In the Garden Trilogy (28 page)

“That’s so sweet. Nothing like your first crush, is there? I remember mine. I was crazy for this boy. He had a face full of freckles and a cowlick. I just about died with joy the day he gave me a little hop-toad in a shoe box.”

“A toad.”

“Well, honey, I was eight and a country girl, so it was a thoughtful gift all in all. He ended up marrying a friend of mine. I was in the wedding and had to wear the most god-awful pink dress with a hoop skirt wide enough I could’ve hidden a horse under it and rode to the church. It was covered with ruffles, so I looked like a human wedding cake.”

She waved a hand while Stella rolled with laughter. “I don’t know why I’m going on about that, except it’s the sort of traumatic experience you never forget, even after more than thirty years. Now they live on the other side of the city. We get together every now and then for dinner. He’s still got the freckles, but the cowlick went, along with most of his hair.”

“I guess you know a lot of the people and the history of the area, since you’ve lived here all your life.”

“I guess I do. Can’t go to the Wal-Mart, day or night, without seeing half a dozen people I know.”

“What do you know about the Harper ghost?”

“Hmm.” Jolene took out a compact and her lipstick and freshened her face. “Just that she’s always roamed around there, or at least as far back as anybody can remember. Why?”

“This is going to sound insane, especially coming from me, but ... I’ve seen her.”

“Oh my goodness.” She snapped the compact closed. “Tell me everything.”

“There isn’t a lot to tell.”

But she told her what there was, and what she’d begun to do about it.

“This is so exciting! You’re like a detective. Maybe your father and I could help. You know how he loves playing on that computer of his. Stella!” She clamped a hand on Stella’s arm. “I bet she was
murdered
, just hacked to death with an ax or something and buried in a shallow grave. Or dumped in the river—pieces of her. I’ve always thought so.”

“Let me just say—ick—and her ghost, at least is whole. Added to that, our biggest lead is the ancestor who died in childbirth,” Stella reminded her.

“Oh, that’s right.” Jolene sulked a moment, obviously disappointed. “Well, if it turns out it’s her, that’d be sad, but not nearly as thrilling as murder. You tell your daddy all about this, and we’ll see what we can do. We’ve both got plenty of time on our hands. It’ll be fun.”

“It’s a departure for me,” Stella replied. “I seem to be doing a lot of departing from the norm recently.”

“Any of that departing have to do with a man? A tall, broad-shouldered sort of man with a wicked grin?”

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “And why would you ask?”

“My third cousin, Lucille? You met her once. She happened to be having dinner in the city a couple nights ago and told me she saw you in the same restaurant with a very good-looking young man. She didn’t come by your table because she was with her latest beau. And he’s not altogether divorced from his second wife. Fact is, he hasn’t been altogether divorced for a year and a half now, but that’s Lucille for you.”

Jolene waved it away. “So, who’s the good-looking young man?”

“Logan Kitridge.”

“Oh.” It came out in three long syllables. “That
is
a good-looking young man. I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I didn’t not like him, I just found him annoying and difficult to work with. We’re getting along a little better at work, and somehow we seem to be dating. I’ve been trying to figure out if I want to see him again.”

“What’s to work out? You do or you don’t.”

“I do, but ... I shouldn’t ask you to gossip.”

Jolene wiggled closer on the bench. “Honey, if you can’t ask me, who can you ask?”

Stella snickered, then glanced toward the reptile house to be sure her boys weren’t heading out. “I wondered, before I get too involved, if he sees a lot of women.”

“You want to know if he cats around.”

“I guess that’s the word for it.”

“I’d say a man like that gets lucky when he has a mind to, but you don’t hear people saying, ‘That Logan Kitridge is one randy son of a gun.’ Like they do about my sister’s boy, Curtis. Most of what you hear about Logan is people—women mostly—wondering how that wife of his let him get loose, or why some other smart woman hasn’t scooped him up. You thinking about scooping?”

“No. No, definitely not.”

“Maybe he’s thinking about scooping you up.”

“I’d say we’re both just testing the ground.” She caught sight of her men. “Here come the Reptile Hunters. Don’t say anything about any of this in front of the boys, okay?”

“Lips are sealed.”

 

IN THE GARDEN OPENED AT EIGHT, PREPARED FOR ITS advertised spring opening as for a war. Stella had mustered the troops, supervised with Roz the laying out of supplies. They had backups, seasoned recruits, and the field of combat was—if she said so herself—superbly organized and displayed.

By ten they were swamped, with customers swarming the showrooms, the outside areas, the public greenhouses. Cash registers rang like church bells.

She marched from area to area, diving in where she felt she was most needed at any given time. She answered questions from staff and from customers, restacked wagons and carts when the staff was too overwhelmed to get to them, and personally helped countless people load purchases in their cars, trucks, or SUVs.

She used the two-way on her belt like a general.

“Miss? Do you work here?”

Stella paused and turned to the woman wearing baggy jeans and a ragged sweatshirt. “Yes, ma’am, I do. I’m Stella. How can I help you?”

“I can’t find the columbine, or the foxglove or ... I can’t find half of what’s on my list. Everything’s changed around.”

“We did do some reorganizing. Why don’t I help you find what you’re looking for?”

“I’ve got that flat cart there loaded already.” She nodded toward it. “I don’t want to have to be hauling it all over creation.”

“You’re going to be busy, aren’t you?” Stella said cheerfully. “And what wonderful choices. Steve? Would you take this cart up front and tag it for Mrs ... I’m sorry?”

“Haggerty.” She pursed her lips. “That’d be fine. Don’t you let anybody snatch stuff off it, though. I spent a good while picking all that out.”

“No, ma’am. How are you doing, Mrs. Haggerty?”

“I’m doing fine. How’s your mama and your daddy?”

“Doing fine, too,” Steve lifted the handle of her cart. “Mrs. Haggerty’s got one of the finest gardens in the county,” he told Stella.

“I’m putting in some new beds. You mind my cart, Steve, or I’ll come after you. Now where the hell’s the columbine?”

“It’s out this way. Let me get you another cart, Mrs. Haggerty.”

Stella grabbed one on the way.

“You that new girl Rosalind hired?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“From up north.”

“Guilty.”

She pursed her lips, peered around with obvious irritation. “You sure have shuffled things around.”

“I know. I hope the new scheme will save the customer time and trouble.”

“Hasn’t saved me any today. Hold on a minute.” She stopped, adjusting the bill of her frayed straw hat against the sun as she studied pots of yarrow.

“That achillea’s good and healthy, isn’t it? Does so well in the heat and has a nice long blooming season.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few things for my daughter while I’m here.” She chose three of the pots, then moved on. As they did, Stella chatted about the plants, managed to draw Mrs. Haggerty into conversation. They’d filled the second cart and half of a third by the time they’d wound through the perennial area.

“I’ll say this, you know your plants.”

“I can certainly return the compliment. And I envy you the planting you’ve got ahead of you.”

Mrs. Haggerty stopped, peering around again. But this time with speculation. “You know, the way you got things set up here, I probably bought half again as much as I planned on.”

This time Stella offered a wide, wide smile. “Really?”

“Sneaky. I like that. All your people up north?”

“No, actually my father and his wife live in Memphis. They’re natives.”

“Is that so. Well. Well. You come on by and see my gardens sometime. Roz can tell you where to find me.”

“I’d absolutely love to. Thanks.”

 

BY NOON STELLA ESTIMATED SHE’D WALKED TEN miles.

By three, she gave up wondering how many miles she’d walked, how many pounds she’d lifted, how many questions she’d answered.

She began to dream about a long, cool shower and a bottomless glass of wine.

“This is wild,” Hayley managed as she dragged wagons away from the parking area.

“When did you take your last break?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been getting plenty of sit-down time. Working the counter, chatting up the customers. I wanted to stretch my legs, to tell you the truth.”

“We’re closing in just over an hour, and things are slowing down a bit. Why don’t you find Harper or one of the seasonals and see about restocking?”

“Sounds good. Hey, isn’t that Mr. Hunky’s truck pulling in?”

Stella looked over, spotted Logan’s truck. “Mr. Hunky?”

“When it fits, it fits. Back to work for me.”

It should have been for her, too. But she watched as Logan drove over the gravel, around the mountains formed by huge bags of mulch and soil. He climbed out one side of the truck, and his two men piled out the other. After a brief conversation, he wandered across the gravel lot toward her.

So she wandered across to him.

“Got a client who’s decided on that red cedar mulch. You can put me down for a quarter ton.”

“Which client?”

“Jameson. We’re going to swing back by and get it down before we knock off. I’ll get the paperwork to you tomorrow.”

“You could give it to me now.”

“Have to work it up. I take time to work it up, we’re not going to get the frigging mulch down today. Client won’t be happy.”

She used her forearm to swipe at her forehead. “Fortunately for you I don’t have the energy to nag.”

“Been busy.”

“There’s no word for what we’ve been. It’s great. I’m betting we broke records. My feet feel like a couple of smoked sausages. By the way, I was thinking I’d like to come by, see your house.”

His eyes stared into hers until she felt fresh pricks of heat at the base of her spine. “You could do that. I’ve got time tonight.”

“I can’t tonight. Maybe Wednesday, after we close? If Roz is willing to watch the boys.”

“Wednesday’s no problem for me. Can you find the place all right?”

“Yeah, I’ll find it. About six-thirty?”

“Fine. See you.”

As he walked back to his truck, Stella decided it was the strangest conversation she’d ever had about sex.

 

THAT EVENING, AFTER HER KIDS WERE FED, AND engaged in their play hour before bed, Stella indulged in that long shower. As the aches and fatigue of the day washed away, her excitement over it grew.

They’d kicked
ass
! she thought.

She was still a little concerned about overstock in some areas, and what she saw as understock in others. But flushed with the day’s success, she told herself not to question Roz’s instincts as a grower.

If today was any indication, they were in for a rock-solid season.

She pulled on her terry-cloth robe, wrapped her hair in a towel, then did a kind of three-step boogie out of the bathroom.

And let out a short, piping scream at the woman in her bedroom doorway.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Roz snorted back a laugh. “Flesh and blood here.”

“God!” Since her legs had gone numb, Stella sank onto the side of the bed. “
God!
My heart just about stopped.”

“I got something that should start it up again.” From behind her back, Roz whipped out a bottle of champagne.

“Dom Perignon? Woo, and two hoos! Yes, I think I detect a beat.”

“We’re going to celebrate. Hayley’s across in the sitting room. And I’m giving her half a glass of this. No lectures.”

“In Europe pregnant women are allowed, if not encouraged, to have a glass of wine a week. I’m willing to pretend we’re in France if I get a full glass of that.”

“Come on over. I sent the boys down to David. They’re having a video game contest.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that’s all right. They’ve got a half hour before bath and bed. Is that caviar?” she asked when she stepped into the sitting room.

“Roz says I can’t have any.” Hayley leaned over and sniffed the silver tray with its silver bowl of glossy black caviar. “Because it’s not good for the baby. I don’t know as I’d like it, anyway.”

“Good. More for me. Champagne and caviar. You’re a classy boss, Ms. Harper.”

“It was a great day. I always start off the first of the season a little blue.” She popped the cork. “All my babies going off like that. Then I get too busy to think about it.” She poured the glasses. “And by the end I’m reminded that I got into this to sell and to make a profit—while doing something I enjoy doing. Then I come on home and start feeling a little blue again. But not tonight.”

She passed the glasses around. “I may not have the figures and the facts and the data right at my fingertips, but I know what I know. We’ve just had the best single day ever.”

“Ten percent over last year.” Stella lifted her glass in a toast. “I happen to have facts and data at my fingertips.”

“Of course you do.” With a laugh, Roz stunned Stella by throwing an arm around her shoulders, squeezing once, then pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Damn right you do. You did a hell of a job. Both of you. Everyone. And it’s fair to say, Stella, that I did myself and In the Garden a favor the day I hired you.”

“Wow!” She took a sip to open her throat. “I won’t argue with that.” Then another to let the wine fizz on her tongue before she went for the caviar. “However, as much as I’d love to take full credit for that ten percent increase, I can’t. The stock is just amazing. You and Harper are exceptional growers. I’ll take credit for five of the ten percent.”