Love In Bloom

After losing his wife to cancer, Lt. Alexander Steele vowed he’d protect himself and his children from that kind of loss again. But that was before he laid eyes on Lisa Fitzgerald. She welcomes him to town and immediately connects with his shy daughter, Emma. Yet Lisa is a cancer survivor herself, and so a reminder of everything Alex and his family suffered. Will a relationship with her be too much for him to bear? With their love growing even faster than Lisa’s beautiful gardens, Alex has to decide whether he can risk his heart once more.

Knowing everything she had been through, Alex wanted her to relax over a garden. Grin at his kids. Make his daughter’s perpetual frown disappear.

He hiked a brow. “Dinner at six?”

She started to say something, then caught herself and shook her head. “Not a good idea.”

Alex stayed low-key and stretched out his single-word question. “Because?”

“You have issues with my issues. I have issues with my issues. End of story.”

She almost shouted the last comment, and that made him smile. “Good cops learn to deal with issues. And you need to eat.”

“I’m thirty-three years old, I’ve been feeding myself for a while, but thanks anyway. However, I would love to do Emma’s project. That’s it.”

Alex feigned acceptance. The best investigators knew to plant seeds of doubt, guilt or need...then walk away, hoping evidence would come to them.

With Lisa, he was willing to wait.

RUTH LOGAN HERNE

Born into poverty, Ruth puts great stock in one of her favorite Ben Franklinisms: “Having been poor is no shame. Being ashamed of it is.” With God-given appreciation for the amazing opportunities abounding in our land, Ruth finds simple gifts in the everyday blessings of smudge-faced small children, bright flowers, freshly baked goods, good friends, family, puppies and higher education. She believes a good woman should never fear dirt, snakes or spiders, all of which like to infest her aged farmhouse, necessitating a good pair of tongs for extracting the snakes, a flat-bottomed shoe for the spiders, and for the dirt…

Simply put, she’s learned that some things aren’t worth fretting about! If you laugh in the face of dust and love to talk about God, men, romance, great shoes and wonderful food, feel free to contact Ruth through her website at www.ruthloganherne.com

The Lawman’s Second Chance

Ruth Logan Herne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.

—Isaiah 41:10

For Lisa Wehrfritz Tydings and Beth Endlich, one here, one in heaven. Your battles inspired both sides of this tender story.

May God bless you and keep you in his loving embrace, always.

Acknowledgments

First and foremost I have to thank my beautiful friend Lisa Wehrfritz Tydings. Girlfriend, you went to extremes to get me firsthand info…. Next time we’ll limit our research to books, okay? To Jeff Tydings for his candor and humor and amazing belief in God. You set the bar high for any man dealing with a life-threatening illness while surrounded by four kids under eleven. You rock. To Taylor, McKenna, Nolan and Brody Tydings, the four children I’ve cared for since their births. I love each and every one of you, which is why I like to torture you… It’s what I do. Huge thanks to Lisa and Jeff’s families for allowing us to be part of their help brigade. Devoted thanks to Love Inspired Senior Editor Melissa Endlich, who encouraged my work on this book. Her warmth and wisdom helped strengthen these pages from beginning to end. The dedication tribute to her mother, Beth Endlich, is heartfelt and sincere. Regardless of circumstances, we are never ready to kiss our mothers goodbye.

Heartfelt thanks to Van Putte Gardens in Greece, whose Breast Cancer Awareness Pink Flower Campaign inspired the fictional “Lisa’s” campaign. I walked into their garden center just days after the real Lisa’s diagnosis and knew God put me there, surrounding me with pink, filling me with hope.

To the Hilton community, the Hilton Central School district, St. Leo the Great Catholic Church, Lisa’s coworkers, fellow parishioners, neighbors and friends who stocked refrigerators, drove kids and prayed unceasingly. You are wonderful people. Your help will never be forgotten. And last but never least to our amazing day-care moms surrounding Lisa, who fearlessly took up the cause to help when one of their own was threatened. The Pink Garden, the Fight-Like-A-Girl party, the T-shirts, the videos…the constant love and support (and yes, even the tears…). Lisa couldn’t be embraced by a more loving, caring, devoted group of women and I bless our time together, every single day.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Lieutenant Alexander Steele turned into the parking lot of Gardens & Greens Nursery and pulled up short. Shades of pink surrounded him while huge banners proclaimed the garden center’s tribute to breast cancer awareness.

The Southern Tier investigator had three choices. Fight the bile rising in his throat, drive the car away and disappoint his ten-year-old daughter yet again, or man up and choose a parking spot.

He chose the latter and pretended to like it, but he’d been pretending for too long and the garden center’s Pink Ribbon Campaign slam-dunked his already damaged heart. Why here? Why now? He’d made the move to Allegany County not only to get away from the city, but also to escape the grief breast cancer had left behind.

Realization hit home. Spring had arrived, finally. May loomed just around the corner. That meant Mother’s Day.

Of course. He hadn’t thought of that. Was it a deliberate mistake, like so many others of late? Or was he simply bogged down with work and the task of raising three motherless kids?

“Oh, Daddy.” Emma’s gray eyes rounded as she grasped his hand. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your life?”

The crush of pinks wasn’t beautiful. Not to him. Not when every ribbon, every banner, every rose-toned bloom and 5K run reminded him of what he’d lost two years before. His wife. His helpmate, appointed by God.

He’d believed that then.

He believed it now. So pardon him while he internally recoiled at memories of the killer disease that robbed Jenny of her life and him of the wife he’d had for too short a time.

“I...um...”

She looked up at him. Met his gaze. Her little hand clasped his in solidarity beyond childlike understanding. “I miss her every time I see pink flowers.”

The bile rose further. Or maybe it was just a lump in his throat, inspired by Emma’s unshed tears. But she recovered faster than he did, and tugged him forward. “We need to see what they have, find Miss Fitzgerald, then do a sketch.”

“A sketch?” The look she angled his way said he hadn’t been listening. Guilty as charged. “What sketch?”

“Of the yard, Dad.” She pressed her lips together, and pulled him to the right. “Let’s start over here.”

More pink. Great.

A teenager paused in front of them and offered a tray of sugar cookies. Cookies done in the shape of a breast cancer ribbon. Pale pink frosting outlined the loop and a dusting of rose and white sprinkles sparkled in the late morning sun. Emma accepted one with a bright smile.

Alex would rather choke down potting soil than eat one of those cookies. He shook his head, hoping his expression didn’t reflect the darkness in his heart.

Who in their right mind expected this many shades of pink? Not him. And he didn’t like it at all.

“What are these, Dad?” Emma lingered, her notebook in hand. She took out his digital camera and snapped a pic of the pink flowering bush. “I like them. A lot.”

Of course she would. They were pink and Emma was a girl. One plus one equaled... “The ticket says it’s a Sugar Plum hydrangea.”

“So pretty.” Emma copied the name into her notebook and studied the card. “Some sun, light shade, keep moist. Which side of our house is best for that?”

They’d bought a historic village home over the winter, a house far removed from the modern center split he and Jenny shared for twelve short years of marriage on the east side of Rochester.

He’d needed different, a new setting. He actively sought change in every way he could—house, job and location.

He did manage to keep the same three children, mostly because they were too noisy to bring much on the black market. Or maybe because he could keep them safer here in this sweet, pastoral town.

Down here, in the rolling hills of Allegany and Cattaraugus Counties, he could leave the drug-riddled city streets behind him. A new start, personally and professionally. Safer for his heart, better for his soul. He’d had enough of gang warfare, racketeering and neglected children to last a lifetime. He’d faced every kind of evil known to man, and he’d won the day sometimes.

But not always.

Jenny’s death meant it was time to leave. Seek anew. Begin again.

He’d gotten the two older kids settled into Jamison Elementary School, Emma in fourth grade and Becky in second. Little Joshua went to a preschool facility. The day school was pricey but the hours worked well with Alex’s demanding schedule. Saving Jenny’s life insurance money for Josh’s college education would be redundant if the kid flunked kindergarten.

Jenny had possessed a knack for teaching little ones, as if life’s lessons were intrinsic to her personality. His knack was for solving crime. Directing a troop of officers. And playing with kids. They’d made a great team.

And then she died.

His heart seized again, the garden store celebration a kick in the head to a widower barely getting by.

“You look lost.”

Alex turned and faced a pair of the prettiest brown eyes he’d ever seen. Dark. Bright. Engaging. Filled with humor. “Do we?”

She nodded and bent to Emma’s level, the mid-spring sun sparkling soft rays of light from her dark, wavy hair. “Well. He does.” She jerked a thumb his way, and the way she did it, as if she and Em were simpatico and in league against him, made him smile.

“He is,” Emma agreed. “Actually, we both are, Miss...?”

“Lisa.” The woman stuck out a hand to Emma, shook hers, then stood again. “Lisa Fitzgerald. And you are?”

“Alex.” He accepted the handshake and the smile, and for just a moment felt like he’d been transported into a world of warmth again. Kindness. Gentleness. And it felt good. “Alex Steele. And my daughter, Emma.”

Recognition deepened Lisa’s smile. “From the 4-H club. I got an email saying you’d be contacting me.” She encompassed both of them with her question and expression. “So what have we got going, Alex and Emma? This can seem a little overwhelming when you first arrive.”

And then some, thought Alex, but not the way she meant. The vast variety of plants and gardening products covered acres of land. Two sprawling red barns stood along the far side, and a newer building, a retail-store Morton building, linked to the nearest barn. Distant greenhouses stretched north and south in tidy rows of plastic-wrapped metal tubing while closer hothouses lined the brick walk. They were filled with wide rows of potted flowers under blooming hanging baskets done in various shades of pink and rose.

Right now he hated pink with an intensity that rivaled his aversion for cooked spinach, and he’d never hated anything as much as cooked spinach.

“I’m doing a kind of massive project,” Emma explained. “And my leader said I should come here and see you first. To see if you could be my adviser.”

Lisa didn’t look surprised. “That’s because my mother was a 4-H leader and worked on all kinds of projects, from raising calves to starting seedlings. I’ve taken on a tiny bit of what she used to do. And I do believe Mrs. Reddenbach’s email used the words ‘precociously bright.’” She bent low. “I’m not all that good with cows, so please tell me you’re here about gardening tips. As long as it’s about plants and dirt, I’m your go-to person.” Her wistful face implored the girl to avoid all questions relating to farm animals.

Emma nodded, delighted. “Just gardens. At our house. If you can help us.”

“Phew!” Lisa swept a hand across her smooth brow.

Alex relaxed a little more. Maybe this woman could guide them through the intricacies of planning and implementing a garden. It had seemed easy enough when Emma approached him after her first 4-H meeting, but then he realized a garden, in overachiever Emma’s mind, meant the entire circumference of their home and would take months to complete.

Oops.

But it was the first thing she’d shown strong interest in since Jenny’s death, and he couldn’t deny her a chance to heal. To move on. To embrace life.

You could try taking your own advice. Start living in the here and now.

He ignored the internal ruminations. With three kids and a full-time job, an eight-room house and a yard in dire need of attention, he had enough on his plate. He’d save the psychobabble for some day when he had time to breathe again.

“What kind of garden are we planning?” Lisa asked.

“Landscaping garden,” he replied. The face she made said he was in over his head, and her grin indicated she wanted to laugh at him, but held back because Emma was there. Oddly enough, her reaction made him want to laugh at himself. “And as you’ve probably surmised, I don’t have a clue.”

“And that shouldn’t matter,” Lisa told him smoothly, and gained another point when she tipped her gaze down to Emma’s. “Because it’s her project, right? That’s why the 4-H leader sent you to see me.”

It was.

Suddenly Alex felt a whole lot better. “Yes.”

“Although a garden project this size is beyond the scope of a normal...” Lisa eyed Emma. “Ten-year-old?”

“Yes.” Emma preened, just a little. “I’m kinda small for my age and people always guess wrong.”

“Your eyes shine with ten-year-old wisdom,” Lisa assured her. Once again Emma’s smile blossomed into something Alex had missed for two long years.

“What we need to do is determine the amount of money you want to spend, the shapes of the gardens you’re doing—”

“Redoing,” Alex interrupted. “We bought a house on McCallister Street in February and while the house is in great shape, the previous owners had health problems and the gardens took the brunt of it.”

“The Ramsey place.”

They had started moving down a row of flowering perennials, following Lisa’s lead, but her words stopped Alex’s progress. “How did you know that?”

“Small town.” She shrugged. “And I have friends a few doors down from you. Trent and Alyssa Michaels.”

“Cory is my sister’s friend.” The new connection brightened Emma’s face further. She looked up at Lisa. “Becky and my little brother, Josh, are at their house right now.”

“That’s perfect,” Lisa declared. “Cory and Clay could use some playmates close by. That will keep them out of their big brother Jaden’s hair. So.” She faced Emma again. “Let’s think about what your goals are, now that I know what house we’re doing. Do you like bushes? Flowers? Easy care?”

“Yes.”

Alex’s bullet-quick response to easy care made her laugh.

And when she did a few heads turned their way, as if her joy inspired theirs. Another perk of small-town living, Alex decided.

“Easy care it is. And which sides are shady?”

Emma tapped her notebook. “The house faces north. There’s a big maple tree out front and another one off to the side, so the north and east sides are shady a lot of the time.”

“And the back? That’s a southern exposure, right? Mostly sunny?”

Emma nodded. “It goes back to the creek that flows down to the Genesee River, so there’s already a stone walk and a stone wall before you get to the creek.”

“Which hopefully will help keep Josh out of the creek until he can swim,” Alex added.

“And cost factors?”

Lisa angled her gaze up to Alex again, and her look of honest concern promised to work within the budget he set. He added that to a growing list of things to like about this woman and small towns in general. “I know things are expensive, but it’s important to get it done right. Emma’s pledged her whole summer to this project.” He laid a hand on her head and she tipped a grateful smile up to him.

Her mother’s smile. Beneath his eyes. So pretty, so sweet, too young to be touched by the realities of death at eight years old, but he’d had little choice in that matter. And she was a survivor. An optimist. The ensuing two years had made her more so.

Becky, his younger daughter, tended to take the world on her shoulders, more like him. And four-year-old Joshua just wanted to be loved. And fed. Often, if possible. Total boy.

“Well, you can see how crazy busy we are here today,” Lisa explained.

Alex nodded. “Great for the bottom line, and that’s important in business.”

“It is,” she agreed, but then placed a hand on Emma’s notebook. “I’ll give you ideas today, but if you can come back on a quiet weeknight, we can plan with fewer interruptions. I’m here every night this week. And I should swing by your place to get an idea of how you envision this going.”

“Could we, Dad?”

“Well, I—”

“If time is crazy and today’s better, we can get started now,” Lisa assured him, and something about her willingness to help him, help them, made him more receptive to the idea of coming back. And maybe the pink barrage would be backstaged by some kind of yellow festival. Or purple. Even plain old green would be better than this immersion in bubble-gum-shaded reminders. “Monday afternoon?” He had Monday off so he could grab the girls from school and come straight to the nursery. “Around four?”

“That’s perfect. And if it’s all right with you, I’ll come by your place tomorrow after church. For right now—” A voice over a loudspeaker summoned her to the front desk. Her expression said it had been a common occurrence that day. “And that’s exactly why Monday would be better, because a project like this needs prep time. 4-H leaders look at the planning steps carefully. This is a big project for a ten-year-old.” She winked and smiled down at Emma. “Even a really smart, cute one.”

Emma grabbed Alex’s hand. “Dad will help us.” Her voice and gaze put complete trust in him. No way could he disappoint her on this.

“Considering the size of the Ramsey place, we’ll need you to be fully on board,” Lisa continued. “While this is Emma’s venture, she’ll need some muscle to get the ground cleaned up. And then planted. And I’d love to be her 4-H adviser, but we have to have another adult on-site when we work on kids’ projects in a private setting.”

From a policeman’s point of view, Alex understood the rule, but one look at Lisa’s bright eyes and quick smile assured him his kids were safe around her. But something about the way that smile tugged his heart said his safety might be jeopardized. The awareness surprised him, but felt good. Real good.

Somehow feeling good felt wrong. Mixed emotions vied for internal control. He hadn’t been attracted to another woman in a long time, but right here? Right now?

He was.

“That would be awesome.” Emma’s grateful gaze reflected his sentiment.

Lisa didn’t talk down to Emma. Alex liked that. Emma’s intelligence levels spiked the charts and he and Jenny had learned not to underestimate their firstborn. Odd but nice that this woman recognized Emma’s gift from the beginning, but Alex found that some of his best detectives on the force came by the needed skills naturally. And that gave them a leg up. “Monday would be fine. And thank you, Lisa.”

He stuck out his hand.

She took it. Smiled. Then did the same with Emma. “A pleasure doing business with you, Emma.”

Emma’s smile took Alex back to a time when smiles were a foregone conclusion and not nearly as appreciated as they should have been. “Thank you, Miss Lisa.”

“Just Lisa’s fine.”

Emma’s smile widened, the idea of calling an adult by her first name a thrill. Ah, to be young again.

When I was a child I spoke as a child...

His children had been pushed to grow up too early.

They turned to go, but Alex paused when Lisa called them back. “A quick reminder. Most plants grow quickly with TLC. Kind of like kids. So let’s not overplan, okay? We’ll measure carefully and see where that leads us.”

Emma grinned and waved the notebook. “Dad and I will do that today.”

“Excellent.”

Lisa turned her gaze to his and waved, just a little wave, but her eyes...

Warm, brown, vibrant and full of life...

Said she was looking forward to working with them.

So was he.

* * *

“Who’s the total stud-muffin?” Caroline Fitzgerald asked once Lisa cleared the main computer to recognize the tags on pink merchandise from matching vendors. On any of the vendors’ products sold before the end of June, her dollar-per-item pledge toward breast cancer research would be matched with one of their own. Those donations could unlock an easier way to battle the disease. Something that didn’t include radical surgery, poisonous drugs and radiation burns, treatments she’d endured firsthand.

This one’s up to You, God. Put it on the heads, hands and hearts of those researchers to find a key. Amen.

“Hmm?”

“The guy.” Her sister-in-law pointed across the sprawling sales area of their family business. “Tall, broad-shouldered, military hair and a soldier profile. With the cute kid.”

“They’re new in town.” Lisa followed Caroline’s hand motion with a quick gaze. “Alex and Emma Steele. Clearly you couldn’t see his gray eyes from here, or you’d have mentioned them because they’re heart-stoppers. Kind of calm and storm, mixed together. When he smiles, they brighten. Like when the sun peeks out on a cloudy day.”

Caroline grinned at Lisa’s elongated observation. “Really?” She drawled the word as if reading a lot into one simple statement about eye color, then paused, surprised. “Wait. That’s Lieutenant Alexander Steele?”

Lisa’s answering frown said she had no idea what Caroline was talking about.

“The State Troopers lost a bunch of people from their investigations department. They transferred in several new guys from other sectors. If you listened to Adam more...”

Caroline’s husband, Adam, was Lisa’s younger brother, a great guy and a New York State Trooper, but between work, buying a new house and helping her father on the farm, Adam had been unavailable for much of the past three months. Work was the last thing he talked about when they were together. Lisa laughed. “And if there were more hours in a day...”

“I can’t argue that,” Caroline agreed. “Anyway, Alex Steele is the new lieutenant in charge of investigations. He’s a widower,” she added, but anything else she might have wanted to say was lost in saving her small child from possible annihilation. “Rosie-O Fitzgerald, do not even think of heading toward that parking lot.”

“I’ve got her.” Lisa snatched up the mop-headed tot and held tight. “I’m going back out on the lot to field questions, so I’ll keep her with me.”

“Thank you. I thought she’d be sleeping by now.”

“She loves the limelight. Just like her daddy.”

“Even though she looks like her Aunt Lisa.”

Lisa couldn’t deny it. Same dark eyes and dark curls. And she wasn’t the only one who wondered if a similar fate awaited Rosie, if the genetic cocktail that had erupted as breast cancer in Lisa at age twenty-nine might linger already in Rosie’s tiny, perfect body.

Cancer sucked.

Lisa tucked her niece onto her hip and headed back outside.

Crowds of people teemed around the displays. Her father was caught up in a composting demonstration beside the back shed, his go-green attitude prevalent throughout the garden lot.

Lisa headed toward the fountain exhibits. Landscape gardening was her forte, a blessing in more ways than one. Between losing her breasts, her lymph nodes, her hair and a husband who decided damaged goods weren’t his cup of tea, she’d poured herself into fun landscape design.

Flowers gave her joy.

Gardens gave her repose.

Fountains offered hope of life-giving water, the image of Christ in the river, being baptized by a mere man, his cousin. Some of her favorite choir songs embraced water. Sacrifice. Rising to the challenges life set before you. She used to excel at the “faith-in-all-things” mentality. Lately?

Not so much.

Right now a neighborly challenge aimed her way. Chin down, eyes sharp, Eddie Jo Shupert wore determination like a mantle of clothing. The aged woman seemed certain that crises could be averted and illness made well by drinking her power shakes, three times a day.

Lisa reasoned that if the chalky-tasting shakes were God’s answer to everything that ailed mankind, someone besides her neighbor might have figured it out by now. But since they were on a straight path for one another, Lisa had little choice but to paste a smile on her face and hope for a reprieve.

“Lisa! I’ve been hoping to talk to you! Have I got a great new line to show you, the kind of thing...” Eddie Jo lowered her voice as if sharing a compelling secret, for no ears but Lisa’s. “That prevents things from coming back. Ever.”

If only such a product existed. It didn’t, but not for lack of scientific trying, and Lisa had no time to elevate this overture into a full-fledged conversation. Not on such a huge sales weekend with a wriggly child in her arms.

“Eddie Jo, you know I can’t risk taking anything that might compromise the good effects of the medicines I’m taking. And I wish I could talk more now...” God would forgive her half truth, hopefully “...but we’re swamped as you can see and I—”

“Lisa?”

A small voice called from across a clever display of pink-and-fuchsia perennials. She turned in time to see Alex Steele place a cautionary hand on Emma’s shoulder, but Lisa didn’t want him to shush the girl. Right now, whatever question Emma had was preferable to Eddie Jo’s spiel. “Gotta go.” Lisa gave Eddie Jo a quick smile and a wave. “Customers waiting.”

She didn’t turn to see if Eddie Jo looked exasperated. Eddie Jo was known to sputter, so it wouldn’t be a news flash in any case. And Lisa held herself back from hugging Emma because that reaction would be over-the-top, but she realized Alex possessed perception beyond the norm when he quietly observed, “You owe me.” His gaze flicked toward Eddie Jo before coming back to rest on Lisa. “I met Ms. Shupert in church last Sunday and was treated to an informative discussion on how using her products would not only improve my children’s grades and hair texture, but establish good colon health for me.”

“Good colon health being of great importance at church.” Lisa met his naughty and knowing smile with one of her own.

“Right up there with teeth whitening and forgiveness,” he agreed, his voice easy. The way he handled their banter, with quiet humor and intelligence, made Lisa realize Alex Steele was a breed apart.

She liked the tenor of his voice. The solid but gentle feel, very Roosevelt, the whole iron-fist-in-a-velvet-glove thing. He sounded strong but looked approachable, and that made for a wonderful combination. “You guys needed me?”

“It’s about these.” Emma pointed to the perennial area. “If this kind of flower comes back every year, why don’t people just grow them? Why waste money on those?” She pointed to the greenhouses and tables loaded with bright-toned annuals.

“That’s a great question,” Lisa told her. She readjusted Rosie, plucked a coral-to-pink Echinacea blossom and handed it to Emma. “This is a coneflower bloom. And it’s gorgeous, it self-multiplies, and comes back every year, but it doesn’t start to flower until mid-July.”

“Then what do I do in June?” asked the girl reasonably.

“That’s where the annuals come in,” Lisa explained. She indicated the perennials with a quick thrust of her chin. “I’ve forced these indoors so people can get a visual of what their gardens will look like later in the summer, but you have to pick carefully to have a colorful garden from April through October. So most folks use annuals to add color because our gardening season is short.”

“I didn’t know how much flowers cost,” Emma admitted. Her voice went softer. “Dad, if this project is too much for you, we can just do part of it. I don’t want you to run out of money.”

Lisa’s heart melted. What a gracious child, to be concerned over her father’s ability to pay. It almost made her want to cut him a deal, but if Caroline was correct and Alex was the new lieutenant in charge of investigations for Troop A, then he was doing well enough to make her income look paltry by comparison.

Therefore, Alex Steele would get no deals at Gardens & Greens, regardless of how compelling his gray eyes were. Or how adorable his kid was. To his credit, he shrugged off the girl’s worry. “We’re fine, Em, but I appreciate your concern for my bottom line. Is this your daughter?” he asked then, changing his attention to include Rosie. “She looks like you.”

“My niece,” Lisa replied. She nuzzled Rosie’s dimpled neck and laughed when the little girl screeched. “I’m not married.”

“Ah.”

Why did I say that, why did I say that, why did I...

She hadn’t meant her reply the way it sounded, like gifted information. As if she expected him to care whether she was married or not. That ship had sailed because she understood what few women knew: a spouse might claim to be in it for the long haul, but cancer had a way of changing things. In her case it took less than six months for Evan to dump her once she had to fight for her life at the expense of her breasts and hair.

“Well, she’s beautiful.” The look Alex shifted from Rosie to Lisa suggested he wasn’t referring just to the child.

A flush started somewhere within Lisa, a hint of pleasure mixed with a dose of embarrassment because she hadn’t been fishing for compliments. Conversely, she didn’t exactly mind being on the receiving end of a delightful flirtation. A flirtation that made her want to smile more than she had in several years.

“Well, guys, if you don’t have any more questions?” Lisa arched a brow to Emma.

Emma patted her notebook. “We’re good. Thank you, Lisa.”

“You’re most welcome. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yes.”

Lisa moved down the new brick walkway, a recent project designed to showcase the various applications of brick, stone and grass for garden paths. She felt his eyes watching her, wondering...considering...

But she refused to turn and see if her suspicions were correct, because as good as it felt to smile and trade quips with a strong-talking, gently spoken man like Alex Steele, she had no idea how to go about explaining what she’d been through. That she wasn’t exactly the average woman next door anymore. If she was, she’d still be married and maybe have a few rug rats of her own running around the garden.

But she didn’t and wouldn’t most likely, even though the fertility clinic had harvested and frozen a clutch of her eggs before chemotherapy could destroy the tender information stored within them.

She was closing in on her five-year mark, a big deal in cancer circles. Five years cancer-free meant you might have really, truly won the war, battle by battle.

Each and every day she prayed that was true, right after telling God “Thy will be done” in the Lord’s Prayer.

Where lay the truth? Was she all right with God’s will if it meant succumbing to cancer? Or was her earnest prayer for continued good health the more realistic side of her?

She didn’t know. But she cared. Oh, yes. She cared a great deal.

Chapter Two

“Hey, Dad.” Lisa hailed her father as one of the college guys maneuvered a watering hose up and down the aisles, giving the plants a much-needed drink while the sun banked west. “Amazing sales today.”

“You’re right.” Her father slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a half hug. “Mostly due to your efforts.”

“Oh, please.”

He squeezed again, lighter this time. “You’ve picked up a lot of slack around here this year, between losing your mom and my absent-mindedness.”

“It’s okay to grieve, Dad.”

“I know that.” He paused and let his gaze wander the pretty sight of the well-kept nursery. “This was her doing, you know.”

Lisa had heard this all before, but if Dad wanted to tell the story again, she’d let him.

“I thought we’d do well with beef cattle. And we did, to a point. But then your mother branched out from gardening to plant production. Those first greenhouses...” He smiled, remembering. “You were just a baby and Adam wasn’t born yet, but your mother and I fashioned them by wrapping metal poles around the silo with the tractor to get a perfect curvature. Then Uncle Dave welded them to the base frame. We added plastic sheeting covers and an old wood stove to maintain temperatures overnight, and a new business was born.”

“It may have been Mom’s idea, but your hand helps stir every pot on the place, Dad.”

“Because I’m no fool,” he declared, laughing. “And when you took after your mother, with that knack for growing things and promotional planning, I realized I’d be smart to be the brawn of the operation and let you two be the brains.”

“I like the sound of that.” She pointed to the back area, where piles of mulch outlined a large, curved loading area. “Which mulches do I need to replenish?”

“Black, red and natural.”

She nodded and moved inside. “I’ll email the order over so we have delivery by Monday. And we’re okay on bagged varieties?”

“For now I’d hold off on the pre-bags.”

“Gotcha. Hey, I’m going to the nine o’clock service in the morning.”

He turned, puzzled, because the choir sang at the ten-thirty service and Lisa sang with the choir. “Because?”

“I’m stopping by the old Ramsey place for a consult after church and I want to get back here early. If today was any indication, tomorrow will be cranking busy and I want to have time to meet people. Talk with them.”

“Just like your mother.”

He smiled when he said it, but Lisa understood the ache inside. The upcoming holiday would be their first Mother’s Day without Maggie Fitzgerald. Lisa didn’t want to think about it, and if keeping busy at the garden center kept the loss of her energetic mother off her mind, all the better, but it was hard when every flower she touched, every order she placed, every display she arranged reminded her of where her talent came from.

Her mother. Gone in her mid-fifties from debilitating heart disease caused by a blood infection. Who would have thought such a thing possible?

Not Lisa. Not after her mother had championed Lisa through two rounds of chemo, multiple surgeries and weeks of exhausting radiation. Maggie had been a go-getter who raised two kids and looked forward to teaching her grandchildren the ins and outs of the gardening business she loved. She’d lived just long enough to see Rosie take her first steps, a new generation of Fitzgeralds on the run.

And then she passed away, just after Christmas.

Lisa shoved the encroaching melancholy aside and forced herself to remember the good times. Her mother was a staunch Christian, and a determined adversary of people who let obstacles mar their paths. Maggie’s motto? Go for it. Get it done.

Lisa felt the same way, but that didn’t ease the sense of loss. Still, keeping Gardens & Greens booming was the best way to salute her mother’s memory and keep her father’s grief sidelined.

* * *

Sunday morning chaos. How could someone who commanded a troop of officers manage to mess things up repeatedly on Sunday mornings?

And just when Alex thought they might get out the door for the early service at Good Shepherd, the doorbell rang. He looked out the window. His hopes for a quick getaway plummeted.

Jenny’s mother. Here. In Allegany County. And of course the house looked like an F-2 tornado had just raced through, leaving a path of total devastation in its wake. And here was Nancy Armstrong, her new luxury vehicle parked behind his SUV, looking like she might be ready to move in.

Murphy’s Law resounded in his brain: if something can go wrong, it will, and at the worst possible time.

He opened the door, wishing Josh and Becky hadn’t picked that moment to mushroom their verbal argument into full-scale hand-to-hand mortal combat. “Hey. Stop it, you guys! Becky, let go of him.”

“He took my game!”

“I wanna play Super Power Rangers!”

“Find yours!”

“You lost mine!”

“Did not!”

“Did—”

“Josh. Stop. Now.” Alex plucked the scrappy boy up from the carpet and kept him out of Becky’s reach, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Becky had grown, which meant a shopping trip and the ensuing arguments over clothing. Emma couldn’t care less about what she wore, and if someone saved her the trouble of shopping so she could get lost in a book, all the better.

Becky?

Her word was law in the kids’ department.

“Give it to me.”

Alex plucked the electronic game system from Josh and held it up. “That’s not how you ask for things, Becky.”

“I shouldn’t have to ask for it,” Becky screeched. “It’s mine! He took it!”

“I need it!” wailed Josh.

“Well, you can’t have it. It’s mine.” Becky stomped her foot, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “And no one...” she angled a scathing look up, a glare that included her father and brother “...has my permission to use it.”

Nancy’s quick intake of breath screamed disappointment in him and her grandchildren’s behavior.

Becky’s decision to make a hard-line stance right now was a big mistake. Huge. First to mouth off to her father, but second to do it in front of her disapproving grandmother. Nancy had suggested in the past that he would most likely muck up raising her daughter’s children. The current scene gave him little room for argument.

She’d also opposed his decision to move the family to the more rustic, rural Troop A area. She’d accused him of running away. What she didn’t get was how soul-tired weary a guy could get fighting crime in the city. Surrounded by need and want, desperation and dejection. Losing Jenny left enough sadness in his life.

He’d opted for this new setting purposely, a fresh start. Trees and hills. Peace and quiet.

Well, okay, that last was purely subjective, considering the battle of wills raging between his kids now.

He trained his gaze firmly on Becky, hoping she wouldn’t pick this moment to dig her heels in. “Go to your room.”

“No.” She folded her hands tighter, thrust her chin farther into the air and tapped a foot. At that point she might have wanted to thank her grandmother for showing up unexpectedly because the kid had no idea how close to death she might be.

Alex set Josh down. Josh immediately tried to grab the gaming device, missed and managed to rake his nails across his father’s chin instead.

“Oh, he’s bleeding!” Nancy exclaimed. Her hand flew to her mouth as though taken aback by the level of violence. “Alex, what have you done?”

“He’s not bleeding,” Alex replied, disgusted with himself for letting things get out of hand. “I am. Becky. Room. Now.”

She glared at him, her expression mulish, her profile taut, as if she had a choice.

She didn’t.

“Becky, maybe if you apologize to your father...” Nancy’s unwelcome entreaty interrupted the emotional scene.

“Go to your room. If I have to carry you, you lose privileges for the week.”

“The week!” Stomp! Stomp! “Because he’s a brat? Because he takes things that don’t belong to him? I get punished because my brother’s a brat?”

“And we’re done.” Alex swooped down, picked her up, carried her upstairs to her room and left her alone to pitch a fit, which meant they’d be lucky to make the mid-morning service in ninety minutes. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Something sailed off the door. Alex reminded himself to be grateful for antique solid oak doors and hoped it was a softcover book. Hardcovers left bigger marks.

* * *

Engaging.

The Federal-style brick home epitomized grace, thought Lisa as she stepped out of her Gardens & Greens SUV. White-rimmed windows stood out against aged red brick. Evergreen shutters flanked sparkling glass, and each shutter featured Americana-styled inset stars separating the panels. A slate gray roof complemented the tones beneath, and shade trees, newly leafed, would offer welcome respite from summer heat.

Delightful.

Right until the front door burst open and a shrieking wildcat of a girl raced out, yelling naughty things over her shoulder. Delightful downgraded to wretched normalcy in the blink of an eye.

“Rebecca Eileen! Get back in here this instant, or I’ll—”

Alex caught sight of Lisa. Surprise and chagrin mixed on his features. His shoulders sagged. He stopped, ran a hand across his chin and frowned, but was the frown from his forgetfulness or the current melodrama?

Lisa wasn’t sure, but the look on his face said the morning couldn’t possibly get worse.

Except it had with her arrival.

Which only made the situation funnier in Lisa’s book. “Good morning, Alex. That, I take it—” she hooked a thumb to the right where a stubborn little girl, pigtails bouncing, strode down the street “—is Becky.”

“That’s her, all right.”

Memories split Lisa’s sympathies. She’d been the bullheaded one in the family, the scrapper, the fighter. Luckily she’d grown out of it, but maybe that doggedness helped her in her fight against cancer. Who could say?

Alex’s expression said he hated being caught with out-of-control kids. Embarrassment and irritation painted stress lines on features that had looked pretty serene yesterday. Lisa moved closer and made a face of sympathy. “I’ll come back another time. After you’ve had time to dispose of the body properly.”

“What!”

Another voice entered the melee, a female voice, shocked and chagrined.

Surprised, Lisa stopped.

Alex turned.

A little boy voice whined, “Do I have to stay in these stupid clothes another whole hour?” Only he stretched the word hour into four elongated syllables.

“Nancy, this is Lisa Fitzgerald from the nursery Emma was telling you about.” Alex offered the introduction through the screen door, so Lisa had no idea who Nancy was, but figured she must belong to the yacht-length elegant car in the driveway.

“Lisa!” Emma came around the side of the house, ran to Lisa’s side and hugged her around the waist. “I’m so glad you came. Becky’s acting like a—”

“Emma.”

“Well, she is, Dad. And Grandma’s here and we’ve missed church unless Dad makes us go to the other church where the screechy old lady sings songs I don’t know so we’ve just about ruined Sunday.”

Lisa looked at her watch. “You’ve got ten minutes to make it to Good Shepherd. Go.”

“Go?” Alex looked at her, confused. A questioning look took in the wayward child two houses down.

“Yes, go. If Becky wants to come, I’ll drive her over. If not, she can stew and be left behind. I guarantee she won’t like that scenario.”

“You’re right,” Alex admitted.

The smile she flashed him said she already knew that. “I’ll hang out here and get measurements. You may or may not see her in church, but my guess is a big, fat no.”

“I concur. Come on, Josh.” He turned, opened the screen door and picked up one of the cutest little boys ever to walk the face of the planet. “Lisa, Josh. Josh, Lisa.”

“Hey, Josh.” She smiled at him, gave Emma’s shoulder a quick squeeze, then paused when an older woman charged through the door looking ready to do battle with anyone in her way. Lisa wisely shifted left.

“You’re going to leave Becky here? To miss church? That’s not right, Alex, and you know it.”

“Better than having a meltdown in church,” he replied as he fastened Josh into the car seat. “And no reason to mess up everyone’s Sunday. You sure you don’t mind staying, Lisa?”

“I was going to be here anyway. It’s fine.”

Emma climbed into the back seat. “See you later, Lisa! Sorry about all the drama.”

Lisa laughed. “Oh, honey, I was eight once. I invented drama. You go. Be good. Pray. Sing. Cut your father some slack.”

“Nancy, are you coming with us or heading back to your motel?” Alex directed a no-other-options look to the older woman.

She pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her limited choices, then shrugged, moved to her car, climbed in and slammed the door shut.

Ouch.

She pulled out, turned left and headed for Route 19.

Alex backed out, and turned right toward Jamison.

Becky stared, mouth open, her gaze taking in the family car heading into the commercial center of the village, the stranger in her yard and her grandmother’s car growing fainter by the minute.

Lisa scored a point for the element of surprise, opened her no-line steno pad and started sketching the house layout. It took only a few moments before a small, impudent voice demanded, “Who are you?”

Lisa ignored her.

“I said, who are you?”

Lisa sketched swiftly, letting her gaze wander the home’s exterior. “Great brickwork,” she murmured, hoping her voice would ease the child’s ire. “And those shutters... Marvelous.”

“You like our house?”

Becky’s voice softened. Curiosity replaced anger in her gaze, her stature. “It’s lovely,” Lisa replied. “I remember noticing this house when I was about your age. They had the most beautiful gardens ever. Mrs. Ramsey knew everything there was to know about flowers and shrubs and trees. She even had a toad garden.”

Becky frowned, but drew closer. “A what?”

“A toad garden,” Lisa replied, eyes down, continuing her outline.

“What’s that?”

Lisa glanced at her watch. “Well, I’d be glad to tell you but aren’t you supposed to be at church with your family?”

Becky flushed, then sighed. “Yes.”

“I believe a deal can be struck, Becky Steele.” Lisa stuck out her hand. “I’m Lisa Fitzgerald from Gardens & Greens. Your dad and Emma came to see us about fixing these gardens.”

Becky nodded, excited. “We’re coming to see you tomorrow!”

Lisa sent her a doubtful look. “Do you think your father will bring you after this morning?”

The girl scowled, remorseful. “Probably not.”

“But,” Lisa went on, as if she had nothing better to do than drive disobedient little girls around, “if you go to church now and behave yourself...”

Becky gulped, shrugged and nodded.

“Maybe your dad will let you live.”

A smile blossomed on the little girl’s face. A small smile, one that said she might have discovered a kindred spirit in Lisa and liked the revelation.

“Shall I drive you over? You won’t be more than a minute or two late and if you promise to slip in quietly...”

“I will!”

“Good.” Lisa closed the steno pad with a satisfied nod. “I’ll explain about the toad garden when you get back.”

“Oh, thank you!” Becky turned, ready to go, then stopped. “Wait. Do I look okay?”

“Here.” Lisa straightened the girl’s red bow under a slightly mangled collar. “Much better.” Becky’s patent leather shoes bore smudges from toe-dragging along the sidewalk, but right now, having the kid turn her behavior around was clutch. Lisa climbed in, thrust the car into gear and drove through Jamison. She pulled up outside Good Shepherd and watched as Becky bounded up the steps. At the top, the girl turned and called out, “See you after church!” in a voice loud enough to interrupt the five concurrent services neighboring the Park Round.

Lisa put a finger to her lips.

Becky clapped a guilty but cute hand to an “oops!” mouth, then tiptoed through the door. All Lisa could do was pray she’d done the right thing.

Guilt swamped her as she turned down McCallister Street.

She’d flirted with Alex. Teased him. Acted as if everything was normal in her world.

It wasn’t, and between fighting cancer, being dumped then divorced, her brother’s wedding and her mother’s illness, she’d spent the last few years out of the dating loop, intentionally.

Alex Steele tempted her back into the mix, but how did a woman casually divulge that she no longer had natural breasts?

Awkward.

And the possible subsequent rejection?

That didn’t make the short list, ever again. Evan’s leaving had wounded more than her heart. It grieved her womanly soul, because part of her couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t signed on for damaged goods, a woman scarred and rebuilt. He’d vocalized his fears, that he couldn’t live with a ticking time bomb.

Lisa shared those fears with one major difference: she had no choice but to live with the threat of recurrence. She’d taken upper level statistics, she understood the theory of likelihood, but she’d lost that game once already.

No history of breast cancer on either side of the family: CHECK.

No detectable genetic markers making her a likely candidate: CHECK.

No behavioral choices that made her more susceptible to breast cancer: CHECK.

She got it anyway. Lisa swallowed a sigh.

She was doing fine on her own. Working, creatively running a great business and filling some of the void her mother’s death had left. Maggie Fitzgerald had been an avid volunteer, running school and 4-H programs. Lisa and Adam had the childhood blue ribbons to prove it.

But beyond that?

Lisa was better off keeping things with Alex Steele “business casual.” Safer for everyone, all around.

Chapter Three

“Hard at work, I see.” Alex softened the wry observation with a smile when he found Lisa lounging on his backyard swing after church. “Examining critical vantage points, I’m sure.”

He moved toward her, bearing gifts in the form of twenty-ounce to-go cups from the village café.

Lisa waved her sketch pad in protest. “Good landscape development needs to be considered from all angles and heights, including sitting. Is that coffee? Please say yes.”

He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like...”

“Cream, sugar, shot of caramel or chocolate.”

“The fact that you like frou-frou coffee is disadvantageous but I guessed correctly.” He settled into the swing alongside her as he handed her the cup. “And I bought a third one, plain, just in case. These days, guys need to cover all the bases.”

She made a face at him. “My coffee is not girly. It’s just delicious. And on a bad day I take an extra shot of espresso. Keeps me out of jail.”

“You understand I’m an experienced investigator, don’t you?” He made a warning face over the rim of his cup. “Anything you say may be used against you.”

She laughed. “Charges vary depending on the occasion. Where’s Emma?”

Alex waved his free hand toward the house. “I sent them to get changed. Which means their church clothes will add to yesterday’s clutter.”

“Because you were shopping for garden advice.”

He accepted that, bemused. “I won’t pretend I’m good at keeping up with things when I’m in and out. It’s easy on my days off. When I’m working we fall drastically behind.”

“Pay ’em.”

“What?” He turned more fully her way, confused.

Lisa lifted her gaze to the house. “Give them a generous allowance to take care of things. Josh is little, but Becky and Emma are old enough to understand responsibility, right?”

Usually he balked, affronted, when someone told him how to raise the kids, but something in how Lisa said it made him more open to the idea.

Or maybe because it was Lisa saying it... He’d examine that more fully later.

“An allowance. I tried that last year. Didn’t work.”

“For how long?”

He cringed, knowing he’d caved too soon. “A couple of weeks.”

Her expression called him out. Her eyes crinkled. He took a deep swallow of coffee and sighed. “How come you know so much about kids if you don’t have any, Lisa?”

“Times change. Kids don’t. My mother was good at setting the bar high but reachable. My brother and I learned to work and earn at a young age.”

“Adam’s a good guy.” That’s as much as he’d say because he realized yesterday that her brother was also a trooper, same area, different barracks. He’d heard nothing but good concerning the younger Fitzgerald. Solid cops employed a firm separation of work vs. home rule, but he’d have been foolish not to notice Adam Fitzgerald’s work ethic, his high “answered calls” rate. “Your mom paid you to work?”

“From early on. Of course that’s normal on a farm, but it taught us to respect time and money. If the kids have a list of chores, they can check them off each day and collect their pay at the end of the week. If things aren’t checked off, no money.”

It made perfect sense. And he had solid follow-through at work. Why was his follow-through more difficult at home?

Because he hated being the bad guy all the time.

Still, Lisa made a good point. A list, a visual... Becky and Emma might respond well to that. He nodded and sipped his coffee, feeling more at peace than he had two hours ago. A quiet church service...a few compliments on his children’s behavior from some sweet old folks...and now, coffee with Lisa.

He felt almost serene.

The back door opened and the kids streamed out, shouting their joy. Serenity gave way to mayhem, but in a fun way.

“Lisa, you’re still here!”

“Hey, Lisa, I was good! Will you tell me about the toad garden now?”

“Dad, can I have another donut?”

Josh’s face wore the white sugar remnants of his first donut from Seb Walker’s pastry case, and possibly the second if the telltale streak of chocolate meant anything. “I’m going to bet you had enough for now, bud. Let’s get you washed up, then you can play.”

“Lisa, were you able to sketch the garden?” Emma’s bright voice reminded Alex that Lisa had come to work. Even so, having her waiting in the backyard, looking spring-morning fresh when he first rounded the corner of the old brick house, made his heart surge with delight.

He tossed Josh over his shoulder, hauled him inside and scrubbed him clean. He put the donuts up high because Josh wasn’t above helping himself to a second brunch, then went back outside with the preschooler. This might be Emma’s project, but Lisa made it clear that the whole family needed to be on board.

Therefore, sitting in on her session with Emma should be considered a requirement. And that made his Sunday morning that much brighter.

* * *

Lisa needed to leave, ASAP. Before Alex came back with his adorable son, before Becky won her heart by trying so hard to be like her big sister, before Emma grasped her hand one more time.

She needed to leave while she could still control the temptation within, the urge to test the waters with Alex and his beautiful family.

Billboard-size warnings blazed in her head. She’d faced the dragon of cancer head on, out of necessity. She wasn’t a warrior or a hero. She had done what was required to live, but in this weathered yard she was surrounded by the reality of early loss. Three motherless kids. A widowed father. An empty seat at the table. A yawning gap in the car.

Inviting male attention was too risky. She needed to embrace that reality. She gave Emma’s shoulder a quick squeeze and moved toward the road.

“We’re all set? Already?”

The surprise in Alex’s tone stopped her. She turned and planted a smile on her face as he came through the back door. “You snooze, you lose.”

He didn’t feign the look of disappointment, but when she glanced at her watch, he nodded, understanding. “Duty calls.”

“Yes.”

“So. We’re on for tomorrow?”

The way he said it made their 4-H session sound like a date. It wasn’t. “Four o’clock.” She turned and shook Becky’s hand. “Thanks for turning things around, kiddo.”

“You’re welcome.” Becky’s smile and the grip of her fingers said she didn’t want Lisa to go.

Lisa had no choice.

“See you tomorrow, Lisa!” Emma grasped her other hand, then hugged her around the waist, and Lisa couldn’t resist hugging her back. Such a little thing. A hug.

But hugs came with great expectations sometimes, and Lisa wasn’t free to explore those.

Really? That’s what you’re going with? Her conscience prodded. Do you think you’re the only woman who’s gone through this?

No, but she knew the statistics. Better than they were a generation ago, but not great. Not when she held women’s hands in hospice on a regular basis the past few years.

On top of that, how did a woman bring cancer and loss of body parts into casual conversation with a man who appeared interested? Right now, she was an eighth-grader, tongue-tied and awkward.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” Alex turned, still carrying Josh. The four-year-old squirmed to get down, but Alex held tight. “You can’t be in the backyard without me, bud. Not until you’re bigger.”

“Stay with him.” Lisa stopped, faced Alex and put a hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “Give him some play time. He’s been so good this morning.”

“Mostly.” Alex head-bumped the impish boy. His grin made Lisa’s heart soften with yearning. Resolved, she resisted the urge to linger.

She raised her notebook higher. “Emma and I can plug this into the computer tomorrow and see what the landscape program suggests. Then we’ll refine it together.”

“I can’t wait.”

The way he said it...

Smiling. Deliberate. With his gaze trained firmly on hers, a frank invitation to think about him for the next twenty-eight hours...

Made her realize he wasn’t the kind of guy to be put off. And she liked that about him. But she wasn’t the woman he thought she was, and there was no changing that fact. She smiled, turned and headed for her car, sure he was watching this time, because when she climbed into the driver’s seat, he’d come around the corner of the house, just to see her leave. And his smile...

Bright. Wide. Engaging. His easy gleam drew her in. Now what on earth was she going to do about that?

* * *

Alex pulled into the garden store parking lot at 4:05 p.m. Monday afternoon. The traffic off I-86 had slogged with slow-moving tourists visiting the historic villages of Allegany County. Tourists who should be mandated by law to drive faster.

He swallowed a sigh.

Was he nervous?

Of course not.

Then why—

“Hey, guys.”

Not nervous, he decided as he climbed out of the car and answered Lisa’s smile with one of his own. Anxious. Anxious to see her once more. To smile at her.

The thought surprised him because he thought no one would ever appeal to him again. Not after losing Jenny.

But something in his stressed heart felt better whenever Lisa Fitzgerald came around with her saucy grin. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but now?

He grinned as Emma raced around the car in a desperate attempt to beat Cory and Becky to Lisa’s side. “They insisted on coming,” Emma explained, as if the younger girls were there against her better judgment.

“I do believe I invited them,” Alex corrected her. “And if they’re in the way, I’ll take them on a garden tour so you and Lisa can get your work done. And be nice.” He added the reminder with a lifted brow that said he expected more of her because of her age.

She made a face, impatient.

At him, a New York State police lieutenant. Did the child not realize he carried a gun twenty-four/seven?

He met Lisa’s look over Emma’s head and the sparkle in her eyes that laughed at him, the kids and the situation.

Said she was pretty confident he wouldn’t go to extremes without just cause.

“You got the measurements you needed yesterday?” he asked as the girls went ahead, oohing and aahing over the sea of unrelenting pink. Only today he barely noticed the calamine-lotion wash of shades, because Lisa’s nature compelled him to look at her. And that felt too nice to be denied.

“I did, yes.” She bent and picked up a stray piece of paper from the brick walk, stuffed it in the pocket of some well-fit jeans, and waved the girls to the right. “Head to the bushes first, ladies. I need your opinion on something.”

The girls led the way, Cory and Becky skip-running along, heads bent, giggling and laughing. Emma followed with just enough disdain in her bearing that it was obvious she’d outgrown such childish antics months if not years before.

“Emma was bummed that her time with you was cut short yesterday because of Becky’s tantrum. She made her pay the price for half the day.”

“Poor Becky.”

The direct look he sent her scoffed at her sympathies. “Poor Becky, nothing. Shouldn’t she have outgrown this by now?”

“Ah, she’s eight.” Lisa shrugged it off. “All kids are know-it-all brats at that age. It’s in the rule book.”

“Boys, too?” He looked her way, and she jumped at the chance to best him, and that only made him smile more.

“Boys are brats from day one. At least girls grow out of it.” She turned as they stepped onto the paved lot. “Although Josh has got to be about the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. With that shirt and tie he had on yesterday? Priceless.”

He decided not to tell her that taking Josh anywhere in a shirt and tie made them a total babe magnet. It wasn’t like he intended to use the cute kid to gain female attention, but he would have to be blind not to realize the effect. With Josh in a shirt and tie, women constantly stopped to exclaim how adorable he was.

Josh, not him.

But some of their looks said he wasn’t all that bad himself. Seeing Lisa’s sassy grin, he realized she’d appreciate the boy’s magnetism for the joke it was. Alex was pretty sure not all women would get that.

Jenny would have. She’d loved to laugh with him. She took his serious job and serious side and made their lives humor-filled and easy care. Right up until the day of her death she’d tried her best to fill him with warmth and laughter.

Much of the joy had died with her, but it didn’t feel that way today. Today he felt...better. Much better.

“Dad, can we go see the fountains? Please?” Becky grabbed Alex’s hand and tugged him left. “Do you mind, Lisa?”

“Not at all. Emma and I need to make some choices. Then I’ll input them into the computer program and see what it recommends.”

“The computer plans the garden?” Emma looked deliriously happy at the idea of a machine doing the work for her.

Lisa laughed. “It gives us a launching point. And the hard work is yet to come. Soil preparation, weed killing and planting, then mulching. Then watering and more weeding.”

“Good thing we didn’t plan a vacation this year,” Alex told Emma.

She nodded, serious. “It really is, Dad. The book from the library said new plantings require constant attention.”

Alex didn’t mention that he had no energy to plan a vacation after accepting this job with a new troop. Moving three kids. Buying a new house. Sorting. Arranging. He’d even gotten a few rooms painted on his days off.

Lisa put an arm around Emma’s shoulders and hugged her, laughing. “I love this kid. You go on and do whatever you’d like, because Emma and I can talk gardens all day and not miss you one little bit.”

He couldn’t resist the gold-plated opening. “Not in the least?” He held two fingers up with virtually no space between them. “The tiniest bit?”

Something changed in her eyes. A hint of warmth and understanding read his not-so-silent message that maybe he wanted to be missed. Just a little. And despite her shadowed reluctance, he thought she longed to play along. She sighed, glanced away, then drew her gaze back slowly. Very slowly, as if fighting reluctance and losing. “A smidge. Perhaps.”

“I’ll take a smidge. For now.” He let his gaze linger a few beats longer than necessary, letting her read between the lines, then smiled, grabbed the girls’ hands and moved toward the fountain display, whistling. He hadn’t felt like whistling in a long time.

But he felt like it today.

* * *

“Okay, we’ve got the basics.” Lisa hit the print button on her laptop. “Now let’s see what the computer gives us.”

The printer clicked, whirred and whizzed as it delivered multiple copies of the basic plan.

“Oh, Lisa, I love this.” Emma took the front view into her hands and her wide smile said they’d hit pay dirt. “I’ve never seen a prettier garden. Can we really do this?”

“If your Dad approves,” Lisa told her. She had gone with a medium level budget by downsizing the bushes and adding more annuals. Landscaping four sides of a house could be cost-prohibitive, and she didn’t want Alex to feel shackled to expensive ideas. With a young family, things had plenty of time to grow before he’d have to worry about graduation pics or prom nights in the garden, snapping pictures of Emma in a fancy ball gown.

“How’re we doing, ladies?” Alex’s voice pulled Lisa back into the present. She laughed and waved him in, then made a face at his empty hands. “Did you drown them in my fountains, Alex? Please say no.”

“Naw. They were good today so it wasn’t even a temptation, but thanks for the idea. I’ll keep it for future reference. Your sister-in-law...”

He arched a brow as if questioning the relationship or searching for a name. Lisa went to name first. “Caroline. Yes?”

“Took them for juice and cookies. That was after Becky noted how Emma got to come the other day when you were handing out freebies all over the place.”

“Caro’s a softie.” Lisa winked at Emma. “I’d have let them starve.” She turned her attention to the gardening layouts and handed a copy of the front and east side to Alex. “What do you think? This is without pockets of color from annual flowers.”

“And life as we know it would be remiss without pockets of color.”

She ignored that he was teasing her for her choice of words, and smiled. “Yes, it would. I love color.”

“Especially pink,” Emma added.

Lisa turned, perplexed, saw Emma’s gaze sweep the outdoor displays, and understood the girl’s assumption. Without pausing to consider the possible fallout, she took advantage of a God-given opportunity. “Oh, you think that because of our breast cancer campaign. I’m actually a bold color person myself. Reds, golds, fall tones. But when you’ve walked the walk, it’s important to join the mission to find a cure, right?”

Emma stared at her, confused. And maybe a little nervous?

Alex’s face stilled. He glanced around the office and paled, as if hoping he’d misheard. His crestfallen expression said he hadn’t.

Pictures of the Fitzgerald family throughout the last ten years lined the walls. Local commendations, benefits they’d hosted, people they’d helped, the growth of a family business chronicled a decade of success. But in the more recent area, photos of Lisa with the telltale chemo hats lined the wall with all the rest.

A part of her hated those pictures. Another part championed them as a battle won. And the extra curl in her current hair was an interesting change from the straight locks she’d had for twenty-eight years. Soft curls and waves? She didn’t mind them at all, but she minded the look that dulled Alex’s eyes. The pain she saw on Emma’s face.

Emma recovered first. “You had breast cancer?”

Always direct, Lisa refused to sugarcoat things. “Yes. Five years ago.”

“Oh, Lisa.” Emma reached out and took her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Lisa wouldn’t have expected grown-up empathy in ten-year-old eyes, but Emma was a one-of-a-kind kid. “Thank you, honey. As you can see, I’m doing quite well now.”

“I’m glad.”

Emma’s expression said more. Alex looked battle-worn and possibly shell-shocked, but Lisa had faced that reaction before. She’d seen it on her husband’s face every day for nearly six months, until he packed up, saying he couldn’t stand the idea of waiting around for her to die.

Yup.

She recognized the body language. And it still stuck a knife-like pain into her heart, because if the conditions had been reversed, she’d have stayed and fought with Evan.

“So.” She stood, handed Alex the four sheets of paper, handed a second set to Emma, and said, “Let me know if you approve this, Alex, and we’ll get things going. We’ve got a few weeks to get rid of old plantings and perennial weeds so we start out with good weed control.”

“Good weed control is important,” Emma told her father, repeating what Lisa had explained earlier. Emma didn’t appear to notice her father’s sudden silence. Lisa couldn’t notice anything else. “That makes our job easier in the long run.”

“Weed control. Dig up old stuff.” Politely dismissive, he held the papers up, moved outside, called for Becky and Cory to head for the car, and started toward the SUV. “I’ve got to get these guys home for supper. Thank you, Lisa. I’m sure this is all fine. I’ll get back to you on the details.”

Cool. Crisp. Concise. A business deal.

She felt ridiculously hurt, a ludicrous response, because she’d just met this man a few days before. Something in his face, the humor and warmth she’d witnessed made old wonders and wishes spring back to life inside her. And even though she couldn’t act on those feelings, she couldn’t deny it felt nice to be admired.

But he’d drawn the curtain closed on humorous repartee the minute he saw the pictures of her during her year-long fight. She’d refused to hide during chemo and radiation, and she’d scheduled her bi-lateral mastectomy for early January so she’d have plenty of recovery time without messing up Christmas-tree and wreath sales. She’d used all of her strength to battle this disease, and maybe win the war. Only time would reveal that.

She waved to the girls and walked back to the fountain area, avoiding Caroline and her father. They’d read her like a book. She needed a few minutes to recover, because somewhere inside her she’d known this would happen. Men didn’t want damaged goods. Alex was no exception. And while it shouldn’t matter, it did. And that came as a wake-up call.

She didn’t bargain on meeting Adam near the mulch station.

He and Rosie came around from the back barn. The toddler raced for Lisa, arms out, eyes wide, her broad smile easing the sting of Alex’s rejection. This was the reason she worked to raise awareness. So Rosie’s generation wouldn’t have to go through the rigorous treatments she’d undergone.

“What’s wrong?” Adam’s face said she hadn’t done a good job of hiding her emotions. Given five more minutes, he wouldn’t have been able to tell, but right now she was an open wound, raw and bleeding.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing when it makes you look like you want to cry,” Adam scolded in a none-too-gentle brotherly voice. “Who hurt your feelings? And where are they? I’ll punch them for you.”

“You can’t. You’ll get fired and then who will buy Rosie pretty dresses and fancy shoes?”

“You. You spoil her all the time.”

“Love doesn’t spoil children,” Lisa told him. She sighed, rubbed her cheek against the toddler’s soft, dark curls and shrugged. “I forget how cancer scares people. And then I see the reality in their eyes when they find out, and—”

“Alex Steele?” Adam interrupted her with a nod toward the road leading to town.

She nodded.

He rubbed his jaw, made a face and said, “Listen, sis—”

“It’s okay, Adam. I get it. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with those expressions before. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

“You don’t get it.” Adam looked torn, then lifted his shoulders. “I don’t talk about private stuff at work. None of us do. When we’re on the job, we stay on the job. Full focus. Troopers that lose their focus can get killed.”

She knew that. They’d buried a young trooper two years before, a victim of a hit-and-run driver on the Interstate while he wrote out a speeding ticket. Focus was clutch in police work.

“But I know this much—Alex’s wife died of breast cancer.”

Lisa’s heart gripped tight.

Her pulse bumped down, then up.

Realization made her feel foolish. She hadn’t seen revulsion in Alex’s eyes, on his face. She’d seen naked fear, a replica of the emotion she knew so well. Too well.

“She fought just like you did,” Adam continued. “I know this because one of the other guys that transferred in worked Monroe County with him. But we don’t talk about it. We just figured he could use some prayer. And moral support. It’s hard coming in as a boss in a new setting. Not all the guys are happy when outsiders are brought in. But we needed a new lieutenant in B.C.I., and Alex wanted a fresh start for his family. Something without reminders.”

He’d lost his wife, the mother of three sweet children.

He’d changed jobs.

Bought a new home.

While she was celebrating her possible full remission, he’d been dealing with the opposite image in the mirror, the aftermath of a killer’s success. His wife’s death. Why her? Why not Lisa? Why anyone?

“Oh, Adam...”

“Don’t tell him I said anything,” Adam instructed her. “I don’t want Alex to think I talk about him behind his back. Especially to my pesky, know-it-all big sister.”

“I won’t.” She set Rosie down, took the little one’s hand and moved forward. “But I’m glad you told me. Now I can be more sensitive to it if he lets me work with Emma on this 4-H project.”

“Lets you work on it?” Adam halted her progress with a hand to her arm. “You think he won’t?”

“If he doesn’t want reminders, walking into a place like this...” She waved a hand, pointing out the obvious. “Pink banners, pink flowers, pink hanging baskets and breast cancer information at every turn has to be like walking the plank. A slow and painful process.”

“Hey.” Adam turned her around and his no-nonsense cop face said she’d better listen up. “You do great work here. And it’s not like you guys are on different teams. You’ve just taken on the fight visibly, using the business to help raise people’s consciousness. There’s nothing wrong with that, sis.”

She knew that. And she wouldn’t change a thing, but now she realized why Alex looked war-torn on Saturday. And why the house of kids seemed chaotic on Sunday. And why he’d recoiled today.

She understood they were on the same team, in a way. But she’d survived.

His wife hadn’t.

And that made being on the same team unbelievably painful for him.

* * *

Alex glared at the clock, thumped his pillow twice because once wasn’t enough, then hauled himself out of bed the next morning. He thought he’d put sleepless nights behind him in Rochester.

Obviously not.

Lisa.

Cancer.

Pink.

The words dogged his morning routine. When Becky wanted milk, he gave her juice. When Josh whined about his game system, Alex didn’t even make the kid say please. And when Emma asked an innocent question about the start-up date for the garden plans, he’d snapped at her.

Right then he knew. He couldn’t do cancer again. He couldn’t do the watching and waiting. Not up close and personal. Never again.

He’d pray for Lisa’s continued good health from a distance. Which meant finding someone else to do Emma’s project, but even a small town must have more than one able-bodied gardener, right?

With that plan firmly in mind, he parked his car outside the Fillmore station house and strode in, determined. Jack Samson, a long-standing investigator, gave him a high-sign as he wrapped up a phone call. Alex approached him, a coffee cup in his left hand, his laptop bag in his right, and a self-made promise to push all thoughts of Lisa Fitzgerald aside, no matter how hard that might be. “What’s up, Jack?”

“Overnight grand theft of pricey gardening equipment.”

“Gardening equipment?”

“Well.” Jack raised his notepad and shrugged as he headed for the door. “Garden, farm, whatever. In this case it’s both because Gardens & Greens is a farm that’s a garden store, right?”

Gardens & Greens.

Robbed.

Lisa.

Alex’s heart did a double take. So did his brain. The thought that someone with ill intent got close to her. Close to her family...

Lisa.

He’d promised himself he’d stay away.

That pledge dissolved into dust at his feet as he hurried after Jack.

Jack turned at the car, puzzled. “You’re riding along?”

“Yes.”

The clipped word said Jack should leave it alone.

Jack did just that.

He nodded, climbed in and started the engine, but a tiny smile quirked the right side of his jaw, the only side Alex could see. “Okay, then.”

He’d accompany Jack, make sure everything was all right. That Lisa was all right. That no one was hurt. And then he’d leave.

One look at her face as they strode into the garden center office a few minutes later said leaving wasn’t an option. Knowing her past and seeing the pain of the present stamped across her pretty face, he longed to hug her.

He couldn’t.

His entire being yearned to comfort her, to pledge her safety, and yes, maybe even kiss that worry-furrow between her eyes, smooth it away.

Right now she looked like she could use a hero, but the cool look she passed over him as she locked gazes with Jack said he’d missed his shot by a country mile the day before.

Alex understood her reaction. He’d brushed her off when he found out she’d been sick, a coward’s choice. But the tables had shifted this morning, because someone had tried to hurt Lisa and her family.

Despite his promises to stay away, Alex had realized one thing: no one was allowed to hurt Lisa Fitzgerald. Ever.

Chapter Four

Sixteen hours ago, Lisa was pretty sure she wouldn’t see Alex again unless they passed on the streets of Jamison.

And here he was, a purposeful stride marking the reason for his visit. He looked...vigorous. Masterful. And completely unavailable.

Lisa trained her gaze on the slightly smaller, older man to Alex’s left. He stuck out a hand, first to her, then her father. “I’m Jack Samson. This is Lt. Steele.” He jerked his chin in Alex’s direction.

Ozzie nodded, polite, then shook Alex’s hand.

Lisa kept her gaze averted. The last thing she wanted to see was Alex’s pity. Or fear. Or repugnance. Therefore she wouldn’t look.

“So, what’s missing exactly?” Jack flipped open a small notebook and withdrew a pen.

“Our three-year-old Bobcat and a brand-new zero-turn mower.”

Jack whistled and arched a brow. “Ouch.”

“And then some,” Ozzie agreed.

Alex said nothing, but Lisa felt his gaze. She ignored the heat from his soul-searching gray eyes and reached across her desk. “Here are pictures of both.” She handed them over. The Bobcat was a simple advertising photo showing the T190 in all its pricey glory.

Alex eyed the small tractor and grimaced. “This baby is nearly thirty grand new, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Lisa replied without looking at him, but inside she wondered what he was thinking. How did she appear now that he knew she’d had cancer? That she’d gone through the same round of treatments his wife had endured with one major difference. Lisa was here to talk about it.

“And the mower?”

“It retails around seventy-five hundred new and we’ve only had it six weeks.”

“Show me where they were parked, Lisa.”

Her heart stammered.

Her pulse climbed.

She had to turn then, because Alex spoke directly to her. The take-command note in his voice said he’d done it intentionally, but Lisa didn’t take orders well. Or shift gears quickly. Until he’d walked through the office door moments ago, she’d shoved aside the needle-sharp brush-off he’d given her the previous day. At this moment, every fiber of her being wanted to shout at him, at cancer, at the unfairness of life in general. But she’d dismissed hissy fits as a pointless exercise years ago.

“I’ll show you.” She avoided eye contact by leading the way to the mulching/stone area. The narrow display paths didn’t allow the whole group to walk together. Jack and her father eased back.

Alex fell into step with her.

Was that chance? Circumstance? Planned?

It didn’t matter. She had health issues he’d faced and lost. End of story. Except his sidelong glances said the story might not be over.

But it was.

The fact that he smelled soap-and-water fresh made him seem approachable.

He wasn’t.

She’d seen that yesterday and his reaction to her battle dredged up too many memories of Evan’s recalcitrance. Lisa had no intention of stepping before the firing squad of rejection a second time. The first time had been circumstantial.

This would be deliberate. Therefore, stupid.

“They were parked back here yesterday.” Ozzie’s voice held regret. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Adam’s told me time and again to be more careful and I shrugged it off.” His pained look underscored his feelings. “I never thought someone would just pull in here and grab stuff while we slept right over there.”

Alex eyed the distance from the house to the barn. “Aren’t the newer Bobcats keyless, sir?”

Lisa cleared her throat.

Ozzie scowled. “Yes. I converted the starter because the keyless entry was a pain in the neck. But then if I kept the keys in my pocket, people had to come find me every time they needed to shift something.”

“So you left them in the equipment.” Alex’s observation held no judgment, but he quirked a smile to the older man, just enough to say he understood. “Adam will have a field day with that, sir.”

“Already did,” Ozzie agreed, looking pained.

Alex could tell that Lisa’s father was a great guy, not like that was a surprise. He’d known Adam for months. And now Lisa...

He longed to pretend she wasn’t there, a few feet to his left.

He couldn’t.

He wished he could turn back the clock sixteen hours and banter with her. Watch the way the sun danced off those dark curls, hear her heartfelt laughter with the girls.

That wouldn’t happen, either. His fault. But right now he had a job to do and that included keeping her safe. The thought that someone targeted her spiked his protective side. He swept a quick glance over the house and business. “Whoever it was knew what they wanted. And when and how.” He stared at the ground, then moved down the stone lot surrounding the barn. “It appears he came in along the grass to keep the noise minimal. And with the increase of traffic on the Interstate this time of year, we get used to engine noise and tune it out. It’s especially easy when you have fans or air conditioners running.”

“Frogs,” Lisa interjected.

Jack nodded. “Peepers.”

“Yes,” Lisa agreed.

“In English, Jack.” Alex had no clue what they were talking about, and he couldn’t bark at Lisa so Jack made a handy target.

“Lisa’s ponds. The trees surrounding the house and barns. The water spillways she’s created and the state-designated wetlands are over there. You could drive heavy equipment up and down this field at night right now, and no one would likely hear it. The frogs and spring peepers are that loud.”

Alex shifted his gaze to Lisa. A tiny smile softened her jaw...a sweet, touchable jaw that could go stubborn in a flash. “He’s not serious. Is he?”

She answered, but didn’t turn away from Jack. “He is. So hearing anything even with windows open is unlikely in May.”

Concern climbed a notch higher. “You don’t leave the windows open at night, do you? The correct response would be ‘no.’”

“To cool things down as the days get hotter. Of course we do.” She shrugged, ignoring his concerns as if he hadn’t dealt with every level of crime imaginable for the last fifteen years. “And last night was the first bogeyman in thirty-plus years, so I think the odds are with us.”

Except crime didn’t sleep. Alex knew that. And he understood her small-town cavalier attitude, but after last night’s theft, he figured a dose of reality might daunt her Sunshine Sue outlook.

It didn’t and that spiked an internal lecture he had no right to give.

He turned his attention to Lisa’s father. Ozzie still looked miserable and Alex understood the older man’s angst. Missing equipment at the height of their selling season? A rough go. “Have you called your insurance company?”

Ozzie shifted his gaze to Lisa, then shrugged. “If we make a claim this big, our rates will skyrocket. We’re hoping to find the equipment.”

“But...” Alex would love to find their stolen equipment and return it quickly, but the likelihood of that was slim and they had work to do. Wouldn’t calling in the claim make more sense? That’s what insurance was for, right?

“We’ve got an old small tractor in the barn,” Lisa explained in a cool, polite voice. “Not as useful as the ‘cat,’ but we figure it will buy us some time.” She addressed the group in general, not him specifically. They’d been there twenty minutes, and not once had she met his gaze.

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