encouraging, rather than sending her scurrying back to wherever she’d come from before she’d even started.
“So what do you think?”
Harrison looked up and squinted at Mrs. Jones. He had no idea what she’d just asked him. “Sorry?”
“About whether she has a husband? Suzie Croft met her and was certain she had a mark on her finger where a ring had been, but I told her it was none of our business why she’d come here without a husband.” The older woman tut-tutted. “We advertised for someone looking for a fresh start, and that’s what we can give her. Isn’t that right?”
Harrison raised an eyebrow. Mrs. Jones liked to gossip better than all the rest of them combined. “I’d say we’ll just have to wait to find out more about Ms. Carter, once she’s good and ready to tell us her business.”
Who cared if she was married or not? Or whether she had a husband. All he cared about was that she was kind to his children, taught them well and stuck around to keep the school from closure. Tick all three off the list and he wouldn’t care if she was married to a darn monkey.
“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder as he carried the groceries out the door. “See you later in the week.”
The little bell above tinkled when he pushed the door open. He waited for his kids to catch up and race past him.
An hour at the school, then back home—that was the plan. And he was darned if he wasn’t going to stick to it.
* * *
Poppy was starting to think she’d taken on more than she could cope with. The room was looking like a complete bomb site, and she didn’t know where to start. It wasn’t as if she could just pop down to a paint store and buy some bright colors to splash on the walls. Here it was do it yourself or don’t do it at all.
She sighed and gathered her hair up into a high ponytail, sick of pushing it off her face each time she bent down.
Right now she had a heap of bright orange stars she’d cut out from a stack of paper, ready to stick together and pin across one wall. Then she planned on decorating one rumpty old wall with huge hearts and stars made with her silver sprinkles, before drawing the outline of a large tree for the older children to color in for her. She had stickers of animals and birds that could be placed on the branches, but for everything else she was going to have to rely on her own artistic skills. And her own money.
She didn’t have as much of that as she was used to, but at least being here meant she didn’t have anywhere to spend it. Groceries from the local store, her measly one-dollar rent and enough to keep the house running—it was all she needed, and she was going to make it work.
“Hello?”
Poppy jumped. Either she was starting to hear things or she wasn’t alone. Again. But surely it wasn’t...
Harrison Black. Only this time he brought his children with him into the room.
“Hey,” she said, standing up and stretching her back. “What are you guys doing here?”
Harrison held up two bags, a smile kicking up the corners of his mouth. “We come bearing gifts,” he said.
She grinned at the children as they stood close to their dad, both smiling at her. So this was his way of apologizing—coming back with something to bribe her with.
“You’re not here to help me, are you?” she asked them, crouching down, knowing they’d approach her if she was at their level.
It worked. Both children came closer, shuffling in her direction.
“Now, let me try to remember,” she said, looking from one child to the other. “You’re Alex—” she pointed to the girl “—and you’re Katie, right?”
They both burst out laughing, shaking their heads.
“No!” Katie giggled. “I’m Katie and he’s Alex.”
Poppy laughed along with them before glancing up at their dad. “I’m glad that’s sorted then. Imagine if I’d got that wrong tomorrow?”
The children started to inspect her bits and pieces, so she moved closer to Harrison. She wasn’t one to hold grudges, and with two happy children in the room, it wasn’t exactly easy not to smile in his direction. Even if he had been beyond rude less than a few hours earlier.
“So what’s in the bag?” she asked him.
“A peace offering,” he replied, one hand braced against the door as he watched her.
Poppy just raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.
“Dinner for us all.”
Her eyebrows rose even farther at that. “Your idea or theirs?” she asked, hooking a finger in the kids’ direction.
Harrison sighed, and it made her smile. She guessed he wasn’t used to apologies or to being questioned. “Theirs, but it was a good one, if that makes it sound any better.”
Poppy was done with grilling him. “I’m just kidding. It’s the thought that counts, and I’m starving.”
He held up the paper bags and cringed. “I just had a really bad thought—that you might be vegetarian.”
She shook her head. “I’d like to be, but I’m not.” Poppy took the bags from him and placed them on an upturned desk. “I love that they still use paper bags here.”
“Plastic is the devil, according to Mrs. Jones, so don’t even get her started on that topic.” Harrison stood back, letting Poppy inspect the contents. “Although she has an opinion about most things, so that kind of applies for any questions you throw her way.”
Poppy laughed and pulled out the cake. “Now, this is what I call a peace offering!”
A hand on her leg made her turn.
“The cake was my idea.” Katie pointed at it. “Daddy said no, but...”
“Uh-hmm.” Harrison cleared his throat, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “How about you help Ms. Carter and I’ll head out and fire up the barbecue?”
Poppy grinned and let Katie take her hand and lead her back to the pile of things she’d been working on.
Harrison Black might be gruff and forthright, but his daughter had him all figured out.
Poppy looked over her shoulder as he walked out the door, bag under one arm as he strode off to cook dinner. His shoulders were broad, once again nearly filling the doorway as he passed through. And she was certain that he’d be wondering why the hell he’d let his daughter talk him into coming back to help her.
* * *
Harrison was starting to realize he hadn’t planned this at all. They had no napkins, no plates and an old pair of tongs was his only usable utensil. His one saving grace was that the ketchup was in a squeeze bottle.
He looked up to see his children running toward
