Kathy Altman - The Other Soldier

“They got me on some medications. Beta-blockers, they call ’em. And the usual no-sodium bull—uh, crap. Maybe someday a pacemaker.”

“Is that where you were last Tuesday? At the doctor’s?” He gave her a sheepish nod. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You have enough on your plate, my girl.”

“My God, Harris, how do you think I would have felt if something had happened to you? You’ve been loading the truck and hauling compost and dragging around hoses. And all this time, any one of those things could have killed you.”

“Now don’t go mixin’ pickles with your peppers. Workin’ won’t kill me. It’s not workin’ that would take me out. I just have to know my limits.”

“And when were you going to let me know about these ‘limits’?”

“I’m lettin’ you know now.”

“Harris Briggs,” she whispered, and swiped a palm across her cheek. “How long have you known?”

He slapped his hands to his knees and pushed himself upright. “Coffee?”

“Is this why you’re so determined about Macfarland?”

“Partly.”

A lengthy pause. “How long is his leave?”

“Thirty days. Give or take.”

One month. How would she manage, even for one day, to be civil to the man who’d brought the worst kind of tragedy into her life?

She moved to the front window of Harris’s small brick house and shifted the drapes aside. But she couldn’t see anything other than Tim’s face.

She had a right to her anger. Just as she had a right to her grief. No one was going to tell her how she should feel.

But Nat had come downstairs that morning looking more rested than she had in months. Before sitting down to her cereal she’d handed Parker a list of strategies to keep the corporal from feeling lonely. At the top of the list she’d written “spend time with him.” Which Parker took to mean that Nat herself was feeling lonely. And no wonder, since Parker spent most of her time in the greenhouses or tending to greenhouse affairs.

But there was no money for extra help. And now Harris had admitted to a heart condition. They should both be spending more time with him.

Slowly she turned from the window. “After thirty days, then what? He’ll be gone and we’ll still be short-staffed.”

“Let me tell you somethin’, Parker Anne.” Harris stood behind his recliner, his hands gripping the padded back. “I love you like a daughter. Best thing that happened to me in a good long time was the day you moved up here. I realize it was all arranged before your husband died, but you could’ve changed your mind. And I thank God every day that you didn’t. You’re my family now, you and Nat. Don’t make me spend the time I have left doin’ nothing else but worryin’ about you.”

Her chest went tight. She smiled, but had a hard time keeping it in place. “You’d worry no matter what.”

“I know, I know, and there ain’t no use puttin’ up an umbrella till it rains.” He pushed away from the chair. “How about this. How about we take it one day at a time. With an extra pair of hands around you might actually make payroll.”

“Low blow, Briggs.” But an accurate one. She rubbed her forehead. She wanted to kick and scream and cry and pack up Nat and spend the next month camping out in the mountains.

Harris had been right to scold her for being selfish. Natalie had suffered enough. Did Parker really want to teach her daughter to be unforgiving?

Still. Thinking about forgiving someone wasn’t the same thing as actually forgiving them. That bit of wisdom might get Parker through the next thirty days.

She scrubbed her hands over her face, then followed Harris into the kitchen. Enough about her. “Does your heart condition have anything to do with why you’re not seeing Eugenia anymore?”

He stiffened but didn’t turn away from the coffeepot. “We were finished before then. And it ain’t none of your business why.”

“Fine.” She inhaled. “I don’t want you to come in today.”

He whirled around so fast it made her dizzy. Thank God the mug he held was empty. She held up a hand before he could start bellowing. “It’s only one day. Besides, I have a list of things you can pick up at Cooper’s for me.”

“Errand boy. That’s what you’re reducin’ me to?”

“You know better than that, Harris Briggs. And considering how long you’ve kept me in the dark about this, you’re lucky I don’t cut off your muffin supply.”

He did his best to look menacing. She refused to flinch, and eventually his shoulders sagged. He swung back to the counter and poured his coffee.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she ventured. “Between you and Eugenia. She really seems to like you.”

“She doesn’t like people so much as she likes doin’ for them.”

“What does that mean?”

“Never mind.” He handed her a mug and scowled. “Guess it’s too much for a man to hope you put chocolate chips in those muffins.”

Parker sighed. Subject closed. For now. She patted him on the cheek and reached for the napkins.

CHAPTER THREE

BACKING UP SLOWLY TO THE EDGE of the sidewalk, Eugenia Blue tipped her head and stared with satisfaction at the window display she’d spent most of the afternoon rearranging. Two mannequins wearing flowery summer dresses and wide-brimmed hats sat in an English garden complete with trellises, fake ivy and climbing roses. The plastic ladies leaned toward each other over a small round table, as if sharing a delicious secret. A porcelain tea set completed the picture.

Not bad. Not bad at all. Less than a year ago she’d been holed up in a ridiculously lavish condo in New York, licking her wounds after a brutal divorce. Now she’d established not only a home but a business in small-town heaven, where no one expected her to host parties for lecherous business associates or threatened to withhold sex if she gained five pounds.

She loved having her own shop. The hours were long but the freedom of being her own boss more than made up for it. Eventually she’d have to hire some help, but not until business picked up. Six sales a day wouldn’t pay the bills.

Especially if she continued to raid her own stock. She looked down at her sweater set and gave a mental shrug. Who could resist cashmere? And in lavender, no less? Besides, creating such an eye-catching window display deserved a reward.

“You’re looking pleased with yourself.”

She turned. Joe Gallahan sauntered toward her, zipping up his light jacket against the late-morning chill. Her lips curved automatically as they always did whenever she saw Joe. With his slow, sexy smile and construction worker muscles, Joe could make any woman brighten. Though every now and then she did catch a hint of something dark in his eyes. Something more than sadness. Something that made her wonder how he’d ended up in Castle Creek.

Something that was none of her business.

“Hello, Joe. What brings you into town?”

“The usual.” His smile turned wry and he nodded across the street at the hardware store. “Seems I spend more time at Cooper’s than at the motel these days.” He gestured at her window. “Looks great.”

“Thank you.”

“Still on your own here?”

In more ways than one. “For now.”

“Guess that means you don’t have a lot of spare time. I know how it is, trying to run your own business. But I’ll ask anyway. How about dinner some night?”

Eugenia’s eyebrows went up and her jaw went down. According to the dressing room gossip she couldn’t help but overhear, Joe didn’t date much. Didn’t do much at all, besides work on that motel and play whatever sport was in season.

With all the women in town dying to snag his attention, why ask her?