by Cora Seton
The way she watched him so hungrily when she thought he wasn’t looking.
“I got it,” he said again.
“Good.”
“You’re in a good mood,” Sadie said sourly when Lena popped into the house for a late lunch. No one had shown up on time for the meal, and the way they were each filing in at their own schedule meant a chore that should have taken an hour to prepare and clean up had already stretched out to two hours. Connor hadn’t shown up for lunch at all; he was still in town and she wondered what had delayed him.
“Of course I’m in a good mood. I’ve got the whole ranch to myself. Not a single man has interfered with me today.”
“Brian’s coming back, you know.” She hoped Connor was, too. For the garden’s sake, she told herself quickly. No other reason. She pulled out the soup she’d just put away and ladled some into a pot to reheat. Another dish to wash.
“I can handle him. But for now I’m going to pretend he doesn’t exist. No man does. I’m blissfully on my own, running my cattle the way they were meant to be run. You make sure you keep your man in check. He takes one step too close to my cattle and I’ll give him what for.”
“Connor’s not my man,” Sadie told her tartly, pulling out the chopped salad she’d made, too. Once again she’d be late getting out to the garden. She was getting so far behind, her customers had taken to coming to the back door with their requests for vegetables. She was behind making her cures and tonics, too. Not that there was much she could do about that. She had a long afternoon ahead of her if she wanted to catch up.
“Are you sure? Looks like your man from where I’m standing. He follows you all over the place. He’s building you a garden.”
“That’s why the General sent him; to build something that will last—like the maze. And to keep him out of trouble, I think. Jo says he got himself into a mess back in the Air Force.”
“Just like Brian did in the Navy, huh?” Lena thought about that, taking a seat and serving herself some of the salad. “Since when is the General the patron saint of lost causes?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s his job to funnel them out of the military without making a fuss.”
“As long as they don’t stay here. Apart from Brian. He’s all right,” Lena conceded. “But you move Connor along when he’s done. We don’t want to give the General ideas, right?”
“Right,” Sadie answered faintly. Her heart had sunk into her stomach when Lena said to move him along. If Connor left, she wouldn’t be able to hear what the garden needed. She’d been using surreptitious touches to find out what her plants wanted to keep them happy, trying to heal the garden as much as possible before she left. Connor was supposed to take over for her—
But Sadie had to admit to herself she didn’t know what was supposed to happen. For all Connor helped her tap into the knowledge she needed, he never showed any interest in actually gardening.
What if he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—take her place?
Chapter Five
‡
When Connor got back to Two Willows, Sadie was washing lunch dishes in the kitchen and from the way she was banging them around as she did the chore, she wasn’t happy. He’d missed lunch, he realized. He’d stayed too long chatting with Cab, forgetting that if they didn’t all eat around the same time at the ranch, it made more work for Sadie. He’d have to make amends.
It didn’t help that Cab’s words kept ringing in his head, or that he felt guilty for his casual flirtation with Mae. He’d never thought about the careless way he flirted with women when it helped him reach some goal. Trotting out his accent was something he did in his line of work—another tool in his toolkit.
He’d have to keep that particular weapon in its holster.
“I could use some help out back this afternoon,” he said cautiously.
“I’ve got plenty to do already.”
“Look, I’m sorry I was late for lunch. Don’t suppose there’s a sandwich for me in that fridge.”
“If there is, you’ll have to make it. And then you’ll have to clean up after yourself; I’ve done enough of that today already.”
She was pissed. Connor wondered if something had happened while he’d been gone. “Has someone come to bother Jo again?”
“Bother Jo? Why would you ask that?” She spun around from where she’d been drying silverware and putting it away in a drawer. “Who’s been bothering Jo?”
“Bothering is probably too strong a word,” he amended. “A man was here this morning. Looking to buy a puppy. I didn’t like the look of him.” Especially because it had been obvious the man was flirting with her, and Jo needed to hang on until Hunter got here.
“She doesn’t have any puppies to give away like that anyway,” Sadie said, turning back to her task. “She has a waiting list a mile long.”
Connor didn’t tell her he’d managed to jump to the head of that list.
“I’ll just grab something—”
“I waited,” she blurted out. “For you. To have lunch. Until it was damn clear you weren’t coming.”
“You waited?” He hadn’t expected that. “Sadie—”
“Forget it. I’ve got to get to work.”
Connor decided he’d have to forego lunch or lose his chance with Sadie today. She was acting as if he’d stood her up for a date—and maybe he had in a way. With a last, longing look at the refrigerator, he followed her outside and into her garden, where she began to walk up and down the rows, examining the plants carefully.
She’d waited for him. And he’d let her down. He didn’t want to do that. He wanted Sadie to feel like she could depend on him.
“About the walled garden,” he tried again. “I think we should begin to think about what to plant there. You’ll want to order any trees ahead of time—” He cut off when she turned a scathing look in his direction.
“Trees? I’m not planting trees. I’m not planting anything. I told you I intend to travel as soon as Cass gets back.” She straightened, shaded her eyes and sighed. “Damn it,” she muttered, and before he could answer, she strode off toward the carriage house where an old silver truck had pulled in.
Connor made to follow her, but felt a light touch on his arm, and looked up to find Alice standing next to him. He’d seen her at meals, of course, and around the house, but this was the first time she’d made an effort to seek him out. “Give her a minute,” she said. “Something’s going to happen.” Like Sadie, she was dressed in jeans and a plain shirt. Her hair was done in a loose braid that fell halfway done her back.
Connor bit back an expletive—if something was going to happen, he needed to be with Sadie, but Alice’s grip on his arm tightened. “She’s in no danger.”
Connor relaxed a little when a middle-aged woman climbed out of the vehicle and made her way to meet Sadie. The two of them talked, the woman gesticulating and placing a hand on her forehead. Sadie listened patiently and nodded at first, but then shook her head.
Connor expected the conversation to end, but the woman wasn’t put off that easily. In fact, the more Sadie shook her head, the more her visitor talked. Alice folded her arms over her chest as she watched her sister. Finally the stranger threw up her hands and climbed back into the truck.
“I’m sorry,” he heard Sadie call after her, but the way the woman backed out, spun the wheel and roared off told Connor she wasn’t satisfied with the exchange.
“I’ve never seen her do that before,” Alice said in a soft voice.
“Do what?”
“Turn away a customer. Something’s wrong.” She closed her eyes as if she was listening to something far off. “It’s like…the tie that binds Sadie to Two Willows is disintegrating. She’s trying to leave.” Alice opened her eyes, her lips parted in shock. “Did you know that?”
“She told me she wants to,” he admitted. “When Cass gets home.”
“You have to stop her.” Alice got that far-off look again, but a moment later, she shook her head. “I c
an’t see what will happen, but I know she’s not supposed to leave—not for good.”
“She’s a grown woman. She can do whatever she wants.” Connor shrugged, although the gesture cost him. He didn’t want to lose Sadie either, but he didn’t know how to tell Alice that.
Alice stared at him. “She can’t leave,” she said again. “That’s perfectly clear. We Reed women have to stay.”
“Only one of you at any given time.” Brian had explained the women’s superstition, and with his Irish background, Connor had been prepared to go along with the whimsical fancy of it, but this was taking it too far.
“For short periods that works, but that isn’t what we’re talking about. We’re talking about Sadie leaving—for good. She can’t do that.”
Alice had gone so pale Connor placed a hand on her elbow to steady her. “Look, I don’t want that—”
Alice jerked, swallowed, swayed—and grabbed hold of him for support. Just as quickly she wrenched away from him again and scrambled back a few feet.
“Alice?”
She held out a hand to stop him when he tried to approach. He could almost see the thoughts running through her mind. “You—” She straightened, and the shock on her face faded. Her color returned. When she smiled, he thought he saw triumph mixed with her relief. “You’re—” She didn’t finish her sentence. Just lifted a hand to cover her mouth and turned to look at Sadie, who was still staring in the direction of the departed truck. Connor got the sense she was holding back laughter. Alice dropped her hand and waved toward her sister. “Go be with her. Sadie needs you.” She shook her head, becoming serious again. “We all need you.”
Just like that, she left him standing in the garden, more baffled than before.
She’d never turned someone away before, and it felt worse than Sadie had imagined. Nora Ingram’s headaches were exactly the kind of thing her herbal cures could treat, but she didn’t have the correct tonic on hand, so now the woman would probably take some over-the-counter pain medicine that might wreak havoc with her digestive system over time.
Sadie realized she’d taken her skills for granted all these years in a way that made it doubly bitter to lose them. Why hadn’t she expressed her gratitude more often? She was selfish. Self-centered—
In disgust, she turned back toward the garden, but nearly stumbled over the uneven ground when she found Connor striding toward her. Was that the answer? Was she meant to help Connor step into her shoes?
And if so, why didn’t he show some interest in gardening—?
Sadie’s shoulders sagged. He had, hadn’t he? And she’d cut him off. But he’d been talking about trees and decorative plants, not healing ones.
What am I supposed to do? She sent her petition up to the sky, not knowing who she was asking. What would her mother have done in this position?
The answer came clearly.
Listen.
She needed to stop thinking so hard; stop trying so hard. She needed to pay attention.
The garden will tell you.
It was as if her mother had spoken aloud.
Of course.
Sadie squared her shoulders and went back to meet Connor. For the next several hours she obediently did as he asked, listening to his plan for how to build the wall now that the footer was in and the stone delivered. Discussing which ornamental trees and dwarf fruit trees might thrive within its walls when they were done. Debating if the warm, inner, south-facing walls could support something that usually only grew several states south of here.
Despite herself, Sadie warmed to the task, and the walled garden began to take shape in her mind. “We could espalier a peach tree against the south-facing wall,” she told him. Peaches would be delightful if they could pull it off.
“I think it would need more shelter,” he said, and explained his own ideas. He might not be a gardener, Sadie thought, but he was an enthusiast.
He could be trained.
Was that what she was meant to do? Train Connor to take her place? Train him, and then stay on as his assistant—
No. She’d have to be truly tone-deaf if she thought that was the answer. It was clear she needed to leave, but she had three weeks to teach Connor to listen to the plants and grow to love them.
Spending time with Connor was no hardship, either. He was funny, for one thing. Nice to look at. He asked her question after question to coax a detailed plan for the walled garden from her. She couldn’t remember anyone taking such an interest in the growing things at Two Willows since her mother had passed away.
Of course, she touched Connor every chance she got—to get information about the soil, nutrients and growing conditions for the plants that would someday grow here.
And because she felt so alive when she did.
Back in the house later that afternoon, Sadie found herself humming as she did Cass’s chores. She ran down into the basement, pulled out a load of sheets and towels and folded them neatly on a table placed there for the purpose. Upstairs again, she delivered fresh towels and sheets to each room. Her sisters could remake their own beds, but she’d do up Connor’s out of courtesy since he was a guest.
The buzz of a cell phone had her patting her pocket as she entered the guest bedroom, but it wasn’t hers. She caught sight of Connor’s sitting near the edge of his desk. She went to push it to a safer position and couldn’t help seeing the messages that lit up his screen. There were three of them.
I’m in the tub. Remembering Milan. Lila
Come on, handsome. Are you really going to blow me off? Bridget
So excited about your wedding. Just found my mother-of-the-groom dress! Mom
The sheets and towels slid from Sadie’s hands.
Connor was already involved with two other women.
And he was marrying one of them.
When Connor rounded the door into his bedroom and found Sadie there ahead of him, his first impulse was to take her in his arms and kiss her.
And he followed it.
He knew he was taking a chance, but after the wonderful afternoon they’d spent together, he figured his odds for success were much higher than they’d ever been previously.
So when Sadie answered with an uppercut that would have split his lip if he hadn’t automatically blocked it, he couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Who’s Lila?”
Too late he spotted his phone on the desk. Even as he watched it lit up with a new message. Lila—and even Bridget—wouldn’t leave him alone. And there was always the chance some other woman he’d dated could text him out of the blue. He could only imagine what Sadie had seen. It had never meant anything. He’d stopped answering when he’d come to Two Willows and met Sadie. He’d lost interest in flirting with anyone else. That didn’t stop the messages, though. If anything, they’d picked up.
“She’s no one,” Connor told Sadie. “Just a girl.”
“Just a girl? Does she know about Bridget?”
Connor stifled a curse. This was worse than he’d expected. “She doesn’t need to know about Bridget. Bridget’s nobody—”
“Right. So which one is your fiancée?” Sadie looked mad enough to spit—or to hit him again.
Connor couldn’t keep up. “Fiancée?”
“Fiancée! As in, your future wife?” Sadie glared at him. “The one whose wedding your mother can’t wait to attend?”
“Oh!” Clarity crashed over him. His fiancée. Right. He supposed he couldn’t tell Sadie he was staring at her right now. He might not be the smoothest of men, but he was smart enough to know this wasn’t the way a lass would like her proposal to play out. “Let me explain.”
“When a man starts with let me explain, it’s hopeless.” Sadie tried to push past him, but Connor caught her, and as always when they touched Sadie sucked in a breath. He affected her; he knew that. He couldn’t let her run out of the room thinking he was the bastard she thought he was right now.
But how to explain it all. He was who he was because of how
he’d grown up, but he didn’t want to dwell on that. He wanted to change.
“My mother and father are still in love,” he blurted.
Sadie stopped struggling. “What does that have to do with—”
“They’re still in love. At least, I think they are. Neither one has moved on. Both keep asking about each other,” Connor said, hoping like hell he could make her understand. “I’m tricking them.”
She watched him warily. “How?”
“If they think I’m getting married, they’ll both come to Montana. Short of my funeral, it’s the only way they’ll agree to be in the same place at the same time. They’ll have to talk to each other face to face.”
“You think that will make them patch things up? After what—twenty years?”
When she put it like that, it became clear how ludicrous the idea was. “No.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. I don’t know. I have to try. I told them both I was marrying in five weeks.”
“Won’t they be furious when they find out you lied to them? Or are they used to that?” Anger tightened her features. “How about Lila and Bridget? Are they used to that, too?”
“They both know the drill.” Fuck. Had he really just said that?
“So you’re a cheat as well as a liar. I should have known. All men are.” Sadie kicked the pile of towels on the floor and sent them flying before she shouldered past him and out the door.
Dinner tasted about as good as she felt that night. She’d burnt the fried chicken. Poured too much milk into the potatoes before she mashed them. She swore the lettuce in the salad had wilted in her hands as she prepared it. Her sisters picked at their food, then escaped from the kitchen one by one. Sadie refused to acknowledge Connor manfully cleaning his plate.
“We need to talk,” he said after the meal when they were alone.
“We don’t need to do anything. You need to head back to Texas—or Ireland—anywhere but here!”
She pushed back from the table and stood up. As she began to collect the dirty dishes and scrape the leavings into the trash, Connor stood up, too, and crossed the room to touch her.