Is he that way with you?
Mrs. Riddle sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. Mr. MacKinnon. Do I strike you as the nature of woman who would make an adolescent boy stutter?
Tucker readily recognized there was no possible way he could answer that. Admitting she looked like an army tank didnt seem the right thing to mention. She ruled with an iron hand. Kids came out of her class thrilled to be freebut by reputation, they all considered they learned the most from her compared to the easy teachers. Anyway he had to admit he understood what her concern with Will was about.
Tucker abruptly recalled the last time theyd stopped for burgers and fries. Will had tripped over a chair looking at a pigtailed tween on the other side of the room. So yeah. The kid had turned into a bumbler with girls.
Tucker got his sons report card and clipped out of the classroom, feeling edgy and frustrated. How was a father supposed to fix something like that? Sure, Will had a shy side with girls. But he was ten. Every boy had a bumbling stage around girls when they started adolescence.
Still, there was a nick of truth that bugged him. Will really didnt get exposed to many females, because of their lives, and Tuckers job, and where they lived. That never seemed to matter before. Will was a happy kid. Now, though, Tucker could see how a guy-dominated environment could add up for Willparticularly since the only relevant female in his life, his mother, was hardly a role model.
Still how to approach this topic with his son? And what would he tell Will about the meeting with his teacher?
He whipped around the cornerand charged smack into someone leaning against the wall. Or not someone. Her. Peties mom. Garnet.
While Pete needed a stop in the boys bathroom, Garnet leaned against the cool wall and closed her eyes. She replayed every second of her conversation with Mrs. Riddle. Then did it all over again.
The lump in her throat refused to disappear.
Shed always been a marshmallow. A soft, peace-loving marshmallow. Confrontations always gave her nightmares.
Still, where her son was concerned, Garnet could change from happy wallflower into riled-up mama porcupine in two seconds flat. Nobody hurt her son. It was hard for her to hear even the smallest criticism of Petie for the obvious reason.
He wasnt just the best thing in her life. He was the best kid in the entire universe.
For Mrs. Riddles sake, the teacher was lucky she hadnt picked on Petie.
Instead, shed picked on Garnet.
Normally Garnet was braced for criticism. Lots of people had found fault with herparticularly in her own family. Lots of people claimed shed disappointed them. But no one had ever suggested that she wasnt a good mother. At least before today.
Garnet still had the lump in her throat, the stab in her heart. Mrs. Riddle hadnt exactly said that she was an inadequate mom, but shed implied it. A boy needed male role models. Shed failed to provide them. And that didnt bite just because the teacher said it. It bit because Garnet had worried about the same darn thing for eons now.
Absently she lifted a hand and immediately discovered a ragged cuticle.
Dang it. She loved working with dirt. Dirt, herbs, spices, flowers, plants of all kinds. But she always wore gloves when she was working outsidenot because she was vain about her hands, but because of this. The instant a nail split, or a cuticle got ragged, she couldnt stand it. She had to fix it. She couldnt think with a frayed cuticle.
She was just biting the offending cuticle when a Mack truck ran into her.
The air whooshed out of her lungs. Her head hit the cement wall at the same time the Mack truck tire connected with her foot the vulnerable, naked foot in the green Teva sandals.
Aw, hell. Aw, hell. Im really sorry. I wasnt lookingare you all right?
If she were unconscious and in a coma, shed have recognized that low, wicked baritone. Tucker. Tucker MacKinnon.
It just wasnt fair. Being hit with a real Mack truck, she could have coped with. Freight train, no problem. Bulldozer, ditto. Anything or anyone but Tucker.
He was undoubtedly trying to help, by steadying her, then rushing his hands down her arms, his gaze searching, seeking any injuries. She certainly had some. The back of her head was gushing something warm and wet, and so was her right foot.
None of the injuries were lethal. She was just going to be stuck with a couple of bruises. He was big; she was small. That was the total equation. Its just that if she had to have an accident, she wished it could have happened with anything but Tucker. Anyone but Tucker.
Im fine, she said. Although temporarily she was pretty sure her right foot was broken in fifty or sixty places.
You cant be fine. Youre not fine. Damn. The back of your heads getting a goose egg, and theres blood.
Undoubtedly. Shed scraped her head against the cement wall. Something had to give, and it hadnt been the wall.
Let me see. His eyes were suddenly close enough for her to experience that electric-blue color close up. The schools so deserted I just wasnt expecting anyone to be there. I was waiting for my son, thinking, not looking where I was going. Listen
After checking out her head, his hands cuffed her shoulders again. He was still squinting. Still searching for injuries. She was still dying, but more from embarrassment by then, particularly when he hunkered down.
Broke your big toenail. He winced in sympathy. Just hope I didnt break a toe. Or two.
He had. But who cared? Once the football hero of the countythere was no one in the county who didnt know the MacKinnon nameand he was kneeling at her feet. Im sure you didnt.
How about if you just sit down right here, in the hall. Ill run into the office. They have to have some Band-Aids and first-aid supplies around here. Again, he tilted her head, not to look for injuries this time. He met her eyes. Garnet, I couldnt be sorrier.
Its okay. Honestly. Dont bother. Ive got first-aid stuff at home.
Hed always made her nervous. It wasnt his fault, nothing he did. It was her. Shed always felt goofy around him. Drawing attention to herself over a hurt only made it worse.
Nonsense. You dont want to trail blood into your car. And I think we should get some ice on your head. Just hold up. Ill be back in two shakes.
Hed barely taken three strides before Pete charged out of the boys bathroom, saw her and sprinted over. He seemed to recognize Tucker as an afterthought, and immediately frowned. Mr. MacKinnon. Did you hurt my mom?
No, Pete. Well, yes. I mean, I did, but it wasnt intentional
Pete, Im totally okay.
Pete, even if he was built on the small side, could turn more protective than a marine. He pushed his round glasses higher on his nose and faced Tucker. Why would you hurt my mom? What happened?
The commotion must have been heard from a distance, because from the office hall, Tuckers tall son suddenly charged into view. Dad. Hey. Whats going on. Mrs. Cattrell, how come youre bleeding?
Your dad hurt my mom, Petie informed him.
Wills jaw dropped. No way.
Just look at my mom if you dont believe me. Shes bleeding all over the place.
But my dad would never do anything like that. Thats dumb.
Tucker had to raise his voice to be heard. Boys. Both of you. Go to the office. Ask for a first-aid kit and an ice pack.
Both boys laid out an okay and galloped together down the side hall, looking a lot like Mutt and Jeff. Garnet wanted to echo again that she was fine, and just wanted to go home, but it was like arguing with a freight train.
Tucker hunkered down again. I know. Youre going to live. But it wont kill you to have those two places disinfected and covered up.
I know. I just hate
His tone changed, turned quieter. Garnet. I heard what Mrs. Riddle said about your Petie. And this is obviously a poor time to pursue the subject. But I think we might both benefit from talking together.
Talk about ?
My Will. Your Pete. He hesitated. Its probably easier for me to get away than you. I could steal an hour around seven tonight. You free then?
Free was a relative word. Like the song said, freedom was just another word for nothing left to lose, and looking at Tucker, Garnet knew perfectly well that she had a ton to lose by spending any time with him. Her dignity although shed already lost most of that, by bleeding all over the school hall. Her pride though, she still had her pride. Something shed guarded tighter than gold for the last few years.
I just want to talk about the boys, he said. A half hour? Your place?
The boys. Truth was, she wouldnt mind talking about Petie. If there was an alpha male in a three-state radius, it was Tucker. After Mrs. Riddles comments, Garnet really wouldnt mind hearing his opinion.
A half hour, she conceded uneasily.
He smiled. A smile that knocked her common sense to its knees.
And then the boys descended on them, carrying a pan of water, most of which sloshed onto the floor, an ice pack, a brown bottle of betaine and a giant first-aid box. The principal and school secretary trailed right behind the boys.
Garnet closed her eyes and wished she could click her heels together three times and land in Kansas. How much worse could a bad day get?
Chapter Two
Apparently the day could get much, much worsebut Garnet couldnt guess that. Initially the drive home from school lifted her spirits.
On the third turn, she saw the sign for Plain Vanilla. A quarter mile later, blacktop turned to gravel, and the hot, brilliant sun disappeared, turned into the fragrant shade of pine forest. One more turn in the road, and her pride and joy came into view.
Petie scrabbled from the old van in a flash. Once hed seen his report cardall As except for a C in gymhe never asked another thing about her meeting with Mrs. Riddle. School, schedules and the Mrs. Riddles in his life were now completely forgotten. All those academic As had earned him the right to download the latest game he wanted.
Garnet climbed from the van more slowly. Her right foot was still smarting, her head doing an annoying little throbbut she didnt really care. She took a long, lazy moment to cherish the view.
Her five acres had been scrap-scrub when she bought them six years before. No one thought she could make anything of itespecially not her parents, and heaven knew, she had a long, long history of disappointing her family.
Plain Vanilla had been the straw that broke the camels back.
It had almost broken hers.
Four customers were parked below the shopnot bad, for midday on a Thursday. Nothing about Plain Vanilla was fancy. The building had shake-shingle siding, with a long overhang for a traditional country-style porch. Unless a serious storm threatened, the double screen doors were kept open and welcoming. Pots of herbs and flowers added color.
The parking lot was known to get a little weedy, but she could already inhale the scents emanating from the shop. Basil and chives. Lavender and vanilla. Scents hung low in this tuck of valley. So, of course, did the heat.
Her bungalow was invisible from here, behind the shop, but to the right stretched open groundthe hodgepodge of raised beds and climate-controlled greenhouses where she grew her own herbs and spices. Two years ago, sheand the bankhad added horizontal blinds that could be opened or closed, to protect the plants from too much sun.
Except for the fancy blinds, shed made everything herself. Thered never been money for professionals but shed had two staff from the start, primarily because she couldnt work 24-hour days and handle Petie, especially when hed been little.
And from inside the shop, she suddenly heard two womens voices and suspected her son had tattled about her being hurt, because two bodies hightailed down the porch steps faster than she could run for cover.
Mary Lou was somewhere between fifty-five and ninety-five, tougher than beef jerky, and looked it. Her health was precarious, not that shed admit it. Garnet had discovered her five years ago, when Mary Lou had shown up at the back door, fixed her with a scissor-sharp scowl, said her husband was dead, she was bored out of her skull, and she needed to work, no wages needed, just a job.
Garnet had hired her and never looked back. If a thief ever came around, Mary Lou would probably scare him to death, and heaven knew she was a worker.
Garnet! Peter said you were hurt! Who did what to you, you tell me right now!
It was just a couple of bumps, absolutely nothing.
Mary Lou frowned, but then immediately went off on her own bumps that day. Well, this morning was a blinger. First off, the postman forgot to leave me stamps and I was going to pay bills. Then Georgia Cunningham, she came in, bought fifty dollars worth of all kinds of things, put two twenties on the counter and left. Just like that. I was going to call the police, but then I thought Id wait until you got home. But I think she should spend the night in jail, myself. Ten dollars! She cheated us of ten dollars! I never
Then it was Sally, striding right behind her. Peter said there was a man who knocked you down
It was a complete accident. No biggie. Whats wrong?
Sally had dark caramel skin, hair done in dreads and a perpetual frown that did a great job of concealing a gorgeous face. She had two kids and a no-good husband. She worked like a fiend, loved the plants as much as Garnet did and could stand up for herself anywhere she needed toexcept at home.
Garnet could tell when her jerk-water husband had done something because Sallys hands would start jittering; she couldnt stand still.
I got a rash on the lavender.
Which one?
The French blue. Theyre just speckles on the leaves, but they werent there yesterday. Ive been trying to look it up. We dont want it spreading. But you know me and reading those stupid manuals
I know. Its okay. Well go check it out.
And that was how it went, one crisis after another all afternoon. Early on, she hustled home to talk to Peteand to make sure hed had lunch. But of course, being Petie, hed made himself a sandwich, cleaned up and naturally parked in front of his computer a water-cooled system that hed put together himself last Christmas.
She ruffled his mop of brown hairhair so luxuriously thick she was jealous of it. He was scrunched up in his computer chair, imitating a human pretzel. Hey. I didnt get a chance to tell you what Mrs. Riddle had to say.