“Yes, ma’am. I’ve studied the trail maps at the library.”
“Have you ever hiked there?”
A bit of the light in the girl’s eyes faded. “No ma’am. With school and all, I’m very busy.”
And all? Farrin wondered if Janie worked her children like little servants at home. Had she made a mistake by agreeing to Janie’s idea of letting the children earn some money, too? Did they not have time to be children?
“What kind of wildflowers do you like best?”
“Oh, I love them all. Sometimes I wish I could fill my room with them, but Jason probably wouldn’t like that. Too girly.”
“You and Jason share a room?”
A stricken look froze Dara’s face. “Uh . . . sort of.” She looked down at her feet, then up again, something Farrin had seen Janie do more than once. “One room, but we have a divider down the middle. It’s like one of those screens people change clothes behind in old movies.”
“Ah. And I bet your half is cleaner.”
Dara smiled at that, and Farrin’s heart lifted that she was able to help the girl get past the uncomfortable moment. Farrin hadn’t really thought about it, but now it made sense that a single mom probably couldn’t afford more than a two-bedroom apartment. The screen was likely there to help give the kids some sense of privacy. She thought of her own home, of all the space she had for a solitary person, and felt greedy.
“Are you drawing dresses?” Dara asked as she pointed at the sketchpad.
“Yes. Would you like to see?”
“Yes, please.” Janie had done a good job teaching her children, at least her daughter, manners.
Farrin patted the bench beside her. Dara slipped into the spot, her face eager.
“Do you know who Mari Tremont is?”
Dara looked up at Farrin. “She’s been in lots of movies. I liked her in Moon Over Meadow Lake.”
“That’s my favorite of hers, too. Great minds think alike, huh?”
Dara’s smile widened and her cheeks pinkened.
“Well, Mari is getting married next year, and this is her wedding dress.” Farrin held out the sketchpad to Dara, who seemed hesitant to touch it. “It’s okay.”
Dara took the pad and stared at the simple, spaghetti-strapped design. “It looks so light, like the wind.”
“She’s getting married in Barbados, so she needs something cool and simple.”
“Because it’s hot there. Is it going to be a beach wedding?”
“You know where Barbados is?”
“Yes, I love maps. Not just the ones of the trails around here, but all of them. I haven’t seen a map I didn’t like.”
“That so? Do you want to travel someday?”
“Oh, yes. I dream about going places all the time. Alaska, China, Australia, Antarctica, Chile. Doesn’t matter where, they all look so interesting.”
“I bet you’re the smartest person in your class, aren’t you?”
Dara’s smile dimmed. “I have the best grades.”
Another similarity between the two of them clicked into place. “And the other kids make fun of you because of it, right?”
Dara’s big blue eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Because I was once in the same spot. Only I wasn’t half so pretty as you. You’ve got both beauty and brains, so you’re a lucky girl. And don’t you let any of those other kids tell you any differently. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but someday what they think won’t matter. You’ll go to all those places you want to visit, you’ll have a fabulous job, whatever you want to do, and you’ll have lots of friends.”
How could she tell this hopeful little girl these things when she herself hadn’t come that far? Because by giving Dara hope, the girl wouldn’t make the same alienating mistakes she’d made. Yes, Farrin had friends, but she held them at a distance. Only she hadn’t really realized it until now. She did have a great career, if only she could find a balance between it and the rest of her life. She was working on that now, wasn’t she? Baby steps. Slow but they got you to your destination. And she’d definitely seen lots of places she’d dreamed about as a girl.
Dara carefully flipped to the following pages in the sketchpad, and Farrin told her about each of the designs and how she’d decided what style to create for each client.
“They’re all so beautiful. It must be fun to make pretty dresses for movie stars and princesses.”
“Yes, it’s allowed me to do what I love and meet some very interesting people.”
“Dara,” Janie called from the doorway. “Come inside and stop bothering Farrin.”
“She’s not bothering me. I was just asking her opinion on some of my designs.”
“They’re beautiful, Mom. They’re right out of a fairytale, like Cinderella going to the ball.”
“I’m sure they are, but you have work to do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dara handed the sketchpad back to Farrin. “Thank you for letting me look at them.”
“Anytime.” She meant it. This little girl had gotten more joy out of her sketches than the clients often did out of the finished products. It made Farrin’s heart expand so much her chest tightened.
Dara headed toward her mother.
“Dara,” Farrin said.
The girl stopped and turned back toward her.
“Mari Tremont’s wedding . . . it’s not on the beach exactly because of the helicopters trying to get pictures for magazines, but you can see the beach. And the sand is so white it’s nearly blinding. The water is a blue so beautiful you could stare at it for days without blinking. You imagine that beach whenever you feel down, okay?”
Dara smiled and nodded. Then she turned and took that image with her as she returned to the tasks her mother had assigned her.
Farrin sat for several minutes, staring at the open doorway where the two of them had disappeared. She wished someone had told her about the impossibly beautiful beach when she’d been Dara’s age. It was the kind of thing that could fire the imagination enough to get teased little girls through some of the bumps of life. At least she hoped so, for Dara’s sake.
She looked down at the sketch and tried to imagine Cinderella arriving at the ball in Mari Tremont’s backless, wispy slip of a dress. She smiled. The kingdom would have been scandalized.
****
After Janie and her twins left for the day, Farrin returned to the garden, intent on enjoying the last of the sun’s rays before it disappeared behind the rolling orange and yellow ridges of the Appalachians.
She flipped through her sketchpad, happy with the work she’d been able to complete despite having to devote much of her day to the inn. She inhaled deeply, incredibly pleased with the feeling of accomplishment.
“I hear you’re in need of a gardener.”
Farrin looked up to see Drew leaning on the brick half-wall.
“You heard correctly.”
“Well, I’ve been told I have something of a green thumb.”
“That so?”
“You saw Faye’s back yard. And I’d be happy to show you what I’ve done out at my place. I’ve got some time in the morning.”
“I’m busy tomorrow. Tammie and I are going hiking.”
Drew looked up at the sky. “If we hurry, you can see most of it before it gets dark.”
Farrin swallowed. Why did the thought of looking at some gardens make her nervous? “How far is it?”
“I live out on Riverview Road. The place overlooks the river.”
Farrin gathered her work and stood. “I’ll follow you.”
“You can ride with me.”
“I don’t want you to have to drive back into town.” She was afraid he’d say something like he didn’t mind, but he only nodded and pushed away from the wall.
“I’ll meet you on the side of the courthouse next to my office.” He headed down the sidewalk.
This was a business arrangement. She wanted the best man for each job related to the inn, and if Drew was the be
st gardener, she’d hire him. Maybe being around him more was the key to letting go of those lingering hints of attraction.
Farrin followed Drew’s small black SUV as he maneuvered through the curves and hills leading toward the river. The trees along Riverview Road were stunning in their bright autumn colors accented by the setting sun. She needed to get this tour and interview completed so she could return to town before it got totally dark. She was no longer used to driving on these narrow, shoulderless roads, especially at night. And the last thing she needed to do was destroy the rental car by running over a deer.
Drew turned onto a gravel lane that disappeared behind a line of trees. Inside the forested area, darkness was already making its presence known. But when they drove into a clearing on the opposite side, daylight returned. Farrin hit the brakes and stared at the sight that greeted her.
Neat curving flowerbeds displayed stunning yellows, oranges and even a few hints of purples and whites. Among the flowers and shrubs sat wire turtles and glass bunnies. A series of copper critters adorned the edges of an area filled with some type of orange lilies.
Drew reached the end of the drive and stopped in front of a stone and timber home. Farrin removed her foot from the brake and traveled the rest of the lane’s length. She stepped out and scanned the vibrant sugar maples extending in a line at the point where the land behind Drew’s home began to slope down toward the Holston River.
“It’s gorgeous here,” she said.
“You haven’t seen half of it yet. Come on. Time to race the sun.”
She followed as he led the way through an ornamental metal gate depicting fireflies. The walkways were smooth river rock, appropriate for the setting. Every turn revealed more flowerbeds with little signs identifying their contents, some with the familiar names like painted trillium and Indian pink that would bloom in the spring. Scattered throughout were white wooden benches, sundials and more whimsical wire sculptures celebrating nature.
“You could open this place for tours.”
“The Homemakers Club comes here on the garden tour, but that’s enough. It would lose the peacefulness if people were traipsing through all the time.”
They rounded another turn in the path. Farrin stopped and admired the awesome view. To her right sat a white, glass-enclosed greenhouse. A glance to the left revealed a gazebo with a table and padded wrap-around bench. Directly ahead sat a little shed flanked by silvery grass and what was probably a riot of colorful shrubs during the warmer seasons. On its little front porch sat two white Adirondack chairs. All of it overlooked the expanse of the Holston River and the flaming colors of the fall foliage on the opposite bank.
“Come on, let’s sit down and enjoy the view while we still can,” Drew said.
When she reached the shed, she sank into one of the chairs. “How do you ever pull yourself away from here?”
“Well, it takes a bit of money to keep all this up, so I have to venture to town to work.”
“If you’re such a good gardener, why do you practice law?”
“I like both, and being a lawyer pays more of the bills. Besides, I don’t want the gardening to ever seem like a job.”
She looked over to see him smiling at her. “It really is beautiful. How long did this take you?”
“Ever since I got back five years ago. And it’s never-ending.”
“But you enjoy it?”
“Yeah. I remember working in my grandparents’ garden and greenhouse and loving it. It’s a lot of work, but relaxing and freeing at the same time.”
That’s how she felt about sketching when she managed to push the thought of deadlines and financial obligations from her mind. “Well, you’ve done an amazing job.”
“Thanks. So, did Faye tell you to contact me about the gardens at the inn?”
“Actually, no. It was Janie Carlisle.”
“Yeah, word made it around the court square in record time that Janie was working for you. For once, I thought the gossip mill was wrong. So, how did that come about?”
“Her father decided to be a jerk and fire her because of something I said.”
“You complained about her?”
“No, how he treated her.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “You took up for Janie?”
Farrin stared at the river, wondering how to respond to the surprise in Drew’s question. Was he remembering their junior prom and how Janie had humiliated her in front of him and everyone within hearing distance? Even now, anger rushed through her at the memory of Janie’s words.
“Yes, as amazing as it must seem.” She leaned over and lifted the book she’d brought with her and extended it toward Drew. “There are lots of photos in here of what the gardens at the inn used to look like. I’d like to recreate them. I don’t know how long it will take to do all the inn restoration, get it on the National Register and find the right owners, but I’m thinking it will show best in the spring or early summer.”
“You’re going to keep it that long?”
“Maybe. Depends on how quickly everything comes together and if I’m offered a good purchase price before then. Janie is going to take care of things here since I’ll be going back to New York in a few days.”
Drew opened the book and flipped through the pages. “This shouldn’t be a problem. I can start tomorrow or the next day. I’ll do most of the work on the weekends though. Some of our citizens haven’t gotten the message that crime doesn’t pay.”
The sun dipped lower, making the shadows cast by the trees grow longer.
“It’s obvious that you have a knack for this, so you’re hired.” Farrin stood.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Farrin’s nerves jumped at the invitation. And it didn’t calm her any when she looked at Drew and saw what looked like more than friendly interest in his eyes.
Ignore it.
“Don’t tell me you cook too,” she said.
“Haven’t you heard necessity is the mother of invention?”
She laughed and was tempted to see just what his invention produced, but there would be nothing between the two of them and she didn’t want him thinking there would be. And he’d at least entertained the thought.
“Thanks, but I need to get back. I have sketches to fax to my office and need to start work on some more.”
“Who knew the world needed so many dresses?”
A memory of that long-ago prom dress flashed in her mind, and she swallowed against old pain.
“Feel free to start on the gardens whenever your schedule allows. Thanks for the tour.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime.” He sounded like he truly meant that.
She stepped off the tiny porch and headed back through the warren of pathways, glad Drew didn’t follow her. This was one of those moments when the past seemed like only yesterday and she desperately needed to be alone.
As she left Drew’s property and followed Riverview Road to the point it connected with Highway 7 that led to town, she successfully pushed out the memories by focusing on her plans for the inn and the work waiting for her in the guestroom at Faye’s. When she reached the stop sign at the end of Riverview, however, she didn’t make the turn. The past assaulted her as she sat in the encroaching dark.
****
Farrin, sixteen and daydreaming, slid her fingertips over the magazine pages, caressing the photograph as if she could feel the red and white satin. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in that dress, her long dark hair swept up following a luxurious afternoon at a salon with a French name. So what if the closest Oak Valley had was Dawn’s Cut and Curl? This was her fantasy, and she could populate it with whatever she liked.
And she liked the image of the new Farrin dancing with Drew Murphy. Sure, she’d had crushes on other boys — Eric Brenaman, Josh Overby, Kevin Miller — but none lasted. Her interest always returned to Drew.
She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly, she saw shooting bursts of white light. If she just wished hard eno
ugh, maybe the dress would materialize. Maybe Drew would be daring and notice her, ask her to the prom. Maybe—
Farrin jerked. Reality returned in the form of the macaroni and cheese boiling over. She turned down the heat under the pot and glanced at the clock. Her mother should be home any minute, and after feeding nearly four hundred students in the school cafeteria and then waiting tables at The City Cafe, the last thing Doris Taylor wanted to do was cook. The at-home cooking had fallen to Farrin when she was nine. And here she stood eight years and innumerable boxes of mac and cheese later, still not able to imagine hard enough to make her dreams come true.
One last look at the beautiful dress in the magazine sent a pang bumping into her heart. She hated feeling sorry for herself, but sometimes you ached for something so much you couldn’t stop. Just once, she’d like to know what it felt like to have boys think she was pretty, ask her to dance.
Farrin shook her head. Enough dreaming. She had work to do — finishing dinner, cleaning the kitchen, and then her pile of homework.
At the sound of gravel and the familiar rumble of her mother’s coughing car, Farrin set the table with the mac and cheese, bread, and pork chops her mother had found on sale because of their impending expiration date. But instead of her mother coming in and collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs as she normally did, Doris entered carrying a plastic bag.
“I have something for you,” she said as she held out the bag to Farrin.
“What is it?”
“Look inside.”
Both curious and nervous, Farrin took the bag and was glad it didn’t wiggle. Nothing alive, thank goodness. One never knew with her mother. She’d once brought home a baby opossum who’d evidently lost his mother. Binky had stayed with them until he was old enough to live on his own and then promptly gotten his cross-eyed self squashed on the highway. Her mother had wailed for half a day after finding him.
“Go on. It isn’t going to bite,” Doris said.
Farrin’s mind clicked through possibilities, but none matched the reality when she slipped the contents out of the bag to find a red satin dress with short, poofy, off-the-shoulder sleeves. Her heart drummed as she held it up and let the length unfurl.
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