Chapter 18

Eighteen

H enry

Sarah is a great helper. She’s getting steadier on her feet by the day, and she’s good at helping people pick out pumpkins.

“Helping!” she says.

With her as my assistant, I’m pretty sure I’m going to make bank today. Jane is going to win that bet; I had no idea, though, that she would fix the bet with her adorable pint-sized ringer.

An hour passes quickly, and I think about checking on Jane, but Sarah and I have it handled.

I spot the pumpkin judge before he spots me. The guy is hard to miss, wearing a blazer, a tie, and loafers to a pumpkin patch. A little weird, I think. But whatever. I’m ringing up a family with twelve pumpkins and it’s taking a minute, so he’ll have to wait.

While I’m ringing up the order, I see Sarah toddle over to the guy, arm outstretched. It’s a move she does when she wants someone to take her hand and follow her. She’s a bossy little thing and I’m going to give her a raise. I’ll be putting a commission into her college fund with every pumpkin she sells, whether Jane wants to let me or not.

Then something strange happens. A look of recognition on the man’s face gives me pause. The two of them walk hand in hand through the gift shop and pass by me a few feet away, and he speaks. “Sarah?”

Wait a minute. How does the pumpkin judge know her name? All of my inner alarm bells are going off. He knows her name, and I recognize that voice. Jane’s voicemails. Carl?

I excuse myself and follow them to where they’re headed to the pumpkin display. As I approach, I hear him talking to her. “No, no, Sarah, I don’t need a pumpkin. I came here to pick you up and take you home. Mommy sent me.”

I see red. All that’s going to be left of him when I’m done with him is that designer blazer.

Carl bends over to pick her up and my head explodes. I’ve never gotten into a fistfight with anyone before—I’m not an easily triggered guy—but now someone is messing with my family, and I no longer recognize myself. My legs move on their own to eat up the distance between Sarah and me.

Yes. That’s my family right there. Jane and Sarah. They’re mine, and they don’t belong with him or with anybody else.

Despite all the rage suffusing my body, I gently, calmly, snatch Sarah up in my arms and keep my tone friendly.

“Oops, sorry about that, sir. She’s so outgoing, we have to watch her at all times.” Turning to Sarah, I smile and say, “Where do you think you’re going?”

She giggles and points at the man, who I am now one hundred percent certain is Carl.

“Who are you and what are you doing with my daughter?” he asks.

I open my mouth to speak, but Sarah hugs my neck. “Daddy,” she says. My blood calms. Of course, I’m not going to kick anyone’s ass, especially not here in front of a child, in front of customers.

“Oh,” I say. “You must be Carl. Can I help you with something?”

“You can help me by giving me my daughter.”

Keep calm, Hank. This guy isn’t going to touch her without Jane’s consent.

Sarah buries her head in my neck. Yeah, I’m not a fan of this guy’s tone either, kid.

“I’m going to have to speak to Jane first. See, Sarah is in my care while Jane’s working, so if you’ll excuse me, Sarah and I need to finish ringing up an order. Come on, sweetie.”

We leave Carl to stew while I take my time ringing up customers, handing out corn maze maps to anyone who wants one, and several other tasks that need doing.

It’s not until I see Rocket, Jet, and Jane outside—with Jane frozen in her tracks like a deer in headlights—that I realize I should have texted her to warn her that Carl was here. She and Carl stare each other down, and I nearly sprint over to Jane with Sarah in my arms.

“Mommy!” Sarah dives from me to Jane and I begin apologizing. “I’m sorry, babe. I should have warned you, but we’ve been so busy. Turns out you were right about the weird colored pumpkins. We sold all the arrangements you made. You won the bet. Why don’t you and Sarah go back up to the house and take a nap while I take out the trash?”

Jane looks from Carl to me, and—unexpectedly—she smiles. “It’s OK. I got this.”