As Love Blooms

by Lorna Seilstad

  Charlotte touched her arm. “What is it?”

  Tessa’s heart ached. She opened her eyes and looked at her father’s face. “When Daddy died, I lost another tree. He was solid and true. I could count on him for everything.”

  “And now with Reese?”

  “The axe has fallen yet again.” Tessa sighed.

  “Oh, Tess.” Charlotte wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You still have us.”

  “After you hear my story, you may want to renege on that offer.”

  “What story?” Hannah, wearing a loose-fitting housedress, breezed into the room. She stopped and looked at Charlotte. “Wait. Where are my manners? It’s so good to see you—both. Mrs. Umdahl says she has coffee and cinnamon rolls set out for us in the dining room. Shall we talk in there?”

  Once they were seated, Tessa peeled a piece of cinnamon roll from the spiral. With her thoughts so far away, she hardly noticed the sugar and butter melting on her tongue. Her sisters would never see her as an adult after they heard this story. Everything in her wanted to let Charlotte and Hannah continue with their small talk, but she had to protect the baby.

  Where did she begin?

  Charlotte took care of bringing Hannah up-to-date on Reese. She explained how he’d taken credit for Tessa’s work, and how he’d ruined their plans to tell Mr. Nussbaumer about her skills.

  “Tessa, I’m so sorry.” Hannah reached across the table and squeezed Tessa’s hand. “But you can return to college in the fall, and once you have your degree, you can create gardens everywhere.”

  “I can’t go back.”

  “Honey . . .” Charlotte took a sip of coffee. “I know you don’t feel like you can live without him right now, but it will get easier once you’re away at school.”

  Tessa squared her shoulders. “I don’t mean I’m not capable of going back. I mean I’m not allowed.”

  34

  Tessa sent up a silent prayer, asking God to open up the floor and let it swallow her whole.

  Hannah and Charlotte stared at her.

  “What did you say?” Hannah set down her cup so fast the coffee splashed over the rim.

  “Please, stay calm—for you and for the baby.” Tessa slanted a glance at Charlotte. At least mentioning the baby didn’t seem to upset her other sister. “I am not welcome to return to the university.”

  “Why? What did you do?” Hannah mopped up the spill with a napkin.

  “Calm, Hannah. Calm.”

  “Don’t tell me to be calm. You just told me you’ve been expelled.”

  Tessa stood. If she pretended to be an opposing attorney in a courtroom, maybe it would be easier to face Hannah.

  No. No more playacting. It was time to grow up.

  She placed her hands on the back of the dining room chair. “I broke the curfew for the girls’ dormitory.”

  Charlotte’s brow scrunched. “And they expelled you?”

  “It might have had something to do with the way I got out of the dorm room.”

  Ever the attorney, Hannah shoved her coffee cup to the side and leaned back in her chair, ready to cross-examine every detail. “And how exactly did you get out of the dorm?”

  “I crawled out the window and shimmied down a tree.” She shrugged. “I guess all those years of climbing trees came in handy. The dean thought that was most unladylike.”

  “Imagine that.” Hannah sighed. “I almost hate to ask this, but why were you climbing out the window?”

  Tessa began to pace in front of the window. The more she thought about the whole affair, the more the embers of anger began to flame.

  “Tessa?”

  She faced her sisters, jaw set, back straight. “Every week, the horticulture department had a seminar on Monday nights. They talked about all sorts of important things, or at least that’s what I’d been told by my classmates—my male classmates.”

  “You’d never gone yourself?” Charlotte asked.

  “I couldn’t. The meeting began at eight, which is the curfew in the ladies’ dormitory. The men didn’t have to be in until nine thirty.” Her chest burned. Why did they have a curfew an hour and a half later, anyway?

  “So you had to sneak out in order to go to a meeting?” Charlotte tore off another piece of her cinnamon roll. “Why didn’t you simply explain the situation to the department chair?”

  “I did.” Irritation filled her voice. Calm down. Be reasonable. Act mature. You don’t want Hannah and Charlotte to think you were childish.

  She slowed down, choosing her words carefully. “I even made a petition and collected signatures from all of the women in the horticultural program, but Dean Shipley seemed especially annoyed by that. He told me I should let things remain as they were and not stir up trouble.” She clenched her fists. “But it wasn’t fair. I waited and waited, but when they were going to talk about aquatic gardens, I had to go. And they were going to address the Esopus Spitzenburg too.”

  “The what?”

  “The Spitzenburg is an antique apple. Thomas Jefferson’s favorite variety. It has a spicy flavor and it’s susceptible to all kinds of disease.” She licked her lips. “And it was delicious. I found out they had a fruit tasting at every meeting. Can’t you see all the important things I’d been missing?”

  She sank down into the chair. “I know it was irresponsible and you both probably have a hundred things you want to tell me, but I doubt that you’ll say anything I haven’t already said to myself. I thought if I could get a position at Como Park, then I’d have a perfect reason for not returning for the fall term, and neither of you would have had to learn about this whole ugly thing.” Tears filled her eyes again.

  Hannah walked behind Tessa’s chair and placed her hands on her shoulders. “I can’t speak for Charlotte, but I understand why you did what you did.”

  “You do?”

  “I do too.” Charlotte laid her hand on Tessa’s arm. “It was unfair to make this seminar unavailable to the female students.”

  “But”—Hannah gave her shoulders a firm squeeze—“you should have told us right away so we could help. I’ll draft a letter to the university in the morning, and if that doesn’t change the dean’s mind, Lincoln and I will be paying him a visit. Let’s see him match wits with two attorneys.”

  “And Tessa, the worst part is you carried this burden alone.” Charlotte passed Tessa a clean handkerchief. “Yes, it might have been hard to tell us in the beginning, but keeping it hidden only made it more painful for you.” She turned to Hannah. “Didn’t it?”

  Hannah’s eyes became glassy. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby, Charlotte. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I hurt you more by keeping it a secret.”

  “You hurt yourself the most.” Charlotte gently squeezed Hannah’s arm. “Joel said he thinks the stress of keeping this truth hidden has affected you more than you realize.”

  Hannah laid a hand on her abdomen. “It isn’t fair. You should be in the family way before me.”

  “I did feel that way—for about five minutes.” Charlotte smiled and refilled her coffee cup. “I’m thrilled for you, Hannah. I don’t know why God hasn’t blessed me with a baby yet, but I’ve been asking him to help me understand this pain and walk with me through it.”

  “I wish I could fix the whole situation.” Hannah swiped a finger under her eye.

  “You mean fix me?” Charlotte held her coffee cup with both hands as if to warm herself. “If it were medically possible, I think Joel would have told me that, but it isn’t. After what happened, I’ve had a lot of time to think.”

  She set down her coffee cup and walked around the table to join her sisters. She took Hannah’s hands. “I’m not saying this is easy. I don’t know what God intends for Joel and me through all of this. Maybe it’s so I’ll draw closer to him, or maybe he has other designs for our family. I do know he’s not forgotten me. No matter what God’s planned for me, Hannah, baby or no baby, I will rejoice in what he’s planned for you.” />
  They hugged for a long time, then opened up their circle and drew Tessa into their embrace. The ache in her heart eased, and her crushing burden lifted.

  The Gregory sisters—rooted in love, grounded by faith, and watching their dreams grow and flower around them . . . together.

  How could she have doubted her sisters’ love for her or for each other?

  Two days. Two miserable days without the woman he loved.

  Sitting in the garden Reese had planted with Tessa brought him no comfort. Tessa was everywhere—in the shrubs she’d chosen for height and texture, in the flowers she’d claimed had their own countenance, and in the whimsical extras that she’d promised would surprise visitors.

  Reese propped his elbows on his knees and pressed his brow into the heel of his hand. Lack of sleep had left his energy drained, but it was the empty hole in his heart that sucked the life from him.

  Remorse, regret, and anger tangled inside him, making a crater in his stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. Poor Mrs. Baxter was beside herself with worry. She wanted to know what was wrong with him, but how could he tell her he was a coward and he’d betrayed Tessa?

  “Hello, son.” His father sat down on the bench beside him. “I thought I’d find you here.”

  Reese sat up. “You were looking for me? It’s not lunchtime yet. I thought you and Mother were going to go to Minnehaha Falls this morning.”

  “She’s going with your Tessa’s aunt. I believe she said her name was Samantha Phillips.”

  “Mrs. Phillips? When did you speak to her?”

  “Yesterday. Your mother insisted we go over and talk to Tessa to see if we were the cause of the sudden rift between the two of you.”

  “Was Tessa all right?”

  “She wasn’t there. Mrs. Phillips said she was at her sister’s home.” He took a deep breath. “She also said Tessa was deeply wounded, but that most wounds can heal.”

  Reese rubbed his thumb over the raised zigzag on his left index finger. “And leave a nasty scar.”

  “Some do.” His father stood and walked around the sundial. “This is truly a beautiful place, Reese. As I told you before, it shows a great deal of vision.”

  “Go ahead and say it, Dad. You know it isn’t my design. Remember, you already told me I lack creativity.”

  “What?”

  “Dad, don’t pretend. We both know the truth.” Reese pushed up his shirtsleeves. “I’m a hard worker, but I don’t have what it takes to be a gifted garden designer.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “More or less.”

  His father leaned against one of the brick pillars. “Apparently I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t. Didn’t you hear me? Tessa did all this. You can see her touch all over the garden. I know you can.”

  “You’re right.” His father moved to the clair-voie and placed his hand on the metal spindle. “I could tell, and before you panic, your secret is safe. I didn’t say anything to Fred Nussbaumer. But son, hers is not the only hand I see at work in this garden.”

  Reese cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “I see you here too.” He swept his arm toward the pillars. “You made those. I can tell by the strong, bold lines and solid structure. Those will be standing long after the last bloom fades. Maybe you can’t see it, but you bring a richness here, where Tessa brought the element of joy.” His father looked at him and chuckled. “You look surprised. Didn’t you think I could tell you selected the shrubs, knowing what would tolerate Minnesota’s cold winter? And you’re one of the only gardeners I know who could make everything look established after only a few weeks. You are truly gifted in husbandry.”

  Reese stared at his father, unsure of what to say. He’d heard more words of praise in that minute than he had in his lifetime. Had his father actually used the word gifted?

  His father again joined him on the bench. “Reese, I’m not sure what I said to you that day long ago, but I can tell that you remember it word for word. I can also see you are a skilled gardener. You and Tessa make a brilliant team.”

  “I have to tell Mr. Nussbaumer the truth about Tessa’s help in all this.”

  “It isn’t going to change his mind.” He squeezed Reese’s shoulder. “I’ve known Fred for a long time, and he isn’t going to hire a woman, so don’t be the hero. You’ll be putting that new position you earned on the line for nothing.”

  Reese pushed to his feet. “No, Dad. It will be for something. It will let me sleep at night, and it will let me look Tessa in the eyes and promise her I’ll live the rest of my life trying never to let her down again.”

  His father stood and studied him for a second. Reese lowered his gaze. He couldn’t bear to once again see the disappointment in his father’s eyes. Then, before he knew what was happening, his father pulled him into a hug.

  “I’m proud of you, son.”

  Reese had waited his whole life to hear those words, but they could barely penetrate the hedge of guilt around his heart.

  Lord, please forgive me.

  The stubborn weed refused to budge. Tessa wrapped both hands around it and gave it a firm yank. She was rewarded with the sound of a snap as the roots let loose.

  She sat back on her knees and tipped her face to the sun. Pulling weeds was exactly what she needed right now. If only it were as easy to rip out her thoughts of Reese.

  After slipping out of the house earlier, Tessa had made her way to Aunt Sam’s garden. She’d neglected it terribly. At the rate Hannah and Charlotte were going when she left, Tessa imagined they’d still be giggling and talking when the moon came out. Thank goodness the children were taking Sunday afternoon naps.

  While she loved her sisters, Tessa didn’t feel up to laughing with them right now. Sure, she was glad it seemed the tension between them had evaporated and her conscience was now clear, but the pieces of her heart still felt scattered like dandelion fluff in the wind.

  She plucked a fluffy dandelion from the ground. Once, when she was a little girl, she had sat on the porch steps with her mother holding a similar dandelion in her hand. She’d had a bad day, with her sister constantly telling her what to do, so her mother told her to make a wish and blow the dandelion seeds in the air.

  Tessa smiled at the memory.

  She’d wished to be an only child.

  But now that she was an adult, she knew the truth. Blowing dandelion fluff only made more dandelions. Wherever seeds fell, they grew.

  An awooga horn of a Model T startled her. She whipped her gaze toward the street. Reese?

  No, the driver was honking at a motorcycle. Now that she’d ridden a motorcycle, she seemed to see them everywhere.

  What if it had been Reese? Her blood ran fast at the thought. A part of her wanted to see him, but another part burned at the idea. She jerked another weed from the soil. He’d used her and he’d lied to her. After all his talk about Tessa’s acting, he was the one who’d put on the best show of all.

  A clanging sound in the corner of the garden made her look up. It sounded as if the gate was closing, but no one was there. Perhaps the neighbor’s kitten was out prowling again, or maybe it was Edward wanting his information.

  She jumped at the sound of footsteps behind her. Turning, she spotted Aunt Sam approaching.

  “Hello, dear.” She sat down on a nearby bench. “I thought you might need some company. Is there a reason you’re pulling those weeds like they’re the enemy?”

  “I’m pretending they’re pieces of Reese’s hair.” Tessa giggled. “Not really.”

  “I’m sure you’re angry with him.”

  “Do you and the senator ever argue?”

  “Yes,” Aunt Sam said softly. “We did.”

  Tessa sat back. “Is something wrong between the two of you?”

  “We had a long talk again about suffrage.” Dark circles rimmed Aunt Sam’s eyes, and the wrinkles on her brow appeared deeper. She seemed to have aged overnight.
But was it overnight? How long had this been going on? Had Tessa been so wrapped up in her own troubles that she’d missed Aunt Sam’s?

  “What happened?”

  “When the vote came up the other day in the legislature, he voted against it—again.” Her voice broke. “He’ll never change his mind, but worse, he still wants to change mine. So I told him we would have to go back to simply being friends.”

  “You don’t think you could work around this? Agree to disagree?”

  “He enjoys my company and I enjoy his, but he doesn’t truly understand me. Not really.” The breeze blew a strand of gray hair free from her bun, and she patted it back in place. “I wouldn’t be true to myself if I traded what I believe for love. I’d be living a lie.”

  “Oh, Aunt Sam, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.” Aunt Sam forced a smile. “But I’ve spent too many years fighting for this cause to marry a man who won’t be celebrating with me when the day we can vote finally arrives. I can’t be with a man who doesn’t support my dream.”

  “I know exactly how you feel.”

  “No, dear, you don’t.”

  Tessa quirked her head to the side. “But Reese—”

  “Made a mistake. A grave one. I believe you too have made a few.”

  “Did Hannah call you?”

  Aunt Sam nodded. “You should have told me. I would have understood better than anyone.”

  Tessa’s eyes burned with tears. “I know.”

  “And you should have told Reese.”

  “I know.”

  “Tessa, I don’t believe for a minute that he doesn’t support your dream. He risked a great deal in even allowing you to work alongside him.”

  “I’m so confused. I thought Reese was solid and honest and strong.”

  “You’re a gardener.” Aunt Sam stood. “Take a look at the seeds Reese has sowed in his life. That will tell you what kind of man he really is.” She reached down and cupped Tessa’s cheek. “While you’re at it, you might think a bit about where your hope has been rooted—or rather, in whom.”