She took in the sight of him, relieved he wasn’t a mirage. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”
Her eyes lingered on his lips, just for a moment, but she decided to postpone that, bringing him in for another hug. “Thank you,” she whispered into his neck, so choked up she could hardly get the words out. “For everything.” She stepped back and motioned to the room.
“It truly is my pleasure.”
Emma could tell that he meant it. She had to lighten the mood before she either burst into tears or kissed him thoroughly. “I knew it had to be you. Who else would dress a poor, defenseless gnome in yellow and purple?”
He took her hand, gazing silently into her eyes for a moment before leading her through the crowd to the front door. “I have something for you.” From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a ribbon long enough to be worn as a necklace that ended in a knot around a sliver of a brass key.
Reverently, she accepted the key, turning it over in her palm. “It matches exactly.”
“Any chance we could try it?”
It only took her a moment to realize he meant the stationary box. “Now?” Her heart hammered with anticipation.
“I don’t think anyone will miss us.”
She slipped the key around her neck to free up her hand, which she fit into Theo’s. Walking down a dirt road perhaps wasn’t the most elegant setting, but the mint scent rising from the field next to them was soothing.
“Brett said you offered him a job.” A hot, dry breeze played at the hem of her skirt.
“He mentioned that he and his wife had always talked about renovating a house of their own, and I was thinking of offering him the church to fix up how they want. Is that weird?”
There was her sweet, unsure Theo again. She squeezed his hand. “He would love that.”
“And would that be okay with you?”
“Me?” Why would he ask her that? Why wouldn’t it be? Why would she have any say? “Of course.” Theo’s generosity astounded her, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. “Imagine how relieved Oma was when she got word from both the hospital and the bank that all debts were paid, and with quite a bit of padding to take care of them.”
Theo seemed to be judging her reaction. As if she could be upset. She stopped and turned to face him. “I’m so relieved. We all are.” Her lips had suddenly gone dry, and she licked them quickly. “Thank you. From all of us.”
Theo fell silent for a moment. “Does that mean you’ll come back to Indigo with me, Emma?”
Was he really afraid she wouldn’t want to come back to him? After what she’d said about rich men, she could understand his uncertainty.
She took both of his hands in hers, threading their fingers together and taking a long moment to look deeply into his sparkling lake-blue eyes. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. “I knew it. You really need my expertise in the gardens, don’t you?”
Theo let out a surprised chuckle. “No. I mean, yes, but that’s not why I want you back. I want to take you on fancy dates and spend time with you under the stars. I want to take you to Europe so you can get inspiration for our landscaping, and then I want to come back and implement your designs. Whatever, whenever it is, I want to do it with you.”
She leaned in, brushing her lips against his. “That sounds amaz—”
Before allowing her to finish what she was saying, Theo’s lips were on hers again, soft and strong, full of hope and promise, whirling her away from Oregon, Louisiana, or anywhere else she could picture. It was just the two of them, absent of time or place, taking full advantage of being in each other’s arms again.
After several long kisses, Emma stepped back. “I thought we had a box to find.” She lifted the key and waved it as a reminder.
Theo, however, didn’t seem to be watching it. His eyes hadn’t left her face, and his expression said he hadn’t wanted to step away from the kiss either. “Did I mention that after you finish the landscaping at Indigo Pointe, I have a few other homes you could take a look at? They might need makeovers as well.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, seeming to think about it. “I’ll do the designs, but we’re hiring someone to do the labor.”
He screwed up his lips, his turn in the negotiation to consider. “I’ll have to check with my accountant, but I think we could make that work.”
She grabbed his hand again and turned, tugging him toward the house. “Come on. I want to see if there’s a place for this key.”
In the end, instead of turning the key themselves, Emma and Theo decided it was Opa’s to try. They made the trip back to the party, box in hand, eager to see if anything would come of it.
“Opa, Oma.” Emma found them at the head table, talking with Emma’s parents and aunt and uncle. She set the box on the table in front of her grandparents. “This is Theo Lambert,” she introduced quickly, skimming over the ritual, “and he found something that just might have solved our mystery.”
Opa’s green-and-brown hazel eyes, so like her own, sparkled in anticipation. “Yes?”
Emma took the key from her neck and handed it to him. “See how it has the same design as ours?”
Opa tried to look at it, but gave up after a couple of seconds. “I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckled. “My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
Emma’s dad reached over and took it from him, briefly running a thumb over the ivy design. “A perfect match.” He handed it back to his father. “Try it.”
After thoroughly examining the box with its compartments and hinges, none of them could figure out where the key would go.
“But there isn’t a place for it.” Oma voiced the disappointment they all felt.
“What if you inserted it in the regular keyhole?” Emma suggested. While their slightly larger key worked the lock to the hinged doors on the box, Emma supposed it was possible this thinner key would turn a tumbler behind the first.
With shaky hands, Opa inserted the tiny key. With a half twist, a click sounded and a hidden drawer popped free at the base. Sliding the drawer open, Opa pulled out a single sheet of yellowed parchment and handed it to Emma. “Read it for us?”
With a nervous laugh, Emma accepted the paper. “Of course you’d want me to read it,” she grumbled under her breath. The handwriting, however, was thankfully perfectly legible.
Our dearest Ivy—
Only Divine Intervention could have placed you in our lives at the time we needed each other the most. In the midst of tragedy, one amazing miracle occurred. You were that miracle.
On March 26, 1865, while you attended worship services with your family and the plantation staff, a fire overtook the church building. Seeing the smoke, we, your neighbors, rushed to put out the fire. While we were able to stop the outside of the building from burning completely, the inside was so engulfed, it was impossible to save anyone. Thankfully, many souls were able to escape the ravages of the flames, yet providence didn’t shine on all in the building, and sadly some perished.
In the chaos of those trying to fight the fire, you, a small child of three, were found scratched and bleeding in the rose bushes, having been tossed out the window by, we can only assume, well-meaning parents in an attempt to save your young life. One of the kitchen help discovered you, recognized your sobbing through the tumult of the fire, and brought you to us for safekeeping.
While it is true we saved your life that day, you saved ours as well. Our hearts ached for your tremendous loss, that of your parents and siblings—everyone you loved in your short life. We tended the burns on your skin and the scorching pain in your heart.
You, in turn, gave us the opportunity to be parents when our arms ached for a baby of our own. The plan was to do our Christian duty and care for you, the offspring of our estranged neighbor, until your closest kin would come and accept not only the responsibility of Indigo Pointe but your care as well. What we didn’t realize was that we would fall in love with you as the daughter we had longed for.
A
fter an extended absence, your distant cousin, Mr. Treager, and his family arrived at Indigo Pointe. By that time, you had been living in our household for six years. In that time you had become a daughter, a big sister (finally!), and in every way but name, a Lambert, but that was not to be your future.
Knowing Mr. Treager was coming to claim you and Indigo Pointe, as was his right and responsibility, we have decided to leave reminders of our love for you where you will see them every day—symbols that remind us as well of our precious Ivy who will always be in our hearts. So when you see the ivy motifs on this box and around your home at Indigo Pointe, know that even though we cannot be physically with you, our love always will be.
It is with heavy hearts that we return the true treasure of Indigo Pointe—you, our dear, sweet Ivy. We hope and pray that the Treager family will care for you and love you as we have done. We will always watch over you, our dear Ivy, and you will always be in our hearts.
Mr. & Mrs. Giles Lambert
When Emma finished reading, she looked about the table, gauging reactions. Theo looked calm but pensive. Her parents shushed Brett’s daughter, Talia, on Emma’s mom’s lap. She focused on Opa last of all.
“Ivy, my grandmother, was the Treager treasure?” Opa’s shock was representative of the group. “That wasn’t what I was expecting. How about you, Mr. Lambert? Did your family know?” He looked to Theo for an answer.
Theo shook his head and let out a quick cough of a laugh. “If we’re being honest here, no, this is what I’d been raised to expect either.” He seemed to be considering his words carefully. “I wish I knew how our families got the story so confused. Perhaps the Lamberts thought Indigo Pointe should have been theirs because they’d run the plantation between the time of the fire and the coming of Mr. Treager, but the treasure being a person?” He paused. “No. I had no idea, and I don’t think my father did, either.”
Opa nodded, accepting the explanation. A few quiet minutes, and Opa’s eyes misted. “I remember Ivy. I was young, of course, but my mother spoke kindly of her as well. Ivy was always so loving to everyone around her—especially the Lamberts—and now we know why.” His look at Theo was one of gratitude, not the contempt Emma had seen when he’d talked about the Lambert family before. Opa stopped. “But wait. How was Ivy a Treager? I thought it was through marriage.”
True. Ivy had been the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Heidel, who’d died in the church fire that day.
“I can shed some light on that,” Theo offered. “I found an entry in my great-great-grandfather’s journal the other night, something I thought was a bit strange for him to record. It was an account of one Miss Ivette Heidel, aged seventeen, being married to her cousin, the son of Mr. Arthur Treager, the distant relative who had taken over Indigo Pointe after the fire. My relative never explained the fire, mentioning it as if anyone reading would already know the circumstances. What he did say was that the son, who married his parents’ young charge, had been away at school in Massachusetts all that time and had never even met Ivette until not long before their union. It would seem he was a bit older than Ivy?” This was a question he directed at Opa, who nodded.
Theo continued, “It sounds like it was all on the up and up. The Lamberts took seriously their self-proclaimed mission to watch over Ivy even after she’d gone to live with the Treagers, though I didn’t understand the context before this letter.”
Emma handed the letter to Opa, who clutched it to his chest. “You solved the mystery.” His relief and joy were evident. He took in both Emma and Theo with a thankful gaze. “I knew there was something special about this box, but I had no idea it had come from the Lamberts. And contained the … treasure map.”
“So really both families did want the same thing after all—the happiness and well-being of Ivy.” Emma sighed, content with the news that the Lamberts hadn’t been after the plantation, hadn’t caused the fire, and had done everything and more that good neighbors would do.
Opa stood, hand outstretched to Theo. “Will you forgive me?”
“Absolutely, sir.” Theo squirmed in the center of everyone’s attention. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Thank you for rescuing Indigo Pointe,” Opa said, his eyes on Theo while he patted Emma’s arm. “All I ask is that you take good care of her.”
Emma was fairly certain Opa meant the plantation and his granddaughter.
Chapter 26
Emma and Theo walked the grounds of the Indigo Pointe Plantation for the first time since coming back to Louisiana. Emma allowed Theo to lead her through the arbor, knowing he wanted to check on his favorite roses; she’d been curious to see them herself. Emma was relieved to see they’d flourished in their absence. “Looks like they survived, even with my meddling,” she teased him, remembering all too well how reticent he’d been when he first saw her touching them.
“I’m glad you meddled.” Using his pocketknife, Theo cut one of the champagne roses, the head full and fragrant, and handed it to her. “A rose for my beauty.”
He took her hand again, and she followed him toward her garçonnière. Twilight had set in, and while the fireflies were disappointingly absent, the background symphony of katydids, crickets, and an occasional frog serenaded them home.
Jet lag tugged at Emma’s eyes so much that she almost didn’t recognize the lump on the front step as a new gnome. “Do you know what I know about gardens in Europe?”
“What?” Theo’s voice was husky in the darkness.
“Not one single gnome.”
Theo smiled and raised their clasped hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, but her eyes were on the gnome, trying to determine its shape. A glint of light sparkled. Something shiny was in the large sunflower the gnome held over his head.
“A ring?” Emma reached forward to pick it up, a large-carat cushion-cut diamond sparkled in a vintage setting. It was gorgeous.
“And a gem for my Treager treasure,” he said.
Emma turned to find Theo on one knee.
“Emma Treager, would you do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband, so we can cultivate gardens wherever we go?”
Unable to trust herself to speak without choking up, Emma nodded.
With their eyes seeing nothing but each other, Theo gently removed the ring from Emma’s fingertips and slipped it halfway onto her finger. “So no objections to becoming a Lambert?” he teased.
She giggled. “I am the one who would be honored.”
“I love you, Emma.” He trailed kisses from her ear to her lips, the warmth of his breath rushing over her. “All of my love for all of my life.”
THE END
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About the Author
When Maria Hoagland is not working at her computer, she can be found combing used-furniture stores, remodeling houses with her husband, or sitting on the sideline of a son’s soccer game. She loves crunching leaves in the fall, stealing cookie dough from the mixing bowl, and lis
tening to musicals on her iPod.
While she appreciates the home office she shares with her husband, Maria’s favorite writing places are outdoors where there is sunlight and no internet. She and her husband and their children have lived in Idaho, Missouri, Ohio, Utah, and in six Texas cities.
Maria Hoagland has several published works including two Whitney Award finalists, The {Re}Model Marriage and Still Time, as well as other works, including Kayaks & Kisses, Home for the Holidays, Nourish & Strengthen, and Family Size.
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Excerpt from Sweet Water by Laurie Lewis
Forty-three text messages and countless emails were waiting for Hudson when he awoke in his hotel suite. He handled what he could from his phone, but he was both relieved and disheartened when the computer and phone he ordered for Olivia arrived by courier. She would now have the last things she needed. It was time for him to step back from her life and return to his.
He jumped in his SUV and headed for the beach house. It would be a quick visit, a chance to say goodbye before he returned to work. He knew he was fooling himself into thinking he could walk away easily and unaffected. But he had done what he could. The rest would be up to her. And the future? That would be up to her as well.
Laurel answered his knock and seemed startled by his arrival. “Oh! You’re here!” She glanced back at Olivia, who Hudson could see was at the table, up to her eyebrows in a bowl of some concoction. Spread before her were spices and sugars. “We’re, uh … just finishing up something before taking the beach chair for a test ride.”
“Yes. Thank you so much for the chair, Hudson. It’s … it’s incredibly thoughtful,” she rambled, as she blew an errant strand of hair from her eyes because her good arm and fingers were busily engaged in an attempt to hide the containers. When the hair refused to comply, her face scrunched, and she committed two reddened fingers to the task of taming it, all the while continuing the conversation. “We’ve been charging the battery for a few hours now.” She placed a tea towel over the mess and wheeled herself away from the table and toward Hudson.
Beauty and the Billionaire Beast Page 14