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  “I’m not sure,” Melanie admitted. “Your dad’s going to help me figure that out.”

  “You probably need to grow some beans, too,” Jessie advised her. “There’s lots and lots of bunnies and I can’t feed ’em all.”

  Melanie chuckled. “I’ll think about that.”

  “I think we’re going to concentrate on flowers for Melanie’s garden today,” Mike chimed in. He glanced at her. “And maybe think about an herb garden.”

  Melanie envisioned how happy an herb garden would make Maggie. “Definitely,” she said. “Though I don’t recall my grandmother having one.”

  “You don’t have to recreate what she had exactly,” Mike said. “Gardens evolve over time. Personally, I like a combination of the beautiful and the practical, but not everybody cares about growing their own food or herbs, not when there are farmer’s markets all over this area offering fresh produce.”

  “I wouldn’t mind growing tomatoes,” Melanie said, thinking of how fabulous it would be to pick one for dinner and slice it to serve with mozzarella cheese and fresh basil, also from her own garden. Never mind that she was unlikely to be here when the time came to harvest the tomatoes.

  Mike gave her a lingering look. “There you go,” he teased. “You’re beginning to envision the possibilities.”

  “How long does it take for a tomato plant to produce its first ripe tomato?” she asked.

  “Sixty days or so, depending on the variety and the weather,” he replied.

  “Too long,” she said, unable to contain a sigh of regret.

  “Maybe you’ll decide to stick around.”

  She shook her head. “Impossible.”

  “You have a job to get back to?”

  “No.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s to stop you from staying till you pick your first homegrown tomato?”

  “I don’t have an endless supply of money,” she told him frankly. “Sooner or later I’ll have to go back to Boston and find another job.”

  “Find one here,” he said. “There’s lots of seasonal work, if you don’t want something permanent. Hell, Brenda’s always complaining that she can’t find good summer help for the restaurant.”

  Melanie laughed. “Yes, I imagine she’d be absolutely delighted to hire me, since we got off to such a great start.”

  “I could put in a word for you,” he offered.

  “Thanks, but if I should happen to decide to stick around, I’m capable of finding my own job. And having you intercede for me with Brenda would only add fuel to the resentment she already feels toward me.”

  “You have a point,” he agreed. “What field were you in before?”

  “My degree’s in marketing, but I took a job as a receptionist when I got out of college.”

  He shot her a disbelieving look. “How long ago was that?”

  “Not that long ago,” she said defensively. “I worked my way through college—waiting tables, as a matter of fact—so I’ve only been out a couple of years.”

  “You have a degree in marketing, but you’ve been working as a receptionist? Are entry-level jobs in marketing that tough to find?”

  “Actually this one was supposed to lead to a promotion, but it didn’t work out that way,” she said, unable to keep a defensive note out of her voice. She could hear how ridiculous it sounded that she’d wasted so much time waiting for the right chance to come along, instead of making it happen.

  The management at Rockingham Industries had dangled the prospect of a marketing position in front of her, but she realized now that she’d made herself all but indispensable as a receptionist, doing the job so well that they’d left her right where she was. Jeremy had repeatedly promised to remind the executives that she was a good candidate to move up into his department, but somehow it had never happened. What a fool she’d been!

  Fortunately Mike pulled into a parking lot at the nursery just then, so she didn’t have to try to defend her decision. She scrambled out of the car and would have gone on ahead, if Jessie hadn’t demanded that Melanie be the one to take her out of the car.

  Mike gave Melanie an apologetic look. “Would you mind? Once she gets an idea into her head, there’s no peace unless I go along with it. Some things aren’t worth arguing over.”

  “No problem,” Melanie assured him, helping Jessie out of the car. When the girl tucked her hand trustingly into Melanie’s, something in Melanie’s heart flipped over.

  “Can you help me pick out seeds?” Jessie asked. “I know where they are.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather have your dad do that? He’s the expert.”

  “I want you to do it,” Jessie insisted. “Please!”

  There was an unmistakable edge of hysteria in the little girl’s voice that caught Melanie by surprise. She glanced toward Mike.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “If you don’t mind taking her, it might be easier. I’ll fill you in later.”

  Melanie nodded. She smiled down at Jessie. “Okay, then. It looks as if you and I are on a mission, Jessie. Show me those seeds.”

  When Jessie tugged her off in the direction of the seeds, Melanie glanced back and caught Mike’s expression. He looked almost as bewildered and dismayed as she felt.

  “Over here,” Jessie said, giving Melanie’s hand another tug. “See? Look at all the pretty pictures.” She headed straight for a selection of vegetable seeds. She studied them as intently as another child might contemplate a video choice, then gave a little sigh.

  “Is something wrong?” Melanie asked.

  “I like these,” Jessie admitted, “’cause you can see what they’ll look like.”

  “Is there a problem with that?”

  “Daddy says the best ones are over there, in those bins,” Jessie explained. “There aren’t any pictures, so how can you tell if you’ll like them?”

  “Experience,” Melanie said. “I imagine farmers know which ones produce the best crops, so they don’t need to see a picture every time.” Melanie took her over to the bins of seeds. “See, right here it says these seeds are for Silver Queen corn. I’ve had that, and it’s the sweetest and best ever. I don’t need to see a picture to know it’s good.”

  Jessie regarded her with wide eyes. “We could grow corn?”

  Melanie laughed at her amazement. “If you have enough room in your garden, you can.”

  “Daddy never said that, and we’ve got lots and lots of room. I want some of those seeds,” she said at once.

  Melanie filled a small bag for her, then labeled it. “Now what?”

  “Read me another sign,” Jessie commanded. “One for beans.”

  Melanie found several bins of bean seeds and read the labels.

  Jessie peered at them worriedly. “Which ones do you think the bunnies will like best?”

  “I imagine they’ll be happy with whichever ones you choose,” she said honestly. “But I’d pick these.”

  “Okay,” Jessie said readily, reaching for the scoop and a bag that was way too big.

  “Whoa!” Melanie protested. “Not so many. You just need a few.”

  “But I told you, we got lots and lots of bunnies.”

  “Even so, a few seeds will give you more than enough beans.” She handed the child a small bag. “Fill this one up. Then let’s go and find your dad.”

  When they found Mike, he was pushing a cart overflowing with small plants and shrubs. Melanie eyed it warily. “You’ve gone a little overboard, haven’t you? We never talked about planting bushes.”

  He laughed. “I do have other jobs,” he told her. “Some people actually hire me to do this.”

  “Of course,” she said at once, chagrined. “Is any of that for me?”

  “I picked out some perennials for you. I went by what I saw in the picture. These are hollyhocks,” he said, showing her a half-dozen plants. “And summer phlox.” He gestured toward a larger plant. “Foxglove. And back here are some daylilies we can p
lant in clusters. It’s not much, but it’s a start. I didn’t want to get too much until we’ve cleaned out more of the weeds and gotten some decent topsoil in there.” He met her gaze. “What do you think?”

  “That I’m completely out of my element.”

  “Which is why I’ll be around,” he said. “That is, if you want my help.”

  She gave him a wry look. “I think we can both agree that it’s going to be a necessity. We’ll have to discuss your fees, though.”

  “No charge,” he said at once.

  “Mike, that’s not right. You’re a professional. I have to pay you.”

  He returned her look with a stubborn gaze. “Let’s just say you’ve earned at least one afternoon of my time.”

  She gave him a perplexed look. “How?”

  He nodded toward Jessie, who was sitting on the edge of the large cart contentedly counting out the bean seeds. “Keeping her occupied was a huge help to me.”

  “But all I did was help her pick out some seeds,” Melanie protested.

  “Which you apparently managed to do without her having a tantrum,” Mike said. “I’ve never once accomplished that. In case you haven’t noticed, Jessie can be headstrong.”

  “Most kids can be,” Melanie said. “It just takes a little finesse to work around that.”

  “Finesse and patience,” Mike corrected. “Sometimes I’m woefully lacking in both. Let’s just say I’m grateful and leave it at that, okay?”

  Melanie studied him and thought she detected sincere appreciation in his eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure she understood it, but it was clear he thought he owed her.

  “Thank you,” she said at last. “I know wherever she is, my grandmother thanks you, too.”

  He chuckled. “And Lord knows I can use an angel looking out for me. Now let’s pay for this stuff and get out of here while peace reigns.”

  “How about I treat us all to ice cream on the way home?” Melanie offered.

  Jessie’s head shot up. “Chocolate?”

  “If that’s what you want,” Melanie agreed. “And if your dad says it’s okay.”

  Mike grinned. “You’ll never hear me saying no to ice cream, especially not chocolate, right, Jess?”

  “That’s ’cause it’s the bestest,” Jessie said solemnly.

  “I agree,” Melanie said. She leaned down. “You know how it’s best of all?”

  “How?”

  “With hot fudge on top,” Melanie said.

  Mike groaned, even as Jessie’s eyes lit up.

  “Sundaes!” Jessie shouted.

  “You are cleaning up the mess,” Mike warned Melanie, his expression dire.

  “No problem,” Melanie said cheerfully.

  He gave her a long, hard look, then chuckled. “That’s what you think.”

  4

  Mike couldn’t get over the fact that Jessie seemed to have taken such an instant liking to Melanie. She’d been on her best behavior for most of the day. He knew from bitter experience, though, that her good mood could end in a heartbeat. Even as he parked in front of the ice cream shop, he had this gut-deep sense of dread that they were testing his daughter’s limits.

  Still, once Melanie had mentioned ice cream, there had been no way to bow out of the excursion gracefully. That would have caused a scene, no question about it.

  On the entire trip back to town from the nursery, Jessie had debated whether she wanted whipped cream and a cherry on top of her sundae. To her credit Melanie had shown endless patience with the drawn-out discussion. In fact, she’d seemed equally eager to decide on the merits of the extra toppings. Most people would have jumped screaming from the car after the first ten minutes. Hell, Mike was about ready to leap from the moving vehicle himself.

  “Have you two decided yet?” he asked hopefully as they went inside. Thankfully the weather was cool enough that not too many people were interested in ice cream to beat the heat. The three of them had the place almost to themselves. He’d been here far too many times when the line had been long and Jessie hadn’t been able to make up her mind which flavor she wanted. The decision-making process had taxed his patience, as well as that of most of the people in line behind them.

  “I’m having chocolate ice cream and lots and lots of whipped cream on my hot-fudge sundae,” Melanie said at once. “How about you, Jessie?”

  “Me, too,” The six-year-old responded eagerly, looking to Melanie for approval.

  “Good choice,” Melanie praised. “How about you, Mike?”

  Stunned by the success of her clever tactic, he said, “Let’s make it easy and make it three. You two find a table and I’ll get the ice cream.”

  “No way,” Melanie said. “This was my idea and my treat.”

  Jessie peered up at her. “But boys always pay when they take girls on a date, right, Daddy?”

  “This isn’t a date,” Melanie said a little too firmly.

  Her quick response made Mike all the more determined to act as if it were. “Close enough,” he insisted, then gazed into her eyes. “Unless you want to arm wrestle me for the honors.” He deliberately flexed his muscle, barely containing a grin as her eyes locked on his arm.

  “Show-off,” Melanie muttered, tearing her gaze away with unmistakable reluctance. “I won’t create a scene and humiliate you by taking you on.” She lifted her gaze to his. “But we will debate this later.”

  He nodded. He had a hunch he’d pushed the limits of her independent streak today. There was a spark of fire in her eyes that he’d never noticed before. He figured that had to be a good thing, given her apparent despondency and lack of interest when they’d first met, but it was probably something he didn’t want to stir up too often.

  Melanie led Jessie to a table and got her seated with an ease that once again surprised him. Maybe what Jessie had needed all along was a mother’s touch. Maybe he was the one at fault all this time, the cause of her tantrums. Lord knew he’d made a lot of blunders while he’d been getting a grip on being a single dad.

  But even as the thought occurred to him, Mike knew he was being foolish. Melanie was merely a novelty. She was giving Jessie the kind of undivided attention the child craved. His daughter’s good behavior had nothing to do with Melanie’s parenting skills versus his own, he reassured himself.

  But as reasonable as that explanation was, he still found it irritating that Melanie seemed to have some sort of knack for calming his daughter. Realizing he was actually jealous of the woman, instead of being grateful and admiring, he bit back a curse at his own stupidity.

  When he arrived at the table with the ice cream, Jessie was chattering like a little magpie about school and her friends. Mike learned more in five minutes than he had on a dozen rides home. Once again that nasty little trace of resentment crept over him, but he forced it back down and concentrated instead on his sundae.

  “I dropped it!”

  Out of the blue, Jessie’s voice rose to a wail, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop.

  “It’s okay,” Melanie murmured, wiping up the spoonful of ice cream that had fallen into Jessie’s lap before Mike could react.

  “No, it’s all ruined,” Jessie insisted, throwing her spoon across the room. “I hate ice cream.”

  She was about to knock her bowl from the table, when Mike snatched it out of reach.

  “That’s enough,” he said firmly.

  “But it’s mine,” Jessie screamed, trying to hit him.

  For just an instant, Melanie looked stunned by the unexpected burst of temper. Mike waited for her to announce a sudden need for a trip to the bathroom or some other escape, but instead, she calmly pushed her own bowl of ice cream away.

  “I’ve had enough, too,” she said as if more than half of her sundae weren’t still in the bowl. “Jessie, why don’t you and I go outside and wait for your dad?”

  Mike started to protest, but she gave a slight shake of her head.

  “Come on, Jessie. I think I saw some really cool books
in the store next door. Want to go look at them?”

  Jessie sniffed and blinked back tears, clearly torn between escalating her tantrum and the offer of a trip to the bookstore. She looked at Mike as if he might say something that would tilt the decision one way or another. Instead, taking his cue from Melanie, he simply waited silently for Jessie to make up her mind.

  Eventually she scrambled out of her chair and tucked her hand in Melanie’s. “Can I get a book about crabs?” she asked hopefully.

  “If they have one,” Melanie promised.

  Jessie beamed. “They do. It’s a whole series. I have two, but there are more.”

  “Then we’ll find one,” Melanie said.

  And then they were gone. Mike stared after them, not sure whether to sigh or laugh. He couldn’t very well allow Melanie to bribe his daughter every time she threatened to throw a tantrum, but he had to admit that it had worked like a charm just now.

  Or maybe it wasn’t the promise of a bribe at all, but simply the distraction. Melanie had taken Jessie’s attention off of her frustration and focused it on something else. Maybe there was a lesson for him in that, if he wasn’t too busy feeling jealous to learn it.

  He contemplated that as he slowly ate the rest of his sundae, barely tasting it but enjoying the brief reprieve. How had a single woman gained so much insight into his daughter in such a short time, when he spent most of his life being totally at a loss?

  It was the novelty of it, he concluded once more. It had to be. Melanie could have endless patience because this was the first time she’d had to deal with Jessie’s whims. His own patience was threadbare. Maybe he and his daughter needed to take more breaks from each other, but he’d avoided leaving her with sitters, mostly out of guilt. Without a mother in her life, Jessie needed his constant attention—or so he’d convinced himself. Could it be that he’d been wrong about that? Had she needed to be exposed to more people and more social situations than he’d permitted?