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charity. I’m going to pay you.”

      “You can pay me by getting that jerk who calls himself a contractor out of this house. Stewart Manor deserves the best. That’s me.” Rafe entered the kitchen and stopped, eyeing the oak cabinets.

      Shelby smiled. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? But I don’t think they’re part of the original house.”

      Rafe ran his hand over the fine wood grain. “No, they weren’t. They were put in about twenty years ago.”

      “How do you know that?”

      “Because my dad did the work.” He said this with such pride that she envied him his childhood and the obvious love and respect he had for his father.

      “The cabinets are my favorite thing in this kitchen,” she said.

      He turned to her. “And if you love this house as much as I think you do, get rid of Norton.”

      “Stop giving me orders, Mr. Covelli.”

      “It’s Rafe.”

      Shelby swallowed as she looked into his intense dark eyes.

      “What do you say, Shelby? Do we have a deal? I’ll do the repairs on the roof if you tell Gus to get lost.”

      “I told you I won’t take your charity. Maybe we can trade something.”

      A twinkle appeared in his eyes and she rushed on to suggest, “How about I teach you about computers?”

      He blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

      “Take it or leave it,” Shelby said.

      Rafe couldn’t believe this was happening. He was bargaining to get the privilege to repair her roof. When had he lost the upper hand here? But it was worth it when Shelby went upstairs to find Gus Norton and told him the bad news.

      Just as she returned to the kitchen, a teenage boy came rushing to the back door. “Miss Harris. Miss Harris.”

      Shelby dashed outside, Rafe following. “What is it, Josh?”

      “It’s my grandfather. I think he fell.” The boy pointed to the yard.

      Shelby hurried across the lawn. Rafe was right behind her. When they reached the rose garden, they found Ely Cullen lying on the ground.

      “Don’t move him,” Rafe said. He knelt down beside the man. “Ely, can you hear me?”

      “Of course I can hear you.” The old man tried to get up. “I just lost my balance. Bum knee gave out.” He sat up with help from Rafe.

      “Wait. Let me check to see if anything is broken.”

      “Ain’t nothin’ broken—just my pride.”

      “Maybe I should take you to the doctor just in case,” Rate suggested as he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the scratch on Ely’s head. “Does anything hurt?”

      “Son, at my age something always hurts.”

      “Grandpa, maybe you should go. You have scratches on your face and arm.” The blond teenager looked concerned.

      “Josh, I fell on the grass. I’m fine. Like I said, my knee gave out. Just need a little help getting up.”

      Rate eased the man to his feet. The old man did seem steady enough. “Ely, what are you doing out here at seven in the morning?”

      “I’m working for Miss Shelby. We’re going to get the lawn and garden in shape by the end of the summer.”

      Rafe had had just about enough. Shelby Harris had hired the area’s worst contractor, and then a seventy-seven-year-old man to help with the yard work. He assisted Ely into a lawn chair.

      “I’ll get you a glass of water,” Shelby said.

      Rafe stopped her. “I think, to be on the safe side, we should run Ely to the clinic.”

      “I don’t need to go,” Ely argued.

      Rafe exchanged a worried glance with Shelby. She swallowed hard and he could see her fear. “Please, Ely. I’d feel better if you were checked out. I am responsible for your safety, after all.”

      The older man smiled. “It wasn’t your fault.”

      Shelby wanted to kiss the old man. “I know it wasn’t. It wasn’t anyone’s. But an accident happened.” Oh, Lord, she thought, what if he really was hurt?

      “Okay, I’ll go to the doctor as long as this doesn’t mean I can’t work in the garden.”

      “If the doctor says it’s okay, you can work here all you want.”

      “I’ll get the truck,” Rafe said, and rushed off.

      Shelby watched him go, knowing that Rafe Covelli was going to give her a lecture over this one. But right now all she cared about was getting Ely taken care of.

      Chapter Three

      Shelby sat in the Mayfair Clinic waiting room with Josh. As she anxiously waited for news, she played a few games of hearts and thumbed through every old magazine on the table.

      “I promised my dad I’d watch Grandpa. I’m sorry, Miss Harris.”

      “Call me, Shelby, Josh. And I’m not blaming you for anything. It was an accident. We just have to watch your grandfather more closely.”

      “He isn’t going to lose his job, is he? Ever since he came home two days ago telling us about the new owner of Stewart Manor, all he’s talked about is working in Miss Hannah’s garden again. I haven’t seen him so happy in a long time. If I promise to stay with him, can he still work?”

      “Of course. I’d love to have Ely working at the house. His gardening experience is a valuable asset.”

      Just then Rafe and Ely came down the hall. Ely had a bandage on his forehead. She and Josh both went to them. “Are you okay, Grandpa?”

      Shelby looked at Rafe for verification. “Ely is fine. The doctor said he’s got a few bruises and scratches. He just put a little too much strain on his bad knee.”

      “It’s the pits being old,” Ely said. “You feel so dang useless.”

      “You aren’t useless, Ely. Your skills are priceless. Just don’t overdo.” She surprised herself and grasped both his hands. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

      The older man nodded. “I’ll have Josh do the hard physical work.”

      “You just go slower,” Shelby suggested. “And concentrate on the rose garden. I think I can scrape together enough to have some men come in and do the mowing and trimming.”

      Ely grinned. “I know a few men who could use a little money, and if I supervise, it’ll get done right.”

      Shelby turned to Rafe and found a pleased look on his face. “How about we go to lunch and discuss it?” he asked. “My treat.”

      When they all started out the door, Shelby hung back to talk with Rafe. “You don’t need to take us to lunch. I can handle that. I’m paying.”

      “Fine. You try and convince my mother to take your money.”

      “I will,” she said, determinedly. “And I’m responsible for Ely’s doctor bill, too. How much was it?”

      Rafe kept walking. “I’ll just add it to whatever else you owe me.”

      “I owe you nothing,” she insisted in a hushed tone.

      “The patch job on the roof,” he reminded her.

      “I thought we were doing a trade. I was going to teach you how to use a computer.”

      Rafe frowned. “Get real,

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