Fortune Finds Florist. Arlene James

even a little one.”

      “You are one cold b—”

      “Don’t think you can stand here and call me filthy names on my own doorstep!” she interrupted hotly.

      “And some doorstep it is, too!”

      “This doorstep is mine, Dennis. What does yours look like?”

      “Oh, yeah, rub it in, why don’t you? Money gets dumped in your lap, and I’m living hand-to-mouth. I get that, believe me!”

      “Stop it!”

      Sierra whirled around to find Tyree in the open doorway, her face contorted, tears streaming from her eyes.

      “Stop it!” she screamed again. “Stop fighting! I hate you fighting!”

      “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” Sierra began.

      At the same moment, Dennis accused, “Now look what you’ve done.”

      “What I’ve done?” Sierra exclaimed.

      At that, Tyree tore across the porch and ran around the corner.

      “Well, that’s just terrific!” Dennis shouted, throwing up his hands.

      “Get out of here!” Sierra told him angrily. “I mean it, Dennis. Go!”

      Dennis yanked open his car door. “Fine. You’ve ruined the whole day, anyway!” He dropped down behind the wheel and slammed the door. He was mouthing angry words as he drove away, but the window was up and the engine was running, and she didn’t really care to hear it, anyway. She felt physically ill as she swung off the porch and around the house to go in search of her daughter. This was one day that surely couldn’t get any worse.

      Chapter Four

      “Thank God!”

      Sam turned from a giggling Tyree to her mother. He’d been hanging the first sheet of rigid plastic that would enclose the framework of the greenhouse when the girl had stumbled into him, sobbing. He’d caught her midfall, set her down, calmed her and teased a giggle out of her, but he still didn’t know what the problem was. He wasn’t surprised, however, that her mother had shown up.

      “She’s all right,” he said encouragingly.

      Sierra flashed him a wary look and focused once more on her daughter, who perched on a board laid across a pair of sawhorses. “I’ve looked all over for you.”

      To Sam’s surprise, Tyree folded her arms and stuck out her chin. She was a cute kid. Her hair was darker and not quite as curly as her mom’s, but otherwise she looked just like a young Sierra sitting there. Sam hid a smile, bowing his head.

      “I’m not talking to you,” the child announced baldly.

      Sam spoke from pure habit, using the same easy, no-nonsense tone that he employed with his sisters. “Hey, now, that’s no way for a little girl to act. Your mom’s obviously been worried about you.”

      Tyree’s mulish expression intensified. “She was fighting with my daddy. I hate it when she fights with my daddy.”

      Sam shot a look at Sierra, who frowned guiltily. The sadness in her eyes pricked Sam’s heart. “Yeah,” Sam said to Tyree, “my parents used to fight, and I hated it, too, but you know what? Parents are just like kids sometimes. They get hurt and angry, too, and sometimes it spills out of their mouths without thinking. They’re almost always sorry about it later.”

      Tyree glanced at her mother, then down at her hands. “Well, it hurts my feelings when they fight, so I don’t want to talk to her.”

      “Uh-huh, the thing is, though, parents don’t stop being parents even if they do act like kids sometimes, and kids don’t get a pass on being respectful even when their parents behave like that.” Tyree flattened her lips in a gesture of pure disgust, and Sam laughed. She was her mother’s daughter. “Them’s the world’s rules, cupcake,” he told her, chucking her under that Sierra chin. She sighed profoundly.

      “Honey, I’m sorry,” Sierra said, finally moving toward them. “Maybe your dad can take you to lunch tomorrow. Okay?”

      “Okay,” Tyree said grudgingly. “I guess I can give him his stuff then.”

      “Stuff?” Sierra echoed, and Sam heard the anger and dismay in her tone.

      Tyree hopped down off the section of beam, saying smartly, “He doesn’t have an Internet account. Why shouldn’t I help him order his stuff?”

      “Because he doesn’t pay for the things you order for him, Tyree.”

      “So? He hasn’t got any money, and we’ve got lots!”

      “But what about his pride?” Sam interjected, shocked and alarmed by what he was hearing. “A man’s got to have his pride, you know, and his pride’s definitely going to sting if he lets his little girl pay for his stuff.” Tyree looked troubled by that, so he pressed on. “He may not say so because he probably wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, and maybe he really needs the stuff, but deep down it’s gotta sting. You know?”

      Tyree bit her lip. Oh, man, her mom to her toe-nails, this one, which was good, since he was getting really bad vibes about her old man. What was it with some men? Tyree looked at her mom.

      “I want to call him. Can I call him? Please?”

      Sierra swallowed, then nodded. “Tell him to come tomorrow, okay?”

      “Okay.” With that Tyree turned and ran toward the house, her figure blurring as she moved behind the thick, colorless plastic.

      Sierra pressed a hand to her forehead, then straightened and met his gaze. “Thank you.”

      He shrugged and looked away, but she drew his eyes back to her like metal shavings to a magnet. Even wearing a big, sloppy sweater and jeans with simple canvas shoes she looked sexy. She wandered a little closer, her shoes scuffing against the ground.