by Lyn Cote
“We can do that.” Morgan nodded.
Gage was impressed. He hadn’t guessed Cat would be such an effective teacher.
Cat patted Morgan’s shoulder. “Of course, you can. Any more questions?”
The teens shook their heads no.
“Okay, Chuck, get out the bingo stuff,” Laurette prompted from the couch.
“You mean that’s the whole study?” Ginny objected.
“Yes, that’s all for tonight.” Cat grinned. “Laurette writes them short and sweet.”
Just the way Manny had, Gage mused.
“Yes,” Laurette agreed, smiling. “Kids, help Chuck get the game out. I’ve got prizes.”
This promise moved the teens to cooperate. They passed out the cardboard cards and round wooden markers. Soon Chuck called out, “B—9.”
Gage watched his two bingo cards on the floor beside him, all too aware Cat sat across from him. Her nearness tempted him to lean out and smooth back a piece of sun-golden hair that had fallen over her face. Again he felt that new tender connection to the people in the room, especially to Cat. The phone rang. He got up and went to answer it.
“Gage, that’s you, isn’t it?” His mother’s voice pulled him back to his dilemma—how to deal lovingly with his parents. “This bed-and-breakfast isn’t as bad as I thought it might be. We have to share a bathroom with your brother, but otherwise it’s fine.”
“Good.”
“How’s that youth group meeting going?”
“Fine.” He braced himself for the negative comment he knew would come.
“You know, Gage, religion is fine and good if you don’t carry it too far.”
“Yes, Mother.” But that isn’t what Manny said.
“Now, tomorrow we’d like you to show us around town and tell us what your plans are.”
Gage didn’t like the sound of that. When his mother asked what his plans were, she usually meant she was going to give him her version of his plans.
“Mother, I need to work tomorrow.”
“I’m sure your partner—what was her name, Cat?—she’ll understand you need to take time for your family.”
Since his mother only spoke the truth, he agreed. After he hung up, he stared at the phone. Why did you drag Dad and Harry all the way to Eden, Mother?
The next evening, Gage drove his truck down the lane to Cat’s house. His parents followed in their sedan. He had spent the day showing them the town and Hope’s Garden. Harry had been more interested in the nursery, so he had stayed there after his parents had gone back to the B-and-B to rest. Cat had invited them all for dinner tonight along with Chuck and Laurette.
Wary, Gage drove to the side of Cat’s home as she had instructed him. Of course, it was gracious of his partner to invite his family, but he hadn’t expected it. He hoped his mother wouldn’t be rude to Cat. He parked, got out and waited for his parents to join him. Tonight he would let his parents know he had to get back to work tomorrow and that he intended to stay in Iowa. Then maybe his mother would tell him the reason behind their visit.
He observed his mother casting measuring glances at the peeling siding on the house and the aged barn farther back on the property.
“My, this is rustic,” she murmured with the lift of her eyebrows.
“The house was built by Cat’s great-grandfather,” Gage said stiffly. He hoped his mother wouldn’t be difficult tonight.
“Some things improve with age and some don’t,” his mother replied.
Since Gage had been surprised at first over the worn condition of Cat’s home, he made no further comment. Following a stone path, he led them around the side of the house. There he halted, dumbstruck. He heard a tiny gasp escape his mother’s throat. He echoed it in spirit.
The front of the old farmhouse and its rear were totally different. Cat’s backyard was a garden, but the word garden was inadequate. Borders of fuzzy lavender ageratum, hardy wintergreen sedum, pointy hens-and-chicks curved around deep-pink peonies, beds of lavender, pink dianthus, purple Johnny-jump-ups, and white daisies. Chartreuse Chinese snowballs and veils of lacy white bridal wreath cascaded in the rear. The remnants of the lilacs fluttered in the evening breeze, sending their sweet fragrance over them.
A white, freshly painted pergola extended from the back porch steps. Lush green vines already climbed up the supports and tumbled over the beams spanning the top. Fuchsia plants hung in baskets suspended from beams. The pergola stopped just before the entrance to a large screened-in gazebo. And somewhere in the luxuriant flower garden, water from a fountain gurgled.
“This is something,” his father said, obviously impressed.
His mother frowned. “Why would someone have a lovely garden like this alongside a—”
Cat’s shy greeting drowned out his mother’s question. Wearing a flattering yellow cotton-knit T-shirt dress, she opened the screen door and motioned them inside. Her fresh, lithe beauty suited the bower she had created.
Aware his mother would pick up on any slip, Gage made certain no flicker of his intense awareness of Cat touched his features. He followed his parents up the two steps into the gazebo. Vintage white and natural-toned wicker furniture graced the interior. Aunt Bet, wearing a blue cotton jumper, and his brother Harry sat inside, looking comfortable and holding tumblers of iced tea. Cat introduced Aunt Bet and Gage’s parents.
“Please have a seat, and won’t you have a glass of iced tea?” Cat offered in a diffident tone.
“As long as it’s unsweetened.” Nikki sat down.
Cat looked startled. “No, I’m afraid it’s the old-fashioned sweetened kind, fixed my grandmother’s way from loose tea. I’m sorry. It’s the only way I know how to make it.”
“Then I’ll just have water.” Nikki smiled tightly.
“Your grandmother didn’t add anything to the tea, did she?” Duke winked.
Gage cringed at his father’s broad hinting that he hoped the tea had been spiked.
“Just water, ice and sugar,” Cat replied with an uncertain tilt of her head.
“Tastes great, Dad.” Harry held up the glass as though toasting him. Condensation on the outside of the large clear tumbler showed the welcome contrast of the iced liquid against the warm evening breeze.
“I’ll have one,” Duke conceded as he sat down.
From a side table, Cat served two more iced teas and a glass of water, then sat down with one tanned leg tucked under her on a wicker rocker. “I’m glad you were able to come, but I want to give Aunt Bet the credit for the dinner. She prepared most of it.”
Nodding, Gage rolled the sweet tea over his tongue. Refreshing. Watching Cat rock back and forth was refreshing, too. He sensed she had no idea the captivating picture she made in her buttercup-yellow dress with the rainbow garden background.
Crossing her legs, Nikki in a teal-green silk dress took a sip from her glass.
Aunt Bet leaned forward. “The spring water on this property is some of the best in the county.”
Nikki looked nonplussed. “You mean this water came right out of the ground?”
Cat looked concerned. “Don’t worry. Though there is little chance of contamination, I have my spring tested yearly.”
Nikki still looked sick.
“Mother,” Harry said, “where do you think that fancy name-brand water you buy in bottles is from? It comes out of the ground, too.”
“But tonight,” Aunt Bet teased, “no extra charge!”
Nikki held her glass and gave her son a strained look.
Cat lowered her eyes as if she didn’t know what to say.
“Where are Laurette and Chuck?” Gage leaned back in the roomy wicker chair.
“Laurette didn’t feel up to riding out here tonight,” Aunt Bet replied. “I came out to lend a hand.”
Gage also thought Aunt Bet had come to even out the group. At least, Cat would have one person of her own there. He didn’t blame Cat for needing backup. With his mother, he often felt that way himself.
> “Laurette felt bad that she wasn’t well enough to invite you for a meal,” Cat said as she pushed her foot down to make her rocker move. “So far she and the baby are fine, but she just doesn’t have her normal energy.”
So that’s why Cat invited us. He understood now.
Nikki looked around. “Your garden is lovely and so is this gazebo. Gage, Daria would love this.”
Gage stilled inside. Why would his mother mention his ex-fiancée here and now?
“Yes, but Daria wouldn’t want a gazebo on an Iowa farm,” Harry interjected blithely.
Thankful to his brother, Gage chuckled. “I think that’s safe to say.”
“You two shouldn’t joke about Daria.” Nikki stiffened. “She was heartbroken when Gage ended the engagement—”
“I didn’t break it off. Daria did!” Gage flared. A glance at Cat showed him how embarrassing this was to her. Cat looked like she wanted to retreat. How could his mother bring this up now?
“Well, you did, to all intents and purposes, when you wouldn’t have that little bit of plastic surgery before the wedding. Of course, Daria wanted you to look your handsome self—”
“Mother,” Gage cut off her flow of words. He’d owe Cat an apology. Obviously, his mother didn’t think Cat and Bet merited politeness. His eyes warned his mother not to continue. “After the accident last year, I had all the surgeries I want to have. I still have a hip replacement facing me.”
“Women!” Duke said. “A scar gives a man’s face character. I bet Daria is sorry she broke up with Gage now. I don’t see a line forming….”
“Dad,” Gage said in a gentle, but firm tone, “I don’t think we should continue talking about this now. After all, Aunt Bet and Cat don’t know anything about this.” And I didn’t want them to, either!
A brief awkward pause settled over the gazebo.
Aunt Bet said smoothly, “How did you like your tour of Eden today?”
“We were pleasantly surprised,” Duke responded with a cordial smile. “We had no idea there was such a local boom going on here.”
Gage made himself shake off the tension his mother had caused. Cat looked relieved at the change in topic, too.
“Yes.” Nikki nodded reluctantly. “There are some gorgeous homes in Paradise Hills.”
“And at only a third of the price they would be in the Chicago area. I think Gage has the right idea.” Duke leaned forward. “A golf course is just what’s needed in Eden. If there was a course here, we’d stay a few more days.”
“A golf course?” Both Nikki and Cat said in unison. Cat looked at Gage with a puzzled expression; Nikki, a shocked one.
Wishing his father hadn’t brought up this topic, Gage cleared his throat. “Yes, one of our customers mentioned that it was nearly a forty-five minute drive to the nearest golf course. I have asked around, and there’s a definite market here for one. I mean to look into starting—”
“But, Gage, I expected you to come back to Chicago,” his mother whined. “You just came out here for a break.”
Go back? No! Until he’d heard these words, he hadn’t realized what a strong reaction they’d ignite inside him. He recoiled, but he tried to keep his voice unperturbed. “Mother, I don’t think I’m going to go back to—”
“Why?” she demanded. “This all comes from that Manny you insisted on working for all those years. You think you can run away from your responsibilities and just be a boy working around gardens again. But this won’t work!”
Feeling cornered and embarrassed, Gage opened his mouth.
Unfolding herself like a cat waking up from a nap, Cat stood up. “Aunt Bet, would you help me in the kitchen?” They left together.
Grateful for their consideration, Gage waited until they both walked into Cat’s back door. “Mother, why did you bring this up? I—”
“Let’s get down to business,” Harry made his first contribution to the conversation. “You know our mother didn’t just drive out here to visit her favorite son.”
“I don’t like your tone, Harry,” Duke rumbled.
“Sorry, Dad, but why can’t Mother just tell Gage she wants him to come back and marry Daria?”
Strained silence settled over the four of them. Gage tried not to be rude or flippant like his brother, but he had to tell the truth. “It’s over between Daria and me.”
“But—” his mother began.
Gage shook his head. “No.”
“But—”
“No.” His reply was implacable.
“Well, so much for Plan A.” Harry grinned with amusement. “Now tell Gage Plan B.”
Chapter Seven
The angry whirlwind had finally passed. And they’d all escaped unscathed.
Gage stood beside Cat as they watched the gleaming red taillights of his parents’ car vanish down Cat’s lane to the county road. Aunt Bet had preceded them to lead them back to town.
Behind Gage, the setting sun blazed red-hot. He felt its heated rays warming his back. All through his mother’s melodramatic complaints, he had held his temper, but he felt like he’d been shoved through a wood chipper.
“It’s going to be another hot day tomorrow.” Cat turned sideways toward the sun. “My dad always said a hot sun at evening meant a hot day tomorrow.”
Gage eyed her. Should he somehow apologize for his mother’s causing a scene? And what would Cat say to Plan B?
“I know it’s not good to stare at the sun, but when it’s so orange-gold, I have to steal a glance.”
“I know.” He drew in a deep breath. Now was the time for an apology, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain that his mother wasn’t like this all the time. Harry had pushed her far past her normal level of patience. “It’s late. Let’s get in and do those dishes.” He touched her elbow. It’s soft curve just fit his hand.
“You don’t have to do—”
“I want to.” With his gentle grip on her elbow, he urged her forward. “Both of us have to work the same hours tomorrow. I appreciated your inviting my family to dinner.” Though my mother didn’t eat much of it. “Helping with the cleanup is the least I can do.”
Also, he wasn’t ready to leave her, to leave the haven of her luxuriant garden and its blessed peace.
She moved forward, but didn’t pull away from him. “You’re father sure liked Aunt Bet’s fried chicken. But your mother was so worried. I hope it won’t really upset his cholesterol level.” She sounded worried.
“Don’t pay attention to my mother. My dad will be fine. He will just play a few more rounds of golf this week to work it off.” Reluctantly letting go of her arm, he walked beside her into her garden, her bower. Glancing down, he allowed himself to watch the rhythmic swing of her perfectly tanned legs beneath the yellow hemline. At work, he always kept his eyes at a businesslike shoulder-high level. But he wasn’t at work now.
What an evening! His hip ached. His head ached. But Cat hadn’t let him down. After his mother had given Cat and Bet no choice but to retreat gracefully from the family conflict, the two women had stayed in the kitchen until Gage had gone up the back steps to signal an all clear by asking if he could carry anything out for them. Without any questions, they’d let him help bring out two steaming platters of golden fried chicken, a huge bowl of creamy yellow potato salad and fresh asparagus salad—a true feast. After the conflict with his parents, he didn’t have much of an appetite. But Bet and Cat’s politeness had smoothed the awkward situation. As usual when his mother wanted her way, she had stirred up a lot of emotion.
His hip ached more than usual and even his scar felt tender. Were these just psychosomatic reactions? How could he love his mother and father so much and disagree with them so completely? Gage felt drained emotionally, but he had one more challenge to face tonight. What would his partner say to Plan B? He studied her profile. Her small upturned nose fit her face as though an artist had sculpted it.
“This garden is a work of art.” He had to stop and massage his throbbing leg. To hid
e this from Cat, he paused and motioned ahead. The pinks, reds and purples accented the lush greenery. Butterflies still fluttered in and around the garden blossoms.
“A work of love.” Cat smiled and folded her arms. “My father and I started working together on this after my mother died. Daddy had painted and screened in the old gazebo as his wedding gift to her. He’d promised her a garden worthy of the gazebo.”
She still called her father “Daddy.” From what he had heard from Bet and Laurette, Cat’s father had been a gruff curmudgeon. But he had loved his wife enough to change the name of the family business to hers and to fulfill the promise of a garden even after his wife died. That spoke of real love.
Cat’s parents were both gone, but she spoke of them with love; she decorated their graves and wept for them. Obviously, she still felt connected to them. He couldn’t ever remember feeling in sync with his parents. He had always felt as though someone had dropped him off on their doorstep in a basket. Only with Manny had he felt linked.
With one last rub to his leg, he followed Cat up the steps of the gazebo. A petite woman, she carried herself tall with her shoulders squared and her head held high. She looked capable and strong—and she was also understanding enough to cope with unruly visitors.
His mother would never have caused a scene like she had tonight among her own friends. His mother must have thought Bet and Cat weren’t important enough to show her best face. How wrong she’d been to write off these two caring women.
Cat led him into the gazebo. Without a word, he began gathering and stacking dishes. His hand grazed hers as they both reached for the same dish. Both pulled back as if they had touched fire. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Unexpectedly that same attraction he’d felt on Memorial Day hit him like a shot of adrenaline. Was it because they were alone again, away from work? He didn’t think that could explain it. There was just something about Cat that made him want to forget business. He concentrated on the task at hand.
After two trips to the house, they had carried everything inside. There, Cat turned on the kitchen faucet and began to run hot water into a blue plastic dishpan in the old-fashioned white porcelain sink. “Last chance to get out of it.” She grinned at him as the steam rose and the frothy bubbles bubbled and bubbled.