Chapter Two

      Creed had no idea what he was doing. None whatsoever. If the guys could see him now, they’d bust a gut laughing and he would never live it down.

      With a grunt, he wrestled the giant pink teddy bear from the backseat of his black Jeep and picked his way along a series of odd-shaped stepping stones through a mass of flowers and plants that led to Haley Blanchard’s house. She had plants everywhere, most of which he didn’t recognize. Plants in pots. Plants in half barrels. Plants shooting up around the pavers to brush at his cargo pants. They all seemed to be blooming, the array of scents so vast, he smelled them all and recognized nothing but the pungent odor of dill pickles.

      If the plants weren’t enough to affirm his first impression of Haley, the porch did the trick. She was a tad on the flakey side. Out there. A throwback flower child. A wood nymph who’d lost her way.

      The front porch was cluttered with an array of stuff. A pair of wicker chairs bracketed the front door; a bright blue front door with a wooden purple-and-yellow fish hanging smack in the middle. Running the width of the white framed house, the porch was crowded with a painted milk can, a wrought-iron cart loaded with more plants, various yard ornaments and, to top it all off, there were plaques and signs and an old Coca-Cola thermometer nailed to the siding. In fact, there were so many items jammed in the small space that his eyes couldn’t take them all in.

      Yes, sir, Haley was a flake.

      He asked himself again: What was he doing here?

      Rather than answer his own question, Creed sought a doorbell, and finding none, rapped at the side of the house with his knuckles.

      No answer.

      He knocked again, this time with the outside of his fist.

      The sun was warm, hanging over the edge of the mountain like a giant egg yolk in a bowl of faded blue jelly. A bird of some sort scolded from the huge chinquapin oak in the front yard.

      Creed figured he should forget this dumb idea of his. Go back home, call it a night. He could phone Haley tomorrow.

      But here he stood holding a pink teddy bear. There was no way he was arriving at his apartment complex with this thing in tow.

      “Sorry, pal,” he murmured to the stuffed face. “Somebody’s taking you off my hands.”

      A pair of shiny black eyes gleamed at him in amiable silence.

      He pounded the door once more for good measure and was looking for a clear spot on one of the wicker chairs to park the bear when he heard a woman’s voice coming from the backyard.

      “So that’s where they are.” Hoisting the pink teddy over one shoulder, he made his way around the house. Other than a burst of minty-smelling plants that spilled out of an ancient wheelbarrow, the side yard looked a little bare compared to the front.

      He rounded into the backyard, feeling awkward and uncertain, two emotions he didn’t deal with on a regular basis. He was a confident guy, easy in his own skin. Wonky situations didn’t rattle him, but he’d been rattled all day today.

      Haley was sitting on the back step next to a towheaded boy with a cowlick so prominent that it split the front of his hair into a fountain. She and the boy had their heads together over an unassembled kite. A wide-brimmed straw hat had been cast aside next to her.

      At Creed’s approach, Haley glanced up...and her smile froze. “Oh, it’s you.”

      So much for a jolly welcome.

      “Hi.” He tugged at the neck of his shirt, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. What was he doing here? “I just came by to see...” He looked around and saw no sign of the tiny girl he’d rescued from the church. A frisson of alarm shimmied through him. “Where’s the baby? Did someone already take her away? Did they find the mother?”

      Haley put aside the kite parts and stood, brushing slender hands over the long flowered skirt. She was barefoot. Her hair, parted in the middle, hung to her shoulders, the evening sun burnishing the auburn to a darker red.

      “You didn’t expect a newborn baby to be out here in the backyard, did you?”

      Well, yes, he had. Not that he knew a thing about newborns.

      “Is she still here?”

      Haley stood with hands loose at her sides, watching him as if she’d read his thoughts and knew he considered her a flake. He thought her eyes were brown, but in the glare of sunlight, all he knew for sure was that they were staring a hole through him.

      “Why?” she asked.

      “Why? What kind of question is that?” Frustrated, he thrust his arms out to either side. She was the strangest woman. “I found her. Crazy as it sounds, I feel invested in her well-being.”

      “Why would you feel that way?”

      He opened his mouth and shut it back. What was the point? The woman was too flakey to carry on a simple conversation.

      “Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking by coming here.” He shoved the teddy bear into her arms. “I should go.”

      He started to do a sharp, pride-wounded about-face when she touched his arm.

      “Wait.”

      Her touch was featherlight, but it stuck his feet to the green grass like superglue. He wasn’t a weak man, but he felt a tad wobbly all of a sudden.

      “Why?” he asked and was surprised when she laughed.

      “I guess we’re even.”

      “Even?” What was she talking about?

      “I asked why. You asked why. We’re even.”

      “Ah. Right.” Strange. Flakey.