Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel Read online

  And since it was sunny outside, she took her coffee out to the private backyard where, still wearing her silky nightgown and robe, she made herself comfortable on the padded lounge chair. She peeled off her robe and soaked in the sun as well as the flowers and greenery and chirping birds. She felt like she’d landed in paradise. And really, it did feel like a vacation—a much-needed vacation!

  “Whoa!” a man said.

  She nearly spilt her coffee as she looked up to see a tall man in a light blue chambray shirt and blue jeans smiling down on her.

  “Who are you?” She set down her coffee and grabbed up her robe, holding it in front of her like a shield.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said with what sounded like a British or perhaps it was an Australian accent. “I’m Mick Foster. Who, may I ask, are you?”

  She checked him out more closely now. His heavy brown boots were scuffed and his brown hair needed a trim. But all in all, he was strikingly handsome in a rugged sort of way. He looked a bit like Matthew McConaughey, and she could almost imagine him posing for a cover of one of the steamy romance novels penned by Penelope Poindexter a.k.a. Aunt Dee a.k.a. her grandmother. Standing, she pulled on her robe and tied it tightly about her waist. “I’m Daphne Ballinger.”

  He frowned. “Wh—what?”

  “I’m Dee Ballinger’s niece,” she explained, backing toward the house.

  “Ah, well, yes, that makes sense. But the name threw me. I knew you couldn’t be Dee Ballinger, but I know her name is Daphne.” A smile lit his face. “Although, now that I think on it, I reckon Dee’s mentioned you a time or two. You’re the niece who lives in New York City.”

  She decided to use a no-nonsense tone now—her way to put the brakes on what felt like a far-too-personal encounter. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  His smile only grew bigger. “Well, I’m not too sure. But I’d certainly be willing to find out.”

  She suspected he was flirting with her. And understandably so. Finding a girl sunbathing in a skimpy nightie probably seemed like something of an invitation. “I’m sorry, Mick.” She narrowed her eyes. “But I don’t recall if you mentioned what your business here is.” Her hand was on the knob of the back door now and she was ready to bolt.

  “Oh yeah, sorry about that. My bad manners. I’m Dee’s groundskeeper.”

  She relaxed a little now. “Oh, my dad mentioned that my aunt had help with her gardens. I’ve been admiring how gorgeous everything looks. I’ve never seen her yard looking better.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” He glanced over to the hedge in back. “Then you probably noticed that the veggie garden still needs some attention. I got some of the spring plants set a little more than a week ago, before I had to go to Brookdale to work on a big new project, but there’s still lots to be done if Dee wants to pick her tomatoes in time for—”

  “Didn’t you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  Daphne sighed. “My aunt passed away. Less than a week ago. We had her funeral service yesterday.”

  He cocked his head to one side with a furrowed brow. She could tell he was both saddened and shocked. “Dee’s passed on? Truly?”

  “Yes, she died in her sleep.”

  “And she and I were just out here, just last Monday, walking about her yard, talking and laughing and making plans.” He shook his head. “I can hardly believe it.”

  “She was quite elderly.”

  “Dee?” He rubbed his chin. “Well, yeah, I suppose she was getting up there in years. But she had a youthful spirit.” He peered at her. “Don’t you think?”

  “I always thought that. In fact, I was kind of shocked to hear how old she was. Ninety-one.”

  “No kidding?” He blew out a long sigh. “Well, I got to give it to her. The old girl knew how to live. I reckon we can all take a lesson from her.”

  She just nodded, unsure of how to proceed. “So, I suppose you can still do whatever it is you wanted to do to her yard . . . or garden or whatever.”

  “Yeah, I reckon I could. But you see, I don’t work for just anybody.” He folded his arms across his front, studying her. “I decided a while back that life’s too short to work for the wrong people. Or in the wrong yards.”

  “Really? You can afford to be that choosy in a small town like this?”

  “So who would I be working for now? If I decided I wanted to continue here.”

  “For now, you’d be working for me.” She held up her chin, looking evenly at him, almost as if challenging him to walk away.

  But instead his blue eyes twinkled with interest. “Well, I reckon I can handle that.” He tipped his head to one side. “That is, unless you’re awfully bossy. Are you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know much about gardening so it’s unlikely I’d try to tell you what to do.”

  “And there’s another thing,” he said as she opened the door.

  “What’s that?”

  “Dee always invited me in for tea or coffee. Sometimes she had cookies. Or else she’d bring lemonade out here for me. It wasn’t just a business relationship. It was a social one too. How do you reckon you’d deal with that?”

  She couldn’t help but smile as she imagined Aunt Dee looking down right now and chuckling. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

  “Right.” He stuck out his hand. “Then I reckon we can seal this deal with a handshake.”

  She gave him her hand and was surprised at the warm tingly rush she got as he firmly shook it. “Well, if you will excuse me, I’d like to go get dressed.”

  “No worries, Daphne, but I reckon you look just fine as is.” He grinned, then turned and walked away.

  Her cheeks felt flushed as she went into the kitchen. As she got a cool drink of water, she looked out the kitchen window to see his truck in the driveway. She didn’t know what year the olive green truck was, but she could tell it was from the fifties. And it was in perfect condition. Wooden rails ran along the sides of the bed, where it looked as if gardening tools were stored. On the cab’s door it said The Garden Guy in neat white letters. Was that Mick or perhaps the name of the landscaping business he worked for?

  She watched as he gracefully hoisted a wheelbarrow from the back of his truck. He was easily six foot four, and although she wasn’t sure, she suspected he was about her age. Anyway, he was probably thirtysomething. For some reason, probably the way he was looking at her, she suspected he was a bachelor. However, she knew better than to make that assumption . . . again.

  Shaking her head, she set down the glass and hurried upstairs to get dressed. She wished she’d packed some more casual clothes—like the jeans and sweatshirts she often wore at home during the weekends. Right now the best she could do was her khaki pants and a white shirt. Not exactly gardening clothes. But then it wasn’t as if she was going to help him out there. All she had committed to was coffee or lemonade.

  But first she decided to e-mail Amelia, giving her notice that she was quitting. She carefully worded the letter, thinking that she didn’t want to burn any bridges, especially since she had no idea how she’d be feeling one year from now. But when she hit Send, she felt confident that she’d made the right decision. The question now was whether Amelia would try to talk her out of it. Or if she would demand that Daphne give her two more weeks of work. Daphne had offered to work from Appleton or, if necessary, to come back in—but only for two weeks.

  With her laptop on the kitchen table, Daphne peeked out the back window to see if she could spy on Mick, but he must’ve been working behind the hedge. She was eager to see what the vegetable garden looked like and was about to go out when she heard her computer ping announcing she had mail. Surprised to see that Amelia had already responded, Daphne braced herself for her boss’s demands.

  No problem. Resignation accepted.
Come in and clean out your desk. Or I’ll ask Fiona to do it for you. Contact Fiona with your forwarding information and where to send your last check.

  Amelia

  Daphne tried not to feel overly slighted as she snapped her laptop shut. Really, she should be relieved. But it stung slightly to be so dispensable—and after all these years too. It was humiliating. And it hurt.

  “Where’s that lemonade?” Mick hollered into the house.

  She went to the opened door where his head poked through. “I don’t have lemonade, but I think there’s some punch leftover from yesterday. And I do have coffee already made. Or I can make tea.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” He stepped into the house now, peering curiously at her. “You look like you lost your best friend.”

  She shrugged. “I just gave notice on my job.”

  “Oh yeah, that’s tough. Change is always hard at first.”

  “That’s not it,” she confessed. “I think I’m ready for change.”

  “Oh . . . what’s the problem, then?”

  “The problem is that my boss didn’t even care. She was like, no problem, like what took you so long to quit?”

  “That is rough.” He made a half smile. “But aren’t all New Yorkers a bit like that? Rather abrupt and sharp and impatient?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Although you don’t seem like that. I reckon you didn’t really fit into the big city life. Not really.”

  “No, I suppose not.” She was caught off guard that a yardman’s consolation could bring such comfort. “I’ll be out with your coffee. How do you take yours?”

  “Cream and sugar, please. I’ll be out in the veggie garden. I’d like your opinion on some things.”

  She made their coffees, then went outside. As she walked through the yard, she wasn’t sure what to make of Mick Foster. On one hand, he was a little rough around the edges, yet on the other hand, he seemed to have some depth to him. And she got the impression that Aunt Dee and he had shared some special sort of relationship. That alone made her curious. Plus, he was very easy on the eyes. And she loved the accent!

  “Here you go,” she said as she found him sitting in a white Adirondack chair looking over what appeared to be a well-laid-out garden with raised beds. Already a lot of bright green plants were growing nicely. “This is wonderful back here.” She sat on the other chair, just taking it all in.

  “Thanks. It was a fun little project.”

  “I had no idea anything this lovely lay behind that hedge. When I was a little girl this was just a wasteland of weeds and blackberries and tall grass. Aunt Dee called it no-man’s-land and the one time I came back here, I was frightened off by a big black-and-yellow snake.

  “Probably a garter snake. Not dangerous.”

  “Still it was scary to a little girl.” She took a sip of coffee.

  “So what scares the big girl?”

  Caught off guard again, she wasn’t sure how to answer.

  “I reckon giving up your big New York City job is a bit frightening.”

  “To be honest, it’s a little unnerving. But it’s even more upsetting to think that what I’ve invested myself into—for all these years—really doesn’t matter. My boss knows I’m replaceable.”

  “Then you should be thankful you’re not there anymore.” He took a sip. “Good coffee.”

  “Thanks.”

  “The only thing worse than being stuck in a bad career is not having the good sense to get out.” Mick grinned. “And now you’re out.”

  “You sound like you’ve had some experience in a bad career.”

  “Oh yeah, I have. I spent more’n my fair share of time in the corporate world.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Investment broker.” He shook his head. “Family corporation. Where the money was. After university, I got stuck in an office in Sydney for ten long years that I’ll never get back.”

  She nodded. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “I’d escape my corporate prison on weekends by hanging on the beach—surfing all day and staying out all night. Then I’d go back into the office on Monday with a nasty disposition and by Tuesday I’d be counting the days until the next weekend.”

  “Sounds delightful,” she said sarcastically.

  “Delightfully stupid.” He shook his head. “Best thing that ever happened to me was when the economy started to unravel. I wished my dad good luck and kissed my mum good-bye and set off to find a life.”

  “And that brought you here?”

  “Not directly. I did some traveling first. And I noticed a pattern—wherever I went, no matter what kind of amazing sights there were to see, more than anything I wanted to visit the local gardens. I’ve toured gardens all over the globe. And each time I’d talk to gardeners and groundskeepers, when there wasn’t a language barrier, and they all seemed to have one thing in common.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A sense of contentment and peace. Something I was lacking.”

  “But you’ve found it?”

  “Yeah. Nothing makes me happier than having my hands in the dirt, making things grow, planning new green spaces.” He grinned. “It’s all good.”

  “So The Garden Guy is your business?”

  “Sure is.”

  “And what made you pick Appleton?”

  “Well, I fell in love with the States straight off. And it was just far enough from my family that they couldn’t attempt to drag me back into the business. Then I did some research, trying to find an area with good soil and a climate conducive to gardening, and I visited a few towns, but Appleton just seemed to stand out.”

  “So you could’ve lived anywhere in the world and you picked Appleton?” For some reason this stunned her. As much as she loved her hometown, she had always taken it for granted.

  “Yeah. I picked Appleton. And I have no regrets.”

  “Do you do a lot of people’s yards around here?”

  “Not really.” He finished his coffee and stood.

  “How did my aunt discover you?”

  “Now that’s an interesting story.” He set his cup down. “But I’m not sure I have time to tell it to you this morning. Right now, I’d like to get your opinion on some things.” He pointed over to a wood frame. “I want to put in berries over there, but I need to know which you prefer.” He listed off berry varieties.

  “Raspberries,” she told him. “I don’t even care what kind. Whatever you think is best. But I love raspberries.”

  “Good on you.” He walked her over to an area that hadn’t been planted and listed vegetables he thought would do well there. Eventually they decided on a number of things. “And the salad garden.” He took her to where some plants were growing. “Do you want anything besides the lettuces, radishes, green onions, carrots—?”

  “I love all and any kinds of vegetables. I can’t even imagine how heavenly it’ll be to come out here and pick them from my own garden.”

  His brows arched. “So are you the new owner, then? Did Dee leave this all to you? Or are you just temporarily holding the fort?”

  “I plan to be around for a year. We’ll see after that.”

  “All right then, we should discuss the herb garden over there.” He pointed to a smaller bed. “Dee had asked me to start on that. How do you feel about herbs?”

  “I adore herbs.”

  As he began listing off herbs, she imagined all the cooking she could do in Aunt Dee’s kitchen, with access to herbs out the back door. Really, it felt almost too good to be true.

  Chapter 9

  Hello?” called a man from somewhere on the other side of the hedge. “Anyone home?”

  “We’re back here,” Daphne called out. “That sounds like Jake McPheete
rs,” she told Mick. “My aunt’s attorney.”

  “Go through that green gate to get back here,” Mick said.

  Soon Jake joined them, looking out of place in his tidy navy suit and neatly striped tie. But he just smiled, taking time to shake hands with Mick before turning to Daphne. “Sorry to drop in on you like this, but the court case I’m working on took a recess until after lunch, and I tried to call you but no one answered. So I thought I’d just pop over and see if you wanted to sign the papers I sent home with you yesterday.”

  “Yes. I read through them last night.” She looked back at Mick. “Do you need anything more from me?”

  Mick’s eyes lit up. “Not at the moment, but I’ll be more than glad to take you up on that offer later.”

  Her cheeks warmed at the suggestion in his tone. “Thanks, Mick, I’ll keep that in mind.” She turned back to Jake. “Should we go inside?”

  Jake chuckled as they went into the kitchen. “You certainly don’t waste any time,” he said as he closed the back door.

  “What?” She set the coffee cups in the sink and rinsed her hands.

  “I mean regarding Dee’s marital challenge.”

  She narrowed her eyes as she dried her hands on the dish towel. “What are you insinuating?”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not trying to insult you, Daphne. After all, you’re a pretty young woman and you’re new in town. It’s no wonder you’ve already attracted some admirers.”

  “What do you mean by that?” She picked up the envelope of papers she’d set on the china hutch as well as a pen, then went over to the kitchen table and peered curiously at him.

  “Sorry.” He smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

  She frowned. “I still don’t get what you’re saying.”

  “I happened to drive by Midge’s Diner when I was taking Jenna home last night.”