“Coop’s the head gardener, and Trace is his assistant. I do the programming and web design.” Ezra pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Carlisle. “You ought to bring your daughter to see it. We have an authentic Victorian village and a Native American village.”
“There’s a ghost,” Alex cried.
The big man Coop grinned at the boy, though Ezra and Trace exchanged glances and shook their heads.
“A ghost?” Grace whispered into Carlisle’s ear.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts, lovey.”
“Have you talked with my mother yet?” Mrs. Hurst asked Ezra.
“Who do you think told us you’d be here?” Ezra ruffled Alex’s hair. “She’s putting us up for the night. Come by when you’re done here.”
“Can we?” Alex asked.
“Yes, but we can’t stay late. You have school tomorrow.”
“See you later.” Ezra waved, and the three men left.
“A castle?” Carlisle asked as Mrs. Hurst led the way to a table.
“Some distant relative made it rich during the gold rush,” she said, removing Alex’s coat. “He had the family castle dismantled and brought to America.”
“With a family name of Savage, it must be an Irish castle.” Carlisle set down the box and put Grace’s coat on the back of one of the folding chairs.
“Yep, and they have fun playing up the Irish ghost who was supposed to have come with it. It’s just a lot of fun. Nothing too scary.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Carlisle scanned the room. It seemed the community center had been constructed to accommodate a variety of events with its stage on one end and what looked like a kitchen to the side.
“Have you seen many castles?” Mrs. Hurst asked.
Carlisle glanced at her, wary. It wasn’t often Americans recognized his name. Did she know who he was?
“It’s difficult not to see castles in England.” His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, thinking it would be his assistant. To his surprise, it was Grace’s nanny, Mrs. Henderson. She’d taken the evening off to visit her sister, who’d been feeling unwell.
My sister had a stroke, and I’m needed here to watch her children. I’m so sorry, but I have no idea how long I’ll be gone. You should find someone else to tend Grace. I hate to leave you in the lurch like this, but family comes first.
“Is everything all right?” Mrs. Hurst asked, watching him with concern.
“Just an inconvenience,” Carlisle said as he typed a quick reply. “My housekeeper’s sister had a stroke.”
“You call a stroke aninconvenience?”
He glanced up to find the woman staring at him, disbelieving. His face went warm at his insensitivity.
“Poor word choice. It’s obviously much more than an inconvenience for her and her sister. I meant an inconvenience for me as I must seek a new nanny.” He pocketed his phone again and pointed to the box. “What do we do now?”
Mrs. Hurst looked like she wanted to say something more. He was glad when she started pulling out clothing from the box instead.
“The businesses on Main Street provide the stands for the scarecrows. I’ll go get them while you take out the clothes in the box.”
The woman hurried off to the side where she approached a tall, pregnant woman. As they chatted, Mrs. Hurst said something, and the two women laughed. Mrs. Hurst’s rang with a joyous sound. It carried a brightness which appeared to be contagious. She glanced his way and then waved him over.
“Come, children.” Carlisle took their hands and led them to the waiting women.
“Annie has the great idea to have one of our scarecrows be a chef at her pastry shop,” Mrs. Hurst said. “She’s provided some special accessories.”
“What’s a chef?” Alex asked.
