Hope's Garden

by Lyn Cote

  Acknowledging another direct hit, Cat fidgeted in her seat. Every Sunday, she felt as though she brought a charge card with accumulated debts to church. Here, she opened her heart and asked God to cancel each outstanding charge on her spiritual account. Then she could face each Monday, fresh and clean, prepared to meet the week’s challenges.

  Now, looking at the back of Farrell’s dark head, she owned up. Her charge account was fuller than usual. She’d been irritated with him for two weeks. Jealous of her domain—which Farrell legally owned forty-nine percent of. Had she expected to take on a partner and have nothing change at all? She grimly confessed her error again, but this time promised to improve. Sorry, Lord, I’ve been the pain in Farrell’s neck. She’d have to change her attitude and her ways big-time this week.

  Her conscience pressed on, what about the Crenshaws?

  Ouch. Cat squirmed uncomfortably on the pew. She’d been judgmental, territorial and short-tempered for two weeks. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently for forgiveness.

  When she opened her eyes, she was able to concentrate on the rest of the sermon. At the end, she stood with the rest of the congregation to sing the closing hymn, “Trust and Obey.” The line, “Never fear. Only trust and obey,” heartened Cat. She promised silently, I’ll do better this week, Lord. With your help.

  Outside church as usual, people lingered greeting each other, exchanging hugs and watching the children play tag. Cat embraced Aunt Bet. Then while Aunt Bet chatted with two other women from her quilting group, Cat turned to Farrell who stood beside her. She was very aware that many eyes were glued on Gage Farrell.

  Usually that phrase tickled her funny bone as she imagined cartoon eyes popping out and sticking to someone. But did all the attention make Farrell feel out of place? He stood a little apart. Did he think the glances directed at him were impolite? The truth was, scar or no scar, he was too new and too striking to be overlooked. Conscious that people were watching, she tried to appear as though they were talking business. Well, it’s the truth! “You’re going to the Crenshaws this afternoon?”

  Looking surprised, he nodded.

  “Then you’d better pick me up,” she said bravely. “I live right on the way to Paradise Hills.”

  “Sure,” he replied. But he stared at her as though trying to read her mind.

  Cat took a deep breath and plunged on, “I was wrong. You’re right. I’ve given you a hard time about the Crenshaws, and I shouldn’t have. It’s just business. I shouldn’t let my personal bias enter into it.”

  Gage stared at her. “Well…great.” Dressed in a simple, blue cotton dress and with her abundant sun-bleached hair worn loose, Cat affected him differently than she did at work where she wore jeans, a green garden smock, a matching billed cap and a ponytail. The Sunday-go-to-meeting Cat was more of a kitten.

  By the end of their first week, he had decided his partner was going to remain a thorn in his side. That’s what made her turnabout now catch him unprepared. What had changed her mind? He didn’t have a clue. But he couldn’t doubt her motives. Cat Simmons couldn’t hide her feelings or opinions. This pleased him while making him uneasy at the same time. A woman like this would expect…demand complete frankness in return. He had concealed his hidden sorrow and uncertainty for so long. Would he be up to this challenge?

  He nodded. “Okay. I’ll pick you up around one-thirty.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” He wondered if this new attitude would extend to his laptop. And she’d been touchy with the Crenshaws before. Just how frank would she be with them today? He’d have to be on his toes every minute.

  Chapter Four

  Puffy white picture-book clouds drifted overhead against the delft blue sky. The warm breeze from the open window blew into Gage’s face. When he saw the roadside mailbox, he turned off the county road to Cat’s place. The black mailbox looked ancient and battered with Simmons nearly worn off. It didn’t look like a mailbox Cat would own. Ahead, miniature spring-green leaves fluttered over mature maples and oaks. With trunks at least three feet in diameter, these aged giants hovered around the plain white, two-story farmhouse. Again, the house didn’t jibe with Gage’s preconception of where Cat would live.

  The weathered wood siding was chipped and flaking, the front porch listed to the right while its steps listed to the left. Unkempt lilac bushes, shoulder-high, festooned around the foundation and clematis vines engulfed the screen porch railings up to the sagging, sad-looking gutters. In contrast, every aspect of Hope’s Garden was clean, neat and well-kept, just like Cat herself. What explained her living in this broken-down old farmhouse?

  Then he noticed that the steps were painted a glossy dark green. Along one side of the steps, large clay pots of bright-pink geraniums adorned each ascending step. The screened-in porch had brand-new screening and held an arrangement of freshly painted white vintage wicker. Bright floral cushions on the furniture caught his eye. Now those touches looked like Cat’s work.

  As he drove up to the half-circle drive in front, Cat stepped from inside onto the porch, then down the wooden steps. He was surprised to see Cat still wore the blue cotton dress she’d worn to church. A flowing skirt gave her a new disconcerting appeal. He got out and opened the passenger side door for her. “Cat.”

  “Farrell.” She gave him a restrained smile and slipped by him onto the front seat.

  The wind lifted a few strands of her long hair lightly against his face. He detected the fragrance of some mixture of herbs and blossoms. Cat in a skirt smelling sweetly also didn’t fit the conclusion he’d already decided about his partner. He’d put her down as one of those no-nonsense, independent women who dispensed with frills and femininity. Obviously, Cat Simmons was more than met the eye.

  He got in and drove back down the gravel lane to the county road. “These trees look really old.”

  “My great-grandfather planted them.”

  “So this is where your family has lived for four generations?”

  “Yes.” She shifted in her seat. “Unfortunately or fortunately—” she waved her hand back toward the house “—my father was much more interested in the business than in modernizing our family’s home.”

  He heard the embarrassment in her tone and it touched him. “Maintaining an older home can be quite expensive and time-consuming.”

  “Yes, and I hate that it’s really been left too long. Sometime in the future, I plan to build a new house. I’d like a ranch along the river.”

  “A ranch?” he teased. “Do you mean a one-story house or a house with stable, horses and cowboys?”

  She flushed pink.

  Why was she blushing? Had he touched a nerve without intending to? He glanced at Cat from the corner of his eye. Her thick, sun-streaked hair fell into natural waves to her shoulders. Golden freckles dusted her upturned nose. No lipstick enhanced her naturally pink lips. The urge to touch her soft, downy cheek with the back of his hand nearly caused him to reach out. He reigned in his reactions. Business. Keep your mind on business, he told himself.

  “Paradise Hills is just around this bend.” She pointed ahead to the right.

  He nodded as he drove into the entrance of the upscale subdivision. Uneasiness trickled through him. This morning after church, Cat had thrown him a curve ball, then a good Sunday dinner at Aunt Bet’s with Laurette and Chuck and a lovely spring day had lulled him into a false sense of security. Now he’d been picking up confusing clues from Cat. This appointment was business, but he didn’t know what to expect. Cat’s last meeting with the Crenshaws hadn’t gone easily. Would today go any better?

  He shook his head. Evidently even life in Eden presented challenges. Glancing at the address on the card beside him on the seat, he drove to Sam and Dex’s white Georgian with columns. He parked in front of their three-car garage. Cat got out without assistance and met him at the back of the vehicle. Suddenly the disparity between Cat’s home and this brand-new megahouse registered in Gage’s mind. Was this one rea
son for longtime residents like Cat to feel ill at ease with the newcomers?

  Wearing a white Greenpeace T-shirt and cutoffs, Samantha stood in the open doorway. “You’re right on time!”

  Cat waved, but said nothing as she walked forward, obviously scanning the acre lot around the house.

  Samantha called over her shoulder, “Come on, Dex! They’re here!”

  Smiling, Gage hurried up the few steps. He shook the hand Dex offered him, greeting them both warmly.

  All the while, Cat mounted the steps looking around, expending no effort to make contact with the Crenshaws.

  “Hey, partner,” Gage bantered to cover her aloofness. “What do you usually do first on a home visit?”

  She turned to him and nodded at the couple. “Let’s walk the land.” She dropped her leather purse to the steps, bent and took out a small brown cloth pouch and clipboard. She motioned for them to follow her. Gage waved Samantha and Dex ahead. They caught up with Cat easily.

  Cat began, “You need to buy a lawn fertilizer and herbicide system and apply it.”

  “Fertilizer?” Dex objected, “I thought the soil here would be especially rich.”

  “It is, but they stripped off your topsoil—”

  “They what!” Sam sounded shocked.

  Cat shrugged. “Sometimes when a farm is sold for residential use, the developer strips the topsoil and sells it. Topsoil is too costly to waste on grass.”

  This blunt statement of fact wouldn’t put the Crenshaws in a positive mood and a positive customer was much more likely to spend money. Gage tried to think how to stem this topic, but short of clamping his hand over Cat’s mouth, he couldn’t.

  Dex scowled. “That really burns me.”

  Cat motioned toward the hilly pastureland where Black Angus and white-faced Herefords grazed just behind Paradise Hills. “Look at it this way. Farmers were angry when this land was subdivided. To them, houses on prime acres is just a waste.”

  “We didn’t think about that,” Samantha said in a subdued voice. “We would never do anything ecologically harmful.”

  Gage groaned inside. Oh, great. How to make the customer feel lousy. “People have a right to a place to live.” He made his tone humorous and tried to catch his partner’s eye. “Your family, Cat, has lived here for four generations.”

  “Oh!” Cat looked startled. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you weren’t welcome here.”

  “Four generations!” Sam squealed. “You’re a real Iowan, then.”

  “Yes,” Gage continued smoothly, “you’ve heard of the Hadley House—”

  “You mean the one here in town that was just added to the National Register of Historic Homes?” Sam asked.

  “That’s the one. Cat’s cousin was telling me that their great-grandmother was a Hadley.”

  Cat grinned ruefully. “Yes, Catherine Hadley disgraced the family by marrying my great-grandfather Joshua Simmons in 1900. The Hadleys were bankers and thought themselves better.”

  Sam looked impressed. “Wow! How cool. Dex and I didn’t know what Iowa would be like. We almost didn’t take the jobs here. But we love living in this beautiful unpolluted environment. No smog. No traffic. I can hardly wait to sample the fresh vegetables—especially some great Iowa potatoes!”

  Cat’s mouth dropped open.

  Gage spoke up to prevent Cat from saying something less than polite, “Iowa farmers grow some potatoes, but Iowa is really known for its corn, hogs and beef.”

  Nodding, Cat closed her mouth.

  “Really?” Sam looked unconvinced.

  “Sam,” Dex added, “Idaho grows potatoes.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” Sam laughed at herself. “I always get Iowa, Idaho, and Ohio mixed up!”

  Gage knew both Sam and Dex were software engineers. He began to wonder if Samantha was one of those people who were good at their jobs, but remained forever fuzzy on other topics.

  As though changing subjects, Cat strode onward with firm steps. “Now the first thing we need is to take some soil samples. I’m pretty sure what your soil needs, but it’s always good to make sure.” She knelt down, opened the brown pouch and took out a tiny spade.

  Gage stood beside Cat ready to give assistance if needed. His leg pained him, but he stood evenly, ready to stoop if necessary.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Sam watched Cat intently.

  Cat nodded as she dug up soil and put it in a small vial, sealed it, then marked it.

  “When we flew here in the early winter, some farmers were still taking in corn from their fields. Why didn’t they pick it when it was fresh? I mean, who wants dried-up old corn?”

  Cat’s head snapped up.

  From where Gage was standing, he caught a flicker of a smile on Cat’s face. Turning more toward Cat, he winked at her.

  She answered him with a look, then she bent again over her work. Her voice came out muffled. “You’re thinking there’s only one type of corn, just the sweet corn that humans eat. Dried field corn is eaten by hogs and beef cattle. You’ve heard of cornfed Iowa beef, haven’t you?”

  “You mean the animals eat it dried?” Sam didn’t sound convinced.

  Gage nodded but didn’t let his amusement at Sam’s misconceptions show. Again a new thought came to him. Could this ignorance of Cat’s hometown and state possibly be another reason why Cat had been so hesitant to work with newcomers?

  They followed Cat to three more locations where she dug up small soil samples.

  “What are you testing the soil for?” Samantha asked as they found themselves back near the front.

  At last, an intelligent question! Gage was relieved.

  “Soil can be alkaline or acidic. Too much either way can hinder plant growth.” Closing the pouch, Cat rose. “Now we need to step inside.”

  “Inside?” Samantha sounded surprised. “Do you do houseplants, too?”

  Gage held his breath and gazed into Cat’s eyes.

  At first, Cat looked puzzled, then her face cleared. She gave him a quick nod. “Yes, we do sell houseplants in winter. But now I need to see the different views from your windows, so we can plant what you’ll enjoy seeing outside every day.”

  “What a great idea!” Sam clapped her hands.

  Cat motioned Sam to take the lead.

  Gage began to relax. So far his partner had impressed him by doing a very professional job in spite of the customer’s naive questions.

  Sam led them inside the oak-trimmed foyer. “What would you like to see first?”

  “Where do you spend the most time in the house?” Cat peered around to the rooms that opened onto the high-ceiling entry.

  “You mean when we’re not sound asleep?” Dex asked dryly, leaning against the bottom of the oak balustrade.

  Gage knew that feeling. He and Cat usually put in twelve-hour days. But he’d done sixteen-hour days in Chicago sometimes.

  Cat nodded.

  “We often sit by the sliding doors at the back of the great room.” Samantha motioned for them to follow her as she led them to the rear of the spacious, white-carpeted first floor. “We like to watch the sun set over the rolling hills. You know we thought the Midwest would just be plain flat. Why do we have hills here?”

  “The really flat land is farther west,” Gage offered.

  Cat took up the topic. “We’re in the Mississippi River Valley. Over time, all the rivers flowing to the Mississippi carved out valleys, forming hills.”

  “How interesting!” Sam exclaimed.

  The house, done in neutral shades of beige and white, was sparsely furnished, but this didn’t surprise Gage. “How long have you two lived here?”

  “Six months. We just haven’t had time to shop for anything.” Samantha indicated antique chairs around a trestle oak table. “I want to decorate with antiques, but that takes time.”

  “Not if your family’s lived in one place for four generations! My house is furnished in antiques.” Cat smiled wryly. “You should drive north n
ear Interstate 80. The Amana Colonies have tons of antique stores, and the Amish in Kalona make and sell traditional furniture. My Aunt Bet goes up there often.”

  “Do you think your aunt Bet could recommend some shops in the Amanas?”

  Cat nodded and offered Aunt Bet’s phone number. “Now how much did you want to spend on landscaping?”

  Cringing at Cat’s bluntness, Gage spoke up, “Can you two give us your ballpark figure?”

  The couple exchanged glances. Dex mentioned a number. “We were hoping you would come up with a basic design that we could add to or subtract from.”

  “Since your time is limited, I would suggest that I design a patio garden outside the sliding doors because this is where you’ll get the most pleasure from it.” Cat’s commonsense approach reassured Gage again. His partner lacked polish, but she did know her job.

  “What about the front? I wanted something really eye-catching there!” Samantha urged.

  “I’ll plant some colorful shrubs like dwarf burning bush and a showcase circle of annuals in the front for your neighbors to enjoy,” Cat granted. “Especially marigold and zinnias. They’re great for cutting and bloom all season.”

  “What about trees?” Gage asked, watching to see how Cat would react to his taking part. Once again he found himself comparing the two blond women. He found his gaze lingering on his partner.

  “Oh, yes,” Samantha agreed.

  “You’ll need some to the west of your patio.” Cat indicated a point to the right of the windows. “Something that will grow quickly.”

  “Why there?” Dex asked.

  “Windbreak from westerly winds, especially in winter,” Cat answered promptly. “And shade from the hot sun on summer afternoons and evenings. One last question.”

  Gage frowned, hoping Cat wouldn’t undo all the good she’d done with this one last question.

  Cat gazed around. “Your home is very formally designed, but you don’t seem like formal people. Do you want a formal garden or a more relaxed design?”

  Dex and Samantha exchanged glances.

  “Can we have both?” Samantha asked tentatively. “Formal in the front and more casual around the patio?”