by Cora Seton
Sadie didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in him, however. Certainly not in what he said. He had to repeat himself more than once throughout the evening to get her attention.
When the happy couple left, and the other guests slipped away into the night shouting their goodbyes, all the remaining Reed women began to clear the dishes from the outside tables. Connor pitched in, but soon Alice’s yawns became enormous, and Lena and Jo were visibly drooping.
“You three go to bed,” Sadie ordered, suddenly present after hours of distraction.
“We need to help,” Alice protested.
“You’ve been run off your feet helping to put on this wedding,” Sadie told her. “And you two need to be up before dawn to do your chores,” she said to Lena and Jo. “You’ll have to fend for yourself for breakfast, but there are plenty of leftovers. I’ll get the rest of this cleaned up. Go on,” she continued when her sisters balked. “Up to bed; all of you.” She turned to Connor. “You, too. You can have the guest room. For now.”
“I’m not sleepy.” He turned back to folding up the rented chairs they’d used for the reception, brooking no argument. Lena, Alice and Jo trailed away inside and went to bed.
Under a full moon and the fairy lights that had been strung around for the wedding, they continued to work. Sadie moved in and out of the house, packing up food and bringing in the dishes and silverware. Connor stacked the chairs and folded up the tables as she cleared them. When they were done, they moved inside where Sadie washed the dishes and he dried them. Not knowing where everything went and what was borrowed and what came from Two Willows, he stacked the dry dishes on the long, scarred kitchen table, his gaze taking in the bullet trails again.
One of those bullets could have ended Cass’s life. Is that what Brian thought every time he saw them?
Connor didn’t think he could stand the thought of Sadie in danger. Now that he knew her—and thought of her as his future wife—he wanted to protect her from anything that might hurt her.
They worked in silence for a long time, but when Sadie had drained the sink and rubbed the counter with a damp cloth for the last time, she came to take the broom out of his hand to put it away. Once again, she brushed her fingers over his, an act that sent his senses tingling.
Once again, she ignored him, that faraway look on her face.
Connor took her hand, determined to get to the bottom of her behavior. He set the broom against a wall, tugged her outside, down the steps and into her garden, where they both looked up at the large, full moon already dropping toward the west.
“My gran would say it’s a night for pixies,” he told her in a low voice, still holding on to her.
There was his Irish accent—not the fake brogue he’d tried on her earlier, but the real deal. The one that shone through his slight Texas twang when he thought of home.
“She’d be right; the whole world is awake for this moon.” Sadie chuckled, but she shivered, too. She tried to pull free of his grip, but he kept hold of her, unwilling to let go.
“My gran was a little like Alice,” he went on conversationally. “She saw things ahead of time. On a night like this I’d catch her listening.”
“I bet she was always listening.” Sadie clamped her mouth shut. Connor turned to her.
“You hear it, too? Like Alice?” Brian hadn’t told him that.
“Not like Alice,” she said quickly.
“But you hear something?” He could believe it. On this night, under this moon, standing on a property as special as the one he’d left behind when he was ten—with a woman as beautiful as Sadie, he could believe it.
She shrugged and tugged her hand free. When she wrapped her arms over her chest as if cold, Connor decided he’d pushed her hard enough for one night.
“It was a fine reception,” he declared to set them back on common ground.
“It was. I think they’ll be happy. Don’t you?”
“I do.” He’d read the love in Brian’s and Cass’s eyes and he wondered if his parents had ever looked at each other that way.
“Why did your family move to Texas?”
He gave her an abbreviated story of his parents’ meeting in Paris, falling in love, their quick marriage and the way they’d settled in Ireland until his father couldn’t stand it anymore. “He never loved it like the rest of us did. He was a Texan through and through.”
“But he lost his wife and one of his sons when he left.”
“That’s true.” Connor shifted closer to her. He couldn’t help it. “And if you’re asking if it was worth it, I don’t know the answer to that. Seems to me he’s always been lonely.”
“He never remarried?”
“No. Neither did she.”
“Maybe they’ll find their way back to each other.”
“After all this time?” It seemed more unlikely than the pixies his gran would claim were watching him even now.
“You’re right; that’s silly. Things don’t work like that in the real world.”
He couldn’t stand to hear the pain in her voice. Was she mourning the man who’d played her to get to her ranch? He hoped not.
“So what’ll it be, lass?” he asked, slipping into his thick Irish accent again as he reached for her hand. “What kind of legacy will you build with me?”
He was touching her again. And she was feeling it again. All evening she’d experimented with the phenomenon. After a lifetime of living with a connection to the natural world, now she could only dial into it through the conduit of Connor.
She’d tried to see if it would work with other people. She’d touched her sisters, their guests. Brian. Not one of them had sparked the awareness; only Connor did.
She’d have to keep him here.
No.
Sadie wrenched herself away from the idea. That wasn’t what the ranch was trying to tell her, even if she wanted to believe it—and after hours of being close to the handsome airman, she did want to believe it. It was telling her she had to leave, and that her place on the ranch would be filled by Connor. He felt things, too—he had the ability she’d lost.
Why else would he be here—now? Why else would his touches turn her senses back on? Fate was showing her she’d been replaced.
She could barely admit to herself that when Connor had arrived, a little part of her had hoped he was there for her the way Brian had seemed to come for Cass. She’d hoped Fate had placed him in her way—as ludicrous as that was after the disaster of her relationship with Mark.
She didn’t deserve a second chance, certainly not with a man as special as Connor. It wasn’t just the way he brought back the connection to nature, either. Every time she touched him—
Sadie didn’t know how to put it into words. A fire lit deep inside her. A wanting so fierce it unnerved her. Connor seemed to be kind, attentive, thoughtful, strong—everything Mark wasn’t. Everything she’d always wanted in a man.
But she wasn’t allowed to want anything.
She definitely wasn’t allowed to want Connor. The man had to stay here. He had to tend Two Willows. She had to keep away from him—
Sadie shook her head again. No, she couldn’t stay away. She had to teach him.
She straightened, the thought taking hold of her. That’s why Fate had placed him here when she had to stay for another month; their time at Two Willows would overlap so that she could show him all he needed to know about the garden, the greenhouse, the maze, the produce stand and the cures she created and sold. He’d have the internal knowledge he needed, of course, but she could help with all the practical aspects. She’d work with him on the legacy project and use that as an excuse to tell him everything she could about her home.
By the time she had to go, he’d be all set to keep Two Willows safe and sound.
The thought tore at her, but Sadie made herself face it. The important part was the ranch—not her. If she could leave it in Connor’s hands she could be—not happy, maybe, but content.
That was the b
est she could hope for.
“Sadie?” he said again, pulling her from her thoughts. “What kind of legacy will we build together?”
“A garden, of course,” she said slowly. It had to be a garden; how else to give her the chance to tell him what he needed to know?
“You already have gardens.”
“A walled garden.” She wanted to cringe with the irony of it. A walled garden. A garden with walls meant to keep her out. Banishment from Two Willows would be so—
He didn’t remind her she’d said she wasn’t interested in such a thing just a few hours earlier. “A walled garden,” he repeated instead. “I like it. A safe place. A retreat.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This ranch used to be her haven. Not anymore. But that was all right. There was a big world outside Two Willows, she reminded herself. A world she’d dreamed of as a girl. She could go anywhere. Be anyone when she left. And that’s what she’d do—keep moving. She’d see everything.
And in time, she’d heal.
“That shouldn’t take too long,” he mused. “Although the rock work—”
“We have a month,” she told him.
Connor frowned, and his grip on her hand tightened. “Why a month?”
“Because when Cass gets home, I’m leaving.”
Chapter Three
‡
“Leaving?” Connor’s hand tightened involuntarily around hers, but he let go when she tried to tug away. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”
She didn’t answer for a moment, and Connor could swear she used the time to compose a lie. “I want to travel. To see the world. Do you think one lousy ranch could hold me forever?”
He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d slapped him. One lousy ranch? He looked at her more closely. Her features were tight, but not with anger. With something else.
Anguish?
“I think you love your home,” he said honestly.
Sadie flinched, and he remembered all the photos the General had placed around the office back at USSOCOM. It had taken him and the others weeks to realize what they were.
Intel.
He’d learned a lot about Sadie from those photos, and the gist of it was she loved Two Willows. Had a connection with her gardens that went far beyond the proud grower of a few fruits and vegetables.
“Of course I love it, but that doesn’t mean I never want to go anywhere else. Plenty of people leave home.”
“I know. I’m one of them.” That didn’t make the ache for the land he’d loved in Ireland any easier to bear. “Where are you off to then?” he asked as lightly as he could under the circumstances. Sadie couldn’t leave; he was supposed to marry her. It was the only way to clear his military record—and the only way to keep the General from selling the ranch out from under all of them. But he couldn’t tell her that. Brian had managed to marry Cass without ever spilling the beans on the issue. Now he said he was on his wife’s side and wouldn’t stand for interference with the ranch, but none of their names were on the deed. Only the General’s was.
“India,” she said after only a moment’s hesitation. “I’ve always wanted to see India.”
Connor had the feeling she’d only thought of the place in the last half-second. “I know someone in India,” he said before thinking better of it.
Sadie narrowed her eyes. “A woman?”
“No—yes,” he admitted, thinking better of lying. “An old friend. She runs a guest house there. It keeps her busy.”
“See? Plenty of people like to travel.”
He wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell her she couldn’t go, but that wouldn’t work. She’d only become more determined to leave.
“You can’t go until we build the walled garden.”
“Then we’d better build it fast. We have one month,” she reiterated. “I’d like to leave sooner.”
Sooner? Connor panicked. “How about this, lass? If you stay the full month, I’ll buy your ticket to India and I’ll set you up with my friend. With a job,” he rushed to add when she turned on him a look that could strip paint from the walls. “She’s always looking for help with the guest house. You’ll need work if you want to pay for your travel.”
At first he thought she’d say no, but after a long moment, Sadie nodded. “One month,” she repeated.
“One month,” he affirmed, already regretting his rashness. He needed more than a month to convince her to be his. He’d put himself into an impossible position. But he’d read the determination in Sadie’s eyes. If he’d tried for longer, he would have lost her then and there.
Better start working on his goal, he told himself as he bent to kiss her again.
Sadie slipped away from him. “See you in the morning.”
All he could do was watch her go.
That kiss in the maze. How could one brush of his mouth over her cheek make her insides molten and turn up the volume on her connection to the world? It had been magic—no other word would do.
And the memories of Connor’s touch made it hard to fall asleep.
Tossing and turning in her bedroom, Sadie knew the man was probably sound asleep just a few steps away in the guest room down the hall. Good thing Brian had already moved his things into Cass’s room.
Or maybe Connor wasn’t sleeping. Maybe he was thinking of all the things he’d like to do to her.
Things she’d like him to do.
Sadie turned over and buried her face in her pillow. That was the worst of it. After being burned by Mark—nearly losing her sisters and her home—how could she even think about another man touching her? It was as if her body had severed its connection with her mind—her soul. She had promised herself never to be led astray by another man, and here Connor was tempting her to let go all of her good intentions and—
Stay.
God, she wanted to stay, Sadie admitted to herself. India sounded exciting and exotic—even dangerous in a titillating way as a destination for a woman traveling on her own. But Sadie wasn’t exciting, exotic or dangerous. She’d always been connected to this ranch in a way that didn’t feel like it was hemming her in—it felt like it was lifting her up.
This was her land.
Or it had been.
Now she wasn’t sure of anything.
Sadie turned over onto her back. She wasn’t sure of anything except the desire that raged inside her for another of Connor’s kisses. Another of his touches on her wrist.
And other places.
Another flash of knowing that the land used to give her as a matter of course.
When she woke again, a shaft of sunlight spilled into the room through a gap in the curtains and Sadie blinked, trying to remember why a twist of anticipation curled through the dread she’d come to expect each morning.
Connor.
Connor O’Riley was here to build her legacy project.
And even if she wanted to leave, she would have to stay until Cass came home, which meant four weeks of accidental touches that would put her in contact with this land—her world—again.
Four weeks of not-so-accidental touches while she made the most of the opportunity to get her gardens back on track.
Four weeks of kisses—
No. That’s where she had to draw the line.
Because after four weeks were up, she had to leave Two Willows, and she wouldn’t be fit company for a man like Connor—or anyone else.
One thing at a time, she decided. It was Sunday, which meant Ellie Donaldson would be by for her herbal tonic. She came twice a month, and the woman was far too discerning for Sadie to fool if she’d just rolled out of bed when she came by. Time for a shower, breakfast and her usual morning rounds of the garden before heading to the greenhouse. Thank goodness she still had a bottle of the tonic from a previous batch she’d made before the shoot-out.
Without Cass to oversee breakfast, the kitchen looked like a small tornado had whipped through it, since everyone else had served themselves, but no one had thoug
ht to clean up afterward. With a sigh, Sadie first ran out to get her farm stand set up for the day, then came back and managed to feed herself several slices of toast and an apple while washing up. When she’d drained the sink, put away the clean dishes, wiped down the table and counters, and swept the floor, she was an hour past her usual time getting out to tend the garden, and she hurried outside to make up lost time.
Once she reached the garden, however, she wished she had lingered inside longer. Never in her years of care had it looked so dismal. Up until now she’d convinced herself that no one but her would notice the spots, dried leaves and drooping fruit, but she couldn’t hide this anymore.
This was a disaster.
Sadie made herself walk every row and note every symptom of disease and failure in the plants. She told herself she’d come up with a plan of action. Most gardeners couldn’t feel the needs of their plants, after all. There were rules to follow when you were flying blind. She’d simply have to learn them.
But I have learned them, a little voice said. I know the rules. I’m following them.
And her plants were still dying.
Tamping down her rising panic, Sadie moved on to the greenhouse and let herself into the humid building, hoping against hope to find an improvement here.
She was disappointed.
Her seedlings were leggy, drooping, sad little affairs that weren’t likely to last until they were supposed to be transplanted. That meant her succession planting would be thrown off, and there’d begin to be holes in the supply of vegetables and fruit that helped keep food on the table—and in the farm stand.
When she went to the cabinets that held her premade herbal remedies, things were even worse than she remembered. There was only a single bottle of Ellie’s tonic left.
Which meant when it was gone, Ellie’s arthritis would come back. Seeing as she made her living with her sewing needle, that wasn’t good.
With a glance at the old clock hanging on the wall, Sadie pulled out the ingredients to make up a new batch, but she knew the effort would be useless. Without the extra sense she’d always relied on, she couldn’t balance them to make the perfect formula. Every root and leaf was different; what made her remedies effective was the way she could concoct the perfect mix.