by Lois Richer
But if Rose’s Roses didn’t soon sell…Jayne couldn’t consider that. Losing Grandma Em was unthinkable.
Why didn’t God help?
Maybe she’d done something, offended Him somehow. Maybe that’s why she never got the answers she prayed for. Maybe God was sick and tired of Jayne Rose and her constant needs.
She thought of Ben. He seemed confident at church, confident at his house, just plain confident. If only she could be like that. But fear wouldn’t let go of her.
Fear that somehow, sometime, someway, she would lose everything.
Again.
Chapter Three
Three days later, Ben found himself inside Rose’s Roses again.
“Hello.” Jayne gave him a funny look. “I haven’t quite finished your landscaping plans yet,” she said, her confusion evident.
“I didn’t expect you would have,” he assured her. “I’m here on a different mission.”
“Hello, Ben.” Emma’s color was better this morning. She smiled at him, though her hands never stopped their intricate braiding of a daisy chain. “A baby dedication,” she explained with a tiny laugh.
“Ah. How are you?” he asked, charmed by her lovely smile.
“I’m well today.”
It was the today that got him. How long before Restart notified Jayne about her loan and Emma got her surgery? He’d ask later.
“I’m here to talk about Easter.” Ben held up a hand when Jayne opened her mouth. “I know, you told me it was too early for potted lilies. I’ll come back to order them. For now I need to discuss the Easter-morning service. I understand you ladies always do the decorating.”
“Yes.” Emma’s face saddened. “My son and his wife were killed on Easter morning. He was a horticulturalist and Jayne’s mom a botanist. Jayne and I do the church’s Easter flowers as our tribute to their memory.”
“That’s a wonderful memorial.” Ben swallowed. Why hadn’t anyone warned him?
“What about Easter?” Jayne said.
“The pastor asked if I’d help with the service. He said I should talk to you so we can coordinate.”
“Is he planning something special?” Jayne seemed surprised.
“He wants to open the service with the Biblical scene from the garden, when Mary Magdalene and Peter arrive at the tomb. I wondered if you two could create a garden scene in front of the tomb opening.”
“Of course we can.” Emma pulled a pen and pad near and began sketching.
“You’d have to find someone to build the tomb part,” Jayne warned.
“Of course.” When Emma left to help a customer, Ben moved nearer Jayne. “Have you heard anything about your loan application yet?”
“I haven’t filled it out.”
“Why not?” he asked in consternation.
“I don’t have a down payment, Ben. Nothing.” Her stormy eyes glared at him. “They’re not going to loan me money to buy Rose’s Roses without a down payment.”
“You don’t know that.” He didn’t understand her hesitation. “Do you have some other plan to get Emma her surgery?”
“No.” Her look told him to butt out.
“Then send in the application. The worst Restart can do is say no.”
She wanted to say something, but Emma returned with a friend in tow.
“I know I’d promised to help you, dear, but would you mind if we went for lunch first? We’re planning the ladies’ spring retreat.”
“Go.” Jayne shooed her grandmother out the door. “And don’t come back early,” she called.
“Speaking of lunch,” Ben said. “Are you free? I hate eating alone.”
“What about the friend you were going to buy the flowers for?”
“Had lunch with her last week. I don’t want to be a pest.” He grinned. “Come on. It’s my treat.”
“You’re sure you want to go with me?” Jayne studied him from behind the thick glasses, her turquoise eyes shadowed with doubt.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. Maybe we could talk more about the Easter thing.”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “Of course. I’ll get my purse.”
The way Jayne scurried away left Ben wishing he hadn’t used Easter as the excuse to get her to join him. Now she’d think he’d asked her solely so they could discuss his Easter ideas, which was not his intent.
Jayne Rose was a puzzle Ben wanted to solve. He’d watched her among the flowers, totally confident, full of solutions and able to deal with evolving situations. He’d seen the sparkle in her eyes when she took stock of his yard and considered the landscaping possibilities. She said she wanted to buy her grandmother’s business, but given a possible opportunity, she’d shied away, and Ben wanted, needed, to know why.
Jayne introduced him to Sidney, who had emerged from the back of the shop. After giving her helper some instructions, Jayne led the way to the door.
“Where’s a good place to eat?” he asked as they strolled down the sidewalk. Jayne’s gait was slightly uneven as she favored her right leg. Funny, he hadn’t noticed that before.
“I guess it depends on what you like to eat,” she deferred. She flushed a dark red when some passersby paused to stare at them. Actually they were staring at him, but Jayne wouldn’t know that.
“You choose.”
She selected a small café tucked between two upscale boutiques.
“It’s not fancy, but the food is good.” She chose a table near the back.
After they’d been served, Ben realized he was going to have to initiate the conversation.
“Have you come up with any good ideas for my yard?”
“Lots of them.” Immediately her demeanor changed. Her face glowed with interest. She removed her glasses, leaned forward and began to speak in a strong voice, one finger rubbing the bridge of her nose. “It could go several ways, though. I can’t decide which because I don’t know enough about you.”
Uh-oh.
“There’s not much to know,” he prevaricated. “I’m a pretty boring guy.”
“You own a company.”
“Yes.”
“What are your hobbies? Besides reading,” she added.
“I swim. I’m interested in photography.” He shrugged. “I used to ski but there’s little chance of that here.”
“You might find some snow if you go up the mountain, though you won’t be able to ski,” she teased. “But you could hike up, or take the aerial tramway. The view across the Coachella Valley is fantastic on a clear day.”
“I might do that.”
“You’re not from anywhere around here, are you?”
“Why do you say that?”
“You have a kind of accent. It’s different. I’m guessing Canadian?”
“Yes.” Ben was surprised by her acuity. “But how did you know?”
“A lot of snowbirds winter in Palm Springs. I’ve learned to distinguish voices.” She grinned. “If you like skiing, I’m guessing you’re not here to escape the snow.”
“Actually I was living in Los Angeles, but I hated the rat race. I wanted someplace near enough to do business when I have to, but with a quieter pace. Palm Springs fits.”
“Do you have family?”
It was clear to Ben that he was going to have to offer some details or Jayne would simply keep probing.
“No. My mother died when I was born. My father had a heart attack when I was nine. I have no other family.”
“I’m sorry.” She frowned. “Nine is awfully young to be left alone. Who raised you?”
“I had a guardian. He’s gone now.” Relieved when their server refreshed their beverages, Ben turned the tables. “What about you?”
“I grew up in a little town called Greendale, in Colorado. My parents had a nursery business.” Jayne tasted her salad.
“That’s where you caught the landscaping bug?”
“Yes. My parents taught me a lot.” She paused, fork midair, and smiled. “When we visited my grandmother, we’d go into t
he desert and I’d learn the differences between there and home.”
The wistful note in her voice made Ben realize how much she’d lost.
“I’m sorry they’re gone, Jayne. It must have been hard for you.”
“I had Granny Em.” Her voice had hardened.
“Yes, but still. You had to change schools. That’s never easy for a teen.”
“It was horrible.” The words burst out of her. Once she’d spoken, she sipped her iced tea and stared straight ahead.
Jayne was full of stress. He could see it in the way she gripped her glass. She needed to talk to someone and probably didn’t want to burden Emma.
“What was the worst part?”
“The other students,” she admitted quietly, too quietly. “I missed a lot of time while I was in the hospital recovering from the accident. That put me behind everyone. The school I went to here had mostly wealthy kids with all the expensive toys kids dream of.”
“And you didn’t,” he murmured.
“No. Emma and her partner had just started the business back then. There wasn’t a lot of extra money. My parents didn’t carry much insurance because their business was also new and they were struggling to build it.” She squeezed her eyes closed. A moment later she murmured, “But it wasn’t just the things.”
Ben ate slowly, content to let her speak without breaking her train of thought.
“It was the way the kids acted. They laughed at me.” Anguish threaded her soft tones. She covered it quickly. “I suppose I was funny. Suddenly I had to wear glasses to focus and I couldn’t get used to them. I bumped into everything. I was a klutz. Still am sometimes.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but that didn’t matter to them.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t fit in,” she said so softly he had to lean forward to hear. “No matter what I did, I could never be one of them. I tried, but I didn’t know how.”
“Teenagers are horrible,” he agreed in quiet understanding. “I went to boarding schools. The only kid who didn’t go home for Christmas.”
“But your guardian?”
“He had to travel for his work.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “I was used to horseback riding and white-water rafting. The students at school were all about fashion. I couldn’t afford new clothes, even if I’d known how to dress like them. In Colorado my mother made my clothes. I thought they looked great, but the kids here mocked them. They called me Country Mouse.”
“It didn’t help that you couldn’t be on the cheerleading squad, I suppose.”
“How—?” Her head jerked up. She stared at him.
“Lucky guess,” Ben explained. “Your leg…you favor it. I’m guessing it was damaged in the accident.” His heart wrenched at her sad nod.
“I had a lot of surgery on my knee, so no sports. And in that school, sports were king. They were state champions in almost everything. Football, basketball, volleyball. You name it.”
“You didn’t have any friends?”
“I did, for a while. A good friend. We were the science geeks. But in my junior year she moved away. Then I was really alone.” Jayne pushed away her plate, pulled on her glasses and grimaced. “I sound pathetic.”
“You sound like you suffered,” he corrected.
“It’s just that…I had so many dreams,” she murmured. “Before the accident—oh, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” Ben reached out and grasped her fingers with his. “I can understand how going through what you did has made you doubt yourself, Jayne. I understand that you feel hesitant about reaching for something that seems out of reach.”
“Yes.” She slid her hand from his and hid it under the table.
“But you’ve been a churchgoer for a long time, I think. You know about God.”
“I haven’t had much success in gaining His help lately,” she admitted, keeping her head bent so he couldn’t see into her eyes. “I’ve prayed so hard for an answer to help Granny Em, but nothing seems to work.”
“Maybe Restart is part of God’s answer.” Ben tucked his forefinger under her chin and nudged it up so he could see her amazing eyes. “What have you got to lose?” he asked after a long silence.
Jayne stared at him for endless moments. Finally she balled up her napkin and set it on the table. Her anger radiated like nuclear fallout.
“What did I say?”
“You don’t understand,” she told him fiercely.
“I’m trying. Tell me.”
“You think it’s simply a matter of ‘if at first you don’t succeed, try again.’” A bitter edge made her musical voice sound harsh.
“It’s not?”
“I have tried again,” she said with a fervor that clouded her eyes. “And again. When I didn’t win the scholarship to get my botany degree at the college of my choice, I tried again. But I had to have another surgery and lost my chance. Twice.”
“That stinks,” he agreed.
“So I decided to focus on Rose’s Roses. I figured I’d expand into landscaping and prove myself there. Now even that dream is gone. I have to find a buyer for the shop so that I can pay for Emma’s surgery.” She sagged against her chair. “Every time I get my courage screwed up enough to try again, to believe God has something special in store for me, I take another hit.”
“And after a while it’s too hard to trust one more time, to believe once again that God will hear and answer your prayers.” Ben nodded. “I know. I’ve been there, believe me.”
“Sure.” She doubted him.
Ben couldn’t explain without telling her the secrets he’d always kept hidden. She was in a vulnerable place. She needed money. If she knew he was wealthy—well, Ben wasn’t ready to trust Jayne with that information.
As the son of a wealthy tycoon, Ben had learned early that his money got between him and people. That had become more evident since his success as bestselling author David Bentley. People envied him the things money could buy. They assumed a few bucks could solve any problem. Few understood that money couldn’t buy trust or relationships where you could honestly be yourself.
“I’ve embarrassed you,” Jayne said. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I guess you caught me at a low spot.”
“I’m not embarrassed. I appreciate honesty. I think God does, too.” Ben knew she wanted to leave from the way she kept checking the wall clock. “But you can’t give up on God, Jayne. He doesn’t dangle a carrot in front of you and then jerk it away when you get too close. God isn’t like that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“God is the giver of dreams. He places dreams and ambitions and goals in our hearts because He wants us to achieve them.” Her skepticism was palatable. “We don’t understand His ways sometimes, but that doesn’t mean He wants our failure.”
“I really have to go,” she said, rising.
“Okay.” Ben paid the bill, walked back to the shop with her. “But will you send in the application to Restart? Please? Give God one more chance.”
She paused in front of her display window, her face troubled.
“Why is this so important to you?”
“Because I believe God has good things in store for you and I want you to experience them,” he said. “I don’t want you to regret not applying and later realize your fears might have prevented Emma from getting the surgery she needs.”
“My fears?” Her brows lowered angrily.
“God can’t help if you let fear control you,” he offered quietly.
Jayne took a long time, but finally she nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“Great!” Ben was so relieved by her answer he bent and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll have your estimate ready by Friday,” she said, one hand covering the spot he’d kissed. “Thanks for lunch.”
Before he could answer, she disappeared inside Rose’s Roses.
Ben hurried away. He wasn’t sorry he’d kissed her, though he was pretty su
re Jayne might be.
It was time for him to talk to God about Jayne Rose.
Long after her grandmother had retired that night, Jayne sat staring at the documents Ben had given her.
God can’t help if you let fear control you.
Was that what she was doing? Was that why, when she sat in church, she didn’t feel anything? Because fear was blocking out God?
Emma needed that surgery. Jayne had done everything else she could think of to make it happen. Now she had to do this.
Quickly, allowing no second thoughts, Jayne filled out the Restart paperwork then sealed everything in the envelope provided. She tucked it into her purse. Tomorrow she’d mail it, but she’d tell no one. Just in case she failed again.
Because she wasn’t sleepy, Jayne pulled out her plans for Ben’s landscape. Were they too grand? Too unusual? Would Ben laugh at her grandiose dreams?
Ben was nice and polite, so he probably wouldn’t laugh.
But he might not give her the contract, either. Some people couldn’t see her vision. Maybe he’d choose someone else.
The thought of not getting the job stopped the breath in her throat. She really, really wanted to do that yard.
Two days. She had two days before she presented her schemes.
Grabbing a pencil and a new sheet of paper, Jayne began sketching another plan. A simpler plan. A plan that said nothing about her innovative ideas. A plan that everyone would like.
Filling out a loan application was a risk she was prepared to take. But losing this job because she wanted to prove her abilities was a risk she couldn’t afford.
“It isn’t fear,” Jayne told herself as dawn lit the sky. “It’s practicality. Granny Em and I need this job.”
But in her heart, the burst of excitement she’d first felt was gone.
Chapter Four
Ben shifted uncomfortably in his office chair and scrambled for a way out.
“So, what do you think?” Jayne’s big green eyes studied him hopefully.
“It’s not what I expected,” he admitted, hating the way disappointment erased her smile.
“You don’t like my design.”
“I didn’t say that,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes.