space filled with potted ferns and lifted one from the floor. Jessa stepped up to finger the delicate, pale gray-green velvet of the frond. “It’s beautiful and the stems are stiff enough to work well. If Ellie’s okay with it, I certainly am.”

  “Let me show you something that might work for Odelia’s wedding,” he suggested quickly, setting aside the first fern. “She’s a little more flamboyant than Ellie.”

  “A little?”

  He had to grin. “Okay, a lot. But she’s as sweet as she is odd.”

  “You’re genuinely fond of them, aren’t you?” Jessa said, sounding bemused.

  “The Chatam sisters? I adore them,” Garrett admitted unabashedly.

  She stared at him for several seconds before shaking her head. “I suppose I should thank you for yesterday. The tea, I mean.”

  He shrugged. “The Chatams are serious about their tea, and I’m not sure they quite trust anyone who doesn’t enjoy it. I couldn’t stand hot tea when I first came here, frankly, but I soon learned to appreciate an afternoon cup.”

  “I see. Basically, then, you started drinking it so they’d trust you?”

  “No,” he said. “I started drinking it because I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. I signaled you to drink it so they’d trust you.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He tilted his head in surprise. “Why not? You seem trustworthy to me. You are, aren’t you?”

  “Of course, I am.” She lifted her chin and changed the subject yet again. “You wanted to show me another fern we could use for the second wedding?”

  He folded his arms, refusing to be budged this time. “You should know something else about the Chatams.”

  “Oh?” Her gaze stubbornly evaded his, but he plowed ahead.

  “You’ll offend them if you keep refusing to join them for dinner.”

  Her dainty jaw firmed, lips pressing together in a stern line. “We aren’t the kind to take advantage or impose.”

  “Look, I’m not suggesting that you take advantage of anyone. I just don’t see why you have to hurt their feelings.”

  Finally, she looked at him. “How am I hurting their feelings?”

  “By refusing their hospitality. They believe it’s their Christian duty to offer hospitality to everyone they bump into on the street. They pride themselves on their hospitality. And, I assure you, it’s offered without any expectation other than acceptance.”

  Jessa might have looked a tad embarrassed, but she looked away too quickly for him to be sure. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Sighing inwardly, he let it go. He didn’t know why he even bothered. She might look like an adorable doll, but Jessa Lynn Pagett could be hard as nails.

  “The other ferns are right over here,” he told her.

  “Ah.” She made a comment about the color, and soon they were involved in an animated conversation about the different possibilities—until something crashed. Garrett knew the sound well. A terracotta pot had fallen and shattered, a common occurrence around any greenhouse. The natural conclusion was that Hunter had bumped into something, but before Garrett could comment on that fact, Jessa took off in a panic. Garrett followed at a slightly more sedate pace, sure that the boy would have cried out if he’d been hurt. He arrived on the scene to find the pair of them staring down at a pile of red-orange shards with twin expressions of horror.

  Jessa whirled, exclaiming, “It was an accident.”

  “Of course, it was an accident,” Garrett replied calmly, reaching for a broom and dustpan.

  “I’m to blame,” Jessa insisted, placing herself between him and the boy once again, as if expecting Garrett to go after the child with the broomstick. The idea sickened him. He didn’t like being presumed a brute, but he liked even less the idea that someone had brutalized these two. And someone definitely had.

  Pushing aside the irritation, he made himself speak in a light, even tone. “No one’s to blame. Accidents happen.”

  Hunter leaned to the side, peering out from around his mother. “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered.

  “I know,” Garrett said, moving around Jessa to sweep up the mess. “You didn’t get cut, did you?” Hunter shook his head. “Good.”

  Garrett carried the laden dustpan to the workbench and pulled out a box. “I break pots all the time,” he told the boy, dumping the shards into the box. “This is where I keep the broken pieces, then I use them later in the bottoms of other pots so the soil doesn’t clog the drainage holes.” He set aside the dustpan and turned to face Hunter, who now stood next to his mother. “Be a little more careful next time, okay, buddy?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Garrett smiled, reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair, saying, “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

  Hunter looked stunned, shocked, and then his dark eyes began to gleam. The next thing Garrett knew, Jessa had bodily turned the boy and rushed him out of there. It happened so fast that Garrett stood there blinking at the empty spot where they had been. After a moment, Garrett smoothed a hand over his forehead and sighed.

  What had happened to those two?

  And what, if anything, was he supposed to do about it?

  Chapter Five

  “There, now,” Magnolia said, beaming at Jessa and Hunter as they pulled their chairs up to the table. “Very cozy.”

  Jessa glanced around the cavernous room, with its dark woods, ornate plaster fireplace, chandelier an
d old-fashioned floral wallpaper, and thought it was anything but cozy. They could probably seat eighteen for dinner at the massive table without crowding anyone. The table looked almost bare with the current eight around it. Make that nine.

  Garrett slipped through the door, joining the three Chatam sisters, Kent and Ellie Monroe, Asher Chatam, and Jessa and Hunter. He had obviously changed clothes and shaved since they’d met in the greenhouse. It seemed unfair that he could look so good in a simple black T-shirt, jeans and round-toed boots. She felt worn in her usual old jeans and simple blouse, but she simply didn’t have enough wardrobe to change for dinner every evening. Looking as uncomfortable as she felt, Garrett pulled out a chair for Magnolia, then seated himself between her and Asher, who had dressed down for the event, like Ellie, in running clothes. Jessa had the impression that the two actually intended to go out for a run at some point after the meal.

  From the head of the table, Hypatia asked everyone to join hands for prayer, which she asked Asher to deliver. He did so, thanking God for all present, the food and the hands that prepared it, as well as a number of other blessings. Jessa squeezed Hunter’s hand to let him know that he was one of her blessings. The “amens” were said, and she opened her eyes, only to find herself looking directly into a pair of bright blue ones. Garrett. Unaccountably flustered, she gave her heavy linen napkin more attention than it merited then bent to hear Hunter whisper that he had too many forks.

  “One is for your salad, honey,” she whispered back, watching a heavy crystal bowl being passed around the table. He looked confused but said nothing else.

  The salad turned out to be loaded with mandarin oranges and apple chunks, two of Hunter’s favorite foods. Steaming slices of fresh bread won his instant approval, too, especially when he was allowed to have butter. He hardly knew what to do with the salmon croquette, but the macaroni and cheese disappeared almost instantly, and she only had to remind him to eat his broccoli a couple times. His dark eyes grew wider with every new addition to the meal carried to the table by the houseman, Chester, Hilda’s balding husband, and Jessa felt a pang of guilt.

  This was simply dinner to these people, but it was a feast to her son. The two of them normally would have made do with the macaroni and cheese plus a green veggie, but they had eaten quite well since coming to Chatam House. She reminded herself that a growing boy needed more food than his cautious-with-a-penny mother and silently promised that she would find a way to provide him with more bountiful meals when they left here.

  She could tell that he was full to bursting by the time dessert came, but the pears baked with a crunchy topping proved too much for him to resist, especially as it was accompanied by ice cream. She let him eat what he could manage, wished she could refrigerate the rest for later and tried to pay attention to the conversation around the dinner table, which naturally focused mainly on the upcoming weddings.

  Hypatia expressed discontent with the buffet planned for Ellie and Asher’s wedding, arguing instead for a meal “properly served at table.”

  Ellie explored other alternatives. “Maybe family style. Like this.”

  Hypatia nearly swallowed her ice cream spoon. Jessa privately mused that if this was what passed for a family-style dinner at Chatam House, she’d be too terrified to eat a “properly served” meal. Hypatia agreed to the buffet without further argument.

  “Well, now that that’s settled, I can concentrate on flowers and a gown,” Ellie said happily.

  “Speaking of flowers,” Garrett put in, casting a glance in Jessa’s direction, “you should see Jessa’s designs.”

  Ellie gasped with delight. “You have designs already?”

  “They’re just a starting point,” Jessa said.

  “I think they’re magnificent,” Garrett stated flatly. “They’re imaginative, striking, gorgeous. I think they’re you, Ellie. I think she read you and put you in those designs. You’ll see.”

  Ellie literally clapped her hands. “When? When can I see?”

  “A-anytime,” Jessa told her, fighting down the surge of delight that she’d felt at Garrett’s praise.

  “Right now,” Ellie proclaimed, shoving back her chair. She grabbed Asher’s arm saying, “This won’t take long. We need to let our dinner settle before we hit the track, anyway.”

  “No problem,” he replied indulgently. “We have all evening. The track’s lighted.”

  Ellie kissed him quickly then said to Ellie, “I’ll meet you in the library!”

  “Ooh, me, too!” Odelia twittered, hastily getting to her feet.

  Kent, who had managed to rise only halfway before both women disappeared, glanced around the table at the others. Magnolia and Hypatia were both calmly folding their dinner napkins, but they took the hint and quickly got up. Jessa followed suit.

  “The boy’s welcome to stay with us while you ladies rhapsodize over flowers,” Kent told Jessa. “I promise not to break out the port and cigars. Actually, we don’t have any port or cigars.” He laughed.

  “Which is understandable since we don’t drink or smoke,” Asher commented with a chuckle.

  Jessa looked to Hunter, who seemed perfectly content where he was. “I won’t be long.”

  She hurried to slip past the older ladies, saying, “I’ll just run up and get my sketchpad.”

  Behind them, Asher chuckled as Kent said, “I believe I’ll have another pear.”

  Jessa sprinted up the stairs. Grabbing the sketchpad from the desk, she ran back down again, pausing at the foot of the stairs to catch her breath before swinging around the newel post. Garrett lounged in the library doorway as if he’d been waiting for hours.

  “You don’t mind if I join you, do you?” he asked, straightening and stepping back.

  His blue gaze holding hers, he lifted an arm to indicate that she should precede him, which she did, her heart pounding a little harder than it had a moment before. How did he do that to her with just a look? She tried to tell herself that it was because he’d praised her work earlier, but she knew better. Even that morning when she’d feared that he would attempt to discipline her son, she’d been aware that her quickened pulse had as much to do with the man himself and her attraction to him as her fears. She wasn’t the only one charmed by him, either. When Hunter had looked at him with worshipful eyes, she’d panicked and whisked him out of the greenhouse.

  She felt a little foolish now. Garrett would never be more than a temporary part of their lives. He didn’t have the power to disappoint or wound her son, and she would make sure that he never gained it because even if he wasn’t the strike-first-explain-later sort, that didn’t mean he was safe, and she would do well to remember it.

  Jessa opened the sketchpad and began tearing out the sheets, spreading the designs across the tabletop.

  “Photos would be better,” she began, and those were the last words she got in for some time, as everyone else suddenly began talking all at once. Everyone but Garrett.

  He stood with his back to the doorjamb, just watching—her, mostly—while the others gushed over her designs. Her awareness of him almost robbed her of her enjoyment of the women’s praise. He distracted her so much that she had a hard time following the conversation, which was why she didn’t realize she’d been asked a question until the room fell silent.

  “I—I’m sorry. Say again?”

  Ellie seized both of her hands. “I said, won’t you come shopping with us tomorrow?”

  “Shopping?”

  “For dresses. We don’t have a lot of time,” Ellie insisted, tugging on her hands. “I need your eye. You can help me choose the right bridal gown. I know you can. Please?”

  Jessa blinked and looked down at her well-worn clothing. What on earth made Ellie think that she would be any good at picking out clothes? “Oh, I don’t think—”

&
nbsp; Ellie swept up a drawing, holding it before her. “I had this in my head. Not all of it. I could never imagine all these flowers, but these colors…the shape. It’s perfect! Don’t you see? Garrett was right. You get me. Please say you’ll come. We’ll have such fun, I promise, just us girls.”

  Fun. When was the last time she’d had fun? Jessa wondered. Oh, Abby could make her laugh, and she and Hunter enjoyed a good board game from time to time, but…Hunter.

  She shook her head. “My son needs me here.”

  “On Saturday?” Ellie protested. “You don’t homeschool on Saturday, do you?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Carol would welcome the chance to spend more time with Hunter,” Magnolia said helpfully. “She’s told everyone what a delight he is.”

  “So darling!” Odelia trilled, glancing up from one of the drawings.

  “My, yes,” Hypatia added. “Why, our grand-niece, Gilli…” She broke off and cleared her throat, murmuring, “Well, she is younger than he is.”

  “And wilder,” Odelia added happily. “Much wilder.” She held up the drawing, pointed to the center of the floral arrangement depicted and said, “Wouldn’t this be lovely with a big blossom right here? How big do flowers get, anyway?”

  A big blossom. Yes, Jessa could almost see it now. It struck her then. Big, that was the key to Odelia. Ellie was a little extra, a bit voluptuous, a tad brighter and bolder, one more color in the usual palette. Odelia was huge, all the colors all the time, gaudy, even. For the wedding, though, she would need a gossamer overlay, a touch of elegance to carry it off. Jessa couldn’t resist a glance at Garrett. He was still watching her, laughter in his eyes.

  “How big were you thinking, ma’am?” she asked.

  Odelia put down the drawing and held up both hands, demonstrating. She wanted a blossom at least six-inches wide. Jessa tried not to smile. Yes, of course, she would.

  “I’ll have to do some research.”

  “You haven’t said you’ll come shopping with us tomorrow,” Ellie pointed out, seizing Jessa’s hands again.