Easter Blessings (2 page)

“G
ranny, are you sure you’re up to having company for supper?”

Sadie Hillsboro turned away from the red beans and rice bubbling on the stove, her wrinkled hand reaching for Mariel. In a cultured Southern drawl, she said, “Child, Heath is not company. He’s like family to me. Now stop fussing and come sit at the table so we can have a nice chat before we eat.”

Mariel took her grandmother’s hand, then sat down on one of the old chrome-backed kitchen chairs. “Are you sure about him? I mean, he seems to be good at his job. He obviously knows all about growing lilies, but—”

“But—” Sadie smiled, her pink-rouged lips parting as she pushed a hand through the soft white tuft of hair piled in a bun on top of her head. “Do you find Heath a bit intense, dear?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Mariel replied, memories of Heath’s compelling eyes making her blush all over again. “He’s not like the men I know.”

Sadie kept the smile on her face as she fingered the
ancient strand of pearls hanging in a long loop down the front of her lace blouse. “You mean he’s not like…let’s see, what’s his name?”

“Simon,” Mariel said, holding a breath as she waited for a stern lecture from her lovable grandmother on love and marriage. But the lecture didn’t come.

Instead Sadie sat back against her chair, her eyes—the same shade of green as Mariel’s—contemplating her granddaughter. “No, Heath is not like that Simon fellow you keep mentioning in your letters and calls. Heath understands things such as commitment and values. He comes from good stock—his whole family has worked the lily fields in California and Oregon for close to seventy-five years now. Three generations of farmers, you know.”

Mariel would have rather had the lecture. But instead, she got a glowing report on White Hill’s new star manager. Mariel once again got the impression that Sadie and Heath were in on a secret. She wanted to know what that secret was.

“Heath’s record sounds impressive,” she said, treading lightly so her sharp-as-a-tack grandmother wouldn’t clam up. “How did you find him?”

“The Internet, of course,” Sadie said with a flutter of her long lashes. “After our Dutch decided to retire—you know he’s getting on up in years now—I posted a Help Wanted ad on our Web site, the one you designed for us, and we just love it. Soon I had prospects coming in from all over the country.” She paused, waved a hand in the air. “’Course, none of them could live up to Dutch Ulmer. Until we saw Heath’s résumé. Somehow, I just knew it was right. So I prayed about it, read the Bible, and do you know what happened?”

“No, Granny. What happened?”

“I decided the way I always decide. I shut my eyes,
flipped through the Good Book and pointed to a random passage.”

“Really?” Amazed at how her grandmother has always made major life decisions in this way, Mariel could only shake her head. She certainly didn’t hold any stock in consulting an ancient tome on what to do with her life. That little voice in her head suggested maybe she should give it a try, since her current practical methods didn’t seem to be working, but Mariel ignored that. “And what verse did you land on, Granny?”

Sadie’s face beamed with a light of pure contentment. “Luke Twelve, Verse Twenty-seven. ‘Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow.’ You know the passage, of course, don’t you, Mariel?”

“Of course,” Mariel replied. She no longer read the Bible, but she sure remembered her grandmother quoting that particular passage often enough. It had always been a favorite of her grandmother’s, for obvious reasons, Mariel thought with amusement.

Sadie clapped her hands together. “It all made sense to me then.”

“So you hired Heath, based on that verse?”

“Oh, no,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “I went out into the big field first—this was way back late last summer, so there weren’t many blooms left, but I stood there, listening to the lilies. Then I came in and called Heath right away.”

Mariel let out a groan, then got up to butter the French bread. “Does everyone around here listen to flowers?”

Sadie stared hard at her granddaughter. “Why, yes, I reckon we do. It’s part of our job. Do you find that offensive?”

“I find it rather odd,” Mariel replied as she slammed the bread tray into the oven. “I guess I don’t get it.”

“You used to ‘get it,”’ Sadie replied, “and it’s my firm
hope that one day you will remember that.” She patted Mariel on the back. “And that’s part of the reason I asked you to come for this visit.”

Mariel turned to hug her grandmother close. “Well, I’m glad I’m here, what with you having these health problems. I’m worried about you, Granny. You have to listen to your doctors. A bad heart is serious.”

Sadie gave Mariel a tight squeeze, then stood back to smile up at her. “My heart is just old, honey. And tired. But I’m going to behave and follow the doctor’s advice. I’ll be fine. I have to stay strong until I’ve accomplished the things I have yet to do.”

Mariel wondered what things her grandmother meant. All afternoon, Sadie had been tight-lipped about what she expected now that Mariel was home. They’d talk at supper, was all she could get out of Sadie. That and the doctor’s warning that Sadie was headed for a heart attack if she didn’t slow down and watch her diet. The doctor wanted to do some more tests, but Sadie had refused.

Mariel’s mission for now was to make sure Sadie followed through, whether her grandmother liked it or not.

Sadie, however, seemed perkier than ever tonight. “Your uncles are coming, by the way. They can’t wait to see you.”

“I’d like to see them, too,” Mariel said. “But I have to wonder why they don’t check on you more often.”

“They’re busy with their jobs,” Sadie said with a shrug. “Family things—soccer, Little League, Junior League, PTA meetings, the usual.”

Mariel didn’t mention that they only lived a few miles away and could easily drive to White Hill on any given day. Instead, she broached another sensitive subject. “Have you heard from Mom lately?”

Sadie’s bright eyes seemed to fade out a bit. “Not since Christmas. Your mother does her own thing, I’m afraid.
Always has, and always will.” Then she looked at Mariel. “What about you? Have you talked to her recently?”

“I called her to tell her I was coming here for a few weeks, but I could never reach her. I wanted her to know where I’d be in case she needed me.”

“Your mother doesn’t need people,” Sadie replied on a sad note. “Or at least that’s what she’d like us to believe.”

Mariel had long ago given up on trying to figure out her mother, Evelyn. Her parents had divorced when Mariel was ten, and none of them had seen her wayward father since. Evelyn, once a vibrant, pretty woman, was now a bitter middle-aged shrew who blamed everyone and everything for her troubles. Mariel tried to keep in touch with her mother, but Evelyn’s tendency to criticize and whine had turned Mariel off too many times to keep them close. Her mother lived in Florida, and rarely visited the tiny town in northwest Louisiana where she’d grown up. White Hill held too many painful memories, Evelyn had told her.

Mariel wondered now if that was why she didn’t come to White Hill too often herself. In spite of the many hours of happy times she’d spent here, it had been here that she’d found out about her parents’ divorce. Maybe her mother was right. Some memories were just too painful.

The screen door opened with a swish, bringing Mariel out of her bittersweet memories.

She looked up to find Heath Whitaker standing there in a clean blue shirt and fresh jeans, his eyes centered on her.

“Hi,” he said. Then he shoved a dainty bouquet of trailing honeysuckle into her hands. “These grow along the fence behind my cottage. Thought you and Sadie might enjoy them.”

Mariel took the flowers, savoring the sweet smell of the delicate yellow and white blossoms as she held them to her nose. “Thanks.”

Sadie dropped the big spoon she’d been using to stir the rice, then wiped her hands on her ruffled white apron. “Heath, come on in. Supper’s just about ready. Iced tea or water with lemon?”

“Tea would be nice,” Heath said, his eyes still on Mariel. “As long as it’s sweet.”

“Granny only makes it that way—half sugar, half tea and water, I believe. She’ll need to cut back on that some now that the doctor’s put her on a healthier diet.”

Mariel whirled to find a vase, acutely aware that both her grandmother and Heath were watching her. And from the smug look on her dear grandmother’s face, Mariel got the distinct impression she’d been set up.

Her grandmother was playing matchmaker. That must be why she’d asked Mariel to come here. Sadie wanted her first-born granddaughter to find true love and happiness, the way she had with Grandfather Jonas.

Mariel had certainly heard Sadie express that wish for her often enough. Sadie didn’t think Mariel could truly be happy with Simon what’s-his-name back in Dallas.

And lately, Mariel had begun to suspect her wise grandmother might be accurate on that account. She and Simon were definitely on the outs right now.

She turned and gave a shaky smile to Heath Whitaker, deciding as matchmaking went, however, he wasn’t a bad choice.

Not bad at all. But that didn’t mean she was ready to get involved with a man who listened to lilies and picked her honeysuckle straight off the fence. Mariel had no intention of acting on her overly romantic grandmother’s obviously misguided ploy to bring Mariel and Heath together.

No intention at all.

But then Heath smiled back at her. And brought all of
her carefully controlled defenses crashing down like an out-of-control mudslide.

I’m in serious trouble here, Mariel thought to herself.

The other two people in the room kept right on smiling at her.

Serious trouble.

T
hey made it through supper without too much embarrassment, if Mariel didn’t count the way her grandmother kept smiling back and forth between her and Heath Whitaker, like the cat that had swallowed the cream. Thankfully, before Granny could drop any more obvious hints, her uncles arrived in time for dessert and coffee.

“Let’s go into the living room,” Sadie suggested. Mariel took a tray laden with coffee cups and a decanter in and set it on the round polished Queen Anne coffee table. Her grandmother followed with a steaming pan of peach cobbler, and Heath followed with dishes and spoons.

“Where’s the ice cream?” Uncle Kirby said, winking at Mariel.

“Didn’t get any,” his mother replied. “Besides, I have to get the low-fat kind now. Just didn’t seem the same, if you ask me.”

“Now, Mama,” Uncle Adam said, taking the bubbling peach cobbler from her to place on a pot holder, “you’d better heed Dr. Kirkland’s advice. You have to eat right and exercise more.”

“Do I look overweight to you, son?” Sadie asked, her hands on her hips.

Mariel had to smile at that. Her grandmother was so petite, she seemed like a little doll. “It’s not your weight, Granny. It’s your cholesterol. That’s the culprit. You’re just too good of a cook.”

“I can attest to that,” Heath said as he poured coffee for everyone. “I think I’ve gained five pounds since I came here.”

Mariel’s uncles laughed. They seemed to like Heath as much as Granny. Mariel wanted to like the man, too. She just hadn’t figured out what was so special about him. Besides listening to lilies and such.

Once they’d all settled onto the ancient Victorian sofa and chairs, Mariel’s uncles grew quiet and waited for her grandmother to speak. Mariel looked from one to the other, wondering what was going on. Then she looked over at Heath. He just gave her that little half smile, then turned his gaze back to Sadie.

“Y’all ready?” Sadie asked. When her two sons nodded, she let out a sigh then smiled at Mariel. “Honey, we’re all real glad you could take some time off to come to the farm. As you know, we get busy around here this time of year. Spring is on the way, and we’ve got to start shipping the lilies we’ve been nurturing in the greenhouses.”

“I understand, Granny,” Mariel replied. “Do you need my help? Is that why you insisted I come immediately?”

“Well, yes, and no,” Sadie said, pausing to take a long sip of her decaf. “Mariel, we asked you here for a very important reason. And before you say no, I want you to listen very closely to what I’m telling you.”

“Granny, you’re scaring me.”

“Nothing to be scared about,” Uncle Kirby said, his plump hands folded in his lap.

“Let me just tell her,” Sadie said, her tone firm but soft. “Mariel, as you know, your uncles have good careers in the city. Kirby is an executive at one of the largest banks in Louisiana. And Adam is president of his own construction firm. They stay busy with their obligations and their families.”

“Yes, but—”

Sadie held up a hand. “Hear me out, please. Long ago, these two worked hard here on the farm. But neither of them wanted to stay here at White Hill. I sent them both off to college down in Baton Rouge, and they got to see some of the world. So I didn’t begrudge each of them their desire to live and work in Shreveport. However, I had hoped one of them might come home someday, to take over the farm.”

“You’d think,” Mariel said, looking at both her uncles. They each squirmed and shifted their feet. She turned back to her grandmother. “So, is that what’s happening now? Is one of you going to take over the farm now that Granny’s sick?”

Kirby cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, his gray-tinged hair glistening as he shook his head. “Delores and the kids like living in the city, I’m afraid. I can’t do it.”

Then Adam shook his head. “And Bree feels the same way. Kids are in good schools, got a great set of friends, a good church. I just can’t see forcing them to move back out here, miles away from everything they’ve come to know.”

“I see,” Mariel replied, thinking she could at least understand that. She liked living in Dallas and she had her own career there. “So what’s the plan?”

“You, dear,” Sadie said, her green eyes centering on Mariel. “I asked you here because I’ve made a decision, and the boys have agreed with me on this decision.”

Mariel stared over at the “boys,” both of whom continued to squirm. “What’s the plan, Granny?”

“I’m leaving the farm to you,” Sadie blurted out. “After I’m gone, I expect you to carry on the tradition of growing White Hill Easter lilies.”

Mariel shot out of her chair. “Hold on a minute! You’re telling me Uncle Kirby and Uncle Adam have agreed to this? What about their inheritance, what about their children? What are you talking about, Granny?”

“You’d have controlling interest,” Kirby, the banker, explained. “You get twenty-six point five percent and the land and the house. We—meaning your mother and us two—each get twenty-four and a half percent and any profits from that. And our children would inherit that from us, while you would inherit the remainder of your mother’s holdings.”

Mariel felt the heat rising on her skin. “So you’re telling me I could inherit the bulk of this place, lock, stock and barrel, and you’d both just sit back and rake in whatever profits are to be divided between us?” When everyone nodded, she threw a hand in the air. “Why are we discussing this? Granny, you’re sick but not anywhere near death.” Then she stopped, her heart slamming into her chest. “Oh, Granny, you aren’t dying, are you?”

“Not anytime soon, I can assure you,” her grandmother said on a dry note. “I’m just getting my affairs in order, is all. And after many long hours of discussion with the boys, I’ve decided this is the best solution. You see, dear, they wanted me to sell the farm and move to one of those fancy retirement villages back in the city. I’d just as soon swat flies off a donkey’s tail.”

Mariel saw the amusement on Heath’s face. It infuriated her. “And just where do
you
fit in with this plan?”

“Me?” Heath pointed to his chest, then tossed his sun-
streaked bangs out of his face. “I get to train you, to teach you how to grow lilies. And how to
listen
to lilies, too.”

Mariel pivoted to stare into the empty fireplace. “That is ridiculous. I mean, why can’t you two just oversee things for Granny? Why can’t you help her out?”

“We’ve been helping her out all along,” Kirby explained. “We keep up with her taxes, her finances, any type of business concerns she might have. We just can’t come out here and physically run the place. That’s why we suggested she might consider selling after Dutch decided to retire. Dutch ran this place, with Mama overlooking things and working by his side, but Dutch got old. We just suggested selling out as the best option.”

“But she’s not having any of that,” Adam said. “So we have to abide by her wishes.”

“That’s right,” Sadie said, getting up to come and touch Mariel’s arm. “And it is my sincerest wish to have
you
home and running this farm. You’d be perfect for the job, Mariel. You know these lilies. You practically grew up here as a child, and I’ve seen you out there in the big field. You have the heart and the head for this.”

Mariel turned to find all of them staring at her, three with hope, and one in particular with skepticism. “I have a career, too. And I have a life back in Dallas. You’re asking me to just walk away from that?”

“Only after I’m gone, if you want to wait until then,” Sadie said, her statement as calm as if she were offering up more cobbler. “Of course, I was hoping you’d just start in the near future.”

“I don’t even want to have this discussion,” Mariel replied. “What about Mother? Doesn’t she get a say in this?”

“Over the years, your mother has refused to discuss it—said she didn’t want any part of this old farm. I haven’t
told her about this plan, but I won’t cut her out of her inheritance, no matter how stubborn she is.”

The hurt in Sadie’s words made Mariel stop and take a calming breath. “Well, at least she will have an interest. Maybe if I tell her that, she’ll come home and talk about it.”

“That’s up to you,” Sadie replied. “I’m done with her for now.”

“Why me, Granny?”

“Well, I can’t wait until the other four grandchildren are grown. You’re the oldest. And I told you, you have the heart for it.”

“And we don’t,” Kirby said. “We grew up here and we love this old place, but life goes on and we have our own lives now. It would be a burden—”

“A burden?” Mariel’s anger stopped him short. “A burden? This place is the only Easter lily farm in all of Louisiana. They said it couldn’t be done, that the climate wouldn’t support growing lilies, but Granny proved all of them wrong. She made this
old place
a household name all across the South. A White Hill Easter Lily is of the finest quality. I can’t imagine an Easter without lilies. A burden—”

This time, the hand on her arm wasn’t her grandmother’s. It was Heath’s. “I thought you didn’t know much about lilies.”

The admiration in his eyes was unsettling. “I don’t. I mean, I know enough. And I know that…we can’t sell this place.”

“Then you’re my only hope,” Sadie said, pride in the words. “And…I only ask that you stay here through Easter, let Heath teach you. If after that time, you don’t think you want to do this…then I’ll eventually make plans to sell the farm and move to town.”

Mariel looked up at Heath. He smiled, nodded, then
dropped his hand from her shoulder. “Sadie, I think you’ve found the right person for the job, after all.”

“You had doubts?” Sadie said, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“A few.”

“But not anymore?” Mariel asked, wondering what kind of doubts he still had about her.

“I’m beginning to see the wisdom in this plan,” he said. Then he leaned close. “And the challenge.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, like I said earlier, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

“Just because I don’t listen to lilies?”

“No, just because you don’t listen to your heart. But there’s hope.”

“What would you know about my heart?”

“Not much. But you just stood here and fiercely defended this place, so I’m looking forward to learning a whole lot more.”

Mariel glared at him, then became aware that the room had grown quiet. Her uncles and her grandmother were all watching her expectantly.

With a frustrated sigh, she said, “I’m here through Easter anyway. Might as well see what this place is all about. But I’m not making any decisions or promises. I have a good job and…responsibilities of my own.”

Even as she said the words, she realized she had nothing. Nada. There wasn’t really anything holding her in Dallas. She could do her graphic design and Web site work from just about anywhere. And Simon… Well, they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.

“Of course, dear,” Sadie said, uncommonly docile for the moment, in spite of the glee in her eyes. “So when do you want to get started?”

Mariel turned back to Heath. “I guess I’ll be reporting for work bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Heath took a sip of coffee, set the cup down, then waved good-night. “Like I said, I’ll look forward to it.”

Mariel watched him walk away, her whole being telling her this was a very bad idea. Her grandmother hadn’t brought her here for matchmaking. She’d brought her here for keeps.

Only, Mariel wasn’t sure if she was disappointed by that, or afraid to think ahead to what the next month would be like.

Then it hit her—maybe Granny had a dual purpose in mind. Maybe she wanted Mariel to work with Heath in hopes that she would fall for him.

And want to stay here with him for longer than a month.

Mariel remembered the image of Heath standing in the middle of the lily field, and for just an instant, she thought she heard a long sweet sigh moving on the wind.

Then she realized the sigh had come from her.