Page 86 of Matthew
She inhaled and blinked. “Oh, that’s good.”
“It is good,” her sister said. “I don’t know what the man has done to get through your walls, especially to be allowed into your home.”
“I—” She paused, then sighed. “I found out yesterday that he’s been sleeping on the property to keep an eye on things.”
“What? He really slept out there?”
Callie leaned back, her eyes drifting toward the greenhouse. “Yeah. In the lean-to. For three nights before I found out. Said he didn’t tell me because I’d insist on staying out there with him.”
Maggie was quiet for a moment. “Okay, that’s actually…really sweet.”
“Yeah.” Callie smiled into her coffee. “It kind of is.”
After a few more minutes of exchanging laughter, banter, and some healthy teasing, Callie ended the call, her smile lingering a little longer than she expected. She set the phonedown, finished her coffee, and forced her attention back to the screen in front of her.
Paperwork first. Paranoia later.
For the next half hour, she focused on updating invoices and cross-checking the week’s supply orders. Nothing jumped out as odd, no last-minute delivery changes, no surprise shipments. She flagged one unpaid balance and emailed the customer a polite reminder, then made a note to double-check the incoming soil delivery scheduled for Wednesday.
Once the worst of the admin clutter was cleared, she stood, stretched her shoulders, and looked down at Sammy. “Greenhouse check?”
His tail thumped in approval.
She hesitated for half a second before heading out. The air had thickened, not only with heat but also with that edge she couldn’t shake. As if something was circling.
The worst part was, she didn’t know if it was in her head—or something real.
She was used to second-guessing herself, always erring on the side of logic. Lately, though, her instincts were sharper. Louder. As if they were tired of being ignored.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and stepped out into the sunlight, the heat already pressing harder than it had earlier. As she rounded the corner of the shed, she nearly collided with Nate, who was hauling a stack of empty flats toward the compost bins.
“Whoa there,” he said, steadying the trays. “You on patrol now?”
“Routine check,” she said. “Some of the seedlings in Greenhouse Two looked a little off last week.”
Sammy trotted over to Nate without hesitation, his tail wagging as if they were old war buddies.
“Look at this,” Callie muttered, eyeing the traitorous Golden Retriever. “Abandoning me the second the sun hits ninety.”
Nate grinned. “He knows better than to follow you into that oven. I’m headed toward the shade with a hose and a chew toy. Want me to bring him by later?”
Callie sighed in exaggerated betrayal. “Fine. Go ahead. At least one of us gets to enjoy air movement.”
She gave Sammy a final scratch behind the ears, then headed toward the greenhouse, already feeling the back of her neck start to sweat.
August in Texas might be her least favorite month of the year, but her plants sure loved it as long as daily watering was part of their routine.
Callie ducked into the greenhouse, the temperature climbing with every step. The heavy, humid air clung to her skin, instantly beading sweat along her hairline. It wasn’t the heat that made her uneasy, though.
She was beginning to wonder if she’d ever feel calm again.
Exhaling, she moved slowly down the aisle, her gaze sweeping over the benches, the hanging baskets, the rows of potted herbs and ornamentals. A few looked a little worse for wear, not uncommon in this oppressive weather. She checked the trays of seedlings. Most were thriving. Tomato starts were pushing toward their second leaves. The basil looked lush. The hydrangeas in the corner needed a bit more light, and she paused by a small table of petunias to remove a pair of spent blooms.
But overall, things were steady.
Then she moved on, brow furrowing slightly as she stepped toward a display of plants in the back corner that didn’t look right. She crouched beside a tray of lemon balm and creeping thyme. The leaves were limp, edges browned, not fromdehydration or sun scorch. No. It was something subtler. More deliberate.
Her gut clenched.
