The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

He frowned at his pipe, which appeared to have gone out. He struck another match and tried again. “The salary is about the same,” he went on, “although I think Jackman would be willing to add on a premium because it’s short-term—and maybe a little extra to cover your board and room, since you’d have to find a place to stay. His wife says she would be glad to help you find something suitable.”


Not looking up, Lizzy began to unwrap her sandwich. Her heart was beating so loud that she was sure he could hear it. Was Mr. Moseley just being kind, or was he unhappy with her work? Maybe he thought she’d be moping around the office because of that business with Grady. Maybe he—

“I’m not saying you should do this, Liz.” Mr. Moseley leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get rid of you. You ought to know by now how valuable you are, and how important you are to the smooth running of this office. But I also have a pretty good idea of just how painful this situation with Alexander is likely to be, especially if he and his wife come to Darling to live. I heard that they are thinking of buying—” He gave her a querying look. “But maybe you know.”

She stirred sugar into her coffee. “If you’re talking about the Harrison house, yes. My mother told me.”

“I’ll bet she did,” he muttered into his coffee cup. He could just imagine the scene. Mrs. Lacy had probably raked Liz over the coals for letting Grady Alexander get away. He looked up. “Yes, the Harrison house. I ran into Joe Lee Manning this morning. He says Grady and the girl looked at the place yesterday. Manning thinks he’s likely to buy it.”

Lizzy bit off the corner of her sandwich. “Then we’ll be neighbors,” she said. “It’s just down the street from me. I go past it on my way to and from work. It’s a nice house,” she added lamely. “Or it will be, with a little work.”

She turned away, not wanting him to see the sudden tears in her eyes. She was reconciled to the marriage now, she thought, but the idea that Grady and his wife were going to be living so close to her—that was much harder to handle. She brushed her hand across her face, catching the tears.

Seeing the gesture, Bent understood and wished, not for the first time, that he could put his arms around her and comfort her. But he knew that was completely out of the question. Working closely the way they did, things could get complicated if he—

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, if you ask me, it doesn’t show very good judgment. As far as his wife is concerned, especially. He should get them a place near her family, where she has friends. She doesn’t know anybody over here. And she’s very young, I understand.”

“Yes.” Liz’s voice was thin and sad. “She’s barely twenty. She’ll be lonely.”

Impulsively, Bent put out his hand, not quite touching her arm, then drew back. “Look, Liz. You’ve lived here all your life. You know what this town is like. People love to talk about everybody else’s business. Alexander’s marriage is likely to be the main subject of conversation for weeks, and after that—” He paused, giving her a wry smile.

Lizzy felt the warmth of his compassion for her and was grateful. She completed his sentence. “And after that, they’ll talk about the baby.” She managed a small smile. “Weddings, funerals, new babies—big topics of conversation in a small town.”

She raised her eyes to his, wanting him to understand and not cast blame. “Grady didn’t try to hide it from me, Mr. Moseley. He told me they’re expecting.” Oddly, she felt defensive, standing up for Grady in the face of Mr. Moseley’s criticism. “It wasn’t something planned, you know. It was a mistake. An . . . an accident. Accidents happen.”

“I understand,” Mr. Moseley said. She saw the darkness in his eyes. “Believe me, Liz, I understand.”