He laughed and opened the door for her. There were three vehicles in the driveway on this side of the house; a red Toyota Yaris, a gray Ford sedan and a battered old quarter-ton pickup truck. Not hard to guess who drove the truck.
“Yours?” He kicked the front tire as they walked past.
“Bought and paid for.” She hesitated at the corner of the house. “I, uh, dug up the backyard when I first moved in. Beulah didn’t mind.”
Jordan was struck speechless when he rounded the corner of the house. Nell had turned the yard into a paradise. He didn’t know much about flowers, but even he recognized a marigold when he saw one. Bright yellow and orange marigolds rimmed a tomato patch. When he bent down, he saw several ripe tomatoes peeking out from under dark green leaves. Lacey waved to him from a swing that hung from an old oak in the far corner. Beside her, water trickled over a small man-made—or woman-made—waterfall. Sitting on a wood bench beside the waterfall, Rodney stopped cleaning his fingernails with his jackknife to nod at Jordan. Sunflowers lined the back wall of the house.
The sun warmed his back, and tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying slid off his shoulders.
“You did all this?” Miss Nellie was an artist in her own right.
She nudged the loose soil with the toe of her sneaker. “It took me two years. Rodney’s been helping lately. He used to be a farmer. “
“Hey, Jordan.”
Jordan looked up into the canopy of green oak leaves. Jacob was lying on what appeared to be a small front porch of a half-built tree house.
Nell had built a paradise for her kids. And she was willing to share it with a man like Rodney? The hair on the back of his neck rose. What did she know about the guy? He looked like he belonged in a hospital, or, God forbid, that street corner in Seabend where all the winos hung out. The more Jordan looked at him, the more he was convinced he recognized him. He passed that corner several times a week when he was jogging.
He grabbed Nell’s elbow and propelled her toward the garage, a generous name for the decrepit structure. “Let’s check out those aliens.”
“No problem.” She pulled the keys out again and unlocked the side door. The garage was dim with light trickling in from one dusty window and the open door behind him. Crammed full with bits and pieces of everyone’s lives, plus the requisite lawn mower and tools, there was barely enough room for him and Nell to stand inside.
“What’s the story on Rodney?” he asked.
“Oh.” Nell plucked a rag from a basket beside her and started wiping down an old dresser that was missing one drawer. “He’s been sick, but he’s getting stronger every day.”
“I can see he’s ill. Where does he live?”
She chucked the rag back into the basket and met his glare straight on. “He was living on the streets in Seabend, but he was sick. So I brought him home and let him stay in your room for a few days. Like I said, he’s getting better. He’ll move on soon. He’s not one to accept charity lightly.”
Jordan suppressed the urge to shake some sense into her. Didn’t she know what kind of people lived on the streets? “You brought a bum home and let him stay? Are you crazy? He could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“He’s a sweet man who recently lost his wife of forty years and can’t stand to go home.”
“You knew this before you brought him here?”
“Some of it. I knew him years ago. My parents had a convenience store, and he used to sell eggs to them.”
A tenuous connection at best. “He has to go, Nell.”
Nell leaned forward and pushed the door shut. “Let him stay for a couple more weeks, just until he’s stronger. I’ll…I’ll make it up to you.”
Jordan’s black mood lifted. Negotiations. Home ground for him. Once he finished with Nell, he’d drill Rodney about who he was and why he was hanging around Dunstan Lane. “How?”
Nell’s eyes went a little wild, then she settled. “I’ll cook you supper for the next two weeks. I’m a good cook.”
He folded his arms over his chest and tried his best not to smile. Nothing sweeter than having the upper hand. “Not good enough. What else?”
“I’ll do your laundry. And clean your room.” She murmured the last under her breath.
“Deal.” He stuck out his hand and shook hers. He knew when not to push too hard and by the murderous look in her eye, he’d reached her limit. “You can start today. My room stinks.”
“I can’t. I have to go to work.”
“I thought you were at work.”
“I have another job at a garden center. I try not to work weekends, but I couldn’t get out of it this time. They close at seven on Saturdays, but maybe I can clean your room after the kids are in bed.”
Jordan bit back a curse. He hadn’t realized Nell worked another job. He’d thought…he hadn’t thought, had he? He didn’t know the first thing about her. “Forget the room and laundry. But just so we understand each other, no more strays. This is not a charitable enterprise.”
“Gotcha.” She looked so downcast, he wondered who else she’d planned to drag home. Taking advantage of an absent landlord was no laughing matter, especially if you were the landlord. So why did he feel like laughing? It was going to be a challenge keeping up with Nell. Good thing he thrived on challenges.
“How many jobs do you have?”
“Just the garden center and here.”
Neither of which put much money in her pocket. This was the perfect opportunity to see how he could help her move on to something new. “If you had your pick, what would your dream job be?”
Nell leaned against the dresser and hooked her thumbs inside her overalls. “That’s easy. Farmer.”
“Farmer?” Of course he knew somewhere out there farmers were hard at work, but it had never occurred to him anyone actually aspired to be one.
“I’m hoping once the kids get a bit older, I can rent an old farm and start growing herbs. I want to make tinctures and essential oils and dried herbs. Teas, too.” She glowed as she listed the products.
“Herbs,” he repeated.
“Like oregano and sage. You do know what herbs are, don’t you?”
“Of course. I just… Is there a market for those products? Can you make a living growing that sh…stuff?”
She shot him an incredulous look. “Where have you been, Tanner? People are crazy about them.”
In whose universe? Certainly not his. Why did people always think starting a business was easy? “Have you thought about the business side of this venture? How much land would you need? How would you get your product to market? Who’s your target group?”
She beamed up at him. “I have a business plan. Maybe you could look at it. You’d probably have some great ideas. This is wonderful. Rodney’s going to make me a still, and you can iron out the wrinkles in my business plan. I knew it was all going to come together for me. I just didn’t think—”
“Hold on. Back up a minute. What’s this about a still? Isn’t that illegal?”
“I don’t think so.” She dug a small notebook out of her back pocket and jotted something down. “I’ll have to check on that, but I think it’s more what you make with the still than the actual equipment. Like hemp oil. That would probably be illegal.”
Jordan swallowed a surge of panic. “Please tell me you’re not growing that stuff here.”
She