Dress Me in Wildflowers (15 page)

“No problem at all.”

Farrin hated the puppy-trying-to-please-her-master expression on Janie’s face. Seeing Janie Carlisle down and low didn’t bring the sense of elation Farrin had dreamed about for so long. Instead, embarrassment and shame soaked into her.

When Janie completed the shopping list, she headed out the front door, where she met Tammie. Their eyes widened at seeing the other.

“Tammie.”

“Janie.”

Talk about cutting tension with a knife.

Once Janie closed the door behind her, Tammie turned to Farrin. “Why was she here?”

This wasn’t going to be fun.

“She’s working for me.”

“Pardon me, I could have sworn you said she was working for you.”

Farrin crossed her arms. “I hired her because I opened my big mouth and got her fired.”

“Fired?”

“Yes, I decided to tell Mr. Carlisle I didn’t like how he treated his employees, and dear old Dad took out his anger on Janie.”

Farrin gave Tammie the details of the happenings at the bank.

“Dang, the man holds a grudge,” Tammie said.

“All of this is because she got pregnant without being married? Seems excessive.”

“Think about it. She marred the image of the perfect family.”

“The man didn’t even have a single picture of his grandkids in his office.”

“Nobody ever said he was a sweetheart.” Tammie ran her finger through the dust coating a desk. “Still, hiring Janie Carlisle.” She said it as if she found the mere idea repugnant.

“It’s not like I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with her. I’ll get things on track here and then go home. I’ll call to check on the progress, maybe come down when everything’s done to make sure the place is ready to list.”

“It’s just so strange.”

“How the tables have turned? Yeah.”

“You don’t look very happy about that.”

“It doesn’t feel like I always imagined it would.”

“You’re a kind person at heart, Farrin. Don’t let her hurt you again.”

“I’m tougher than I used to be.”

She was, really. One didn’t succeed at her level without being tough and unafraid to crunch a few eggshells to bits. Still, Farrin accepted Tammie’s warning. No matter how Janie Carlisle’s life had changed, she was still the girl who’d mortified Farrin at their junior prom, ending any glimmer of hope Farrin had harbored for a social life before fleeing Oak Valley.

A slice of the anger and embarrassment she’d experienced that night resurfaced, and she hardened herself against the compassion she’d begun to feel for Janie. She was helping her for the sake of her children, nothing more.

“Well, I better let you work. You need to get whatever is pressing finished today so I don’t have to drag you by the ear to the hiking trail tomorrow,” Tammie said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be ready for some communing with nature.”

After Tammie left, Farrin made an appointment for the contractor to examine the building and went to the Valley Bank to set up an account that would allow Janie to buy supplies and pay repairmen.

“Janie Carlisle?” the man at the bank asked when she mentioned who would have check writing privileges.

“Yes.”

“But doesn’t she work at Merchants?”

“No, Mr. Pitman, she works for me.” Her tone invited no more questions. The story of Janie’s firing was likely blazing around the county at that very moment, but Farrin decided to leave it up to Janie as to how she wanted to deal with it. Farrin had enough on her plate without quieting gossips.

She returned to the inn to find Janie hard at work sweeping the accumulated dust from the floors. Buckets, mops, brooms and bags of cleaning supplies lined the entry hall.

It struck Farrin that Janie hadn’t even asked how much she was going to pay her. Maybe she held the philosophy that anything was better than nothing.

“We need to work out some details,” she said when Janie looked up from the corner where she was sweeping down cobwebs.

“Okay.”

“I’ll pay you whatever you were making at the bank. I’ll decide what to pay the kids once I see what they can do.” She figured kids might spend more time playing hide-and-seek in the numerous rooms than helping their mother.

“Dara and Jason are good workers. You won’t be disappointed.”

Farrin nodded, but she’d still wait and see. “I also set up an account at Valley Bank, and you’re a signatory. But no checks will be written without my prior approval.”

“Okay.”

Farrin stared at Janie. Had her parents beaten down her confidence so much that there was nothing left of the girl who had been queen bee in high school? Granted, most of that girl needed to go, but there was nothing left — no animation, no color, no life.

“Next on the list is the garden. Almost everything is dead or dormant now, but it needs sprucing up in preparation for next spring. Is there a garden center near here?”

Janie shook her head. “Most people go into Johnson City. But you might want to ask Drew Murphy. He does some landscaping, and he’s very good. You should see his place. It’s like something straight out of a gardening magazine or a fairytale.”

Drew again. An old twinge of hurt and resentment flared at the thought of Janie visiting Drew’s house.

“I’ll give him a call.”

Janie smiled, as if the thought pleased her.

Farrin took her cell phone out to the garden. She wandered up and down the brick paths, envisioning what she wanted this place to become. She imagined the city councilmen’s faces when new life returned to the inn and lively colors swayed in the breeze in this garden. Could Drew Murphy help the latter become reality? And why was she nervous as she thought about calling him? She’d talked with him several times since coming back to Oak Valley, and yet she couldn’t banish the ball of nervousness in her stomach each time she did. She shook her head.
Get over it.

She punched his office number into the phone. “Drew Murphy, please.”

“Mr. Murphy is in court. Would you like to leave a message?”

“Yes.” She waited for Drew’s automated message, then the click. “Drew, this is Farrin Taylor. I’m looking for someone to restore the gardens here at the inn, and someone suggested you might be interested. If you are, give me a call.” She left the cell number, then hung up. Why did part of her hope he wasn’t interested?

Because with Janie and unknown contractors working here, she could remain detached. Somehow, Drew’s involvement would make the whole refurbishment more real, like she’d invited him into one of her dreams.

To clear the crazy thoughts, she dialed again, this time to her office.

“How’s life in the boonies?” Justine asked when she answered the phone.

“Fine.”

“Have you not run out of things to do yet? Or have you found a hot farmer to spend your time with?”

An image of Drew in jeans and a plaid shirt, halfway unbuttoned, sweat pouring off him, popped into Farrin’s mind. She was losing it.

She ignored Justine’s question. “Have you heard from Cara Hutton yet?”

“No. But Katrina Wellington called again, insistent that you call her. She mentioned contacting the White House to see if she could get an interview with Cara or her mother.”

“She’s welcome to try.” Farrin couldn’t imagine the First Lady allowing such an interview to take place.

“What are you doing down there?”

“I told you, visiting friends.”

“Are you visiting everyone in town?”

Farrin had made fun of her hometown too many times to count, but for some reason Justine’s comments rubbed her the wrong way. She must be tired and still wondering if she’d made a mistake buying the inn.

But it didn’t feel like a mistake, and she couldn’t articulate why.

“I’ll be unavailable most of tomorrow. I’ll check in the next day.”

“When are you coming back?”

“I’ll let you know.” An odd sense of relief came over Farrin when she ended the call.

****

Voices inside the inn led Farrin back indoors. She left the side door open to allow fresh air to clear out the stuffiness and followed the sound of conversation.

“That’s good. Move on to the next one now.” Janie pointed toward a window, indicating the slim blond girl tackle the grime on it next.

In the time Farrin had been outside, the room had begun to show its promise. The floor was swept and mopped, three-fourths of the windows were clean and revealing the outside world, the furniture was no longer coated with years of disuse.

“Oh Farrin, I didn’t hear you,” Janie said.

Farrin eyed the little girl, who was the mirror image of her mother at age ten. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach — until the child smiled. That much, at least, was blessedly different from the girl Janie had been. There was no malice, no “I’m better than you.” Just innocence and what looked very much like a desire to please.

“Farrin, this is my daughter, Dara. She’s been helping clean the windows. Jason is outside picking up limbs that have fallen off the trees.” She pointed out one of the newly cleaned windows at the shady yard on the opposite side of the inn from the gardens.

Farrin walked across the room and looked out the window. A boy with blond hair much like his sister’s had created a large pile of limbs at the edge of the yard and was now raking accumulated leaves and stuffing them into large trash bags. “That bag is almost as big as he is.”

Dara chuckled. “Don’t tell him that. He’s very sensitive about his height. It makes him mad that I’m taller than he is when he’s older.”

“I thought you were twins.”

“We are, but he likes to brag that he’s two minutes and eleven seconds older than me.”

Farrin had not spent much time with children, and normally she was very uncomfortable around them. But something about this girl’s intelligence and animation made her smile. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Farrin Taylor. It’s nice to meet you.”

The girl hesitated. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m sorry, but my hands are dirty.”

Farrin’s heart twisted. Why did this girl who’d probably never seen the inside of a dilapidated trailer or walked the dusty length of Iggy Bottom Road remind her of herself? Maybe it was the hint of embarrassment in her bright blue eyes. She kept her hand out and leaned down toward Dara. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

Dara looked at her mother, and out of the corner of her eye Farrin saw Janie nod. Dara put her small hand in Farrin’s and shook it. Her smile spread wide across her young face, making her even more beautiful.

“Well then, it looks like you have things under control here,” Farrin said. “I need to get some work of my own done.”

Faye was having several friends over for cake and a game of cards that afternoon, so Farrin had brought her sketchpad with her. She retreated to the garden and found a sunny spot on one of the benches. After sketching for several minutes, she stopped to admire the preliminary design of a wedding gown for an actress planning a May wedding in Barbados. After weeks upon weeks of nearly pulling her hair out working on Cara Hutton’s dress, Farrin nearly wept with relief at how effortlessly the designs were again. Maybe when she got home, she needed to retreat to Central Park or ride out to Liberty Island to free up her muse, who evidently liked the outdoors and less confined settings.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps. Dara walked toward her, a book in her hands. “Mom found this in one of the bookcases and said you might like to look at it.” She extended the large book, making her petite hands look even smaller.

Farrin took the book and glanced at the cover.
A History of the Ivy Springs Inn
. She flipped through some of the pages, eyeing photos of the inn and the gardens as she remembered them when she was a child no older than Dara. “Thank you. This will really help in making the inn look like they used to.”

“There are pictures of the gardens. I like the wildflowers better than the roses.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s so neat the way wildflowers pop up in all those bright colors without anyone doing anything.”

Farrin smiled. “I think I agree with you. I’ll get to see some of the mountain wildflowers tomorrow. I’m going hiking up on the Cane Ridge Trail. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve studied the trail maps at the library.”

“Have you ever hiked there?”

A bit of the light in the girl’s eyes faded. “No ma’am. With school and all, I’m very busy.”

And all? Farrin wondered if Janie worked her children like little servants at home. Had she made a mistake by agreeing to Janie’s idea of letting the children earn some money, too? Did they not have time to be children?

“What kind of wildflowers do you like best?”

“Oh, I love them all. Sometimes I wish I could fill my room with them, but Jason probably wouldn’t like that. Too girly.”