Rachel chuckled. “A pig farm? Really, Mom?”

Mary sighed. “Just keep her away from the customers, please.”

Rachel held up a hand to hide her smile and tried to guide Maeve away from people as they wandered through the store. She had just decided to find the lunches their mothers had packed for them when the little girl looked over at her.

“My eyes are seeing funny,” she said and, using her two tiny fists, rubbed at them before looking up in confusion.

Rachel bent down. “What does that mean?” she asked. “Are you sleepy?”

The little girl just stared up at her wordlessly for a long moment before collapsing into her arms.

“Hey! Mom! Help! Maeve’s fainted!”

Mary looked over and, seeing Rachel’s look of panic and Maeve’s crumpled form, immediately hurried over. “What happened?” she asked, reaching out to check Maeve’s head for a temperature. “Hand her to me. I’ll take her into the back office and see if I can figure out what’s going on. You call Kara on her cell phone and get her to meet me there.”

Rachel reached for her phone as Mary made her way to the back office and laid the girl gently on the couch.

“What’s wrong with her?” Rachel asked a moment later, after calling Kara and following her mother to the back office.

“I’m not sure. She’s coming around now, but she shouldn’t be fainting like that,” Mary said, leaning over Maeve. “I wonder if this is what happened earlier in the week,” she added, frowning. “Kara needs to take her back to the pediatrician so they can run some more tests.”

A moment later, Kara opened the door, pausing for a moment when she saw Rachel and Mary leaning over Maeve. She rushed over to join them. “What happened? What’s going on?” she asked, taking her daughter’s hand and hugging the little girl to her as she checked her stitches.

“She fainted,” explained Rachel, her voice trembling. “She seemed just fine when she was playing with me earlier. Then suddenly, she told me her eyes were seeing funny, and she passed right out. Mom carried her back here, and we’ve only been here a moment, and she’s come around, but…”

Maeve’s color was slowly returning to her cheeks, and she was now struggling to sit up even as both Mary and Kara pressed her back gently and told her to keep lying down.

After shooting a worried frown at her daughter, Kara pulled her phone from her apron pocket and hit the numbers that would connect her with the pediatrician’s office.

Scott sat in one of Sullivan’s Place’s comfortable barstools and watched the baseball game being played on the overhead television screens. As he took in all the action, he couldn’t help but critique the game. The pitchers were good—both were young kids, and both were throwing fast. And so far, they were also showing reasonable control. The older of the two was from Japan and had an interesting pitching style. So far, no one from the home team could figure out how to hit off him. That would happen in time though, and then, depending on how he adapted, everyone would see how good he really was.

“So, what do you think?” Mark asked from behind the bar where he was pulling drafts. “Are we going to have a playoff team this year, or will it be another losing season for us?”

Scott grinned. “Well, it’s early going yet, and there are plenty of games in the season still to be played, but so far, things look pretty good. As long as we don’t have too many injuries, I would say we’re at least going to get a playoff spot. And then”—he shrugged—“who knows? Playoffs bring out the best and worst in ballplayers.”

Settling back on his barstool, Scott took a long drink. He still enjoyed talking about baseball, and so far, no one here seemed to have figured out that he had played in the big leagues. This meant he was spared from all the crazy questions about what it was really like—which was nice.

The overhead television caught his attention again as the pitcher struck out the man at the plate and retired the side to close off the inning. The patrons on either side of Scott cheered, and he smiled as he saw Mark was now standing across from him.

Scott tipped his beer bottle in the man’s direction.

“I’ve heard through the town grapevine that you’re opening up a law firm here in Larkin Bay with Courtney,” Mark said as he wiped the counter between them.

“Yep,” replied Scott, lifting his beer so Mark could clean the entire bar surface. “We’re going to try hanging out a shingle here in Larkin Bay and see how we do. We’re both pretty excited about it.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, it seems like a great town,” Scott added, figuring it couldn’t hurt business for him to be heard singing Larkin Bay’s praises. Besides, it was true. So far, everything he had seen made him honestly believe it was a great town.

“We like it,” Mark replied and turned away to serve another customer.

Scott settled back onto his high-backed barstool and returned to watching the game. At the end of the next inning, Mark appeared in front of him again.

“So Kara tells me you like baseball,” he said.

Scott sighed and his brow furrowed, wondering if his days of watching a baseball game in public without the predictable, curious questions about his time in the major leagues were about to come to an end.

“Yep,” he replied. He didn’t want to appear rude, but he also didn’t want to encourage a conversation about his past.

“We have a pretty good men’s league here in town,” Mark shared. “If you’re ever interested in coming out to watch a game, we play almost every Thursday at the local fields.”

Scott blinked. That’s it? Mark just wanted to let him know there were games in town that he could watch? No questions about his past, what the big leagues were like, or why he had quit?

“Um, that’s great to know,” Scott stammered in reply. “Thanks for the invitation. I’ll try to come out and watch sometime.”

“Yeah, you should. You’ll like it. Usually everyone comes back here after the game for drinks and food too. You’re always welcome if you’d like to join us.” He paused for a long moment before adding, “Kara will be there too.”

Kara.

Scott looked at Mark sharply for a minute and blinked hard. But Mark had already turned away and was serving another customer.

Did Kara ask her brother to invite me to a game? Or is it just an innocent and coincidental remark because he knows we’re already acquainted?

Scott picked up his beer and sipped it slowly. “That would be great, thank you,” he called over a few moments later to Mark, who looked back and nodded.

When the televised baseball game was over, Scott drained the last of his beer and tossed some money onto the bar in front of him. He decided that he would go back to Kara’s garden center and buy a plant for his new apartment at some point tomorrow. While he was there, he could see how Maeve was healing, and if he ran into Kara too, then he might just ask her out for dinner as well.

“Does Maeve’s dad play on one of the teams too?” he asked Mark when he came over to pick up the bills Scott had dropped.

Mark looked puzzled. “No, not usually,” he replied. Pulling over a cardboard coaster, he wrote the league’s website information on the back and passed it over to Scott. “This site has all the details about when and where the town games are being played,” he said.

“I’ll be sure to drop by soon,” Scott promised.

“Sounds good. Sorry I can’t talk more, but we’re getting busy,” Mark replied before turning away.

Scott smiled, picked up the coat from the back of his chair, and nodded at one of the young men waiting behind him for a stool to open up. “It’s all yours,” he said. Leaving the bar, he hummed happily as he realized no one had bothered him all evening for a picture or an autograph.

How wonderful it was to be anonymous again.

Chapter Seven

When she first took over her mother’s garden center, Kara hadn’t considered all the paperwork she would have to do, nor the stress involved in managing a small business. Instead, she had dreamed about spending her days playing with dirt and plants and creating stunning arrangements for people to enjoy and use to beautify their homes.

This is what I love doing.

“We’ve got lots of impatiens out back,” she said to Ernie, who was hauling plant materials to her potting bench for her. “But they are so boring alone. Can you find me anything else in the greenhouse?” She tilted her head to one side. “I’d love some purple trailing petunias, and if I’m using up the excess hot-pink impatiens from our stock, then I’d love to add some white osteospermums to give these combinations some extra zing.”