The Secrets Between Them

“But you won’t be making nearly as much money working for me,” Hannah pointed out.

“I don’t need a lot of money right now. I do, however, need a place to live in the area, at least temporarily, and your ad did say room and board was included.”

“I can offer you that,” Hannah agreed. “You’d have the room on the second floor all to yourself. It’s furnished, of course, and there’s a bathroom with a shower stall up there, too. It was my room when I was growing up, then my husband used it as his study after Will was born so we could put Will in the spare bedroom downstairs. I can also provide three meals a day as part of the package.”

“Having sampled your chocolate chip cookies, I’d say that sounds very good to me.”

He shot a wry grin her way as he took a third cookie from the can on the table.

“I am a pretty good cook,” Hannah admitted, allowing the slightest hint of pride to edge her words as she smiled, too.

“I’d like to sign on with you, then, Hannah…if you’ll have me.”

“I appreciate your interest, but in all fairness I really should take you for a walk around the property first so you’ll know exactly what you have ahead of you. Do you have any rain gear with you?”

“A jacket in the Jeep. I’ll get it and meet you on the porch, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hannah replied as she pushed away from the table and stood.

Evan stood, as well, picked up his mug and carried it to the sink, then started toward the door. Hannah put the lid on the cookie tin, then followed after him to collect her own rain jacket from the row of pegs on the wall.

“Can me and Nellie go with you, too?” Will asked as he scrambled to his feet along with the dog, his blocks forgotten.

“Nellie and I,” Hannah corrected gently. “And yes, you can go with us. But first get a towel from the bathroom cabinet to dry Nellie when we’re ready to come inside again.”

“Okay.”

As Will scampered off, Nellie galloping after him, Hannah turned back to Evan. She saw him watching her son, his gaze intent. The vaguely bemused look in his eyes gave her pause all over again.

Was he as honest and as decent as she wanted to believe he was? Or was he hiding something unsavory about himself and his reason for being there behind a careful facade meant to give her a false sense of security?

“Is something wrong?” she asked him, her voice wavering with sudden uncertainly.

Immediately, Evan Graham focused his attention on her once again, his expression shifting smoothly, softening in the merest blink of an eye.

“Not at all, Mrs. James. I was just thinking how lucky you are to have such a happy, healthy son.”

His friendly, open manner made it easy to shake off her doubts about him. Too easy, perhaps, but the condition of her greenhouses and gardens had turned her into a beggar who couldn’t afford to be a chooser. She wanted—needed—him to check out okay for the sake of her business. It didn’t have anything to do with the way his presence made her feel.

“Yes, I’m very lucky to have such a happy, healthy son,” she said.

Evan Graham nodded once, seeming to confirm something in his own mind. Then he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

“Guess I’d better get my jacket so you can give me the grand tour.”

“You’ll get wet otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t want that to happen,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Hannah took her jacket from the peg, but made no immediate move to put it on. Instead she lurked by the window, watching as Evan Graham ambled down the walkway to his Jeep. He was an interesting and an attractive man in a lot of ways—probably too attractive to her under the circumstances, she acknowledged with a grim twist of her lips.

He was still a stranger, after all. Anyone could adopt a polite, conscientious, ingratiating manner for the short time necessary to get a foot in the door of a trusting woman. How he behaved toward her, and toward Will, on a day-to-day basis would reveal much more about the true nature of his character.

In the meantime, however, there was no harm in being glad that he seemed to want to work with her. After all the months of hurt and fear and loneliness she’d endured, she realized she was as much in need of companionship as any other living, breathing human being would have been. And she couldn’t see any harm in cautiously enjoying Evan Graham’s company.

“We’re ready,” Will announced, joining her by the window.

He’d put on his rain jacket and had a towel clutched in his arms. Beside him, Nellie wriggled excitedly.

“Let’s go then,” Hannah said as she moved away from the window.

Slipping into her jacket, as well, she savored for a long moment the sense of an adventure about to begin—small, and perhaps silly, as it might be.

Chapter Two

Evan took his rain jacket from the backseat of the Jeep and put in on slowly, giving himself a little time to organize his thoughts. Not an easy task, he admitted, considering his current state of confusion.

He had rarely been as disconcerted by anyone’s appearance or behavior as he’d been by that of Hannah James. She hadn’t been anything like the kind of woman Randall James had described to him less than a week ago. With her long, dark hair pulled back in a single, simple, neatly twined braid and not an ounce of makeup on her face, there had been no outer artifice about her at all. And although the jeans, red sweater and low-heeled, ankle-high boots she wore hadn’t been new, they were most certainly neat and clean.

Nor had Hannah acted in any way like the evil, avaricious and unfeeling person her former father-in-law had accused her of being. For someone who had supposedly allowed her husband to die in order to collect money from his life insurance policy, she seemed to live a very simple, very quiet life.

Either Hannah James had magically transformed herself into a warm, kind, honest, loving mother, her home into a serene and orderly haven and her son into a normal, happy, healthy five-year-old, or his client had lied to him point-blank.

Years of working as a police officer and then as a private investigator had honed Evan’s ability to read people. He was successful enough to choose his clients, and he did so based largely on his belief that they were being honest with him.

He rarely missed the signs that someone was lying to him. In fact, he couldn’t recall one time that he’d taken on a new client only to discover that he’d been grossly and very likely intentionally misled.

Granted, there were always two sides to any story. People seldom viewed the same situation in exactly the same way, and when the people involved were also adversaries, there was an even greater chance of disparity between them. Evan had learned that accusations could sometimes be wrapped in exaggeration.

A lonely, insecure wife would paint her friendly, mildly flirtatious, desperate-to-meet-a-deadline-at-the-office husband as a carousing ladies’ man who cheated on her regularly. The owner of a small company, upon seeing an occasionally rabble-rousing employee driving an expensive new car, would assume the employee was stealing from him in some way.

Or a wealthy man who had recently lost his only son would insist without the slightest hesitation that his grandson’s life was being endangered by a scheming, psychotic mother who insisted on forcing the child to live in poverty, isolation and quite possibly even degradation.

Evan had talked to Randall James first by telephone and then face-to-face when he had met with the man at his office in Charlotte. Evan had asked questions and Randall had answered in a seemingly forthright manner, his gaze direct, hands resting quietly on the arms of his chair. Not once had he resorted to histrionics. Yet Randall’s concern had been more than evident, and understandable, as well, to Evan.

Quite understandable, in fact, considering the kind of childhood he’d had, living in debilitating poverty in the so-called care of a mother who had been anything but loving and protective, especially when she was busy drinking herself into oblivion. Rescuing children from similar circumstances involving parental abuse had been a top priority of Evan’s for many years.

But Hannah and her son weren’t living in debilitating poverty. Her home was warm and inviting, as well as sturdy and secure, not some run-down shack barely providing a roof over her head. He wondered if Randall James had ever actually been there, then decided he couldn’t possibly have been and still describe the place in such a derogatory way.

Nor had Evan been able to detect the slightest sign of either scheming or psychosis in Hannah James. She had seemed a little shy, but in an endearing kind of way. And she’d been wary of him, of course, as any woman living on her own with any sense at all would be wary of a strange man, no matter how presentable he appeared to be.

She would have to take some chances in order to find the help she needed, though. That she seemed interested in taking a chance on him certainly worked in his favor.

But if Randall James had lied to him about Hannah, was there really any need for him to sign on with her in the guise of hired help?

Evan still found it hard to believe that he had been fooled so completely by the man. Had his usually sharp and savvy instincts taken a temporary powder during his meeting with Randall James? Or was Hannah James a highly skilled actress, masterfully hiding her conniving and her craziness behind a mask of normalcy edged with sweetness and light?

It would take a huge amount of talent to pull off such a performance for more than a few days—a week at the most. Though why she would feel the need to impress the likes of him Evan couldn’t say. She knew him only as a man in search of a job and a place to live. And forcing a five-year-old child to appear happy when he wasn’t had to be almost impossible to do.

Seeing Hannah, Will and Nellie the dog step out of the house onto the porch, Evan hesitated a moment longer, eyeing the threesome thoughtfully, trying to decide whether to stay or to go. When Hannah caught sight of him, raised her hand and waved to him, he finished fastening the snaps down the front of his jacket, his decision finally made.

He could see no immediate harm in investigating Hannah James a little further. She had been living with the boy in relative isolation, not only according to Randall, but also according to the few people he’d managed to question in Boone, and that did cause Evan some concern. There was also the fact that she wouldn’t be able to hide her true nature from him for long, living in the house with her, as he’d be. It wouldn’t cost him anything except a week of his time, and Randall James was paying him quite handsomely for that already.

Though Evan wasn’t choosing to continue his charade awhile longer out of any sense of duty to the man. Instead he felt a responsibility toward young Will to determine whether he really was a happy, healthy child, safe and secure in his widowed mother’s care.

Pulling up the hood of his jacket to fend off the heavy mist in the mountain air as Hannah and Will had done, Evan joined them at the foot of the porch steps. Nellie wriggled up to him, poked her cold nose into the palm of his hand, snuffled a moment, then loped off along an overgrown stone path that led around the far side of the house. Will took off after her, as well, calling her name to no apparent good.

“It’s pretty wet out here, and muddy, too. Are you sure you want to risk ruining your new boots?” Hannah asked, peering up at him from under the brim of the dark green hood framing her face.

The hesitation Evan heard in her voice coupled with the concern that shadowed her soft brown eyes reminded him anew of how the real Hannah James didn’t jibe with the Hannah James he’d expected to find there. She was considerate almost to a fault, and in a way that spoke to him of caution. It was almost as if she were trying to guess at what might upset or annoy him so as to avoid having it happen.

“They’re meant to be work boots and I was told they’re waterproof. Might as well put them to the test,” he replied.

“All right, then,” she said with obvious relief. “Let’s start with the greenhouses.”

As Hannah turned and headed down the stone path, Evan realized how easily and how naturally she blended into the lush spring landscape. She moved with grace and confidence, head up and shoulders squared, leading him wordlessly into her world. He followed after her with a willingness that had more to do with her womanly allure than his real reason for being there.

Evan had already noted the sturdiness of her cedar-plank house. He had also seen that although her property was situated on the gentle slope of a heavily wooded mountain, the area around the house had been neatly carved into a series of clearings. These clearings led in terraced steps from the main road to the house, then on past the house for a good way before running, once again, into dense forest growth.

Years of hard work had obviously gone into creating this quiet, peaceful place that seemed to him like a hidden jewel. But the neglect Hannah had mentioned was obvious, as well. Barely able to discern the borders of various beds almost hidden by an odd mix of deadfall and new vegetation now running rampant, Evan understood immediately just how desperate she had to be for help.

“It’s really gotten away from me,” she said, gesturing all around her with one hand as she glanced back at him. “But I guess you can see that for yourself.”

“Everything looks very green and lush to me. But I admit I’m not much good at telling weeds from whatever’s worth cultivating,” Evan replied.

“There are perennials coming up under all the stuff that died off over the winter, but there are lots of weeds, too. We’ll have to clear out the dead stuff first, of course, then get rid of the weeds, divide the perennials for replanting as necessary and turn compost into the soil.”

She gestured again at a large, square, wooden box about four feet tall that Evan assumed held her compost heap.

“The vegetable gardens and apple trees are on the slope down from the house,” she continued. “I’ve pruned the trees already, but the vegetable gardens have to be cleared and composted, as well. Then we’ll have to plant the seedlings I’ve started in the greenhouses.”

“Sounds like you’ve done a lot of work already,” Evan acknowledged.

“Actually, I’ve barely scratched the surface,” Hannah admitted with another glance over her shoulder, concern still evident in her eyes. “The really hard work is yet to be done.”

“I’ve never minded hard work,” Evan said, wanting to reassure her.

Too late he realized that he was actually leading her on. He was only there to find out if she was endangering her son in any way, and he wouldn’t likely need more than a week to make that determination. Then he would return to his office in Charlotte, write up a report for Randall James, collect the remainder of his fee and immediately get busy on another case.

He would only be able to help Hannah make a small dent in all the work that needed to be done before he left her on her own again. The thought didn’t sit well with him.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Hannah said.

Once again, her tone held more than a hint of relief, causing Evan to suffer another irksome twinge of conscience. He could try to justify his reasons for deceiving Hannah James, but bottom line, he knew that at the very least he was going to willfully become a source of grave disappointment to her.

Such a probability left him feeling oddly ashamed and apologetic. Still, he had a job to do—one that involved the well-being of a five-year-old child. For Evan, the good of the boy had to come first. Hannah could take care of herself; Will couldn’t.

As they rounded the house, Evan saw the object of his concern waiting patiently for them, along with Nellie, by the door of one of two small, old-fashioned, glass-windowed greenhouses a few yards ahead. He had expected them to be larger, longer and lower like the commercial greenhouses used by wholesale nurseries. Hannah’s were much more picturesque, adding to the landscape in a most charming way.

The buildings sat side by side just beyond the wide, wood-plank deck built onto the back of the house. Not one of the panes of glass was broken, and all appeared to have been recently washed, allowing a clear view of the long tables filled with small pots within the walls. Vents with fans had also been installed to help with temperature control during the summer months that could be surprisingly warm even in the mountains. Despite the tall trees surrounding the area at a good distance, on a sunny day the greenhouses would get the full benefit of several hours of bright sunlight.

“Can I go in the greenhouse, Mommy, and check on our seedlings?” Will asked.

“Let me grab Nellie first,” Hannah replied.

Joining her son by the door, she wrapped a hand around the dog’s collar and held her back as Will slipped into the greenhouse.

“We made the mistake of taking her in the greenhouses with us when she was a puppy. Now she’s like a bull in a china shop,” Hannah explained. “She doesn’t mean to be, but she gets so excited that she wriggles and wags her tail and ends up knocking over a whole shelf of little peat pots before we can stop her.”

“Poor girl,” Evan said, reaching out to scratch the dog’s floppy ears. “You’re just too happy for your own good, aren’t you?”

Nellie gazed up at him and offered a woof in seeming agreement, making Hannah smile along with him.

She urged him to go into the greenhouse, then to the dog she ordered sternly, “Sit, Nellie and stay,” and followed after him.

Though the greenhouse wasn’t very large at all, the interior was laid out in a surprisingly spacious way. The air was warmer inside than outside the glass walls, but the humidity wasn’t as dense as Evan had expected, and smelled of rich, dark soil and green, leafy things.

The rows of tables were chock-full of little pots and trays filled with small, yet obviously healthy plants, all of which looked about the same to him. Will had no trouble telling one from another, though. Standing by the table against the south-facing wall of windows, he pointed here and there with excitement and delight.

“Look, Mommy, look, Mr. Graham—the tomatoes are really starting to grow now. So are the green peppers and the lettuce and the cucumbers and the squash. We’re going to have to start moving them out to the beds really soon.”

“I know,” Hannah agreed, then to Evan she added, “We’ll have to start clearing out the vegetable gardens as soon as the rain lets up—hopefully tomorrow if the latest weather forecast can be trusted. We’re also going to have to move the seedlings outside to get them hardened off for life in the beds.”

“Hardened off?” Evan eyed her quizzically.

“Seedlings started in a greenhouse are sheltered from the wind, strong sun and varying temperatures. They need to develop tougher tissues gradually before they’re planted in the ground. Otherwise they don’t grow and produce as well as they should.”

“I see,” Evan said. “I also see that there is a lot more to gardening than I ever imagined.”

“You have no idea.” Hannah rolled her eyes, then met his gaze, her smile questing. “I hope I’m not scaring you off.”

“Not at all. But…”

Evan hesitated, trying to decide how best to word the questions that had sprung to mind as he’d realized just how labor-intensive it was to grow fruits, vegetables and flowers to sell at the local market. He didn’t want to offend Hannah by appearing to doubt the wisdom of trying to support herself and her son in such a way. Nor did he want to make her unduly suspicious of him by seeming overly interested in her financial situation.

“That but didn’t sound encouraging,” she prompted after a long moment, her smile fading. “Especially since you haven’t even seen the vegetable gardens yet.”

“Not to worry. I’m still interested in the job,” he assured her. “I was just wondering if the return is worth all the work involved.”

“I admit I’ll never get rich selling produce at the market in town. But the gardens helped to provide an income for my parents, and I don’t need a lot of money to get by. I own several hundred acres of land and the house free and clear, and I have savings set aside from my husband’s life insurance policy for Will’s education. I’ve also been thinking about going back to teaching since he’ll be starting kindergarten in the fall. In the meantime, it seems a shame not to use the gardens as they were meant to be.

“There isn’t much of a financial return, all things considered. But the real return for me is in having a hand in producing things that give me pleasure. If you plan to stick around, you’ll see what I mean.”

“Sounds to me like it would be a shame if I didn’t.”

Not an outright lie, but still enough of a prevarication to make Evan look away from her sweet, steady, all-too-hopeful gaze. He wondered why there couldn’t be just one thing about Hannah James that he didn’t like. Yet at the same time, he was grateful that there wasn’t.

“I really should let you reserve judgment until you’ve seen the vegetable gardens.”

“Well, then, let’s take a look at them.”

With Will and Nellie again leading the way, Evan and Hannah followed another meandering path set with stones around the other side of the house and across the gravel drive. The vegetable gardens were more easily discernible than the flower gardens had been because they were built-up and partitioned off with foot-high wooden frames. But they were just as badly overgrown as the flower beds.

From beyond the clearing in a place hidden by the forest growth came the musical sound of water flowing.

“Do you have a creek back there?” Evan asked.

“It runs from a spring up above the house. There are actually several springs on the property, one of which also serves as our major source of water.” Hannah pointed up the slope to where the tree line began. “I have a holding tank up above the house. The water from the spring collects there and then it’s piped into the house. I have a water heater, of course, so hot, as well as cold, running water is always available.”

“That’s good to know.” Evan grinned at her, honestly relieved, then turned his attention back to the vegetable gardens, asking, “Do you have any problems with critters getting into the beds?”

“Chicken wire around the beds will keep out the rabbits and the occasional deer that comes to call, and plastic netting keeps out the birds once the little veggies start to appear.”

“We can make a scarecrow, too,” Will advised, flitting to Hannah’s side, then flitting away again, Nellie loping after him. “Just like the one in my favorite storybook.”

“A real scarecrow?” Evan asked in a teasing tone.

“What can I say? The fun never ends around here.” Hannah turned on the path back to the house. “I can show you the upstairs room now, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” Evan agreed.

“Come on, Will. Time to go back to the house,” she called out to her son.

“Okay, Mommy.”

“You said something earlier about pruning your apple trees,” Evan said as he walked along the path beside her.

“I have a very small orchard.” Hannah waved a hand at a dozen trees, limbs bright with new green leaves, in a clearing farther down the drive. “The trees have bloomed and tiny apples are already starting to grow. We’ll have to do some composting down there, too. I also have several walnut trees at the end of the drive. They’re big and old and pretty much take care of themselves.”

“That’s a relief,” Evan quipped.

“Oh, it is,” Hannah agreed.

Again Evan couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sheer amount of physical labor necessary just to prepare for the growing season. He didn’t want to even think about what must be involved in maintenance once the plants had been set in the beds, because that would also entail thinking about Hannah either having to look for help again or having to do it all alone.