The Millionaire and the Mum

J ack had no trouble finding the Johnson place. It was clearly marked with a neat white sign hanging from a rose-covered trellis.

JOHNSON NURSERY

Old Country Roses

Open Wednesday through Saturday,

10 a.m.-6 p.m.

A long gravel driveway wound through a large field surrounded by trees, gradually ending in a parking area beyond which sat a two-story redbrick and white frame house with a wraparound porch. To the right of the driveway was a garden area that contained dozens of rosebushes, interspersed with other kinds of flowers, although not many were in bloom now. Dotted around the grassy area surrounding the house were tripods and birdhouses and small trellises that were used as support structures for what Jack guessed would be called climbing rosebushes. Some of them had lots of roses in bloom, others only a few. To his left he saw half-a-dozen greenhouses, and behind the house he could see part of a barn and another greenhouse. The man at the motel hadn’t exaggerated. Everything in Jack’s line of sight showed storm damage, although the house and the rose garden seemed to have escaped with the least damage.

To the left of the house was a sweet gum tree that looked unstable. Several branches had been severed or partially severed and the trunk itself looked as if it had been split. As Jack drove closer, he saw that there was some kind of tree house in the sweet gum.

Somewhere out of sight he could hear a child, and down by the greenhouses, he thought he saw someone working. Looked like a woman, too. Maybe it was Beth Johnson. Turning off the ignition, he decided he would head that way.

Beth shaded her eyes and watched the unfamiliar red truck enter her property and come slowly up the road leading to the house.

She frowned. She didn’t recognize the truck, but maybe it was a customer. Pulling off her gloves, she walked toward the house.

Halfway there, she heard Matthew. His voice came from the back of the house. “Amy! Where are you?”

“I’m right here!” Amy answered.

Beth’s heart knocked painfully against her rib cage as she spotted Amy, who was just emerging from the tree house, Pooh bear clutched in her arms.

“Oh, my God! Amy!” she shouted. She began to run.

Although Beth’s entire concentration was focused on her daughter, who had begun to descend the tree house stairs, she was aware that a tall, dark-haired man had climbed out of the truck and, until she’d shouted, had been heading her way.

Suddenly there was a horrible cracking noise, and the sweet gum tilted to the left.

“Amy!” Beth screamed.

The stranger dashed toward Amy, reached up and snatched her off the ladder and, with Amy safely cradled in his arms, leaped out of the way just before the tree crashed to the ground. Once clear of the area, he gently set her on her feet.

“Mama!” Amy cried, racing toward Beth.

Beth nearly collapsed in relief. Tears ran down her face as she whisked her daughter—who also began to cry—up into her arms. “Oh, Amy,” she said, kissing her again and again. “You scared me. Why did you go into the tree house after I told you not to! You could have been killed.”

“I’m sorry, Mama. I just wanted my Pooh bear. He was scared up there by himself!”

Beth knew that to Amy, her Pooh bear was as real as her brother, and almost as important. “Hush, sugar. It’s okay. You’re okay. But don’t you ever, ever, disobey me again, do you hear? No matter what the reason is.”

“I won’t,” Amy said, her voice muffled as she buried her head against Beth’s neck.

By now a white-faced Matthew had joined them. “I had to go to the bathroom, Mama, but she promised me she wouldn’t move off the porch until I got back.”

Normally Beth might have scolded him, but just then, she didn’t have the heart to. She knew he’d been as frightened as she was. Taking a deep breath, she finally turned her attention to the heaven-sent stranger who had saved her daughter. Meeting his eyes over Amy’s head, she said in a voice that still trembled a bit, “How can I ever thank you?”

He shrugged. “No thanks necessary. I’m just glad I was here.” Then he put out his right hand. “Jack Stokes, ma’am.”

His handshake was firm and strong. “Beth Johnson.” Now that her heart was calmer, she began to assess the man who stood before her. He was very good-looking, in a rugged, Marlboro man sort of way, with a deep tan, dark thick hair cut short, and striking blue eyes. “And these are my children,” she added. “Matthew and Amy.”

Matthew said a polite hello.

Jack smiled down at him and offered his hand once more.

Matthew grinned and the two shook hands.

Beth couldn’t help smiling.

Amy finally raised her head. After hiccuping, she gave Jack a shy smile.

“Hello, little lady,” he said.

“Hi,” she said in a tiny voice.

“You probably think I’m a bad mother,” Beth said, “but I told them to stay away from the tree.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Matthew said. Once again, he looked as if he were going to cry.

Beth squeezed his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, honey.” It really wasn’t. It was Beth’s fault Amy had been in danger. No matter how much work Beth had to do, that was no excuse for not watching her children more closely. “But it sure is a lucky thing for us that Mr. Stokes happened along when he did,” Beth added, turning back toward him. Now that she in control of her emotions, and Amy was safe, she was once more curious about why the man was there.

“Well, ma’am, I didn’t just happen along. I heard from Mr. Temple down at the Temple Motel that you needed some help here, and I came out to ask you for a job.”

Beth blinked. A job? He needed a job? Her gaze swept over his well-kept red pickup truck, his nice-fitting jeans, the worn but obviously well-made boots he wore, his clean hands and good haircut. Not to mention his teeth which—even though he had yet to smile—were white and straight and quite clearly teeth that had been cared for.

He sure didn’t look like he needed a job. Yet he had saved Amy from possible serious injury, so for that reason alone he deserved to have his request taken at face value. “I’m sorry,” she said with genuine regret. “I can’t afford to hire anyone.”

“I’d work real cheap.”

Beth grimaced. “I have to be honest. The only way I could afford you is if you’d work for free.”

He thought for a minute. “Tell you what. If you’ll give me a job, I’d be willing to work for room and board.”

Room and board? Was he serious? Why would he be willing to work for room and board? Something didn’t add up.

“I’m real handy,” he persisted. “And I’m not afraid of hard work. I could help you get those buildings in order again.” He gestured toward the greenhouses, then turned to the sweet gum. “I could get that tree cleared out, too.”

It was only then Beth realized she was doubly lucky. Not only had he helped avert disaster by saving Amy, but the sweet gum had fallen away from the house.

“I’m afraid that tree house can’t be salvaged, though,” he said.

They both looked at the tree house, which had been demolished by the tree falling on top of it.

Amy’s lower lip quivered, and Beth knew what she was thinking. Eben had built that tree house, one of the few things he’d ever made for the kids, and Amy, in particular, had loved it.