Ruth Herne - The Lawman's Second Chance

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?”