A little boy in need...could unite two broken hearts.
About the Book
After her business goes under, Torryn Emerson is only too happy to return to her hometown and restore the house left to her in her mother’s will. She never expects to find friendship next door. Matthew Lawson finds it difficult to connect with his young son after his wife’s death. So when Connor is drawn to their fun-loving neighbor, Torryn, Matthew asks for her help. As they spend more time together, Torryn can’t help but fall for the little boy and his father…but can they overcome past hurts to become the family they need?
Chapter One
One of the biggest luxuries of being in business for yourself and living in a small town like Ryder Hill, Delaware, was that you could take your child with you to work, and no one would think anything of it.
After his wife, Eloise, had died from MRSA two years ago, Matthew Lawson struggled with being a single father to his now four-year-old son, Connor. If it hadn’t been for his mother, Peggy, he didn’t know how he would have managed. But unfortunately, it seemed like he was about to find out. His mother had left for Florida the day before to care for her ailing sister, so Matthew had lost Connor’s sole caretaker.
Leaning against the white countertop in his kitchen, while Connor ate his strawberry and cream oatmeal for breakfast, Matthew gripped its beveled edge as he pondered his situation. He needed to seek out a replacement babysitter because as the town's leading estate attorney, he had just accepted a big case that could go to trial and he couldn’t take his son to court. He glanced out the large bay window past his backyard and groaned at the overgrown grass of his neighbor's yard before redirecting his vision to the white cabinetry with carved trims that Eloise had special-ordered yet never fully enjoyed.
He sighed. Everything was so much different now that she was gone.
"I'm finished Daddy," Connor said, seated on one of the four stools around the oversized kitchen island. Matthew looked at his watch and shoved off the counter. His appointment should be arriving soon.
Matthew’s heart expanded at the sight of his son’s stocky body, the shock of brown-and-blond curls and those hazel eyes, which peered back at him with such trust.
“Okay, we've got to get going, buddy. Put your bowl in the sink.”
He washed Connor’s hands and then inspected his son’s outfit. He had dressed Connor in a pair of khaki shorts and a blue and white checkered shirt. Almost an exact replica of what he was wearing, except he had on pants. Seeing no stains, they headed out the front door. Sweeping his gaze across the neat lawn, rounded boxwood shrubs and Japanese maple, he eyed the flower bed. He needed to work on pulling those weeds.
Just then, a cyclist swerved to a stop next to his vehicle. Taking off her helmet, she tossed her strawberry blond hair streaked with gray before saying, “Hey, Matthew. I'm glad I caught you. I left my key on your kitchen counter.”
“Ms. Anna!” Connor squealed.
“Hello, Anna,” Matthew said, greeting his housekeeper, a retired pulmonologist. Anna had a car but preferred to ride her bicycle to his home since she only lived a couple miles away. “Yes, I put it on the key rack for you.”
She had rung his doorbell a month after his wife's passing and had said, “My rates are good and you're going to need me.”
And she had been right. He had hired her on the spot and had no regrets. If only Anna's services extended to child care. Matthew retraced his steps to let her inside his home.
“Thank you." She gave Connor a tight hug. “See you later, Little Man.”
“Bye, bye, Ms. Anna.”
Making his way down the paved driveway once more, Matthew settled Connor into the booster seat in his black Ford Expedition and headed to his office. He put on some children’s music to entertain his son during the twelve minute ride to his office located in the heart of the town.
Connor was busy singing along, moving his body to the tune, leaving Matthew free to worry about his lack of a babysitter. Should he have his administrative assistant rearrange his appointments for the next few days? He rubbed between his eyes, feeling every day of his thirty-six years. Connor bellowed out the final word of the current song, which made Matthew smile and hum along. Connor stopped singing and looked at him, unsure.
Matthew tensed. “It’s okay, buddy. You didn’t have to stop singing.”
Connor dipped his chin to his chest. “I know, I just…”
“You just what?”
“Nothing…”
Gripping the wheel, Matthew hated how his communication with his son was so stilted, unnatural and awkward. He wiped his brow. He was a master at talking to people and adept at handling emotional situations. His job as an estate attorney required a certain skill set that worked with everyone but his own child. Connor only clung to him when he was around strangers or scared. The rest of the time, his son appeared uncomfortable to be in his presence and Matthew had no clue how to fix that.
When they arrived at his office, Connor maintained a tight grip as they walked up the gravel path and ventured inside. As he stepped through the door, the light lemon scent teased his nostrils. Judging by the fresh lines on the carpets, the large sparkling windows, and dust free ceiling fans indicated the cleaning crew had dropped by the night before. The yellow fabric chairs, the coffee table equipped with a charging station and the tea and coffee station made the reception area inviting along with the smiling face of his assistant. He greeted her with a wave, eyeing one of Eloise's abstract paintings behind her desk, before making his way into his private space, which consisted of his oak desk with a makeshift play area for Connor behind him, a conference table, and a large SMART board.
He took a few minutes to set them both up for the day reminding Connor to play quietly with his action figures and LEGOs while he welcomed his first client of the day.
By the end of his third appointment, Connor had gotten a dollar and a lollipop from Matthew’s clients. His son had built a fortress and was enacting a scene with himself as the superhero.
Before Eloise’s passing, Matthew had been too busy building his business to spend much quality time with his family. It was something he deeply regretted now that his wife was gone. But he had no idea how to mend that bridge. Especially when it came to Connor. If it hadn’t been for his mother and his faith, he would have sunk under the weight of his grief and despair.
As it was, he had shied away from attending church services, not wanting to see the pity on everyone’s faces.
Connor let out a giggle.
Turning his head to glance at his only child, Matthew smiled. Connor lifted his head to look at him before returning to his toys. Grey eyes were a heritage of most of Matthew’s relatives who lived in Accra, Ghana. Connor’s pupils were hazel like his mother’s. That difference in eye color sparked the debate around Connor’s paternity with his mother and his Nana Afia. In a moment of weakness, he had confided that Eloise had had a brief affair during a weekly video call with his Nana who had then told his mom. Now, they were pushing Matthew to find out the truth.
He didn’t care or need to know. In every way that mattered, Connor was his son. Case closed. But when his mother had mentioned the possibility of Connor needing a blood transfusion or something, he had caved and gotten a DNA test.
The results had come yesterday, but he hadn’t looked at them yet. His mother had been on the phone with him for a good two hours trying to convince him to open the letter.
With a sigh, Matthew turned to look at the clock across the room.
It was almost time for the Emerson siblings to arrive for the reading of the will of their adoptive mother, Ruth Emerson. Theirs was his last appointment of the day. He moved from behind his desk and walked over to the conference table to retrieve the remote. Then he pressed the start button to turn on the SMART Board. He would mirror the document from his computer to the screen so that he could provide any explanations if needed.
Ruth had shared that her baby girl, Torryn, was spunky and resourceful which was why Ruth had been sure Torryn would be up the task she needed her to do. Ruth had also stated that Torryn tended to ask a lot of questions. But he was prepared.
After pressing the intercom, Matthew asked his assistant to bring in the folders for the Emersons, along with bottles of water and a few of the homemade chocolate cookies with caramel she had brought in.
Suddenly, he heard a thud, then Connor ran over to him. He must have dropped his toys when he saw the cookies. “I want cookie, Daddy,” he said, having inherited Matthew’s love of sweets.
He placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder to keep his son from snatching one of them. “These are for Daddy’s clients. How about some nice crunchy grapes instead?”
Connor pointed. “Can I have the cookie? Please?”
“It’s may I have the cookie.”
Jumping up and down, his eyes bright, Connor said, “May I have a cookie, please?” He pointed to the largest one. “I want that one.”
Matthew couldn’t resist that little face with those chunky cheeks. Matthew wrapped the cookie his son had asked for in a napkin, then gave it to him, along with a bottle of water. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin Connor’s appetite for lunch. Then again, his son was always hungry. Just like Matthew had been at that age, according to his mom.
Hearing voices outside his office, Matthew checked the mirror to his right to make sure he didn’t have anything in his teeth before buttoning the top button of his dress shirt. He had worn short sleeves this morning, since the temperature was in the upper seventies—awesome for mid-May—and he wasn’t due in court today.
The Emerson siblings entered and Matthew greeted everyone and gestured for them to sit around the conference table. Once seated, the trio introduced themselves. Though they were very different, Matthew could see shared physical traits that showed they were biologically related as well as being adopted siblings. Tess was the eldest and petite. Even with her heels, Tess barely reached her brother’s chest. Nigel, who was bulky and broad-shouldered, eyed him with a slight frown, and then there was Torryn. The photos of Torryn that Ruth had shown him didn’t compare at all to the real thing.
She was beautiful.
As soon as she sat down, Connor called out, “You look like my Mommy!” then rushed over to Torryn and jumped in her lap. Torryn froze, her mouth hanging open.
Matthew felt his cheeks burn. “Please, forgive my son,” he said, then he called to Connor, who was now playing with her hair.
She waved a hand. “It’s quite alright. He’s adorable.”
Torryn did look a bit like his late wife. Both women shared the same large eyes and high cheekbones, though Eloise’s face had been more rounded and Torryn’s was more angular. And her eyes had been hazel, while Eloise’s were a light shade of brown. And, of course, there was the difference of their skin tones. Eloise had been white, while Torryn was the color of smooth caramel.
But unlike Eloise, who had barely topped out at five feet, Torryn was taller, leaner and there was a distinct variation in their style. Eloise would never leave the house unless her outfit was coordinated and well put together. Torryn, however, was dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt with a picture of a woman with an afro printed on it, which she’d tucked into a pair of dark jeans, and wore the brightest neon-green sneakers he had ever seen. But the main reason Connor had found Torryn similar to Eloise was because of her hair, which was like his late wife’s—faded and short on the sides, with a glorious mess of curls on top—in the picture of Eloise beside Connor’s bed. The only picture of her he had up in his house.
Torryn grabbed two cookies, biting into one with gusto, then sneaking the other to Connor. With a loudly whispered thank-you, his son returned to play with his toys.
“First, let me say that I’m sorry for your loss,” Matthew said. “Ruth Emerson was loved by many here in Ryder Hill, including me.”
“Thank you,” Tess said. “People used to say she there wasn’t a stray cat, hungry dog or thirsty bird that Ruth didn’t feed. And that included foster children like myself and my siblings, whom no one wanted.”
Matthew handed out copies of the will, guiding them through the important sections. He was especially worried about them getting to that part.
Torryn’s head popped up first. “Three months? She wants me to live in her house for three months? I was thinking that we would put the house up for sale or something…” Her expressive eyes went wide, and she was already shaking her head. Then she read on, and eventually commented, “Seems like I will be the first.” She tilted her chin at her Nigelt and Tess. “Then it will be both your turns.”
“Wait. What does that mean? Mom wants all three of us to live in her home for three months each?” Tess squeaked, running a hand through her natural curls. “What am I supposed to do with my apartment?” Tess was the only one of the three who had never left Delaware.
“Are there any more directions from Mom about all of this?” Nigel asked.
Matthew nodded. “Ruth couldn’t decide who should get the house, so she stipulated that each of you spend a set amount of time there, with a certain task to do. She left letters for each of you to read at specific times.”
Having visited the property many times before her death, Matthew knew the main house wasn’t habitable because it needed repairs, but Ruth had renovated the guest house.
“Sorry, I don’t need the money that much.” Nigel dropped his copy of the will on Matthew’s desk. “I have prior commitments and frankly, I just don’t want to be in Ryder Hill.”
Torryn jabbed her brother in the chest. “Oh, please! You would do anything for Mom, so I don’t believe it has anything to do with ‘prior commitments.” She used her hands to form air quotes. “You just don’t want to come back here because of—”
Nigel cut Torryn a frosty look.
Tess raised an eyebrow. “Torryn. Leave it alone.”
Matthew wondered what that was all about, but his job was to focus on fulfilling Ruth’s final wishes. He gestured to Tess, and asked for her thoughts, but was somewhat distracted by Torryn tapping her leg. She had a restless energy about her.
Suddenly, Torryn jumped to her feet to pace the room, and began drumming her fingers along her chin. She made a beeline to Connor. He could hear her talking with his son in a kid-friendly voice. From the sound of it, Connor was lapping up every word she said.
After a few beats, Tess spoke up in a soft tone, recapturing his attention. “I’m happy to do it after all Mom did for me, and if I’m being blunt, that money will help me with the foundation I want to start.”
“A foundation?” Torryn asked from behind him, then scurried sit in another chair at the table.
“Yeah, that’s the first I’m hearing of this,” Nigel said.
Tess shrugged. “It’s nothing I want to get into right now.” Her tone suggested that whatever her plan was, it meant a lot to her.
Matthew sat back in his chair. He had been in many meetings with families before and knew it was time to remain silent. He often had to wait for heirs to process the wishes of their loved ones, while also grappling with their grief. It could get volatile and he was prepared to play referee, but Matthew never forgot that his sole purpose was to enforce his client’s will.
“I’m knee-deep in debt right now,” Torryn said, back to her foot-tapping. “So I could use the money. I want to get back to Philly, but I don’t have a place to live so I guess I’m stuck here until I figure out my next move.”
Her siblings’ heads whipped toward her. Matthew noted she didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. In fact, she met each of their gazes with a defiant look.
This was getting personal. Matthew made a move to stand. “Why don’t I give you all a moment to talk alone?”
Torryn waved a hand. “Oh, please. There’s no need. I’m an open book.”
Matthew couldn’t imagine baring his personal life in front of a stranger like that. Both his parents were notoriously private and the nature of his business required privacy as well. As an attorney, he had to weigh every word before he spoke.
“What happened?” Nigel scowled, making Matthew wonder if the man ever smiled. His face was granite serious. “Last I heard, you had started a home-organizing business.”
“I got sick. A ruptured appendix—”
“What?” Nigel interrupted. “I can’t believe you didn’t let us know about something so life-threatening.”
“As you see, I’m alright. Now, back to my story.” Torryn exhaled. “I was in the hospital when Brenda—um, that’s my business partner—ran off with the money and shirked our clients. The police are investigating but they told me not to hold my breath. For all they know, Brenda could be in Albuquerque or Aruba by now.”
Nigel whistled.
Tess’s mouth dropped open. “That’s horrible.” Then she shook her head. “See, that’s why I hate the big-city life.”
“Small towns can have con artists,” Torryn dryly returned.
“Yes, but we know who they are,” Tess said, her voice steely, giving as good as she got. Matthew was getting a clear picture of what the Emersons must have been like as children. Ruth must have had her hands full.
“Carry on,” Nigel said, waving a hand with barely concealed patience. Ruth had called him the middleman, the mediator.
“Yeah, so Brenda left me with angry customers. I have a ton of bills to pay, and my landlord was quick to put me out.” She rubbed her eyes, and he detected a sense of doubt for the first time since she’d started spewing her misfortune.
Connor came over and touched his arm. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked his son.
“I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” he said, squirming and hopping from one foot to the other. Matthew should never have given him that much water to drink.
Matthew grabbed Connor’s hand and stood. “Excuse us, but I’ve got to take my son to the restroom, but please take this time to decide—”
“Dad-d-y-y!” Connor squawked.
“Coming, son.” He inched toward the exit, Connor jumping higher with each step. He spoke fast, trying to sound as professional as he could with a frantic child crying out next to him. “You should know that if you don’t all agree to her terms, all the money will be donated to various charities. There is no splitting it between one or two of you. It’s an all-or-nothing kind of deal.” With that, he grabbed his son in his arms and sailed through the door.
*
“The pied piper of children strikes again,” Tess said, as soon as Matthew left the room.
Torryn patted her recently dyed blond curls and rolled her eyes. “That was years ago.” When she was a teenager, she had made extra money watching the neighborhood children and had been well liked as a youth counselor at summer camp. But those kids had been a good five years older than this little boy.
Tess snickered. “I don’t know how he expects us to take him seriously when he’s got a son wriggling in his arms.”
“Poor Connor looked like he was about to burst,” Torryn added, feeling a mix of commiseration and humor. She wasn’t a parent, but she understood Matthew’s plight. Connor was an absolute delight, so cute in his khaki shorts and shirt. She desperately wanted to squeeze those rosy cheeks.
Her brother smirked. “The poor man looks frazzled,” Nigel said. “Why isn’t his son at a sitter or with his mom?”
“I don’t know,” Torryn responded as she looked at her siblings and her heart warmed.
It had been a long time since they had shared a laugh together, she realized. The last time had been at her mother’s sixtieth birthday party ten years ago. Ten years. Though it felt like it had only been yesterday. Thinking of her mother, her smile waned. Placing a hand on her mouth, Torryn’s chest tightened. “She’s gone. Mom’s gone and she’s not coming back.”
Ruth Emerson was the second mother she had lost in her lifetime. The first had been a month before her sixth birthday. And though both deaths had been heart-wrenching, this one definitely hurt worse than the first. Ruth hadn’t been forced to take in a scrawny, mischievous soon-to-be kindergartner who still needed to be potty-trained. But she had. Ruth then poured so much love into her, nurturing her, and Torryn wished she had done more to make her proud. Wished she had tried harder to become the daughter Ruth had wanted her to be.
She’d always been weighed down with the guilt of her underwhelming achievements. Her sister was a social worker, and her brother was making a name for himself as an architect. Torryn was a high-school dropout, who’d hopped from job to job before finally opening a business as a home organizer. Then when her appendix ruptured, her business partner, Brenda, ran off with her profits, leaving her penniless and evicted.
She hadn’t bounced back from all that yet.
Ruth Emerson had left this earth when Torryn was at her lowest: broke, recovering and homeless. She had used the last of her savings to get to Ryder Hill. She sat there sniffling, wading through the deep waters of regret engulfing her sense of loss. A month before she died, Ruth had called Torryn and told her how much she believed in her, urging her to come home and start over, when all Torryn wanted to do was wallow.
After the funeral, Nigel, Torryn and Tess had gone to Tess’s house, talking for hours, until Nigel went to the only hotel in town and Tess had turned in. Torryn had bunked out on Tess’s couch.
“I know it sounds like a cliché, but at least she’s at peace,” Tess said softly.
“I know, but MRSA, you guys? MRSA?” She flailed a hand. “I don’t get it. She was the fiercest person I know. She took in three of the worst kids in foster care and dragged us to church every week kicking and screaming. We were known as TNT for a reason. Mom survived our teenage years, getting hit by a car and even a cancer scare. But a random cut on her hand took her out. It makes no sense.” Tears poured down her face. “It’s ridiculous. A stupid cut and she’s gone.” Covering her face with her hands, Torryn sobbed.
Nigel put his arms around her. “I know it’s hard, Torryn, but Mom wouldn’t want us to grieve so hard.”
Torryn used her T-shirt to wipe her face, and tried to compose herself. “I need to read my letter. I need to hear what she had to say to me.”
“Me, too,” Tess said, thumbing away a tear, before opening one of the bottles of water. Throat feeling dry, Torryn followed suit.
Nigel snagged a couple of tissues from Matthew’s desk and handed them to her and Tess. “As soon as Mr. Hotshot returns, I’ll ask him.”
As if on cue, Matthew reentered the room, without Connor.
When Nigel asked about the letters, Matthew unlocked his cabinet and retrieved a single envelope. Then he walked over and handed it to Torryn. She tilted her head back, registering how tall and lean he was, especially standing next to Nigel, who was angling for his letter with a stern look on his face. Matthew didn’t seem daunted by her brother’s imposing presence.
Handing her the letter, he said, “Read that alone.” Then he faced Nigel. “You’ll each get your letter when it’s your turn to stay in the house.”
The men engaged in a silent stare-down. To his credit, Matthew didn’t flinch. Then Nigel held out his fist. The men fist-bumped before Nigel went to pick up his folder.
“I’ve a flight to catch, but I’m in. I’ll go next if that’s cool with you two. Lisa is in the middle of wedding planning and I promised I’d be there to help,” he said, referencing his long-term fiancé.
Cracking up, Tess asked, “Are you really getting married this time? You two have been engaged for years.”
“Yes.” Nigel’s face reddened. “I’ll see you both soon.”
“Tell Lisa we said hello.” Torryn blew him a kiss, then called out, “Have a safe flight.”
“Text the group chat when you get home,” Tess added. Her sister had started a text chain to “promote increased communication” between the three of them. That had been Tess’s phrasing. The queen of extraneous words, she never said anything simply if she could embellish it.
Just then, Matthew dangled a key ring holding two shiny metal keys. “Do you want the keys to your home?”
“Temporary home,” Torryn corrected, her stomach in knots. She clutched the letter to her chest as she got to her feet.
“I’ve got to get into the office,” Tess said, sliding her purse onto her shoulder. “But I can drop you at my apartment and take you to Mom’s later if that works for you, Torryn.”
With a nod, Torryn struggled to hide her disappointment. After seeing her biological mother die because of a bad car accident, Torryn was afraid to get behind the wheel. Many didn’t understand why, at the age of twenty-eight, she’d never learned to drive, but many hadn’t gone what she had gone through at six years old. That’s why she had left town when she turned twenty and moved to major cities like Baltimore and now Philly. Public transportation.
“I could swing by there on my way home, if you’d like,” Matthew said. “Ruth and I are actually neighbors. I bought the house next to hers about a couple of years before Connor was born.”
“That’s a great idea. Let me go cool the car down while you decide,” Tess said as she strolled toward the door. Knowing her sister, her mind was on the children. Tess was one of the few people who loved what she did for a living. It had taken Torryn close to twelve years before she had found her calling. Cleaning up other people’s messes, since she wasn’t good with handling her own.
Torryn looked at Matthew. He appeared to love his job, too, but he seemed…uptight. “Don’t you have appointments?”
“You were my last one for the day,” he said. “It’s up to you.” Maybe reserved was a better word for him than uptight. Even now, his face was impassive, expressionless. Torryn didn’t know if that was his personality or a persona he put on for his job.
She hesitated for a moment. She didn’t know Matthew like that. But Tess didn’t seem concerned with Torryn riding somewhere with him or she would have said so. To his face. Plus, he had a son, whom she presumed would be traveling with them as their unofficial chaperone.
“Thanks for the ride. I’ll let my sister know.” She sauntered out of the building, the heat smacking her in the face. She sputtered, wishing she had brought the rest of the water. Tess had already backed her sedan out of her parking spot and was waiting near the entrance. Torryn jogged over and yelled, “I’m going to catch a ride with Matthew.”
After giving her a thumbs-up, Tess drove off. Seconds later, Matthew emerged with Connor beside him.
“Yay, are you coming with us, Tory?” Connor jumped with delight.
Before she could answer, Matthew placed a hand on his arm, “That’s Miss Torryn, please.”
She smiled when Connor ran over to her after making his way down the building’s concrete steps. Those curls bobbed on his head, some covering his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and hugged her. In one swoop, Torryn hoisted him onto her back, causing Connor to giggle.
He shouted, “Whee! Go, horsey, go.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Matthew asked.
“I got it,” she said, her back slightly bent. “Lead the way.”
Without another word, Matthew pointed to his SUV and unlocked the doors. Torryn marched over, wiggling and jerking her body to keep Connor laughing. To hide her awkwardness from riding in close proximity with a man she barely knew, she engaged with Connor while they drove. Torryn didn’t remember Matthew from when they were kids. Probably because he’d been a few years ahead of her in school.
Soon, he turned onto her old street and her childhood home came into view. She sucked in a breath as she took in the familiar gravel path, the slightly overgrown lawn with perennials lining the long driveway. Both Tess and Torryn had helped Ruth plant the flowers. She remembered the days had been hot and sticky and the chore tedious, but somehow Mom had made it fun.
To her right, she took in the small patch of sunflowers near the fence of her mother's yard. Connor pointed. “Look, Daddy. Those flowers are so big.”
Torryn told him how she had planted those with her mom.
“I want to plant flowers with my mom.” His face fell. “But she’s not here.”
“It’s okay. You can plant them with her another time,” Torryn said, turning to pat his leg.
Connor shook his head and slumped against the back seat. She looked at Matthew, expecting an explanation, but he was staring straight ahead, his knuckles white, hands tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Torryn couldn’t figure out what she had said wrong. It wasn’t until they had pulled up in front of Ruth's two-story home that Matthew whispered, “His mother passed a couple years ago. That’s how I connected with Ruth. My wife and Ruth both had MRSA and though we knew each as neighbors and from church, their illness brought our families together.”
She gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I had no idea.” All of a sudden, the details slipped into place. Matthew and Connor had come alone to her mother’s homegoing service. Connor had a play area in Matthew’s office. She apologized again and Matthew reassured her, but Torryn was concerned about the little boy, who had suddenly become solemn and withdrawn.
As soon as they vacated the SUV, Torryn rushed over to him. Bending her knees, she dipped her finger under Connor’s chin. “I’m sorry your mom isn’t here.”
His chin quivered. “Who’s going to plant flowers with me? I don’t have a mom.”
The words tore at her heart. Torryn had been only a couple years older than he was when she lost her biological mother. She had been hurt and confused. And she had spent many nights crying and many days looking out the window, waiting for her mother to come back and take her home. Feeling helpless, she twisted to face his father. Matthew stood there with his hands jammed in his pockets, looking like he wished he could be anywhere else but there.
Taking control of the situation, she cupped Connor’s head in the palms of her hands. “We’ll plant them together, sweetheart.”
Chapter Two
Matthew hardly knew what to say. Torryn should not have done that. She should not have made a promise that she might not keep. Connor had squealed with glee at her words before running to play at an old dollhouse and kitchen in a corner of the family room.
Now, he was going to have to deal with Connor asking him every day about planting flowers with Miss Torryn. Of her three children, Ruth Emerson had classified Torryn as a dandelion: free and untamed. Which to Matthew meant hard to pin down—as in, for all her good intentions, Torryn wouldn’t keep her word to his son. Those were the thoughts reverberating through his mind the entire time Matthew stood inside Ruth’s house, ignoring the overwhelming heat, waiting for her to read the letter.
But he said nothing. Because if he called her on it, she might say he could have jumped at the opportunity to plant the flowers with his son himself. And she would be right. He should’ve chimed in. To be fair, Torryn had given him a chance to do so. But he had said nothing.
More and more, Matthew was realizing that as Connor got older, his son would feel the impact of losing his mother at a tender age. And there was nothing Matthew could do to prevent that from happening, which made his heart hurt. There would be no photos at Connor’s high-school graduation wearing a big smile as he stood between both his parents. No mother to bug him to clean his room or tease him about his first crush. No mother to help Connor plant sunflowers…
Only a carefree young woman who was probably already regretting her brash offer. He stood several feet behind Torryn, who had sat down at the large table in the dining room and then torn open the envelope. It was a large space with a painting of Ruth and her three children from her sixtieth birthday party, an event he had missed because he had been away on his honeymoon. The table was covered with an eyelet tablecloth and had an empty vase, a sign of Ruth’s absence.
Torryn’s eyebrows knitted as she intently read the letter. She dabbed at the tears in her eyes and then appeared to read it again. Matthew knew the contents of each of the three letters because he had helped Ruth by typing the small notes for her and then having her sign her name.
The air was muggy, stifling. The house so still. He could feel the sweat lining his neck and loosened the top button of his shirt. Peeking over at his son, Matthew could see that Connor’s hair had flattened with perspiration. Torryn’s forehead was beaded from perspiration. Matthew marched over to open the large windows. Almost immediately, the curtains fluttered in the wind. The house hadn’t been occupied in months, as it was deemed uninhabitable, and he berated his thoughtlessness. He hoped there was something refreshing to drink out in the guesthouse. It would take a few hours to cool the house but he was sure that Torryn would appreciate it.
Matthew sat down across from her.
She looked incredulous. “Mom was about to lose this land and her house?” She waved the letter. “I had to read it twice to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me. Can you explain to me how this happened?”
“When your mother fell sick, your sister began to manage the utilities and other incidentals. Tess didn’t know about the property taxes. Your mother was old-school. She was used to going into the bank once a year to pay the taxes with Mr. Fischer. But when she was so ill, it was the last thing on her mind. By the time I stepped in to help her with her estate, the house was already in foreclosure because of all the back taxes. It goes up for auction in about three months, and it’ll be sold to the highest bidder, starting with the amount owed.”
Torryn jumped to her feet and paced, her curls bouncing with each step. The heat had made them more tamable somehow. “Are you telling me that this place—one of Ryder Hill’s historical landmarks, with fifty acres of land and a guesthouse which my mother devoted her life to, might be sold for about six thousand dollars?” He nodded, adding that the neighbor on the other side, Blake Whitlock, had already indicated his interest. Her eyes flashed.
“That is just plain senseless. This house is worth way more than that.”
“Yes. And if it does go up for sale, I'm sure there will be multiple bidders. But your mother had the faith that you would keep that from happening.”
“That is just plain senseless. This house is worth way more than that.”
Sliding a glance Connor’s way, Matthew was impressed with how quiet he was being. He had what looked like tiny green action figures in his hands that Matthew suspected had been Nigel’s at one point. Matthew still warned him not to put the toys in his mouth. Torryn walked over to fluff Connor’s curls.
Connor wrinkled his nose. “Ew, that’s disgusting, Daddy. I wouldn't put these in my mouth.” His voice echoed in the house, so, of course, his son had to repeat it again.
Matthew and Torryn chuckled. “He sounded just like my mom just now,” Matthew said. “He nailed her attitude and tone to a tee. I should have recorded it because she’d get a kick out of it,” he said.
After placing the letter on the table and running her fingers through her hair, Torryn said, “Not everything has to be viewed from the other side of a lens. Some things are good to just experience, keeping a snapshot in your mind. Then all you have to do is close your eyes—” her eyes fluttered closed “—and soak in the memories.” Then she smiled. A wide beautiful smile that seemed to light up the woman inside.
Connor stood and mimicked her actions. Matthew found himself speechless. But only for a second. When her eyes popped open, he said, “That was deep.”
She lowered her chin to her chest and rubbed the bridge of her nose, a rosy hue painted across her cheeks. Interesting. Miss Open Like a Book had a shy side. There was also an old soul underneath her flighty exterior. Substance. Depth. Potential.
He was beginning to see why Ruth had chosen her to save the guesthouse, and now even Matthew believed Torryn had the ability to meet Ruth’s request. And it was a big one.
Connor headed to the kitchen, where he picked up a thick, yellow fake fry and pretended to eat it. Matthew glanced at his watch. It was almost lunchtime. He knew his son was going to be asking for the real thing soon.
He cleared his throat and redirected the conversation. “What about the rest of what she said? How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know what to feel, to be honest with you. My gut reaction is fear. No, that word is too mild. What I’m feeling is sheer and utter terror, and Mom’s insistence that I can’t tell Nigel or Tess about the financial status of the house.” Walking back to the chair she had vacated, Torryn hunched her shoulders.
She picked up the paper, and began reading out loud. “‘My dear, sassy daughter, I need you to use every ounce of creativity you possess to save my house. I know your first instinct will be to ask your brother and sister for help…’” She paused to grin at him. “Mom knows me too well.” Torryn continued, “‘But I want you to do this on your own, without their help. Use your resources and keep my house off the auction block. And, to answer your question, I didn’t fall behind on purpose. But I wouldn’t be your mother if I didn’t use this opportunity as a teaching moment. Because I believe in you, and I have enough belief to cover your disbelief. I know you will keep this land in Emerson hands because you are un—’” Her breath caught. “‘Unstoppable. So get to work.’” Tears streaked down her face and her body shook with silent tears. “I don’t know if I can do this. Her faith in me is misguided. She should have just asked you to pay the taxes.”
“I tried but she was adamant… and she was in so much pain, I didn’t push,” Matthew choked out. He rushed out to the SUV to get napkins from a fast-food joint to bring them to her. After thanking him, she blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes.
Connor ran over to her and tapped her leg. “Why are you crying?”
She touched Connor’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “Because my mommy died and that makes me really sad.”
Connor’s face fell. Matthew worried that he was going to have an inconsolable kid on his hands.
But to his surprise, Connor took her hands in his. “Don’t cry, Miss… I forget your name.”
“Torryn,” she said as she wiped her face with the back of her hands.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” He gave her a cherubic smile. “Don’t cry, Miss Torryn, because guess what?” He leaned in and whispered, “My mommy died, too, but she’s with God, so Daddy said we should be happy for her.” Matthew swallowed hard to keep from breaking down at his son’s words. Connor tilted his head. “Is your mommy with God?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Then you get to be happy for her.” Connor patted her on the back like Matthew had done for him so many times before. Torryn covered her face in her hands. Matthew got misty eyed as well.
“Do you want my daddy to sing for you?” Connor asked, his little brows furrowed.
“Buddy, I’m sure that’s the last thing Miss Torryn needs right now.”
“But, Daddy, Mom Mom Peggy says you can sing sing.”
She gave him a skeptical glance. “He doesn’t look like he can sing to me. He looks way too serious.”
Seeing the mischief in her eyes, Matthew jumped to his feet and stepped outside to keep from falling apart in front of this stranger. Or worse, having to sing for her to please his son. He soaked in the sun while he thought about Connor. To see his grieving boy, who had nightmares most nights crying for his mother, try to comfort someone else was humbling. He was so proud of Connor, he thought his heart would burst. Scanning the vast land, he took in all the sounds and smells of summer around him. He drew in several deep breaths, then returned inside to finish the task that was his duty as Ruth’s attorney to perform.
“What do you plan to do?” he asked her, secretly relieved to see Connor had returned to playing in the kitchen.
Her eyes were glassy, and he saw her shiver, but her voice was firm. “I plan to do my mom proud. I’ve always been…impetuous. I dropped out of high school the last semester of my senior year for no good reason.” Tapping her chin, she said, “Well, in hindsight, I think it was fear, and I’m embarrassed to say I don’t even know what I was afraid of.” Lifting her chin, she said, “I think it’s time I settle down long enough to prove to myself that I have staying power. I’m going to save her house. I don’t know how, but I will. I have to.”
Her resolve touched his heart. Looking at his son, who was also without a mother, he could feel his chest tighten. A mother’s love couldn’t be duplicated. He was sorry Connor would never be able to experience that. Unless…he started dating again.
But just as quickly, he shunned that idea. The last woman he had trusted had damaged that trust. Eloise’s deception had been heartbreaking. That was why his mother and grandmother had insisted on the paternity test. So it would be foolish to even dip a toe in the waters. But…
When Matthew was about eleven, three years after his father's passing, his mother had gotten him a mentor. A big brother. Maybe he could do the same thing for Connor? Was there a big-sister program? Then he zoned in on Torryn, who was sitting next to Connor on the floor and playing with him. His mother’s departure for Florida had left him without a caretaker for Connor. Maybe…
Nope. He’d think of something else. He was sure if he thought about it some more, the right solution would come to him. One that didn’t involve a beautiful woman with cocoa-butter skin and blond curls.
*
Torryn wiggled her fingers so Connor would loosen his grip a bit as they walked toward the lake in knee-high grass, with Matthew trailing behind while on a phone call with a client. But the little boy was holding on tight as he stomped his way through the blades. Not that she minded. She had always gotten along well with young children. It was the adults in her life that she struggled with. Particularly men. They always seemed to misjudge her because she was a high-school dropout. Never mind that it had been by choice.
She shifted her thoughts from that subject to the matter at hand. Torryn had grown up in this house. And her mother wanted Torryn to see the extent of the repairs needed, and it was a lot. Like a lot a lot.
The main house needed work due to age and a powerful storm that had left substantial damage to the roof. From the outside, the house appeared the same as she remembered it, with the chipped beige paint, the wraparound porch and creaky boards, but the inside needed gutting down to the frame. It was a metaphor for her life. She needed a complete reboot. According to Matthew, Ruth had moved into the guesthouse with the intentions of getting the work done, but then she had fallen ill.
They finally arrived at the lake, and she looked out at the calm waters. Connor bent down to pick up some pebbles to toss them in. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to show him how to skip them on top of the water. Of course, that led to fifteen minutes of trial and error.
Having ended his call, Matthew tried a couple times to skip stones before giving up and shoving his hands in his pockets. Torryn encouraged him to take videos and photos of Connor’s pebble-skipping adventure.
“When are we going to plant the sunflowers?” Connor asked, wiping his hands on his shorts and peering up at her while shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Really soon,” Torryn said patiently, though it had to be like the sixth time he had asked. She hoped Matthew wasn’t displeased at her spontaneous offer, and she sidled to his side to apologize.
He waved a hand at her. “I do wish you had asked me first, but I get it. It’s not like I jumped in to volunteer.”
She had wondered about that. He had looked ill at ease at the possibility. “Why didn’t you?” Just then, her stomach grumbled. It had to be close to one o’clock, hours since she’d wolfed down those two cookies. She needed to eat.
Matthew must have heard her tummy because instead of answering her question, he asked her if she needed a ride to grab lunch and some groceries.
“I don’t want to put you out,” she said.
He pointed at Connor. “I’m sure my son is hungry but is too excited to notice. I think he would be thrilled if you joined us for lunch. If you aren’t doing anything, that is.”
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she accepted his offer. “Great,” he said. “It’s a plan.”
They started toward to the guesthouse. She was so glad she had worn sneakers, but they were now blackened with mud. Stealing a glance at Matthew’s shoes, she rolled her eyes. Somehow, they were impeccable.
“You like having plans, don’t you?” she asked, flicking off a blade of grass from her T-shirt.
“Yep. I thrive on stability.” She noticed how he always kept an eye out for Connor, who was now running ahead of them chasing a crane.
She snorted. “I’m the complete opposite. I run from routine so don’t ask me how I ended up in the home-organizing business.”
“Maybe a part of you enjoys creating structure out of the chaos.”
“I certainly don’t run from it. Chaos, that is. It always seems to find me.”
“Yet, you’re still standing.”
The admiration and certainty in his tone was too much. It made her feel…awkward. She blurted out, “I had to file for bankruptcy.”
Matthew stopped and placed his hand on her arm. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t negate a compliment by pointing out your mistakes.” He took a breath, then went on. “Simply say ‘thank you.’ And accept it.”
She rubbed her arm where he had made contact. “It’s too soon for you to judge my character.”
“I disagree. When it comes to first impressions, his instincts are spot on. I trust his judgment implicitly.”
Who was singing her praises? She knew it wasn’t her mom, because Matthew had said his, not her. Her curiosity was piqued. “Whose instincts?”
“My son’s. Children have a good sense of character. Connor loved your mom and he’s taken a shine to you.” He cleared his throat and dipped his chin to his chest. “That’s why I’d like to make you an offer.”
“What kind of offer?”
“I’d like to offer you a job. Something short-term that I think would meet your immediate need. And mine.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you be interested in being Connor’s babysitter?” Before she could answer, he lifted a hand and went on. “It would just be until after the summer. He’s already signed up for preschool starting mid-August. I had planned to take him to work with me but there might be times where having a child around could be inconvenient, like when I have to go to court. I have an estate case coming up and I can’t take him with me.”
Taking care of someone’s child was huge. She would be responsible for Connor’s well-being. Her stomach churned. But she needed the funds. How hard could it be? Connor was adorable, and like Matthew said, he did seem to like her.
She squared her shoulders and nodded. “I accept, but I’ve got to warn you my only experience with children is that I was a youth counselor to ten-year-olds at summer camp and I used to watch some of them on occasion. Just an hour or two. When do you need me to start?”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
Chapter Three
God worked fast. That’s what Matthew reminded himself as he watched Connor take his bath that night, while the niggling doubts about Torryn floated around in his head. He’d prayed that very morning for help with Connor, especially since one of the two day-care facilities in Ryder Hill was only for children up to two years old.
After Eloise died, Matthew had enrolled his son in the other day-care facility but Connor had cried all day. The program manager had tried to be patient, but after two weeks, she had been frazzled and the other children disturbed. So she had told Matthew to pick up his son. Hearing Connor screaming in the background, Matthew hadn’t argued, and the manager had asked him not to return.
That’s when he had turned to his mother. Mom was a retired teacher, and she’d been fantastic with Connor, even teaching him how to sight-read word books. But now, his auntie in Florida had gotten sick, and his mother had to go take care of her sister. However, he had been stuck.
So he had prayed this very morning for assistance and God had answered.
But still, he was worried.
Torryn wouldn’t have been his first choice. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that he was right next door and that Connor liked her.
“I get to see Miss Torryn again, Daddy,” Connor breathed out, pumping his legs in the bubble bath. Matthew had filled the tub with a bit too much water, so, of course, there was spillage. “Is it time yet?”
“Yes, you will. But, no, it’s not time yet. It’ll be after you go to sleep and wake up.” Matthew got to his knees and started fishing the bath toys out of the water and into the netted hammock secured with suction cups on the wall of the tub. He could feel the water soaking through his pants. In hindsight, he probably should have changed out of his dress clothes before giving Connor his bath.
“Oh. Do I have to sleep one time or two times?” Connor tilted his head back to look at him.
Matthew’s heart melted. “Just once. Now, let’s get you into your pajamas and you can brush your teeth and we can say our nighttime prayers.” Connor jumped up, causing a big splash of water to hit him across the chest. “Whoa, take it easy, big guy.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Connor lowered his head and hunched his shoulders.
“It’s alright. It’s only water,” Matthew said, pulling Connor into his chest. His shirt was now wet but it was worth it when Connor wrapped his arms around his neck. Matthew returned the hug. “Let’s get you dried off.”
Matthew scurried to grab a towel from the hook behind the door. It was green and blue and had a hoodie with spikes, so, of course, Connor had to emit a large roar. After some cajoling, Matthew finally got Connor ready for bed.
Both of them were now on their knees in Connor’s room, which was decorated in a dinosaur theme with lots of blues and greens.
“Can we add Miss Torryn to our prayers?” Connor asked, his head resting on Matthew’s arms.
“Um…sure,” Matthew said. He hadn’t seen that question coming, but he knew the best way to handle it. “You can pray for her.”
Connor gave a grave nod before closing his eyes. It was a good thing that Connor knew his prayers by rote because Matthew kept replaying Connor’s request in his head. He tucked his son into bed and headed down the hall to his own bedroom. He needed to process what adding Torryn to their prayers meant for his son. The only other women they usually mentioned were his mother and grandmother. Adding Torryn to the list was a big deal. But maybe he was overthinking it?
Just then, his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket. It was a text message from Torryn. They had exchanged numbers after she had agreed to babysit. Forgot to ask what time I should expect you.
For a brief second, he was tempted to tell Torryn he had changed his mind. But he had to go to court tomorrow afternoon for a probate case and Connor would be disappointed if he didn’t get to see Torryn.
We will come about noon, he texted.
Great. See you then.
After entering his room, he rested his cell phone on the charger on his nightstand, his eyes falling on the Bible there. Matthew had recently purchased a new one, which featured topical studies and a timeline for reading the whole Bible in a year. He readied himself for bed, then settled onto the edge of the mattress before checking on the chapters he needed to read that night. A few minutes passed before he realized he hadn’t registered any of the words, so he put down the Bible.
God deserved his undivided attention, and at the moment, his mind was preoccupied with the letter resting on the mahogany dresser to the left of his bed. After Eloise’s passing, Matthew had decluttered the bedroom, painted the walls beige and decorated the room in soft browns. Then he had purchased a chaise longue, and a desk and chair that provided him a great view of the lush scenery outside. His bedding was plush and comfortable. He’d consciously created an oasis in his master bedroom. When Eloise had admitted her infidelity, that had been where they fought. Then she’d gotten sick and he’d cared for her in their room. So when she’d died, he had needed a change. He also had a stern rule that he wouldn’t bring work in this space, and he had kept that promise to himself.
However, that envelope threatened his peace of mind, and messed with his sleep.
Groaning, he tossed back the covers, grabbed the letter and shoved it inside his nightstand drawer. However, out of sight didn’t mean out of mind in this case. Restless, he strolled out of his bedroom, down the stairs and into the living room, the only sound the trickling of the indoor waterfall fountain, then headed toward the kitchen. Maybe a cup of chamomile tea would settle him.
The kitchen was the one room in the house he had left untouched since Eloise had already upgraded. She had been an artist and had converted some of her abstract paintings into window valances. The bright colors provided an eye-catching contrast against the white cabinets and appliances. Putting on the electric kettle, he peered outside the kitchen window, which was dotted with raindrops from a light drizzle.
From his vantage point, Matthew could see the lights were on in his neighbor’s guesthouse. He cocked his ears, picking up the strains of notes. Torryn had to be blasting the music if he could hear it. Then something caught his eye. Movement in the backyard. He squinted and leaned forward. The exterior lights were on and he could see a shadow jumping up and down.
Was that Torryn? Dancing?
Was she seriously dancing in the rain?
The kettle hissed and he hurried to pour two cups of tea, then placed them on their matching saucers and exited into his backyard to investigate. Walking past the large trampoline that he had yet to allow Connor to use, Matthew trudged across the wet grass, Torryn’s hooting and hollering a welcome distraction.
“Are you trying to scare the squirrels?” he called out once he was close enough for her to hear him above the sounds of the music she was playing. She had gone way back with that one.
Torryn let out a squeal and placed a hand on her chest. “Oh! You scared me. Was I too loud? Sorry about that.” She paused the music and bounced over to him, slightly out of breath, her eyes bright. Her blond curls were plastered across her forehead. “I didn’t think you could hear me. I was sitting on the back porch, feeling sorry for myself, when I decided to put on one of my mother’s favorites. This was her Sunday morning cleaning music and it boosted my spirits.”
Matthew chuckled. “I know.” The teacups rattled in his hands. “I brought you some tea if you’d like some.”
“Would I ever. Thank you.”
Following her lead, he took huge gulps of his tea. She gave him a warm smile, causing his chest to expand. Between that and the joy in her shining eyes, his breath caught. Then he blushed as he realized she’d said something and he had to ask her to repeat herself. Laughing, she said, “I was asking if Connor was asleep.”
“Y-yes. He’s excited to play with you tomorrow. You were his main topic of conversation tonight.”
“No wonder my ears were ringing,” she laughed. “I’m looking forward to it, too. I intend to order the seeds for us to plant flowers.”
Relief filled him, but he added, “I hope you’re ready for an energetic four-year-old. He can be a handful.”
She flexed a bicep. “I was born ready.” Then she took a sip of the tea before closing her eyes. “This is delicious.”
“Your mom purchased these teas for Eloise—th-that’s my, uh, Connor’s mom, when she was ill.” He quickly changed the subject back to Connor. “I’m taking the morning off to spend time with him before my court appointment tomorrow.” He swallowed some of his hot tea to keep from confessing it was the first time in months he had taken time off from work.
“Aww. That’s sweet. What do you plan to do together?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he said, feeling his face warm.
“I don’t want to intrude, but how about I make you guys breakfast before you have your adventure?” Before he could decline, she held up a hand. “Now, before you say you don’t want to put me out, you wouldn’t be. I could actually use a ride to the grocery store, and me making breakfast would be my way of thanking you.”
He arched an eyebrow. “What’s on the menu?” he asked, picturing Torryn popping frozen waffles or bread in a toaster.
“How about some cheesy biscuits or fluffy cinnamon rolls?”
Sweet tooth activated. He nodded with much enthusiasm. “I’d be happy—I mean, Connor would be happy—with whatever you choose.”
Taking the last gulp from her teacup then placing it on its saucer, Torryn backed away with a small wave. “Awesome, I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be ready by six.”
*
When Torryn had lost her biological mother, she’d had no other living adult relatives to take care for her. Now, when she lost Ruth, at least she had her siblings—along with her mustard-seed-sized faith. Torryn sat on the porch a few minutes before six that morning with Ruth’s Bible on her lap. Just running her hands across the worn leather provided her much comfort. It had been more than a minute since Torryn had gone to church, but she had Ruth to thank for helping her develop a love for God and His Word.
Ruth had tucked handwritten notes all throughout the pages of the Bible, and Torryn was enjoying reading the verses and affirmations. Her mother had been an amateur poet of sorts, and though she was gone, Torryn felt that she was still speaking to her through these words.
One in particular resonated with her: Even a dying plant still has its roots, a promise of a second chance.
Torryn dabbed the corner of her eyes. Ruth had seen the beauty in everything, and now she was gone, leaving a gaping hole in Torryn’s heart. One that she didn’t see healing anytime soon. The sound of tires on the gravel stirred her into action. She ducked into the house, the screen door slamming behind her, to place the Bible on top of all the unopened mail—mostly bills—on the small credenza, and to grab the flyer she had worked on. Then, after giving her curls a light toss and reapplying the coral lipstick that matched her shirt and jean shorts, she dashed outside, her sandals crunching on the pavement.
When she got into the car, Matthew grunted a greeting, then released a yawn. Torryn bit back a smile. Okay, someone was so not a morning person. Connor, on the other hand, was stretching his arms out toward her.
“Morning, Miss Torryn. Daddy said you’re making us minnamon buns.”
“That’s right,” she giggled. Since she hadn’t yet bolted her seat belt, Torryn turned around to squeeze the boy’s hands briefly. “But I’ll need someone to help me spread the icing across the buns.”
“Yum.” Connor smacked his lips and rubbed his stomach. “I can do that.” He was dressed in a polo shirt and another pair of khakis similar to the one he had worn yesterday. A little mini me of his father, who was dressed in the adult version of that outfit. Torryn wondered if Connor even had jeans and sneakers, but it wasn’t her place to ask. While entering the vehicle, she had spotted an iPad attached to the rear of her passenger seat. Since Connor was playing a cartoon, Matthew told Connor to put on his headphones.
She touched Matthew’s arm and whispered, “I guess I should have asked first if you’re alright with him helping me,” just in case Connor could still hear her. The youngster was busy singing and clapping along with the video he was watching.
Matthew chuckled. “It’s all good. He beat me to it.”
“Miss Torryn, you’re the best,” Connor announced from the back seat.
“Aw, thank you, Connor. I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
He smiled and returned to his show.
“It’s barely been twenty-four hours and already you’ve got a number-one fan,” Matthew said, grinning at her.
Laughing, Torryn relaxed into her seat. “I guess cinnamon rolls are the way to a little boy’s heart.”
“Not just his,” Matthew joked as he turned onto the main road.
To keep herself from reading more into his words, Torryn looked out the window and started to make small talk. “It looks like they’ve built up a lot of the area since I’ve been gone.”
“Yes, I think the only thing we’re still missing is a great breakfast place. Remember the diner that used to be near the edge of town?” When she nodded, he said, “The place closed. I think they plan to tear it down and build a bank or something.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” she said. “Is the bakery that used to be across the street from the grocers still around?” Torryn asked. That’s where she had done her baking internship, when she had entertained the possibility of becoming a pastry chef. She had been working on the final course before completion when she’d quit. Because she’d been afraid. Story of her life. That’s why when she had started her home-organization business, she had made sure to get a partner. Someone to help hold her accountable, but, of course, she hadn’t anticipated that Brenda would betray her like she did.
“The original owners retired, and it wasn’t the same under new management, so they finally closed their doors a few months back. We could use a new bakery.”
Her heart saddened to learn that it was gone. So many changes… Maybe she should open a bakery instead. Just the thought of that venture made her heart hammer with fear. What if she failed at something she truly loved? It was better to stick with the safer choice. Besides, she needed to get back to Philly, or maybe she should settle in Baltimore next She tapped her fingers on the passenger door. “Since you work with estates, do you know anyone that might need a professional home organizer?”
“Not at the moment, but I’ll keep you in mind.” He glanced her way as he pulled into the town’s grocery shop. “Already regretting the babysitting job?”
“No, no,” she quickly assured him. “I’m looking to do both.”
Matthew put the vehicle in Park. “I see… Why not put an ad in the local paper?” he asked. “Though I doubt anyone in these parts would want a home organizer. That sounds fancy, like something reserved for the rich and famous. Unless you work with hoarders?”
“My business is on a much smaller scale,” she said. “I haven’t taken on any clients of that magnitude yet. I thought about linking up with a professional cleaning company but hadn’t pursued it after I got sick. For now, I’m looking to work with widows, people ready to relocate or downsize. That sort of a thing.”
“Okay, I’ll keep it in mind for future reference. Maybe I can recommend you to my clients.” He jutted his chin. “The offices for the Ryder Hill Gazette are right across the street from this store if you want snap a picture of the number in your phone.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“Is home organizing your dream job?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s a job.”
While he went to get Connor out of the back seat, Torryn captured a pic of the paper and slipped her phone in her pocket of her jeans.
Next to the paper, she noticed the Closed sign on the front door of the bakery, Pattie's Pastries.
Memories of many happy mornings with her family flashed in her mind—Nigel and Tess sitting at the kitchen table licking the batter after Torryn “helped” her mother prepare the batter for the cookies. That was where her love for baking all began. Then she had served as an intern at that very bakery. She placed a hand over her chest, unexpectedly sad at the loss.
Realizing Matthew was standing by the open door waiting for her, Torryn shook off her doldrums, stepped inside Mr. Rodney's Grocers and waved at Mr. Rodney, who used to give her a lollipop every time she would come to his shop with her mom.
The first thing she did was put her flyer on the job board on the wall. She stepped back to read her handwritten advertisement for dog-walking services because, as her Mom would say, every dollar was part of a hundred.
Next, she grabbed a shopping cart, ignoring the squeaky left wheel. She knew from many years of coming to this store that there was no use trying to find a better one. There weren’t any. She made her way down the first aisle, which had breads on one end and fruit on the other, with Matthew and Connor in tow. She placed some of each at the top of her cart.
“Wait up,” Matthew said, coming over to put Connor inside the cart instead of in the child seat since he was a little too tall to fit inside the seat comfortably. She paused. She hadn’t considered that Connor would need to be secured in the cart. But it made sense or he would run amok in the store.
“How about you push him in this one, and I use another?” she suggested. Matthew went to back to the entrance to retrieve another cart.
“Miss Torryn, I want you to push me,” Connor said, bouncing hard enough to make the cart move. She quickly grabbed the handles to keep it from tipping over.
“Alright, we’ll see what your father says when he returns.” Of course, Matthew agreed, making Connor move about even more. Chuckling, she made her way through the aisles and picked up flour, eggs, salt, cinnamon, yeast, sugar, milk, confectioners’ sugar, vanilla extract, cream cheese, butter and brown sugar.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of stuff,” Matthew observed.
“You need a lot of ingredients when you’re baking from scratch.” She snapped her fingers. “I still need cheese for the cheesy biscuits.” She headed back to the dairy section and picked up a couple blocks of cheddar cheese. Then she realized something. “Honey. I’ll need honey and parsley.” Torryn backtracked to grab those ingredients. By now, the cart was almost full. Plus Matthew had packed a few things in his cart.
“I didn’t realize you would be baking the cinnamon rolls from scratch,” Matthew said. “I’m more of an add-water-and-stir kind of a baker. Or, better yet, tear-apart-and-bake.”
Torryn smiled. “I’ve been baking since I was about seven years old.”
“You seem to be able to do a little bit of everything.” His voice held a note of awe. “I saw your sign for dog walking.”
She laughed. “Yes. My problem isn’t skill. It’s consistency.” They made their way to the front of the store to check out.
“How are you going to juggle all these jobs if you get them?”
Was he worried that she would flake on her babysitting duties? “I plan to keep a tight schedule but taking care of Connor would be my main gig. Those are my side hustles. You might not need me every day, so…”
“Ah, okay.” Matthew’s eyebrows lifted. Torryn pulled the cart to the checkout counter.
When Mr. Rodney saw the items in her cart, he said, “I bet whatever you’re making is going to be delicious.” Torryn knew that was a hint and smiled. Her mother used to make baked goods to feed his sweet tooth all the time.
“I’ll be sure to save you some.”
“If it’s no bother.” He placed the items into brown paper bags as he rung up their order.
“None at all. I usually make extra, anyway.”
Mr. Rodney rubbed his chin. “Maybe I can sell some here, since Pattie's Pastries is closed.” He pointed to his empty display case. “I have the perfect spot for them if you feel like making additional money.”
“Sure. You’ll have to come get them, though. I don’t have a car.”
Matthew placed the bags into the shopping cart. She could see him biting back a smile.
“Alright. That’s easy enough,” Mr. Rodney said. “Let me go get you some extra ingredients. On the house.”
Matthew insisted on paying for the other goods, despite Mr. Rodney’s protests. And Matthew refused Torryn’s attempt to give him cash, stating it was the least he could do since she was making them breakfast. Torryn didn’t argue. Her low bank balance overrode her pride.
“I can’t believe you ended up with a baking gig, and you've only been here for a day,” he said, putting the goods into the trunk of his Expedition. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you’ll get calls for dog walking.”
She grinned. “I gotta make money somehow.”
“I gotta make money,” Connor repeated.
“I see that.” Matthew’s tone held admiration. “You are a woman of many jobs. And talents.” He strapped Connor inside the booster seat.
Torryn waited until they were back inside his car before asking him about his career choices. “What about you? What did you want to be when you were growing up?”
Connor must have thought she was talking to him because he replied, “I want to be an astronaut.” Then he mimicked the sound of a rocket blasting off.
“Oh, that sounds like a cool job, sweetie,” Torryn said, reaching behind her to ruffle his curls.
“Yeah. It is the most special one.” Connor’s chest puffed.
“I always knew I would be a lawyer. From the time I was Connor’s age. Just like my father and my grandfather before him,” Matthew said.
Her eyebrows rose. “Wow. That is impressive.”
He jutted his chin toward his son. “I don’t know if he will keep the family tradition. But I will certainly encourage it.”
“Is it an expectation?” Torryn twisted her lips. She didn’t know if she agreed with that, but who was she to argue?
“No, but it would be…nice.”
Man, it seemed like this guy had no room for spontaneity in his life whatsoever. “So you never dreamed of doing anything else?”
Matthew shook his head. “No. Once it was decided, I remained focused until I achieved my goal. I graduated top of my class in high school so that I could earn a scholarship—though my parents had saved up for my college tuition. But I wanted to do it all on my own.”
Torryn drummed her fingers and looked out the window. By the time she was twenty-five, she had tried out at least ten different kinds of jobs, including waitress, lifeguard, travel agent and medical billing. And she had started her certified nursing assistant certification, and beauty classes. The key word being started. She hadn’t finished any of the courses, including pastry school. Matthew seemed…settled. Secure. Responsible. The exact opposite of her.
A feeling of inferiority washed over her. Compared to Matthew, she was…scatterbrained. She slid a glance Matthew’s way. He appeared to be deep in thought, his eyebrows practically meeting in the middle, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he was having second thoughts about hiring her. Not that she could blame him.
A little hand tapped the back of her seat and she turned around to look into Connor’s smiling face.
“Do you have a step stool?” he asked.
“No.” She bit her lower lip. “But we’ll manage.”
Matthew chimed in. “You can always bake in my kitchen. I’m pretty sure I have every gadget known to man thanks to…” Torryn figured Matthew was referring to his wife, but it appeared that talking about her was difficult for him.
Just then her phone rang. It was someone asking about her dog-walking fees. Putting her best customer-rep voice on, she pulled up the calendar app on her phone.
“Thanks for offering the use of your kitchen,” she whispered once she was off the phone. “Are you sure you don’t mind me puttering around in your wife's space?”
“I don't mind. My housekeeper, Anna, comes in three times a week to clean so I just have to let her know. She actually prefers to prepare my meals at her own place. So, it’s no problem at all.”
From the Ryder Hill Series:
Book 1: The Family Next Door
