Читать книгу The Millionaire and the Mum - Patricia Kay - Страница 9

J ack had no trouble finding the Johnson place. It was clearly marked with a neat white sign hanging from a rose-covered trellis.

JOHNSON NURSERY

Old Country Roses

Open Wednesday through Saturday,

10 a.m.-6 p.m.

A long gravel driveway wound through a large field surrounded by trees, gradually ending in a parking area beyond which sat a two-story redbrick and white frame house with a wraparound porch. To the right of the driveway was a garden area that contained dozens of rosebushes, interspersed with other kinds of flowers, although not many were in bloom now. Dotted around the grassy area surrounding the house were tripods and birdhouses and small trellises that were used as support structures for what Jack guessed would be called climbing rosebushes. Some of them had lots of roses in bloom, others only a few. To his left he saw half-a-dozen greenhouses, and behind the house he could see part of a barn and another greenhouse. The man at the motel hadn’t exaggerated. Everything in Jack’s line of sight showed storm damage, although the house and the rose garden seemed to have escaped with the least damage.

To the left of the house was a sweet gum tree that looked unstable. Several branches had been severed or partially severed and the trunk itself looked as if it had been split. As Jack drove closer, he saw that there was some kind of tree house in the sweet gum.

Somewhere out of sight he could hear a child, and down by the greenhouses, he thought he saw someone working. Looked like a woman, too. Maybe it was Beth Johnson. Turning off the ignition, he decided he would head that way.

Beth shaded her eyes and watched the unfamiliar red truck enter her property and come slowly up the road leading to the house.

She frowned. She didn’t recognize the truck, but maybe it was a customer. Pulling off her gloves, she walked toward the house.

Halfway there, she heard Matthew. His voice came from the back of the house. “Amy! Where are you?”

“I’m right here!” Amy answered.

Beth’s heart knocked painfully against her rib cage as she spotted Amy, who was just emerging from the tree house, Pooh bear clutched in her arms.

“Oh, my God! Amy!” she shouted. She began to run.

Although Beth’s entire concentration was focused on her daughter, who had begun to descend the tree house stairs, she was aware that a tall, dark-haired man had climbed out of the truck and, until she’d shouted, had been heading her way.

Suddenly there was a horrible cracking noise, and the sweet gum tilted to the left.

“Amy!” Beth screamed.

The stranger dashed toward Amy, reached up and snatched her off the ladder and, with Amy safely cradled in his arms, leaped out of the way just before the tree crashed to the ground. Once clear of the area, he gently set her on her feet.

“Mama!” Amy cried, racing toward Beth.

Beth nearly collapsed in relief. Tears ran down her face as she whisked her daughter—who also began to cry—up into her arms. “Oh, Amy,” she said, kissing her again and again. “You scared me. Why did you go into the tree house after I told you not to! You could have been killed.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I just wanted my Pooh bear. He was scared up there by himself!”

Beth knew that to Amy, her Pooh bear was as real as her brother, and almost as important. “Hush, sugar. It’s okay. You’re okay. But don’t you ever, ever, disobey me again, do you hear? No matter what the reason is.”

“I won’t,” Amy said, her voice muffled as she buried her head against Beth’s neck.

By now a white-faced Matthew had joined them. “I had to go to the bathroom, Mama, but she promised me she wouldn’t move off the porch until I got back.”

Normally Beth might have scolded him, but just then, she didn’t have the heart to. She knew he’d been as frightened as she was. Taking a deep breath, she finally turned her attention to the heaven-sent stranger who had saved her daughter. Meeting his eyes over Amy’s head, she said in a voice that still trembled a bit, “How can I ever thank you?”

He shrugged. “No thanks necessary. I’m just glad I was here.” Then he put out his right hand. “Jack Stokes, ma’am.”

His handshake was firm and strong. “Beth Johnson.” Now that her heart was calmer, she began to assess the man who stood before her. He was very good-looking, in a rugged, Marlboro man sort of way, with a deep tan, dark thick hair cut short, and striking blue eyes. “And these are my children,” she added. “Matthew and Amy.”

Matthew said a polite hello.

Jack smiled down at him and offered his hand once more.

Matthew grinned and the two shook hands.

Beth couldn’t help smiling.

Amy finally raised her head. After hiccuping, she gave Jack a shy smile.

“Hello, little lady,” he said.

“Hi,” she said in a tiny voice.

“You probably think I’m a bad mother,” Beth said, “but I told them to stay away from the tree.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Matthew said. Once again, he looked as if he were going to cry.

Beth squeezed his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, honey.” It really wasn’t. It was Beth’s fault Amy had been in danger. No matter how much work Beth had to do, that was no excuse for not watching her children more closely. “But it sure is a lucky thing for us that Mr. Stokes happened along when he did,” Beth added, turning back toward him. Now that she in control of her emotions, and Amy was safe, she was once more curious about why the man was there.

“Well, ma’am, I didn’t just happen along. I heard from Mr. Temple down at the Temple Motel that you needed some help here, and I came out to ask you for a job.”

Beth blinked. A job? He needed a job? Her gaze swept over his well-kept red pickup truck, his nice-fitting jeans, the worn but obviously well-made boots he wore, his clean hands and good haircut. Not to mention his teeth which—even though he had yet to smile—were white and straight and quite clearly teeth that had been cared for.

He sure didn’t look like he needed a job. Yet he had saved Amy from possible serious injury, so for that reason alone he deserved to have his request taken at face value. “I’m sorry,” she said with genuine regret. “I can’t afford to hire anyone.”

“I’d work real cheap.”

Beth grimaced. “I have to be honest. The only way I could afford you is if you’d work for free.”

He thought for a minute. “Tell you what. If you’ll give me a job, I’d be willing to work for room and board.”

Room and board? Was he serious? Why would he be willing to work for room and board? Something didn’t add up.

“I’m real handy,” he persisted. “And I’m not afraid of hard work. I could help you get those buildings in order again.” He gestured toward the greenhouses, then turned to the sweet gum. “I could get that tree cleared out, too.”

It was only then Beth realized she was doubly lucky. Not only had he helped avert disaster by saving Amy, but the sweet gum had fallen away from the house.

“I’m afraid that tree house can’t be salvaged, though,” he said.

They both looked at the tree house, which had been demolished by the tree falling on top of it.

Amy’s lower lip quivered, and Beth knew what she was thinking. Eben had built that tree house, one of the few things he’d ever made for the kids, and Amy, in particular, had loved it.

It hurt Beth to see her child suffering, but what could she say? She certainly couldn’t afford to have someone build them another tree house.

Apparently taking her silence for resistance, Jack said, “I have references. I could get you some names of people you could call.”

Studying him, she considered his offer. She was tempted to take him up on it, even though she was sure this man was hiding something. He had to be. No man who looked as well off as he did would need to work for room and board. “Look, I know I owe you for what you’ve done for me today, but you could probably go to any one of the rose farms and get work. Paid work.”

“I tried the other places. They all want someone who knows something about roses.” He smiled at Matthew again, and Matthew smiled back. “I don’t know a thing about roses, but I wouldn’t mind learning.”

Oh, God, despite her doubts about him, she desperately wanted to take him up on his offer. She was exhausted, and she had so much work ahead of her if she hoped to get the farm back in working order. So what if he had something to hide? Didn’t most people? And he had saved Amy from a terrible accident, hadn’t he? Besides, he’d said he’d give her references.

“How about a trial period?” It was obvious from his tone he sensed she was weakening. “One week. If it doesn’t work out, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll go.”

Her eyes met his again. His blue gaze was steady and direct. Maybe she was crazy, but it also seemed honest to her. She sighed. “All right. One week.”

Now he smiled. “You won’t be sorry.”

Maybe not, Beth thought. Then again, maybe she would. She sure didn’t have a great track record when it came to judging men. Right now, though, she really didn’t care. She needed help, and he was offering it. She would take her chances and hope for the best.

Jack could see Beth Johnson wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing by hiring him. Hell, if he could persuade warring fanatics to release a dozen hostages, he could sure persuade one woman to let him work for her. “I could start right away.” He gestured toward the tree. “If you’ve got a saw, I could get that tree cut up and piled over by the fence where it won’t be a hazard.”

She nodded slowly. “That would be great. While you’re doing that, I’ll make up a bed for you on the sleeping porch. That’s the screened in part at the back of the house. I hope that will be satisfactory.” This last was said primly, and she didn’t meet his eyes.

It was clear she was wary about having him inside her house. He didn’t blame her. He was a stranger. For all she knew, he could be a thief or worse—a murderer. He was glad to see she was sensible as well as pretty.

For pretty she was, even though she was dressed in beat-up boots, faded blue jeans and an obviously old yellow T-shirt with dirt everywhere—on her clothes, her face, her hands, her knees. Still, no amount of dirt could disguise the fact that her slender yet womanly figure curved in all the right places, or that her strawberry-blond hair was thick and curly and shining, or that there was an appealing sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks and nose, or that her eyes were steady and clear and the warmest golden brown he’d ever seen. Yes, she was an altogether very pretty woman.

The kids were cute, too. That boy of hers looked just like her. The little girl, though, must have taken after the father, because her hair was dark and her eyes were blue. Jack hadn’t been around many children in his life, but he couldn’t help liking the Johnson kids. Or their mother, who was still waiting for his answer.

“The sleeping porch will be fine,” he said. “But you don’t have to rush to get it ready. I’ve paid for a night at the Temple Motel, so I might as well stay there tonight.”

“Are you sure?” When he nodded, she said, “All right. But if you’re going to work here this afternoon, you’ll stay and have supper with us. My electricity’s back on, so I can cook again.” She grimaced. “Although my phone is still not working.”

“On my way in I saw some telephone linemen working.”

“Did you? That’s good. I hope they get our service back soon.”

He nodded. “I appreciate the offer of supper, but it’s not necessary to feed me.”

“I insist. That was the deal,” she said firmly.

He could see her pride wouldn’t let her accept his help today unless she could pay him something, even if it was only a meal. “Okay. Supper sounds great. Now why don’t you show me where you keep your tools? I don’t guess you have a chain saw?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Leading the way to the barn, she added, “Everything you’ll need is in there. While you work on the tree, I’m going inside for a bit. Matthew, you and Amy come with me.”

“Ah, Mama, can’t I stay out here and watch Jack?”

“His name is Mr. Stokes. You know better than to call an adult by his first name. And, no, you may not stay out here and watch. He doesn’t need you hanging around getting in the way.”

“I’d rather he call me Jack. Mr. Stokes sounds like some old man,” Jack said, giving Matthew a conspiratorial wink.

“Can I call you Jack, too?” piped up little Amy.

“Amy,” Beth said admonishingly.

Jack looked at Beth. “Mrs. Johnson, I really don’t mind—”

“Beth,” she interrupted. “Please call me Beth. We don’t stand on formalities here.”

“Beth,” he repeated, liking the way her name felt on his tongue. “What I was going to say is, if the kids want to watch, maybe they could sit in the bed of my truck. That way they could see, but they wouldn’t be in any danger.”

“Please, Mama, please?” Matthew begged.

“Please, Mama?” Amy echoed.

“Oh, I guess it’s all right, as long as Mr. Stokes—”

“Jack.”

She seemed taken aback by the interruption, but when she realized he’d done the same thing to her that she’d done to him, she grinned. “Jack.”

He liked the way his name sounded on her lips, too. He also liked her smile. It was open and real, with no suggestion of anything other than genuine amusement.

“Okay, then,” she said, “You two can watch, but if you get out of the truck, Jack will send you into the house, and that will be that. Understood?”

Both children nodded solemnly. “Yes, Mama.”

After one more warning to be good, Beth left the three of them and headed for the house. Telling the children to wait, Jack went into the barn and found the chain saw. Then he and the children walked back to the truck. After getting them settled in the flatbed, Jack attacked the fallen tree.

He worked steadily for the next hour or so, and just as the kids began to get restless, Beth walked out onto the porch. Jack saw that she’d cleaned herself up and now wore fresh jeans and a light brown T-shirt.

“Time for lunch,” she said. “I made hot dogs.”

“Oh, boy,” Matthew said. “Hot dogs are my favorite.”

“They’re my favorite, too.” Amy said.

Jack smothered a smile. It was obvious Amy had a bad case of hero worship where her older brother was concerned. The way she acted reminded him of how Kate used to follow him around all the time when they were young. The twins had had each other, but Jack had always had Kate, and no matter how much their father had tried to discourage her from tagging after Jack, she had paid no attention.

“I thought we’d eat on the side porch,” Beth said as she helped the children out of the truck.

“Cool! A picnic!” Matthew raced around to the side porch, closely followed by Amy.

Beth shook her head. “Those two are a mess.” But despite her words, it was clear she adored her children.

“They’re nice kids.”

“Thanks.”

“Matthew’s in school?”

“Yes. Second grade. And Amy’s in kindergarten.”

“So they didn’t have school today?”

“No. It was canceled because of storm damage. I do hope they’ll go back tomorrow, though. It’s hard to get anything done when they’re home.” Her expression became rueful. “You see what very nearly happened today. What would have happened if you hadn’t been here.” Her eyes clouded.

Jack had an idiotic urge to put his arm around her and tell her to quit thinking about it, everything was okay now. The unexpected feeling shook him, because he wasn’t normally given to emotional reactions to people. He couldn’t afford them, not in his line of work.

Leaving him on the porch with the kids, she went inside. A few moments later, she returned with a laden tray containing plates and silverware, hot dogs in buns, jars of mustard and relish, a plastic squeeze bottle of ketchup, and a bowl of something that looked like macaroni salad. She set the tray down on a small metal table in the corner. The kids immediately began to help themselves.

“Wait, Amy,” Beth said as Amy picked up the bottle of ketchup. “Let me help you.”

“I can do it myself,” Amy said. To prove her point, she turned the bottle upside down and proceeded to squirt ketchup on her hot dog. Although the amount of ketchup that ended up on the sandwich was probably twice what should have been there, Amy gave them a triumphant smile. “See?”

“You did a good job,” Beth said. “Now try not to get any of that ketchup on you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Help yourself,” Beth said, turning to Jack.

“I need to wash up first.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You can wash up in the barn. I don’t know if you saw it or not, but in the far corner there’s a little bathroom that the help—when we had help—used to use.” For a moment, her voice held a trace of bitterness. Then she seemed to shake it away. “There’s even a shower.”

He found soap and an old but clean towel hanging from a hook next to the sink and cleaned himself up. There was a mirror over the sink, too, so he combed his hair. While standing there, he felt something against his legs and looked down. A large black cat was rubbing against his legs. “Hey, where’d you come from?”

The cat meowed, yellowish-green eyes glowing in the semidarkness of the building.

Jack leaned down and petted the cat, who arched her back and purred. He had never especially liked cats; his father had tended toward dogs—big dogs—but this cat seemed okay. Besides, it was obvious she’d taken a liking to him. It was hard to dislike an animal that liked you, he thought ruefully. She even followed him when he set off toward the house.

“I see you discovered Char,” Beth said when he rejoined her and the children.

“Char?”

She grinned. “Short for Charcoal.”

“She discovered me.”

“Usually when strangers are here, she hides until they leave, plus she’s been really spooked since the storm. She must like you.”

Again he thought how much he liked Beth Johnson’s smile. So far his impression of her and her children was favorable. Whether that would make a difference to his investigation, he didn’t know, but he thought it probably would, because he was a pretty damn good judge of people, and Beth struck him as completely honest.

Returning her smile, he filled his plate, accepted a glass of lemonade, then sat on the top porch step and began to eat.

Beth settled the kids on the old glider that was a holdover from her grandmother’s days, then decided it would be friendlier to join Jack on the steps, even though there were a couple of wooden chairs on the porch that she’d intended for them to use.

“I’ve been looking at your roof,” he said when she was seated. “Did you know you’ve lost some shingles?”

Beth shrugged. “No. There are so many more immediate serious things wrong around here that I hadn’t looked at the roof yet.”

He nodded. “I can probably replace those shingles for you, and maybe later you can show me what else needs doing.”

“Why don’t we wait until tomorrow? It’s probably going to take you the rest of the afternoon to dispose of that tree, don’t you think?”

“Probably.”

“Okay, then. Tomorrow morning we’ll look at everything else.”

For a while, they ate in silence, but Beth was acutely aware of his presence beside her. She was very curious about him, yet strangely reluctant to ask questions lest he think her interest something more than normal curiosity.

When they had finished their meal, she got up and went into the kitchen where she fixed a plate of cookies from a batch she’d baked a couple of days before.

“They’re peanut butter,” she said apologetically when she offered the plate to Jack.

“Peanut butter cookies are my favorite.”

“Really? Did your mother used to bake them when you were young?”

For just a moment, something resembling pain flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly masked. “My mother left home when I was six,” he said offhandedly.

Beth wasn’t fooled by his attempt to be casual. Tenderhearted, she was immediately sympathetic. How awful to lose your mother when you were little more than Amy’s age! And he hadn’t said she’d died, he’d said she’d left home. Had she willfully abandoned him? Is that what he was saying? She was tempted to put voice to her questions, but thought better of it. Jack Stokes didn’t seem like the kind of man who would share confidences easily, and certainly not with someone he barely knew. Mind your own business, she told herself.

But she was still wondering about him later that afternoon as she prepared supper. He was back working at the sweet gum tree. She could hear the intermittent whine of the chain saw as he cut the trunk and branches into pieces small enough to easily move.

Walking to the sink, she peered out the window. He sure didn’t look like a man down on his luck, she thought again, yet what other reason could he have for offering to work for room and board? It wasn’t as if Beth had anything else he might want.

She took an onion out of the wire bin hanging over the sink and, laying it on her cutting board, peeled it, then cut it into hunks. Using the food chopper her best friend Dee Ann had given her, she minced the onion, then added it to the ground meat mixture she was preparing to turn into meat loaf.

Still thinking about Jack, she rooted around in her spice cupboard for the bottle of Worcestershire sauce she was sure she had. Finding it, she sprinkled some over the meat mixture.

Could he be running from the law? Somehow he just didn’t seem like the type. Besides, if he was, Rose Hill wasn’t the kind of place he’d go. People running from the law usually tried to lose themselves in big cities where you could be anonymous. In little towns like Rose Hill, everybody knew everybody else’s business. Beth would be willing to bet just about every one of the nearly three hundred souls who called Rose Hill home knew that a man in a red pickup truck had been hired to work out on the Johnson place. And in a day or two, they’d probably know the terms of his hiring, too. There were no secrets here.

Maybe she’d been crazy to hire him. And yet, there was something so solid and reassuring about him.

She added two eggs and bread crumbs to the meat, then washed her hands and dried them carefully. Once she was sure they were clean, she stuck them into the bowl and mixed everything by hand until all the ingredients were well blended. There was something very satisfying about mixing meat loaf by hand, she thought, remembering how her grandmother had done it the same way.

“Mama, I’m hungry.”

Glancing around, Beth smiled at Amy, who had walked into the kitchen. “Supper won’t be ready for a while, but you can have a banana or an apple if you want.”

“Okay.” Amy walked over to the table and reached into the bowl sitting in the center. Inside were two bananas and one apple. She took a banana out and began to peel it.

Beth shaped the meat mixture into a loaf. Once it was a neat oval, she placed it in the pan she’d prepared earlier. The oven was already preheated, so she stuck the meat loaf inside and turned her attention to the potatoes that needed to be peeled.

While the meat loaf baked and she prepared the mashed potatoes, green beans, and butterscotch pudding that would round out the meal, her thoughts returned to the man outside.

Maybe she was crazy for hiring him, but right now she really didn’t care. It was comforting to have a strong, masculine body on the property, someone who could do the things she couldn’t do herself, so no matter what he might be hiding, she wasn’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth.