Jo couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Daniel Armstrong as she assessed the damage the girl had caused. It wasn’t that bad. Still, the way Jo saw it the kid would learn nothing from walking away. If Jo made her replant the damaged area, not to mention repairing the sand base she’d managed to disturb, she might think twice the next time. It was unlikely she’d ever come near a cranberry bog again. And of course, the father would need to back up Jo on the kid making restitution.
Unlikely. Daniel Armstrong was one of those men Jo saw often on the island—a man seemingly linked to his work by the invisible wire of a cell phone, BlackBerry or both. Throw into that mix an elderly parent in the hospital and a rebellious teen, and the man had his share of trouble. He would cave to the teen. According to Ella, both her son and his wife had spoiled the child early on and now seemed incapable of taking a stand with her. Jo shook her head and once again counted her blessings that she was single and responsible only for herself.
Not that she didn’t want children of her own. One day. Of course, there was the little matter of first finding the appropriate father for those kids, and that just hadn’t been in the stars for her so far.
She was well aware that Ella had given some thought to the possibility of introducing Jo to Daniel before now. Ever since Jo had arrived and her bond with Ella had become so close, Ella had mentioned her son on numerous occasions. Of course, Ella’s motives had been transparent. And now that the meeting had taken place, Jo was absolutely certain that Daniel probably felt the same way she did about any idea they might hit it off.
So when she returned to the cottage after a long day of fighting the drizzle and chill as they finally completed the setup of the antiquated sprinkler system, she was surprised to find a note propped on the mantel.
Dear Ms. Cooper,
Jasmine and I will be going to the hospital at seven. I’m sure Mom would like to see you as well, if you’d like to ride with us.
Daniel Armstrong
Jo stared at the note for a long time. It was as if this were some code that needed breaking. Why would he offer a ride to the hospital? Why would he not even mention what had happened earlier? Then she smiled as the truth dawned on her. Daniel Armstrong and his daughter were going to try and negotiate the terms of her punishment for damaging the crop. She picked up the phone.
“Mr. Armstrong?” she said when he answered on the first ring. “This is Jo Cooper.”
In the background she could hear meat sizzling in a skillet and the whirring of an electric can opener. She looked out the window, across the yard to Ella’s kitchen window. He was standing at the sink, the receiver of Ella’s outdated wall phone lodged between his shoulder and ear, the cord trailing him as he reached for something on the counter. “You got my note?”
“Yes, and I wanted to thank you for the offer of a ride. Actually, I thought I’d catch a quick shower and then head on over to the hospital now. Ella likes me to update her on the work over supper.”
He didn’t respond and she could see a plume of smoke curling up from the skillet, activating the smoke alarm. “Okay,” he shouted and dropped the phone.
Jo continued to hold her phone and watch the scene across the yard. She saw him touch the skillet and immediately release it. Ouch, she thought with a grimace. Maybe she should go up there. But then she saw him grab a pitcher of water and douse the contents of the skillet, sending up even more smoke and steam as he threw open the window and back door.
Feeling a little too much like a Peeping Tom, Jo clicked off the phone and closed the window blind. “Cooper, you seriously have to think about getting a life,” she muttered as she went to take her shower and change.
Daniel couldn’t help admitting that Jo Cooper without the baggy overalls and draped in a rain slicker at least two sizes too large got his attention. Now she was wearing fitted black jeans and a bright pink hooded sweater over a paler pink T-shirt. Her skin had the kind of fresh-scrubbed, rosy-cheek quality that—based on his experience with Gloria—he assumed she’d created with foundation and blush. But a closer look under the glare of the hospital room’s ceiling lights showed it to be completely natural. She wasn’t wearing lipstick and when he leaned past her to give his mother a kiss, it took a moment to realize that her perfume was just plain soap.
“Hello, Daniel,” his mother said, then turned her attention to Jazz. “Jasmine, I understand you’ll be working with Jo tomorrow. I can’t tell you how delighted I am to hear you’ve taken an interest in the family business.”
Daniel saw Jazz glance at Jo and then study her grandmother to see if there was any sarcasm in her praise. Finding none, she searched for a change in subject. “I…uh…Aren’t hotels the family business, Grandma?”
“The hotel business is your heritage on your mother’s side—and it’s your father’s profession at the moment. But our family has been on that farm raising the best cranberries on Nantucket for over fifty years. I have to admit that I thought your grandfather was taking an enormous risk when he decided that cranberries would be more profitable than raising sheep.”
Jazz grinned. She was obviously relieved to be on the solid ground of this often-told family history. “But that red gold paid a lot of bills, right, Grams?”
Ella smiled. “It’ll do you good to learn more about it, and Jo here is just the one to teach you. You stick with her and you’ll be surprised what you can learn. You might even get a term paper out of it.”
Jo and Jazz exchanged a look and then Jo stood up. “I should be going,” she said, speaking directly to Ella. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
Ella touched her hand affectionately.
“See you at seven,” Jo said as she passed Jazz on her way to the door. It was not a question and Daniel did not miss the look of pleading his daughter sent his way.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and followed Jo into the hall. She was already halfway to the bank of elevators. For a woman who barely came to his chin, she had a long stride that covered a lot of territory in a short amount of time.
“Ms. Cooper—Jo—could I talk to you?”
She paused and waited for him to catch up. “Ella seems to have rallied well,” she said.
“I was wondering…. I mean, I see what you’re trying to do with this thing with Jazz, but the truth is she’s not much for the outdoors.”
Jo continued to meet his gaze with a pleasant half smile on her face, but she said nothing.
“Besides, we came here straight from her school and I don’t think she has anything approaching the right wardrobe for working in the bog. I’d like you to reconsider her offer to pay for the damage.”
“With your money?”
He ran a hand through his hair, then plunged it into his pocket. He tried a smile. “Look, she’s a kid. Any money she has is my money—or her mother’s.”
He thought the smile had worked. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and suddenly seemed incapable of meeting his gaze. But just as suddenly she appeared to pull herself together, as her head jerked up and she forced her eyes to meet his. “I assume from what Ella has told me that you’ve spent your share of time in the bog.”
“Yes, but—”
“Then you must be aware that this isn’t a simple case of heading to the local garden center and picking up a few plants. These plants are a new hybrid that your mother has been working on for the past few seasons. So your money—or your daughter’s—is really of no use here.”
“But she understands money—paying for things.” At least buying things, he thought.
Jo hoisted her shoulder purse higher on her shoulder. “Look, it’s your call. I mean, beyond my setting the terms up front, we both know I have no further power here. If you decide to give in to her…” She left the idea hanging as she pressed the call button for the elevator.
“Why should it matter to you whether I pay you to hire someone to repair the damage or Jazz shows up tomorrow?”
He saw her shoulders straighten and she once again turned to face him. This time, though, she took a step toward him so closely that he could have easily reached out and touched her.
“It’s about respect,” she said in a low voice. “Respect the hours of work that went into producing those plants in the first place and then preparing and planting that area.” She sighed. “Respect for the work. Respect for your mother. Respect for you, if it comes to that. This is your home, your history. Doesn’t that matter?”
Daniel stared at her for a long moment. “Do you have children?” he finally managed.
To his surprise she laughed. “Nope. What I have is six brothers. My folks had a thing about respect and you just heard the lecture.”
The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. Then her features softened with empathy. “Look, you’ve had a pretty rough couple of days. She’s your daughter, so whatever you decide is fine,” she said. “You’ve got enough on your plate worrying about Ella. So go ahead and make it easier on yourself and let the kid off the hook.”
The doors slid shut and Daniel knew instantly that it was her parting shot that had changed his mind. The respect lecture had been impressive, but now she had challenged his ability to juggle multiple crises. He was the master multitasker when it came to handling catastrophes, and in his entire adult life he had never once asked anyone to make things easier for him. He wasn’t about to start with a dark-haired, green-eyed pixie who fancied herself a philosopher as well as a farm manager.
Jo was up at dawn, and experience told her the fog drifting over the bog would lift and at last she would have a clear day to work. She packed her lunch, filled the thermos with hot, black coffee and climbed into the cab of her truck.
As she drove along the dike that ran the perimeter and between the beds of the bog, something caught her attention. Two figures hunched over, their backs to each other as the man watched her approach and the girl pawed the sandy ground with one foot like a horse anxious to make a break for it.
“Well, now, what have we here?” Jo murmured as she glanced at her watch. She couldn’t help wondering when the last time might have been that the girl had been up at this hour. She slowed the truck to a stop several yards from them and took her time gathering her thermos and tools.
“Mornin’,” she called as she started toward them.
“Looks like more rain,” Daniel said.
“This will burn off by midmorning,” she assured him.
“Coffee?”
“Not unless you’ve got a quad venti nonfat no whip mocha in there,” the girl grumbled.
“Afraid not, so I’ll take that as a no from you. How about you? Plain, old-fashioned drip-brewed caffeine?” she asked, turning to Daniel and holding up the thermos.
“Yes, please. Intravenously, if possible.”
Jo laughed. The kid rolled her eyes, hugged herself and moved a little farther away from them. Jo suspected that Jazz didn’t want to run the risk that anyone might happen by and think she actually knew these dorks.
After handing Daniel his coffee and getting for herself the car mug she’d filled before leaving the house, Jo turned her attention to the bog.
“Any news from the hospital this morning?”
“I called,” Daniel said. “Mom was up and having her breakfast. I have a meeting later with the social worker, but thought I’d get things started here.” He jerked his head toward Jazz, who instantly bristled.
“Hello? I am standing not two feet from you. You don’t have to talk in code.”
“I see you found some work clothes.” Jo nodded approvingly at Jazz’s outfit of jeans and fleece vest over a flannel shirt that she recognized as belonging to Ella. “Nice boots,” she added. Jazz was wearing a pair of military-green galoshes. Her long hair was pulled up in a ponytail and anchored with a baseball cap.
“Dad, could we just get this over with?” the girl muttered, ignoring Jo.
“Ms. Cooper is in charge,” Daniel reminded her.
“But it’s not her property. She just works for Grandma, and now for you since Grandma is in the hospital.”
“Hello? I’m standing right here,” Jo said in a perfect imitation of Jazz’s earlier protest. “How about we start by assessing the damage?”
Jo worked her way down the side of the dike to the sandy bed below, then knelt to examine several plants.
“Well?” Daniel asked from above her.
“Come see for yourself,” she invited, “and bring my helper there with you.”
It had been years since Daniel had spent any time working the beds, and yet he was amazed at how quickly things came back to him. The bed had been well prepared—cleared of old growth, spread with sand and leveled. At least, most of it was level. The area where Jazz had gotten stuck looked more like a kid’s sandbox excavation site. The cuttings had been evenly distributed and rolled into the sand with a mechanical planter. Except for those cuttings that had been pulled free when Jazz had trampled over several rows.
“I think you can handle it with a few hand tools,” Jo said as she climbed back onto the dike and got the required tools from the back of her truck. “You okay here?” she asked.
Nodding, Daniel went to work. “There,” he told Jazz once he’d shown her how to level the sand again and was ready to replant the uprooted vines. “Just take that piece and push it back into its place, anchor it down with sand, then go about this far and do the same thing.”
Jazz held up the cutting and examined it. “I can’t tell which end goes in the ground,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter. It’ll grow either way,” Jo said.
“Really? That’s weird.”
Daniel chuckled as he recalled being only five or six when he’d said almost the same thing to his father. He stood and stretched his back as he gazed down the length of the bed, then looked back at Jo.
“In four or five years, Ella’s going to have a far higher yield, at least from this bed,” Jo said.
“In four or five years, this land will probably be all filled in with houses, not cranberries,” he replied. “It’s a pure waste of time, effort and money. Why didn’t you talk her out of it?”
“Because this is your mother’s life—her livelihood. If I can get her a greater yield from the small acreage she has here, then she’ll realize a greater income from the harvest.”
Daniel pulled off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. “Her income comes from Social Security and from me. This is nothing but a hobby—a way of keeping the past alive. Some women get into scrapbooking. My mother raises cranberries.”
“Somehow I doubt those ladies who scrapbook ever see checks totaling up to thirty thousand dollars a year for their efforts,” Jo muttered as she turned and stalked away.
“Hey,” Jazz shouted when Jo passed her, “I just finished repairing that row.”
Ignoring the kid, Jo climbed back onto the grassy dike and went to meet her crew. “Let’s finish getting those sprinklers tested,” she called.
Could Ella’s son have a point? Certainly when Jo had first met the woman, she’d been impressed with Ella’s physical strength and sharp mind. Had she seen something in Ella that reminded her of her own mother? Something in the older woman’s smile and wisdom had made Jo think. Maybe spending the season with Ella would ease the pain of her mother’s death, so unexpected when the porch of a ski lodge condominium her parents had rented for a week had collapsed.
At first the plan had been for her brother Hank to take the job on Nantucket, but then he’d suddenly backed out. “You go, Jo.”
“Why? Don’t you think I can handle things here?”
“That’s not it and you know it,” Hank had snapped.
“Then what is it?”
Hank had sighed. “Look, sis, Mom’s death was hard on all of us, especially Dad. But you lost more than a parent. You and Mom were more like best friends—sisters. Maybe out there, you can find some peace, some healing.”
Jo couldn’t argue the point. There were still times when something would remind her of her mother and she would suddenly feel tears leaking down her cheeks. Like now.
She swiped away the tears with the back of her hand and kept working, cleaning out leaves and debris from the last section of sprinkler pipes, then fitting the pieces together while her crew of two did the same down the way. She could hear them talking politics and sports. It reminded her of the way her brothers had kept up a running banter whenever the family was working the bog.
She glanced back toward the farmhouse and cottage. Back on their farm when she was a kid, her mom would sometimes bring them all lunch, a jug of fresh lemonade on hot afternoons or a thermos of coffee on cold mornings. And up until a few days ago Ella had done the same.
She caught a flash of Jazz’s yellow cap and saw Daniel helping his daughter back onto the road. He scanned the beds, obviously looking for Jo, so she waved and put down the pipes she’d been cleaning.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” she called to her crew.
Daniel met her halfway.
“I think we got it all squared away, but if you see anything more, just let me know.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said as she watched Jazz heading back toward the farmhouse. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. Not only having her show up this morning, but also coming with her, helping her set things right.”
“Really?”
Jo was surprised at how uncertain he sounded. Then he laughed. “This parenting thing was a lot easier when she was three.”
They had reached the repaired bed and Jo paused to study the results. “Looks like somebody knew what he was doing,” she said.
“Yeah, well, Dad always said it was like riding a bicycle. Once you’ve done it enough you never quite lose the knack of it.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine you here,” Jo admitted. “I mean you and Jazz seem like such…”
“City slickers?”
“Do you ever miss it?”
Daniel stared out over the mature beds to where the men were preparing to test the sprinklers for leaks or clogs they might have missed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess it’s been a long time since I gave it much thought.”
He bent and picked up the thermos cup of now-cold coffee, tossed the remains onto the ground and screwed the cup back onto the thermos. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. “It was definitely a lifesaver.”
“No problem.”
The silence stretched long enough to become awkward, and then they spoke at the same time.
“Look, about your mom…” she said.
“I was thinking…” he said.
“Go ahead,” they both said, and then grinned.
“You were thinking?” she prompted.
“I was thinking that even if Mom makes a full recovery from this, I need to start making some plans for her future.”
“Nantucket is her home,” Jo reminded him.
“I know, but I have to be practical. I’m all she’s got and I have a business to run in the city, not to mention a rebellious teenager to keep an eye on.”
“What are you saying?” Jo felt as if her heart had gotten lodged in her throat.
He frowned and ran his hand over his unshaven jaw. “Just don’t go spending any more than you absolutely have to on this season’s crop until I can figure things out, okay?”
“Ella hired me to bring in the crop and that’s what I intend to do. If you’re suggesting that I not do everything in my power to make sure it’s a successful crop, then…”
His eyes blazed as he suddenly turned to face her. “Perhaps I should get someone else,” he said.
“Perhaps you should talk to your mother before you go around firing the help she hired,” Jo replied tersely before heading back to the bog. Just when she thought the guy might be all right, interesting even, he morphed right back into big-city tycoon.