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“We did. Was your afternoon worse?”
“How could it get worse?”
“Someone had to tell Mr. Greeley’s family, and rumor is someone had to talk to Mr. Lawrence.”
“Ben Little Bear in both cases. Greeley didn’t have any close family. His ex-wife said the appropriate things and seemed to genuinely regret having to tell their children. They’re teenagers. Sad they had to lose their father this way.”
Mila looked right and left before stepping off the curb to cross Elm, then shifted her gaze to the sidewalk as if it was a threat. The downtown sidewalks were over a century old, but they were decently maintained. She wasn’t likely to trip on a crack and take a header if she didn’t watch like a hawk.
Maybe Greeley’s kids were harder to think about than his death or his ex-wife. Maybe she had a tender spot for kids, especially since her own parents weren’t around. There’d been that moment at dinner last week, when he’d asked about Jessica’s secret for dinner and Mila had…
Well, if it had been anyone else, he would have just said she got upset. But she was so controlled, it carried more weight than just upset. More like meltdown.
At odd moments, he still found himself wondering why.
Deliberately Sam changed the subject. “Did I tell you my dad owns a plant nursery?”
That made her look at him, her brows both tilted up. “Douglas Plant Farm? Is that him?”
He nodded. “Mom helps out part-time, but she makes him pay her. She says being a Douglas and working for free would make people think she’s the Douglas, and she doesn’t want that responsibility on her shoulders. This way it’s clear she’s one of the sheep, not the shepherd.”
She almost smiled again. “Most of the plants in my garden came from there. I had to order some online, and my crape myrtles are all volunteers from our old house before Gramma and I both moved, but I bought the rest there.”
“If you want to keep shopping quick and easy, don’t tell Mom you know me. She’s inordinately interested in every female I meet between the ages of twenty and forty. On the other hand, if you want first dibs on some of the cool stuff Dad gets, drop my name. He’ll set it aside for you.”
Her mouth twitched, and he asked, “What? What’s that twitch?”
“I’ve never name-dropped once in my life. I never knew any names to drop.”
Though she said the words in her usual tone, Sam got the impression that she meant them very seriously. She’d never had many friends, many people to trust. The first time he’d seen her, he’d thought she was totally alone in the midst of the crowd. Every meeting since had helped solidify the feeling. A woman her age should be dating, partying, hanging out with friends, clubbing until the early hours. She should be keeping company with someone other than her dog and her grandmother, no matter how lovely they both were. She shouldn’t be so isolated.
Unless she liked isolation, but Sam didn’t really think that was the case.
As they passed an open lot, Poppy spotted a rabbit and veered hard in that direction. Sam grabbed hold of the leash when Mila stumbled, taking the pressure off her wrist. “Would she know what to do with a rabbit if she caught it?”
“With Poppy, who knows?”
He tugged on the leash, and she relinquished it to him in case of future bunny attacks. “You know, you can train her not to pull or run or jump with a few treats and a little discipline.”
“Discipline is highly overrated.” Her voice and expression were equally flat, her gaze narrow, but after a moment, she swallowed hard, exhaled and forced a lighter tone. “Isn’t pulling and running and jumping what puppies are supposed to do?”
Again questions about her parents came to the forefront of his mind. Too much discipline? Was that the reason her grandmother had done at least part of her raising?
Just the thought set every protective instinct inside him on high alert, but he kept them under control and instead lightly said, “I think pulling, running and jumping is what we’re all supposed to do until we get too old or too tired or too creaky or too fat.”
She gave him a long look that roused awareness, from the tiny sweat-coated pores on the surface of his skin all the way deep down inside him. He had no idea what she wanted to find, but if it was good, he hoped it was there with lights flashing. If it was something that might make her keep her distance from him, he hoped it had never been.
