Free Sparks Fly with Mr. Mayor by Teresa Carpenter Page A

decision.
    But wonder of wonders, she made it all the way to the snack booth and back without falling apart. She chose a bench that allowed her to see into the petting enclosure and sat.
    Eating popcorn and sipping lemonade, she watched Faith and Cole huddled over a soft bundle of white fur. He helped her hold the tiny bunny and pet it gently. Not always an easy chore with an over eager three-year-old. But with his gentle guidance, the bunny was as safe in her hands as she was in his.
    Sighing, she let the weight of the impulsive decision fade away. Maybe there was a lesson for herhere—that even though she was alone and totally responsible for her daughter’s health and well-being, not every decision had to be a massive debate. Maybe sometimes she could just go with the moment.
    And trust in an unexpected ally.
    One thing for sure, there was a whole lot more to Cole Sullivan than a captivating smile and laid-back attitude. From the seriousness at christening classes to the vulnerable flashes of emotion she’d seen, and his pride and love in what he’d created here at Sullivan’s, she realized the charming facade he showed the world hid a depth of character most people never saw. He even had his family fooled, which was amazing considering how close they were.
    She’d have preferred to remain ignorant herself. She’d had a hard enough time resisting him when she’d thought him charming but shallow. As an honorable, responsible adult he’d be devastating.

CHAPTER SIX
    C OLE PULLED his Ford 150 pickup into one of the few subdivisions in Paradise Pines. He didn’t care for the sameness of the homes, the sense of being one of many. But no doubt more would follow; few could afford to build on their own these days.
    He found his destination and parked under the shade of an old oak tree. Climbing from the truck, he admired the view.
    What a lovely picture mother and child made fussing in their small front yard. Faith pranced around in black pants and tiny black boots, her long-sleeved sweater in trademark pink, and two pink polka-dot ribbons tamed her dark hair into ponytails. In contrast her mother wore a faded University of Phoenix sweater shirt and torn jeans. A piece of the same polka-dot ribbon attempted—and failed—to contain the mass of sleek auburn tresses. Beautiful, both of them.
    When he reached the driveway, and picket fence, he came to a dead stop, his heart stuttering as he viewed the yard in the full light of day. Here was asurprise and an unexpected delight. She’d created a garden fit for a princess.
    Borders of verbena in waves of lavender to deep purple framed a lawn still green and lush for this late in the year. Slate pavers led the way to the corner away from the driveway and the shade of the house to a water fountain topped by a fairy happily gurgling amidst gladioli, towering black-eyed Susans, and some hearty and cheerful dahlias. Between the house and the water feature, a bougainvillea bower sheltered a patio swing.
    Lovely, fanciful and full of color, perfect for a three-year-old. And for Dani it was an obvious labor of love.
    Now he understood Gram’s question. He did admire a woman who knew her way around a garden.
    â€œThere, how does that look?” Dani adjusted the medium-size pumpkin on the porch a smidge to the left. She looked over her shoulder at Faith. “What do you think?”
    Faith jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “We got the bestest pumpkins ever.”
    â€œThe best,” Dani corrected as she stood back and surveyed the results of their efforts.
    â€œYep, the bestest.”
    Dani laughed, wrapped her arms around her baby and kissed the top of her head. Then she admired their work. They stood in the small yard facing the shallow porch that ran half the length of the house.
    On the ground and first step were seven apple-size pumpkins with rosy cheeks, big red noses and soft felt caps. On the porch the