Garden Creek
Present Day
Victoria Birch could turn off the dreams if she wanted to. At least, those dreams. The ones that sometimes showed her things she didn’t want to see. But last night, after a hot bath and a glass of wine, she’d been relaxed enough to let them come.
Fortunately, she woke refreshed and relieved. The only thing in her dreams last night had been the moving van, the same moving van she’d dreamed about three times in the last two weeks. It was probably curiosity that had her wishing these dreams would come instead of stay far away. After all, the moving van in her dreams was always parked next door to her house and there was always a man inside. A sexy man with eyes the color of emeralds. Eyes most women only dreamed about.
Tori laughed and stood from her queen-sized bed. It was just a dream now, but it wouldn’t be for long. She knew that much.
Tori stretched, raising her arms high overhead and feeling the strain in her shoulders. She could probably use a massage, but as a rule (aside from last night), she tried to never get too relaxed. Relaxing opened her up and lowered her control.
Good thing Tori was a fan of keeping busy. Life had too much to offer to let it pass her by.
So, she turned up the volume of her stereo as she did twenty minutes of yoga, and filled her mind with lyrics and plans for the day—one of which included finding a whimsical birthday gift for her grams.
After a shower and more planning, she wandered to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. At work, it was tea. All day long, cinnamon tea and lemon honey tea and every other type of tea they brought in from vendors all over the world. But here, at home, she took pleasure in a single cup of coffee.
She was at the kitchen sink when she saw the van. It was a jolt, even though she’d been expecting it. A bright green moving van, exactly the same color as the one in her dream. Admittedly, when she’d first seen the van, it had been in a brief vision when she’d gone outside to check her mail. And that time, it had been blue. But once she’d let herself relax and open up to it, she’d seen the van as green.
It happened like that a lot. Details could be wrong—were often wrong if she wasn’t open to them. Her mother had seen the wrong details, and that had cost them everything.
Tori watched the van for another moment. There was a man and a child, she knew that much, but she hadn’t seen anyone else. Just in case, she’d made a large dish of lasagna and stored it in the freezer for whenever they finally showed up.
She walked over and transferred the dish to the refrigerator. It didn’t hurt to be neighborly, as they often were around here. Garden Creek wasn’t a big place, as the newcomers were about to find out. But it was a community and they looked out for each other.
And as an extra bonus, her new neighbor wasn’t hard on the eyes either. In fact, she’d had more than one dream about him that made her wake up panting. She couldn’t help it. He was built, had eyes the color of the forest, and he had a daughter. That hit a weak spot inside of her.
She sighed. Eye candy. That’s all. Even if he was open to something more, Tori didn’t have that luxury. Most people didn’t understand her history, and even though she tried to keep the visions in the past, they were still a part of who she was.
With another glance at the green moving van and still not seeing anyone, Tori grabbed her car keys and left for work.
#
Flowers dotted the storefronts and baskets hung from the old-fashioned lampposts on Drury Street. She adored the cobblestones that lined the entire length of Garden Creek’s main strip. No stop lights or parking spaces crowded the picturesque stretch of road, just stores, benches, trees, and everything else that drew in shoppers and families.
They were only fifteen minutes from the city but tourists were fond of visiting Garden Creek for a day away from the hustle and bustle or for a bite to eat.
Her shop, Reverie, sat right in the middle of it all. Back when her grandmother had opened the place, it had been at the end of the road. But times changed and stores had sprung up all around them. Now they were at the center, directly in front of the Riverwalk, which provided them with the perfect patio spot for people to drink their tea and enjoy the sound of the rushing water.
Tori parked her car in the lot on the north side, under the cover of tall, shady trees, and snatched her purse off the passenger seat. The day was already heating up, sunshine filtering through the leafy cover and speckling the dirt with spots of cheer.
She was helpless against sunshine. There’d been too many rainy days in her past.
Inside the back door, Grams had dawned an apron and patted her hair into a tidy bun. “Your Mr. Colton already stopped by this morning.”
“He’s not my anything, Grams.”
Grams waved a hand, dismissing the comment. “You know what I mean. He was standing outside the front of the store in that ridiculous suit of his and holding a mug from Grounds, which was already in bad taste—”
“Grams.” Tori tied her own apron around her waist, a checkered pattern that had been Reverie’s uniform from the day it opened. “If you don’t have anything nice to say…”
Grams sniffed and walked to the kitchen. She hadn’t been a fan of Grounds, the local coffee shop, since the day it had opened fifteen years ago. She didn’t care that it was competition, she cared that they overpriced everything and went to sneaky lows to try to steal Reverie’s customers.
Tori’s best friend, Cassidy, had dared her to go in there once when they’d been teenagers. Tori wasn’t against a little healthy rebellion here and there, but she’d feared her grandmother’s wrath the entire time she stood in line for a latte. In the end, the barista had sneered at her and she’d ended up leaving her drink on the counter. If Reverie employees disliked Grounds, Grounds employees downright despised Reverie and all it stood for.
Even for all their tricks and attempts to steal customers, Reverie had flourished. It wasn’t just the prices or the fact that the Birch’s had been in Garden Creek since the beginning, but it was also ambiance and community. They knew every face that came in and talked with everyone like they were family.
“Anyway,” Grams continued as they walked into the kitchen, “there he stood, like he was on Wall Street or something, tie done just so…”
Their baker, Hannah, flashed Tori a grin. Grams had never been to New York or any other big city for that matter, but she often insisted that was right where Brooks Colton belonged. She said his name and his conceited attitude belonged up there in the Big Apple.
Grams took the tray Hannah passed to her, a batch of fresh scones they’d put out in the display case for the early risers. Baked goods were their big sellers in the mornings, with the occasional smoothie. Once the afternoon rolled around, business picked up, particularly in the summers and on warm days. Customers would take their drinks out to the patio and chat or people watch, and Grams would visit with everyone while Tori took her own version of a break and played with the kids.
Just off the patio, where flagstones led to the water, there was an area with wood chips and all manner of animals made out of metal. Large enough for kids to sit and play on. Pigs, geese, horses, all heights and sizes. A little metal farm.
Tori would hop on the back of one of the pigs and pretend to ride just like the rest of the kids. They loved it, and so did she. It was the next best thing to having one of her own.
She jumped when her grandmother squeezed her arm, directing her out to the floor of the shop away from Hannah’s prying ears.
“Grams,” Tori whispered.
“You’re distracted.”
Sexy green eyes, abs like a god…Gah! She’d never even seen her neighbor in person and she was already drooling over him. “I’m working.”
“Tell me.”
Tori frowned. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Is it Brooks? Because he asked about you, and I told him you weren’t coming in until later. You know what that means.”
Tori straightened chairs at a table and flashed her Grams a smile. “What does that mean?”
“It means he’ll be back later.”
Shit. She ignored the clench in her stomach. Brooks had been a lot more persistent lately. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive or a good catch by anyone else’s standards. But he was cocky. He’d been with half the women in town and had decided she was his next catch. Tori had no interest, and she was starting to think that being polite every time she turned him down wasn’t working. Even though he wasn’t her type, she really wasn’t in the position to have any type right now. It wasn’t in her future, she’d decided. A relationship was a bad idea.
But when she told Brooks that, he didn’t listen.
Grams tightened her apron, then folded wrinkled hands across her stomach. “I’ll tell him he’s not welcome here anymore.”
“Grams, you can’t ban people from the shop.” Even if that’s what Brooks Colton deserved.
“I sure as hell can. It’s not like he orders anything when he comes in anyway.”
“It’ll just make him mad.”
Grams shook her head. “I don’t care if he’s mad.” When Tori gave her a pointed look, she glanced away. “Then we’ll have Cass do it. You know she’d like nothing more than to teach his sorry ass a lesson.”
“Grams,” Tori said with a laugh. “You are in a mood this morning. Ten minutes until we open. Why don’t you channel your energy into stocking the display case?”
“Who made you the boss all the sudden?”
Tori didn’t answer, letting Grams grumble a little more before she finally went behind the counter to stock the display case. Yes, Brooks was a pain in the ass, and yes, it’d give her a little thrill to have him kicked out of here permanently. But it wouldn’t solve the problem.
Besides, she’d already talked to Cass about it. As one of the town’s few deputies, Cass was more than willing to deal with Brooks on a professional level, but on a personal one, she agreed with Tori. Giving Brooks any fuel was going to make it worse.
Better to firmly—and consistently—let him down until he finally dropped it and moved onto his next victim. Maybe she’d be just as cocky as him and he’d find his perfect match. Even better, she’d convince him to move to New York and give the whole town a break.
“This cash register isn’t going to fill itself!” Grams called.
With a grin, Tori joined her grandmother behind the counter and forgot all about Brooks. She didn’t, however, forget the green moving van or the fact she hadn’t told Grams anything about it. She normally told her all about her visions and dreams. If only to have a sounding board. But this time…for some reason, it felt too personal. Maybe it was the little girl, the one with sunny pigtails and freckles sprinkled across her nose. Or maybe, maybe, it was the man, who even in her dreams seemed to get to her, to touch little places of her heart she’d worked long and hard to close off.
#
Cole looked for the giant red ball every time he made a trip inside the house. He’d carry another load in, peer out the window above the sink, make sure he saw Morgan tossing her ball, and then head out the front door for another armload of boxes or items. Fortunately, they didn’t have much. And, though it would have been nice to have some help, there was something to be said for setting up house all on his own.
In a brand new town.
He walked down the front steps and angled for the moving van. The only large piece of furniture he’d brought was Morgan’s bed so she’d have somewhere to sleep. The rest had been taken by his ex a few years back when he’d asked her to move out. Small price to pay to get her off his back and out of his life. She’d been so hung up on the furniture and dishes, she hadn’t even said anything about Morgan.
It didn’t matter anyway. He had full custody of the five-year-old, and Morgan was better off without her mother. Sad, but true.
He figured he’d save the bed for the next load and get that set up before they scrounged something up for lunch.
After bringing in another box of clothes, Cole peered out the back window again and frowned. No red ball…
But there she was. Morgan stood at the fence that separated his lawn and his neighbor’s. She peered through the cracks, clearly searching for something.
Cole blew out a half-laugh, half-sigh. Probably her red ball.
He couldn’t complain. They hadn’t had a yard in the city. They’d hardly had much of an apartment. Here, he got three bedrooms and a huge backyard. If that meant retrieving Morgan’s red ball here and there, he didn’t mind.
Before he could make it to the back door, she ran through, panic in her voice. “Daddy!”
“It’s okay,” he said, already trying to smooth things over. She was dangerously close to tears.
The ball was brand new and the novelty hadn’t worn off yet. It was her first big red ball, her first backyard, her first everything almost. And she deserved it.
Cole had finally gotten his ass in gear and decided to get out of Houston. It was more because of Morgan’s mom and everything the city stood for than the fact he actually wanted to move. But it had been the best choice for both of them. And, in the long run, probably the best choice for Deirdre, Morgan’s mom. She hadn’t ever wanted a child and she’d made it clear.
“My ball,” Morgan said, eyes brimming. “It went over the fence. What if there’s a dog there and he eats it? What if—”
“There’s not a dog,” he said automatically.
“How do you know?”
Cole grinned and scooped her up. “Okay, I don’t know. But he can’t eat that ball. It’s way too big. Come on.”
“Are you going to climb the fence?”
He tugged one of her blond braids. They were uneven and barely staying in their barrettes, but he’d done the best he could. Doing hair wasn’t one of his fortes.
“No, we’re going to go over there and get it.”
Cole carried her out the front door. The sun already burned mid-way in the sky, promising a hot afternoon. They were used to the heat, but there was definitely more humidity in Garden Creek. When he had the chance, and any hope of finding a Wal-Mart or something similar, he’d pick up one of those little kiddie pools for Morgan—and maybe himself—to cool off in.
He eyed the fence on the side of the house. There was a gate, just like the one he had. Did neighbors do that around here? Just go into each other’s backyards to get their daughter’s balls?
He walked past and opted for the front door. Didn’t want to make any enemies. This wasn’t a rental he had here, it was permanent.
Cole set Morgan down. “You want to ring the bell?”
She automatically ducked behind his legs, holding on tight.
“It’s okay. I’m right here. It’s nice to make friends.”
She balked, so he reached out and pressed the button, taking it in stride. It was his ex that had caused this. Her temper, mood swings, her inconsistencies. All of it had made Morgan retreat further and further into her shell.
He listened for voices or the sound of footsteps while Morgan peered around his legs. The house looked a lot like his own. Same shape and size, same simple cement slab for the front porch, though there were colorful metal chairs on this one. Four different colors. He could see drapes and blinds in the windows, something else he’d have to take care of eventually, and the screen door sported a sign that said, Solicitors Welcome!
He chuckled. Didn’t see a lot of that in the city.
“Daddy,” Morgan said, peering up at him. “We have to get my ball. It’s looonely over there. Daddy—”
“I know.” He pressed the doorbell again but figured they still wouldn’t get an answer. It was almost noon. Whoever lived here was probably at work or out getting lunch.
Damn. He’d have to find something to distract Morgan from her ball. He backed up, eyeing the side fence, then decided against it. He’d wait and drop by later.
“How about we leave the ball there to surprise the neighbor?” Cole asked, putting optimism into his tone. He hurried on before Morgan could say anything. “Then when they get home, we could come by and say hi and see if they’ll let us go into their backyard.”
“You think they have a tree house?”
“I don’t know. We could ask.”
Morgan reached up to take his hand. “But…”
“I could really use some cereal.”
Her mouth moved into a small pout, but she straightened it out. “Me too. I’m dying of hunger!”
And it was a good thing she wanted cereal because that was all he had. He didn’t even have milk. But he let her pour some into a paper cup and bring it out to the front porch while he grabbed another box from the van.
“This is the last one for now,” Cole told her. “Then we’ll go hunting.”
Mouth full of Cheerios, she asked, “Hunting for what?”
“Lunch.”
She followed him inside and watched as he set the box in the living room. It held a pile of sheets he could use for her bed tonight. Good enough. And unless he came across a store that happened to have a queen-sized bed and mattress, he was sleeping on the cot tonight.
Could be worse. Deirdre could be here. Then he’d probably have a bed, but he’d have no idea what the middle of the night would bring. If she’d come home high or wasted.
No, he’d trade a thousand nights on a cot—or the floor—for peace of mind. For consistency.
A far cry from the life he used to lead before Morgan was born. But things changed. He’d changed, and it was all because of Morgan.
He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
“Lunch hunt?” Morgan asked hopefully.
He ruffled her hair. “Yes. A giant cheeseburger with fries.”
“And a milkshake!”
He grinned and pulled out his keys. “Let’s see what we can do.”
Cole locked the front door and stood on the porch for a long moment. This was their house. Their new beginning.
Morgan tugged on his hand. “I’m hungry!”
“Let’s go.”