Honeysuckle Summer (The Sweet Magnolias #7)(19)



On Saturday morning, done with fretting and ready to take action, he dragged the girls out of bed at what they considered the unholy hour of ten, and told them to be dressed and in the car in thirty minutes.

“Why?” Carrie asked with a moan. “It’s Saturday.”

“And you don’t want to waste a minute of it,” he said cheerfully.

Unimpressed by his good mood, she scowled back at him. “What’s the big hurry?”

“We have places to go, things to do, people to see,” he declared, using something their mother had frequently cited when she wanted them to get moving. She’d also said that getting everyone into the car was a little like herding cats, something he was just beginning to understand as his sisters grew increasingly stubborn and independent.

Carrie eyed him suspiciously. “What places? What things? What people?”

“You’ll see,” he told her. “Now, hustle.”

Mandy was marginally more upbeat and cooperative. Always eager for something new, she was downstairs shoveling Cheerios into her mouth in ten minutes.

“Can we drive over to McDonald’s for lunch?” she asked, even as she consumed enough cereal for five normal kids.

“We’ll see,” he told her.

“I don’t want fast food,” Carrie said, overhearing the end of the conversation as she wandered into the kitchen, still in her pj’s. “It’s too fattening.”

This was a recent refrain, he’d noticed. It had started when she turned fifteen and gotten worse as she approached her sixteenth birthday. He found it worrisome, since she weighed next to nothing as it was. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he told her emphatically. “Now, eat something, and let’s hit the road.”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “Unlike some people, I don’t have to eat my weight in cereal first thing in the morning.”

Carter frowned at her. “And unlike some people, you don’t have nearly as much energy. Eat! Do I need to remind you—”

“That breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she said sourly. “Okay, fine.”

He stood there until she’d finished at least a token serving of cereal, then rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

As soon as the girls were buckled into the car, he pulled out of the driveway and turned toward the nursery he’d spotted outside of town.

“Where are we going?” Carrie asked again. “There’s nothing out here. Why can’t we go to Columbia? At least there, we lived in civilization. There were actually movies in town, and stores. You promised when we moved here we could go back to visit, but you hardly ever take us.”

Carter had heard it all before. “I took you two weeks ago,” he reminded her. “We went to the mall, where you spent an hour calling your friends from your cell phone, instead of doing the shopping you’d told me was so vital to your very existence. Today we’re doing something different.”

“I know,” Mandy said excitedly. “We’re going to get plants for the garden, aren’t we? There’s a nursery out here.”

“You got it, kid,” he confirmed, only to see Carrie roll her eyes in disgust.

“I want tomatoes and squash and corn and maybe even watermelon, okay?” Mandy said. “I think there’s enough room in the backyard. And it’s really sunny back there, so everything should grow great.”

“We’ll ask at the nursery,” Carter said. “How about you, Carrie? What do you want in the garden this year?”

She was silent until he sent a warning look in her direction.

“Some lettuce and yellow peppers, I guess,” she said without much enthusiasm. “At least I can make a salad.”

“Good idea. I think we’ll get some flowers, too,” Carter said, his tone deliberately nonchalant. “They’d look nice out front, don’t you think?”

Next to him, Carrie made a face. “Who’s going to plant them and take care of them? Not me.”

“I will,” Mandy offered. “Flowers will look pretty by the front door.” She frowned. “But we’ve never grown them before. Mom always took care of the flowers. What if they die?”

An idea had been blossoming in Carter’s mind for a few days now. “I know someone who might be able to give us some advice,” he said.

“Who?” Carrie asked, instantly suspicious.

“A woman I met the other day.”

His sister gave him a knowing look. “So what? You’re using us and the whole flower thing to get a date or something?”

He shook his head at once. “It’s not like that,” he insisted, then fell silent, because the truth was, it might be exactly like that. If this worked out the way he hoped, he might be spending a whole lot more time with Raylene.



When an unfamiliar truck turned into the driveway at Sarah’s, Raylene checked to make sure the kids were still watching a video in the den with Laurie. They’d both fallen asleep on the sofa, and Laurie was looking through a teen magazine of some kind. Raylene left them and went to the door.

When Carter Rollins emerged from the truck, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt rather than his deputy uniform, she felt a little zing of anticipation. The sensation stunned her. Because of her marriage, she’d assumed there’d never be another man in her life she’d trust, much less be happy to see. That it happened to be this particular man was even more of a surprise.

Sherryl Woods's Books