Hope's Garden

by Lyn Cote

  Cat washed their gardening tools at the backyard hose. A spray of fine sprinkles blew into his hot face. When she was done, he took the hose from her, but didn’t start watering the plants immediately. He bent over and let the icy stream of water splash over his face. Cold water coursed down his neck and under his shirt. The shock refreshed him.

  “Me, too!” Cat took the hose from him and doused her face, too. She squealed. “Cold!”

  How many women would do that? No thought about makeup, hairdo, just complete natural joy. Scooping her wet hair back from her face with one hand, she offered him the hose.

  He took it, put his thumb over the end and sprayed a mist into her face. Instead of objecting she turned around and lifted the hair off the back of her neck, letting the spray wet her neck and back. “Ahhh,” she sighed.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off the intimate, natural pose she’d assumed. The pale nape of her neck drew him as it had before. Would she notice if he touched—Stop! To break the spell, he complained, “You’re no fun!”

  She chuckled. “Sorry. It feels too good.”

  Pushing aside dangerous thoughts, he attached the plant food container to the hose and began watering. Cat wandered around the yard inspecting the shrubs and trees they’d planted. His eyes discreetly followed her. What did Cat think of him? Did she only think of him as a business partner?

  From the truck, she brought one of Jo’s bright copper sculptures, a row of birdhouses with one little sparrow on the end. As soon as she’d shown him Jo’s ornaments, he’d seconded her decision. These ornaments promised to become an instant hit.

  “Did they ask for one of those?” Gage aimed the hose away from where Cat was holding the ornament in place obviously judging its effect amid the purple and white petunias.

  “Hi!”

  Both Gage and Cat turned. Samantha, wearing navy cutoffs and a wrinkled white blouse, stood in the patio doorway. “I thought I heard something.”

  “We thought you were at work.” Cat took a step forward.

  “A migraine. I get about one a month. While I have it, I’m wasted, so I just stay home.”

  “I hope we didn’t disturb you.” Cat’s voice showed concern.

  “No, frankly the headache’s nearly gone, and it’s nice to see the garden finished. You two look like you’ve been having fun cooling off.” Grinning, Sam walked out and sat down on the antique primitive garden bench. “I love it.”

  “Glad to hear from a satisfied customer.” Gage went on watering. The first time he’d seen these two blond women together, he’d been struck by their contrast. A lot had happened since then. He saw Cat differently now somehow.

  Cat walked to Sam with the copper sculpture in her hand. “I was going to put this at the end of the patio.”

  She reached out and touched it. “What is it?”

  “A copper garden ornament handcrafted by a local artist.”

  “I didn’t see any of these at Hope’s Garden.”

  Gage contrasted how Cat had reacted to his hiring Hetty in April to her easy acceptance of selling Jo’s ornaments. He wasn’t the only one growing at Hope’s Garden. Pride stirred inside him.

  “We’ve just taken on the first consignment from the artist. The copper will turn green, you know, as it weathers and this little bird moves with the wind.” Cat spun the bird.

  “How clever.” Sam copied the movement.

  “It’s our thank-you for bringing us so much business. You’re a one-woman advertising campaign in Paradise Hills.”

  Again, Gage recalled Cat’s hesitance to take on the Crenshaws. He watched Cat’s finger spin the bird once more.

  Sam chuckled. “You do good work. And you stand behind it. I know sometimes I sound like a space angel, but I usually am a good judge of character.”

  “Well, thank you.”

  Gage looked over his shoulder to witness Cat’s pleasure. You deserve it, partner.

  Samantha grinned. “I was even able to eat bacon this week for the first time since you explained its origin to me.”

  Cat covered her smile with one hand. “Well, you asked me!”

  “I know. Aren’t we humans funny, the crazy ideas we get?”

  Nodding, Cat pointed to the flower bed. “Samantha, we’ve put in annuals for color back here. After the first frost, you should come in and buy spring bulbs—”

  “You mean like tulips?”

  Cat spun the little copper bird on the pole again. “Yes, in fall, you pull up the annuals and plant bulbs in their place. This way next year you will have color from early March to the end of the growing season.”

  “Excellent.” Samantha leaned back in her chair. “I’d like to have you two over for dinner sometime. You know it was a big decision pulling up roots and moving here. But more and more, Dex and I feel at home in Eden.”

  Gage couldn’t have agreed more. Cat’s grin tugged at him and his mouth curved into one, too.

  “I know I always have!” Cat spun the bird, then got up and planted the ornament firmly amidst the fluttering petunias.

  An hour later, Cat dialed the nursery as Gage backed them out of the drive. The news about Laurette’s surgery had eased her concern. At least the doctor was doing something. But she still felt unsettled. “Hetty, is everything okay? Good. We’ll be in the field just a little bit longer.” She snapped the cell phone shut and looked to Gage. “So where are you taking me? Where’s this new golf course to be?” The impulse to rest her head on his shoulder tantalized her. How comforting to feel his arm come around her, to rest against this tested strength. But that was probably the furthest thing from his mind. Especially after that scene with Myer this morning. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him.

  “I have one piece of land in mind so far.”

  “Have you talked with the owner yet?” Buying land for a golf course meant Gage wanted to stay in Eden. The thought brought back that funny shiver that had twitched through her in April when she’d been expecting Gage. In April, she’d wanted him gone; now she felt relief that he was staying. She’d carried the responsibility of the nursery alone for two years. Having someone to share the load had turned out to be a blessing. And they had become friends, hadn’t they?

  Gage nodded. “The owner sounded interested. The land is zoned agricultural, so I would have to get a zoning change approved by the county.”

  “Have you considered you will probably have to get DNR approval, too?” Cat longed to trace the hard line of Gage’s jaw with her finger.

  “DNR?”

  “Department of Natural Resources.”

  “Do you think the DNR would be a problem?” he asked.

  “It depends on the piece of land. But I would definitely hire some firm out of Iowa City or Des Moines to do an environmental impact study.” Cat decided to broach the subject that had been at the back of her mind since morning. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you this morning with Myer.”

  “Embarrass me? No. I just felt like I let you down.”

  “You didn’t let me down, and I know men don’t like scenes.” Her father had made that perfectly clear on several occasions. She studied Gage’s profile. He didn’t look embarrassed.

  “Making sexist comments, are we, Ms. Simmons?” he teased.

  “Just an observation.”

  “Forget about it. Myer didn’t get away with anything. That’s what counts.”

  She believed his words. She relaxed against the back of the seat.

  After a few more miles, Gage slowed the truck. “Here it is, the land along the river. I thought it would make an attractive location.”

  Her forehead creased with misgiving, she shook her head. This land could deceive a newcomer. “No, this land floods all the way to the road here about every three years.” A mental picture of the perfect acres for a golf course came up in her mind. She hesitated. It was difficult to give up a dream.

  But it was an impossible dream. She’d realized that this year. In a calm voice, she said, “If you want a ri
ver view, I have a better place. Go a few more miles, then we’ll take a right turn.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gage followed Cat’s directions. Iowa was approaching its peak. Green husks waving in the breeze, the fields of corn had already grown above the expected “knee-high by the fourth of July,” which was less than a week away. The sun beat down on the black asphalt road creating a shimmering silver mirage always just ahead of the truck. As he drove closer to the river, the fields crested into modest green hills, some in corn or soybeans, some pasture with feeder cattle grazing. Another few country miles passed. He turned right and discovered a road he hadn’t known existed. “How did I miss this? I thought I had explored every road anywhere near the river.”

  Cat pointed out her window. “It looks like a dead end because of the hill here.”

  He nodded. “Well, they always say it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.”

  Cat barely smiled. “Just follow your nose. This road will take us to the land I want you to see.”

  He wondered, was it just fatigue—his or Cat’s?—but he felt Cat withdrawing from him. From the corner of his eye, he observed her profile. Her face held an intense but closed expression. Though her shirt still looked damp in spots, the woman beside him now appeared completely different from the lighthearted minx he’d sprayed with water just minutes ago.

  Turning another bend, he left the asphalt road. He drove up a gradually rising gravel road. Another corner. He glimpsed the glittering blue river out in the distance. He stopped the car. “Wow!”

  Cat nodded. “Let’s get out. You will see the land and the view better on foot.”

  He followed her up another easy rise. Gentle hills ringed behind them. The old, lazy river curved in a wide S on the horizon. “This is perfect. Secluded, but not far off the main road.”

  “A river view, but no flooding to worry about.”

  Nodding, he couldn’t take his eyes off the natural quilt of different crops—all distinctive shades of green and contrasting textures along the contours of the low hills and along the shallow valleys. All this and the river, too. “Who owns this land?”

  “Mrs. McCanliss.” Cat’s curious distant attitude had intensified.

  “Do you think she would sell?”

  “Why would I bring you here if I didn’t know it was available?” She lifted her chin, taunting him, warning him to keep it light.

  Following her lead, he pulled the brim of her green Hope’s Garden cap down over her nose. “Don’t get smart, partner.”

  After the rugged night and day of worry, he allowed himself to soak in the peaceful atmosphere. The main road could neither be seen nor heard here. From here, the boom in Eden could be forgotten. Gage pictured the sculpted grounds of a good golf course. It was easy. This property was a dream come true. Someone in a canoe paddled by on the river.

  Cat pointed skyward, and he watched an eagle circling on the wind. He wished he’d brought binoculars. The katydids screeched on and off. Birds chirped and one called, “to-to-to.”

  He brought his mind back to business. “How much do you think the owner will ask?”

  Cat shrugged. “It depends on how much of this you want to buy, how much you’ll actually need. You will have to talk to her.”

  Again that funny controlled tone crept into Cat’s voice. Was he imagining it? “Where does Mrs. McCanliss live?”

  Cat turned sideways. “We passed her house right after we turned. Let’s see if she’s home. I’ll introduce you.”

  He couldn’t read her expression. “Just like that?”

  She shrugged again.

  What was he missing?

  “Mrs. McCanliss will be interested in meeting my partner.”

  He made an attempt. Perhaps this had something to do with an old disagreement. “Let me guess—you’re related?”

  “No, just another old family in the county. Come on.”

  Back in the truck, he drove them down the road. Soon he parked in front of a larger, better-kept version of Cat’s white farmhouse. A big vegetable garden occupied a side yard. Tiny green tomatoes dotted green vines tied to sticks with torn rags. An abundance of red salvia and silvery Dusty Miller crowded around the settled foundation.

  “Sally!” Cat called as she got out of the truck. “Sally! It’s Cat Simmons.” Cat knocked on the side door. No one answered. “She must be in town.”

  “We’ll have to try another time.” Disappointed, Gage tried to put his finger on it, but failed. Something was going on with Cat about this land. What?

  Four days later, Gage drove Cat into town to check on Harry’s progress. He parked in front of the Hadley property on maple-lined Third Street. Cat got out before he could open the door for her. They were just partners, but he wanted to do things like that for her. From comments people made about her father, he thought Cat had received little pampering in her childhood. She deserved the little courtesies she’d missed.

  “It’s starting to shape up, isn’t it?” She motioned toward the Hadley House. The home, a Victorian castle with a tower on one end, and tall, forbidding, vacant windows, had taken on the look of an old lady in the process of a face-lift. Old scraggly trees and woody shrubs had been yanked from their strangle-hold around the house giving it a naked look. Evidence of painters and roofers littered the drive to the porte cochere on the side of the house.

  “Yes, just getting rid of the dead trees and shrubs helped a lot.” Gage heard his brother’s whistling. Following the sound, he found Harry and Phil sitting on the unkempt grass in the shade of a spreading oak.

  “Hi, bosses, you caught us sitting down on the job.” Harry greeted them with the cheerful grin. “Phil and I were just taking a break. Have you heard any news about Laurette?”

  “She’s home again. Everything’s fine. As for the slacking off, I don’t blame you.” Cat sat down on the grass, too. “July can be sticky in Iowa.”

  Unexpectedly, Ryan rode up on his bike. He looked flustered when he saw Gage and Cat. “Hi,” the boy said in a guarded voice.

  “Here to help us again, Ryan?” Harry asked in a welcoming tone.

  Ryan, still straddling his bike, tried to look nonchalant. “Yeah, my mom said she’d kill me if I played one more video game.”

  Harry chuckled. “Happy to save your life, old man. Park the bike and sit down with us. I just have to report to the boss lady, then we’ll get started on marking the borders and stone walk.”

  Ryan parked his bike against the tree and sat down next to where Gage stood.

  Harry, saluting Cat like a soldier, announced, “Catherine, today we’re going to get the design mapped out. With Ryan at one end of the tape measure and Phil at the other, I’ll use my trusty neon orange spray paint to trace the outlines. Tomorrow we begin rototilling the flower beds.”

  Cat nodded. “Some of the vintage stock has already been delivered. It’s at the rear of greenhouse number two.”

  “What do you want to plant first?” Gage asked.

  Harry pointed to the southern side of the estate. “I think we’ll do the herbaceous borders first.”

  Gage heard his brother explaining the soil preparation and planting schedule for the next month, but his real attention centered on Cat. She had risen and drifted away from them, looking at the old house. Scaffolding girded the peeling two-story house. A painter was painting the gingerbread trim around the side veranda white. Gage saw trouble. “Harry, will your gardening and their house painting collide?”

  “Already taken care of, big brother. I’ll follow them as they move the scaffolding around to each side. I don’t want their big feet galumping through my roses.”

  “Good. Have fun.” With a parting wave, Gage caught up with Cat. “Penny for your thoughts.”

  “Big spender, aren’t you?” She didn’t turn toward him, but continued to look up at the house.

  He lightly rested a hand on a bar of the scaffolding. “Give me a sample. Maybe I will offer more.”

  She look
ed down, then bent to pull up a tall, fuzzy, white dandelion. “I was thinking about Great-grandmother Catherine. She grew up in this house.” She twirled the green hollow stem between her thumb and forefinger.

  He nodded, fascinated by the movement of her slender fingers.

  “I wonder sometimes why she left. What happened between her and her father to break the tie between them?”

  This line of thought didn’t surprise him. Cat seemed fascinated by family connections. Was that because she had lost both parents so young? “Maybe there wasn’t a tie to break.”

  She looked shocked. “How sad.”

  He regretted his words. Though he hadn’t realized it in April, she had a tender heart.

  She glanced up. “I think Harry is going to do a great job.”

  Grateful for the change of subject, he let a smile take over his face. In fact, he felt it to his toes. The Hadley job had energized his brother in a brand-new way.

  She broached the topic he’d studiously avoided the past three days. “Hetty can handle things back at the nursery awhile longer. I called Mrs. McCanliss. She’s home this morning. Want to go?”

  Though her voice sounded subdued, her offer didn’t startle him. He’d known she wouldn’t put off taking him out there again much longer. He’d waited, letting her decide when. “Sure.”

  This time Gage managed to beat Catherine to the truck and open the door for her. She rewarded him with a bemused smile.

  He drove them out of the town to the flowing hills around the old farmhouse. A tiny woman, in a new blue cotton dress who looked to be an old eighty-five or a young ninety-five, waved to them from the porch. “Catherine, great to see you. Come up on the porch.”

  Cat led him up the steps to the large shaded front porch. Worn wooden Adirondack chairs and new white plastic chairs were arranged there. Cat made the introductions. Gage shook the thin, blue-veined hand, then sat down beside Cat across from Mrs. McCanliss.

  The old woman smiled at him, but spoke to Cat, “What have you been doing this summer?”

  “A lot of work in Paradise Hills.” Cat stretched her perfectly proportioned legs out in front of her.