“Were you really here last fall?” she asked.
“Briefly. I had a client.”
“Dominique Guérin. I know. I’m friends with her daughter.” Patience tilted her head. “Why didn’t you look me up then?”
Before he could figure out an excuse that sounded better than he’d been apprehensive—which was, he admitted, a fancy way to say “scared”—a girl walked into the store. She was maybe ten or eleven with long brown hair and familiar brown eyes. She glanced around, then skipped over to their table.
“Hi, Mom.”
Patience turned and smiled. “Hey, baby. How’d you know I was here?”
“Julia told me you were going for coffee.” Her gaze slid to Justice. “With a man.”
Patience sighed. “This town does love to gossip.” She put her arm around the girl. “Lillie, this is Justice Garrett. He’s a friend of mine. Justice, this is my daughter, Lillie.”
CHAPTER TWO
AS SOON AS Patience said the word daughter, she knew there was a problem. How was she supposed to casually mention she wasn’t married in front of her daughter and while Justice’s gaze slid directly to her left ring finger? Just as complicated was the burning need to cut to the chase and blurt out “I’m single.” A need she resisted. Giving him information was one thing. Sounding desperate was another.
“Hi,” Lillie said, leaning into Patience, her expression both shy and curious. “How do you know Mom?”
“I knew her when she was only a little older than you.”
Lillie turned to her. “Really, Mom?”
“Uh-huh. I was fourteen when I knew Justice. He lived here for a while. Then he had to move away. We’re old friends.”
More friends than old, she thought. At least that was her hope.
She kept her arm around her daughter. “Lillie is ten and the smartest, most talented, beautiful girl in all of Fool’s Gold.”
Her daughter giggled. “Mom always says that.” She leaned toward Justice and lowered her voice. “It’s not really true, but she loves me so she believes it.”
“That’s the best kind of love to have.”
She was about to go for it and say she wasn’t married when it occurred to her that she didn’t know anything about Justice’s personal life. She sucked in a breath and fought against the heat she felt burning on her cheeks. What if he was half of a happy couple with a dozen or so charmingly attractive children?
Why, oh why had she admitted she had a crush on him without getting a few facts? She really had to start practicing thinking before speaking. The evening news was always showing great stories about some eighty-year-old getting a high school diploma or learning to read. Surely she could teach herself to self-edit.
“Justice has moved back to Fool’s Gold,” Patience said. “He’s going to...” She paused. “I have no idea what you’re going to do here.”
“Open a bodyguard training facility. My partners and I haven’t worked out the details yet, but we’re going to offer security training for professionals along with corporate team building and survival training.”
“Stuff you do outside?” Lillie asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“Mom doesn’t like going outside.”
Justice turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not a huge fan of weather and dirt,” Patience explained. “It’s not like I have to live in a plastic bubble.” She offered a weak smile. “So, um, you’ll be moving your family here?”
“You have a family?” Lillie asked. “Any kids?”
“No. It’s just me.”
A score for the home team, Patience thought with relief. “Lillie is the only one I have,” she said, hoping she sounded casual. “Her dad and I split a long time ago.”
“I don’t remember him,” Lillie offered. “I don’t see him.” She looked as though she was going to say something else, then stopped.
Patience had hoped for some reaction from Justice at the news of her not being married. A fist pump would have been perfect, but there wasn’t any hint as to what he was thinking. At least he didn’t bolt out of the building. She supposed she could take that as a good sign. And he had looked her up on his own. It wasn’t as if she’d gone looking for him or they’d run into each other.
On the other hand, he’d probably left the witness protection program years ago and he’d never bothered to get in touch with her. The men in her life tended to leave. Her father. Lillie’s dad. Justice. A case could be made that Justice hadn’t chosen to leave, but he also hadn’t chosen to reconnect. At least not until now.
She drew in a breath. She needed a bit of distance to gain some perspective. Justice was an old friend. She didn’t have to make any assessments of his character at this very second. She also had errands to run and a thousand life details to take care of. She wanted to spend more time with him, to get to know the man he’d become. Just not here in the middle of town.
“Come to dinner,” she said before she could stop herself. “Please. I’d like to catch up more and I know my mom would love to see you.”
His expression softened. “She still lives around here?”
“We all live together,” Lillie told him. “Mom and me and Grandma. It’s a house of women.”
Patience laughed. “Obviously a phrase she’s heard before.” She shrugged. “I’m back at home. I moved out briefly while I was married, then came back with Lillie. It works out for all of us.” Ava had company, Patience had support so she could feel less like a single parent and Lillie had the constancy kids craved.
His dark blue eyes didn’t seem to judge, for which she was grateful. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Pretty well. She has good days and bad days.”
“It’s lasagna night,” Lillie told him. “With garlic bread.”
Justice gave her an easy smile. “Well, then. How could I say no?” He turned his attention to Patience. “What time?”
“Six work for you?”
“It does.”
She stood. “Great. We’ll see you then. You remember where the house is?”
He rose and nodded. “I’ll see you at six.”
* * *
PATIENCE FORCED HERSELF to walk at her usual pace. She wanted to run, or at the very least, skip or jump. But that would require an explanation and probably some nervous phone calls from neighbors to local law enforcement.
Lillie chatted about her day at school. Patience did her best to pay attention, but she had a difficult time. Her mind kept wandering back to her unexpected encounter with Justice. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that he’d shown up without warning. Talk about a blast from the past.
They turned up the walkway leading to the house. She paused, looking at it with a critical eye, wondering what Justice would see.
The color was different. Pale yellow instead of white. The winter had been late with the first snow not arriving until Christmas Eve, but then hanging around for weeks. Daffodils, crocuses and tulips had arrived in mid-March to brighten up the garden. The last of them were making one final effort before disappearing in the warming days of spring. The lawn wasn’t too bad and the front porch looked inviting. She’d put out the bench and two chairs just the previous weekend.
The house itself was two stories. Like many homes in this part of town, it had been built in the 1940s and was a Craftsman style with big front windows and lots of little details like built-ins and moldings.
Lillie led the way up the stairs and through the front door.
Inside there weren’t many changes. A different sofa, a couple of new appliances in the kitchen. When Patience had moved back shortly after her divorce, her mother had made a few modifications. The three bedrooms upstairs had become two, with the smaller rooms being combined into a decent-sized master suite. A second master had already been added off the main floor. It jutted out into the oversized backyard. A necessary addition, given Ava’s condition.
When Patience was thirteen, her mother had been diagnosed with MS. If there was a “good” kind, Ava had it. The disease progressed slowly and she was still mobile. But there were hard days and climbing the stairs had become too difficult. With the additional master downstairs, that wasn’t necessary.
“Grandma, Grandma, guess who I met today?” Lillie asked as she burst into the house.
Ava was in her home office. An open area with a desk, three computer monitors and keyboards. A technological marvel that could make NASA envious. Apparently computer smarts skipped a generation. Lillie could do almost anything on a computer, while Patience had trouble working her smartphone.
“Who did you meet?” Ava asked, holding open her arms.
Lillie ran toward her and retrieved her afternoon hug. They hung on to each other for several seconds, a daily ritual Patience always found gratifying.
“Justice Garrett,” Patience said, standing in the doorway to the study.
Her mother stared at her. “That boy who disappeared?”
“That’s the one. He’s back in town, and he’s not a boy anymore.”
Ava smiled. “I would hope not. As it is, he has plenty of explaining to do. What happened? Did he say where he’d been?”
“He was in the witness protection program.”
Ava’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Patience glanced at Lillie, a signal that she didn’t want to go into the details right then. Her ten-year-old didn’t need to know there were parents awful enough to want to kill their own children.
“We invited him to dinner,” Lillie said. “He said yes after I told him about the lasagna.”
“Of course,” her grandmother said. “Who could resist lasagna?”
Lillie laughed.
“He’ll be here at six.” Patience glanced at her watch. That gave her barely enough time to shower, put on makeup and obsess about what to wear.
Ava’s brown eyes twinkled. “You probably want to go get ready.”
“I thought I might change my clothes. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Of course not.”
“He’s just an old friend.”
“Yes, he is.”
Patience grinned. “Don’t make this more than it is.”
“Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
* * *
AT TWENTY MINUTES to six, Patience was in her bedroom. She’d showered, blown out her long, wavy hair until it was straight, traded in her work T-shirt for a light green twin set in a fine-gauge knit and her black jeans for a dark blue fitted pair. Then she’d put on a dress, followed by a shirt and blouse before settling on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that proclaimed her the queen of everything. She was the single mother of a ten-year-old who also happened to live in the same house where she’d grown up, with her mother. There wasn’t an outfit on the planet that could disguise the truth. Not that she wanted to change anything about her life. Or apologize. She’d made a good life for herself and her daughter. It’s just that thinking about Justice made her nervous. He would either respect her choices, good and bad, or he would go away.
She went downstairs and found her mother and Lillie in the kitchen. The table was set. The last of the tulips in the garden had been cut and placed in a glass vase. The smell of lasagna and garlic filled the house.
“Relax,” her mother told her.
“I’m relaxed. Shrill and relaxed. It’s a great combination.”
Ava smiled with amusement. “So, is Justice coming alone?”
“Yes. He said he wasn’t married.”
“And he doesn’t have kids,” Lillie offered. “He should have a family.”
Patience turned to her mother. “Don’t you start anything.”
“Me? I’m happy to welcome one of your school friends back to town. Nothing more.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s keep it that way.”
“I am curious about his past, though.”
Patience held in a groan. “Please, Mom, you can’t.”
“I’m the mother,” Ava reminded her with a wink. “I can do just about anything.”
* * *
JUSTICE STOOD ON the sidewalk and stared at the familiar house. Very little had changed. The color, maybe the garden, but nothing else. Off to the side, he could see a wheelchair ramp, but it led to the back door rather than the front. For Ava, he thought.
As he walked up the stairs, he braced for what he might find. Patience’s mother had always welcomed him into their home. She’d been kind and motherly. As a kid who’d grown up surrounded by a lot of fear, he’d soaked up the affection she’d offered. She provided an emotional haven and he’d missed her nearly as much as he’d missed Patience when he’d had to leave.
He didn’t know a lot about her disease, but he knew it was relentless and cruel. He told himself he’d seen worse. That his job was not to react. Then he rang the bell.
Lillie opened it seconds later and smiled at him. “Hi,” she said cheerfully. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m starving and the garlic bread smells so good.” She stepped back to allow him entry, then turned to yell, “Mom, Mr. Garrett is here.”
Patience walked into the living room. “Indoor voice, remember?” She glanced at him. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Thanks for the invitation to dinner.”
She looked good. Her hair was long and sleek with the kind of shine that invited hands to touch. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with a girl in a crown on the front. “Queen of Everything” was written underneath. She was curvy enough to keep things intriguing, and when she smiled, he felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Fourteen-year-old Patience had made his voice crack. Grown-up Patience was physically beautiful, emotionally sweet and intellectually challenging. A lethal combination.