Savannah gently rolled the table to the corner of the sitting room opposite where the boys sat at the coffee table, effectively giving us a romantic table for two complete with a view of the formal gardens behind Heartstone Manor. Or what used to be the formal gardens. The outline of the beds was still there, but they were barren, waiting for Hawk and his skeleton crew of grounds people to find the time to deal with them.
The grounds were Hawk's side gig, the lure Griffen had used to draw him from Sinclair Security in Atlanta to our small town in the mountains of North Carolina. The idea had been for Hawk to split his time between security and getting the gardens back in shape, but since he'd arrived, security had been a full-time job. The neglected flower beds had been cut back and cleaned up, but nothing grew there and probably wouldn't for another year.
Farther from the house, the swimming pool sparkled in the early evening light. The pool house behind it wasn't in great shape, but Griffen had fixed up the pool as soon as Hope mentioned she liked to swim. His devotion to his new bride paid off for the rest of us. It wasn't hot yet, never got truly hot at this elevation, but we'd be grateful for the pool in July and August.
Scarlett joined me at the window, following my gaze. Her eyes hit the sparkling water. "How did I miss that?"
"We haven't explored outside yet," I said. "Does August swim?"
"He loves it, but he doesn't have a suit."
"We can take care of that," I said absently, stepping back and pulling out one of the chairs at our small table. "For now, dinner is served."
I barely noticed the meal, though I'm sure it was delicious. I was too focused on Scarlett. I asked her about teaching and spent the rest of the meal just enjoying her. Her enthusiasm for art history and for her students. The wrinkle in her nose when she talked about her sleazy department head and his plan to 'mentor' her. Clothing optional. I might have worried, but Scarlett's amusement, the tart way she'd brushed him off, told me she wasn't that concerned. I couldn't see anyone, even her boss, pushing this woman into doing something she didn't want to do.
Just as we were finishing our meal, August ran over, pushing into Scarlett's side until her arm came up around him in a hug. I watched them in fascination, unused to what a normal mother/son relationship looked like. Savannah was casually affectionate with Nicky, but they'd only been living with us for a few months, and I didn't run into Nicky that often. The separation between staff and family wasn't as strict as it had been in my father's day, but the lower level of the Manor, where Savannah and Nicky lived, wasn't a place I frequented.
August leaned into his mother with the confidence of a child who knows he's loved, knows he's always welcome, knows he'd never get the back of a hand for interrupting or being too loud.
"Mom," he said in what I think was supposed to be a whisper but wasn't in any way quiet. "Dessert?"
Scarlett craned her neck to check his plate. I lifted the silver lid to the remaining plate, revealing four perfect brownies.
August's eyes widened, his lips parting in awe. "Mom, please?"
Nuzzling his ear with her nose, she said, "One more chicken finger and two more carrots for each of you and you can have your dessert."
"Okay!" he shouted and bolted back to the coffee table to tell Nicky about the brownies.
Scarlett leaned toward me, lowering her voice to a much quieter whisper than August's. "Keep an eye on them, will you? Make sure those carrots don't end up shoved between the couch cushions."
"I'm on it," I promised, watching August stuff the required chicken finger into his mouth. When he got to the carrot, he rolled it around on the plate and glanced up casually. Spotting me watching, one shoulder shrugged, so much like his mother's shrug I grinned, and he picked up the carrot in resignation.
Soon enough, dinner was finished, the boys were munching on brownies, and Scarlett was chewing hers thoughtfully, eyes on the gardens outside the window. Despite her fixed stare, I had a feeling she was lost in her head and not the view of our derelict grounds. I was about to ask what she was thinking when my phone chimed with a text. Royal, wanting to touch base about the schedule at the Inn.
"I need to talk to Royal," I said, breaking into Scarlett's distraction. I wasn't sure she'd heard me when she dragged her gaze from the window to fix on my face. "I have to head to Royal's room to go over some things for work tomorrow since he's short-handed with Forrest still gone and me staying home."