Chapter Twenty-Three #2
The children took to gardening with far more enthusiasm than he might have expected. They seemed to be enjoying themselves
as much as they might have at the playground.
Together they finished clearing out one small bed and were working on a second one when Rosie’s mother came out of the tiny
cottage where she lived, hobbling on her crutches. Sylvia looked delighted to see them all.
“Someone is having a party without me,” she said.
Zara giggled. “Not really. We’re helping weed so you can plant some new flowers.”
“I’m afraid my planting days are still a few days away,” Sylvia said, gesturing to her crutches.
“We’re helping Rosie plant flowers, Miss Sylvia. Not you.”
He was about to chide Finn for the familiarity when he remembered that Sylvia was good friends with his mother. The children
must have spent more time with her than he realized. They all seemed comfortable with each other.
“Oh, that makes more sense,” she said with a teasing grin. “Do you happen to belong to those fancy bikes I saw out front?”
His son nodded. “We’re going on a bike ride to Orca Park when we’re done helping.”
“That sounds fun. Let me guess. The purple bike is Zara’s and the big red bike is Finn’s.”
“No!” Fin chortled. “The red one is my dad’s. Mine is the green one.”
“Oh. I thought maybe the green one was your dad’s.”
Finn apparently thought it was hilarious to imagine his father riding the little green bike that was about half the size of
Andrew’s.
Rosie smiled, and Andrew could only assume she was creating a mental picture of him trying to work the pedals of the diminutive
bike with his gangly legs.
“You won’t believe this, but I just made a fresh batch of cookies. Would anyone out here want one? If it’s okay with your
dad, anyway.”
“I would!” Finn exclaimed.
“I could use a cookie,” Zara said more sedately.
“The only problem is that I can’t carry them out here with these crutches. Why don’t you both come help me? Maybe you can
also carry some lemonade out to your dad and Rosie.”
The children were enthusiastic about another opportunity to help, especially if it meant cookies. They followed Sylvia, chattering
away to her about the present Finn had made for Rosie and about the art camp they had attended.
After they left, Andrew was painfully aware that he was alone with her. Well, alone except for her chickens, a few dozen birds
singing in the treetops and countless bees buzzing from flower to flower.
“You really don’t have to help me. I appreciate the gesture, but I didn’t have that much left to do. When they come back,
we can plant a few token flowers and you can be on your way.”
“I don’t mind,” he said and was more than a little startled to realize he meant the words. He found something quite enjoyable
about being in this beautiful yard on a sunny afternoon, the scent of roses and irises mingling with the sea air.
“I really wanted to thank you,” he said. “Not only for helping me find Finn’s toy the other night but for the way you have cracked the whip on all the subcontractors. The progress has been unbelievable.”
“I can’t take all the credit for that. Bryce had everything in hand and was working hard to move things along. But I will
admit, sometimes the subs work faster when the boss lady tells them she won’t hire them for anything else unless they drop
everything and get this done.”
She had done that for him? He was both touched and gratified. “Thank you,” he said. “The kids are anxious to move into the
house.”
“I’m sure they are. I hope we’re on track to be done in about three more weeks.”
Even faster than he had hoped. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
“How is everything else going?” she asked, picking up her weed pile and carrying it to a nearby wheelbarrow.
“It’s good. The kids have been enjoying their various day camps. We’ve got one more this week, then I’m not sure what we’ll
do.” He paused, slanting her a sideways look. “I could use some advice, actually.”
“Oh?”
“I would like to hire someone to be a nanny-slash-housekeeper. Do you know anybody in the area you could recommend?”
She pursed her lips, considering. “Are you looking for a live-in nanny?”
“No. I was hoping for somebody who could mainly help keep the house clean, cook a few meals, pick up the kids, and be with
them for a few hours in the afternoon. Maybe three or four hours a day max. Maybe more, if the need arises.”
“When do you want them to start?”
“When the house is done. My publisher wants me to go on a book tour in a few months. My mom could handle the children by herself but it’s a lot to ask. I was hoping I could find somebody before I leave who could help her out.”
“I can’t come up with any names off the top of my head, but I’ll give it some thought. I do have a couple of workers whose
wives have talked about doing something outside the home, especially now that their kids are in high school. Let me ask around.”
“Thanks.”
“What did you do for childcare in Los Angeles?”
“We had a housekeeper who started right before Tracy was diagnosed with cancer. Vivian was a rock. We would have been lost
without her before and after Tracy died. But she quit about six months ago. Her granddaughter was born with some health challenges,
and she wanted to move closer to her daughter in New Mexico to help her out.”
“That must have been rough for the kids, to lose their mom and then someone else they had been close to.”
“Yeah. It didn’t help at all that we also lost everything familiar to a wildfire.”
Her eyes were soft with a compassion he wanted to lean into. “No wonder you picked up and moved, buying a house on a whim.”
“It wasn’t really on a whim. My mom was here.”
“Yes, but you bought the house without even seeing it in person.”
“Not my smartest move,” he agreed. “I think it’s working out, though.”
“You are an eternal optimist, Andrew Morgan.”
He laughed. “I do believe you are the first person in my life who’s ever said that to me. I’m usually a cranky, glass-half-empty
kind of guy.”
“I doubt that. You couldn’t write books about conquering evil and saving the world if you weren’t somewhat of an optimist.”
“An optimist who writes like he’s never even met a woman?” he said with a grin.
She groaned. “If there were ever five minutes of my life that I would like to scrub out of the permanent record, it would
be those.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep teasing you about it.”
She studiously looked down at the weeds she was yanking from the ground. “If you must know, I’m listening to the series on
audio again. I am either in a different place in my life—or perhaps knowing you personally changes my perspective—but I’m
very much enjoying them.”
He felt ridiculously flattered and also lost for words. “I’m so glad,” he finally said.
“I’m starting from the beginning of the series and listening straight through. I’m beginning to see why they’re so popular.
And it’s very obvious you have met a woman.”
Her gaze met his and the air between them seemed to crackle and spark. Andrew found himself leaning closer, drawn inexorably
to this particular woman, whom he found warm and kind and irresistible.
Her breath caught and her gaze flickered to his mouth. Andrew could have sworn time stood still. He tilted his head, about
to close the distance between them when he suddenly heard children’s laughter drawing nearer.
He managed to ease away from her an instant before the children came around the hedge.
“We have cookies and lemonade,” Finn announced. He held the cookies on a plate while his sister walked carefully toward them,
balancing two glasses.
Andrew reached for the lemonade and swallowed a long drink, wishing the iced liquid could cool the blazing desire that had built up in the few short moments the children had been gone.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Finn demanded.
“Delicious,” he assured his son.
Rosie, he saw, was taking several long swallows as well. Her face looked flushed, her eyes bright.
“Do you want a cookie?” Zara asked.
“I’ll pass,” Andrew said gruffly. “If you do want to help Rosie plant some flowers, we should probably do that so we can get
to the park.”
The kids’ faces didn’t look as if they wanted to leave but they put on their gardening gloves again and knelt to help.
After a charged pause, Rosie gave them instructions and while the three of them discussed the annuals she was using for color
in the garden, Andrew continued to yank out stubborn weeds, wishing he could yank out his attraction to Rosie as easily.
He could think of a dozen reasons why he should completely ignore the way his pulse leaped around her and his skin prickled
with awareness.
He liked Rosie Lucas immensely. She was kind, funny and intelligent. She had a way of making everyone around her feel at ease,
and she seemed to genuinely care about his children.
Plus, she was even more lovely than her garden on a sunny day, with a smile that left him lightheaded.
When the children had each planted six or seven small starts, he rose, brushing dirt off his pants.
“We need to get going,” he said.
The kids groaned in unison but to his relief they didn’t argue.
Rosie stood as well, her expression warm and genuine. “Thanks for the help today,” she said. “You’ve made a huge dent in my never-ending battle against these weeds.”
“Anytime,” Andrew replied, even though he knew he should grab his children and ride out of this lovely garden as fast as they
all could pedal.
Despite the confusing feelings swirling inside him, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed spending time with Rosie. As they said
their goodbyes and he herded the children towards their bikes, Andrew found himself already looking forward to their next
encounter.
He knew he should probably keep his distance, but something told him that staying away from Rosie Lucas might be easier said
than done.