In the Garden Trilogy (77 page)

Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and water dampened her canvas skids. The gentle spray annoyed the gang of bees covering the sedum. So, come back when I’m finished, she thought as they flew off with an annoyed buzz. We’re all after the same thing here.

She moved slowly, half dreaming, down the tables holding the picked-over stock.

And if one day she had a garden, and there was Lily playing on the grass. With a puppy, she decided. There should be a puppy, all fat and soft and frisky. If she was able to have all that, couldn’t she add a man? Someone who loved her and Lily, someone funny and smart who made her heart beat just a little faster when he looked at her?

He could be handsome. What was the point of a fantasy if the guy wasn’t great-looking? Tall, he would be tall, with good shoulders and long legs. Brown eyes, deep delicious brown, and lots of thick dark hair she could get her hands into. Good cheekbones, the kind you just wanted to nibble your way along until you got to that strong, sexy mouth. And then—

“Jesus, Hayley, you’re drowning that coreopsis.”

She jerked, whipping the sprayer, then on a little yip of distress whipped it back again. But not before the water hit Harper dead-on.

Gut shot, she thought, torn between embarrassment and inappropriate giggles. He looked down at his soaked shirt, his jeans with a kind of grim resignation.

“Got a license for that thing?”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. But you shouldn’t sneak up behind me that way.”

“I didn’t sneak anywhere. I walked.”

His voice was aggravated, but so Memphian, she thought, where she knew hers hit twang when she was excited or upset. “Well, walk louder next time. I really am sorry though. I guess my mind was wandering.”

“This kind of heat, it’s easy for the mind to wander, then lie down to take a nap.” He pulled the wet shirt away from his belly. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he narrowed them. “What did you do to your hair?”

“What?” Instinctively she reached up, pulled her fingers through it. “I had it cut. Don’t you like it?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine.”

Her finger itched on the trigger of the sprayer. “Please, stop. That kind of flattery’ll just go to my head.”

He smiled at her. He had such a great smile—sort of slow, so that it shifted the angles of his face and lit up in those deep, dark brown eyes—she nearly forgave him.

“I’m heading home, for a bit anyway. Mama’s back.”

“They’re back? How are they? Did they have a good time? And you don’t know yet because you haven’t been home. Tell them I can’t wait to see them, and that everything’s fine over here, and Roz shouldn’t worry and come over and start in working when she’s barely walked in the door. And—”

He cocked his hip, hooked a thumb in the front pocket of his ancient jeans. “Should I be writing any of this down?”

“Oh, go on then.” But she laughed as she waved him away. “I’ll tell them myself.”

“See you later.”

He walked off, the man of her daydreams, dripping a little.

She really had to get her mind off Harper, she warned herself. Get it off and keep it off. He wasn’t for her, and she knew it. She walked over to give the potted shrubs and climbers a good soak.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted anybody to be for her—right now, anyway. Lily was number one priority, and after Lily came her job. She wanted her baby happy, healthy, and secure. And she wanted to learn more, do more at the nursery. The more she learned, the less it would be a job, and the more it would be a career.

Pulling her weight was fine, but she wanted to do more.

After Lily, her work, and the family she’d made here, came the fascinating and spooky task of identifying Amelia, the Harper Bride—and laying her to rest.

Most of that fell to Mitch. He was the genealogist, and along with Stella the most organized mind of the bunch. And wasn’t it cool that he and Roz had found each other, fallen in love, after Roz had hired him to research the family tree to try to find where Amelia fit in? Not that Amelia had cared for the falling-in-love part. Boy, she’d been a stone bitch about it.

She might get mean again, too, Hayley thought. Now that they were married and Mitch was living at Harper House. She’d been quiet for a while, but it didn’t mean she’d stay quiet.

If and when the whirlwind resumed, Hayley intended to be ready for it.

H
AYLEY WALKED INTO
Harper House—ah, the blessed
cool
—with Lily on her hip. She set Lily on her feet, then dumped her purse and the diaper bag on the bottom step so they’d be handy for her to carry up. Up’s where she wanted to go. She wanted to shower for, oh, two or three days ought to do it, then drink an ice cold beer, straight down.

But before she did anything, she wanted Roz.

Even as she thought it, Roz came out of the parlor. She and Lily gave mutual cries of delight. Lily changed direction, and as she headed toward Roz, Roz closed the distance and scooped her up.

“There’s my sweet potato.” She gave Lily a fierce hug, nuzzled her neck, then with a grin for Hayley, looked back at the baby and listened with amazement to the excited and incomprehensible babbling. “Why, I can’t believe all that
happened in just one week! Don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here to catch me up on all the local gossip.” She grinned at Hayley again. “And how’s your mama?”

“I’m fine. I’m great.” Hayley dashed over to lock them both in a hug. “Welcome home. We missed you.”

“Good. I like being missed. And look at this.” She flipped her fingers over Hayley’s hair.

“I just did it. Just today. Woke up with a bug up my butt. Oh, you look so beautiful.”

“Listen to you.”

But it was true, always true. And now a weeklong honeymoon in the Caribbean had added a dewy glow to innate beauty. Sun had turned the creamy skin pale gold so that Roz’s long, dark eyes seemed even deeper. The short, straight hair capped a face with the sort of classic, timeless beauty Hayley knew she could only envy.

“I like that cut,” Roz commented. “It looks so young and easy.”

“Gave my morale a boost. Lily and I had a rough night. She got her shots yesterday.”

“Mmm.” Roz gave Lily an extra hug. “No fun there. Let’s see if we can make up for it. Come on in here, baby girl,” Roz said, snuggling Lily again as she went back in the parlor. “See what we got you.”

The first thing Hayley saw was a life-sized doll with a mop of red hair and a sweet and foolish smile.

“Oh, she’s so cute! And almost as big as Lily.”

“That was the idea. Mitch spotted her before I did, and nothing would do but we bring her home to Lily. What do you think, sweetie?”

Lily poked the doll in the eye a couple of times, pulled its hair, then was happy to sit on the floor and get acquainted.

“It’s the kind of doll she’ll name in a year or so, then keep in her room till college. Thank you, Roz.”

“We’re not done. There was this little shop, and they had the most adorable dresses.” She began to pull them out of the bag while Hayley goggled. Soft smocked cotton, ruched lace, embroidered denim. “And look at these rompers. Who could resist?”

“They’re wonderful. They’re beautiful. You’ll spoil her.”

“Well, of course.”

“I don’t know what to . . . She doesn’t have any grand—anybody to spoil her like this.”

Roz arched a brow, folded a romper. “You can say the G word, Hayley. I won’t faint in horror. I like to think of myself as her honorary grandmother.”

“I’m so lucky. We’re so lucky.”

“Then why are you tearing up?”

“I don’t know. All this stuff’s been going on in my head lately.” She sniffled, heeled a hand under her eyes to rub away the dampness. “Where I am, how I got here, how it might’ve been for us if I’d been on my own with Lily the way I thought I’d be.”

“Might’ve beens don’t get you very far.”

“I know. I’m just so glad I came to you. I was thinking last night that I should start looking for a place.”

“A place to what?”

“Live.”

“Something wrong with this place?”

“It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.” And here she was, Hayley Phillips from Little Rock, living in it, living in a house that had a parlor furnished with beautiful antiques and deep rich cushions, with generous windows that opened up to acres of more beauty.

“I was thinking I should look for a place, but I don’t want to. At least, well, not right now.” She looked down, watched Lily struggle to carry the doll around the room. “But I want you to tell me, and I know we’re good enough
friends that you will, when you want me to start looking.”

“All right. That settled then?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you want to see what we brought you?”

“I got something, too?” Hayley’s lake blue eyes went bright with anticipation. “I
love
presents. I’m not ashamed to say it.”

“I hope you like this one.” She took a box out of the bag, offered it.

Wasting no time, Hayley took off the top. “Oh, oh! They’re gorgeous.”

“I thought the red coral would suit you best.”

“I
love
them!” She took the earrings out of the box and holding them to her ears rushed to one of the antique mirrors on the wall to study how they looked. The trios of delicate and exotic red balls swayed from a glittery triangle of silver. “They’re wonderful. God, I have something from Aruba. I can’t believe it.”

She dashed back to give a chuckling Roz a hug. “They’re just beautiful. Thank you, thank you. I can hardly wait to wear them.”

“You can give them a test drive tonight if you want. Stella, Logan, and the boys will be over. David tells me we’re having a welcome-home dinner.”

“Oh, but you’ll be tired.”

“Tired? What am I, eighty? I just got back from vacation.”

“Honeymoon,” Hayley corrected with a smirk. “Bet you didn’t get a lot of rest either.”

“We slept in every morning, you smart-ass.”

“In that case, we’ll party. Lily and I’ll go upstairs and get ourselves all clean and pretty.”

“I’ll give you a hand up with all these things.”

“Thanks. Roz?” Everything inside her had settled down to a glow. “I’m really glad you’re home.”

I
T WAS SO
much fun to put on her new earrings, to dress Lily in one of her pretty new outfits, to fuss a little over both herself and her daughter. She shook her head just for the pleasure of feeling the way her hair fell and her earrings swung.

There now, she thought, not feeling dull and blah anymore. Since she was feeling celebratory, she capped it off with new shoes. The thin-heeled strappy black sandals were impractical and unnecessary. Which made them perfect.

“And they were on sale,” she told Lily. “Gotta say, they’ve got to be more fun than Prozac or whatever.”

It felt great to wear a dress—a short dress—and sexy shoes. A new haircut. Red lipstick.

She gave a turn for the mirror and struck a pose. Maybe she had a skinny build, but there was nothing much she could do about that. Still, she wore clothes pretty well, if she did say so. Kind of like a clothes hanger. Add new hair, new earrings, new shoes, and you had something.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe I’m back.”

D
OWNSTAIRS
, H
ARPER WAS
sprawled in a chair, sipping a beer and watching the way Mitch touched his mother—her hair, her arm—while they related some of the highlights of their trip for Logan and Stella and the boys.

He’d heard some of it already when he’d buzzed home for an hour that afternoon. He wasn’t really listening. He was just watching, and thinking it was good, it was time his mother had someone so obviously besotted with her.

He was happy for her—and relieved. No matter how
well his mother could take care of herself, and God knew she could do just that, it was a comfort to know she had a smart, able man at her side.

After what had happened last spring, if Mitch hadn’t moved in, he’d have done so himself. And that might’ve been a little sticky with Hayley living there.

It was more . . . comfortable, he decided, for everybody, if he continued to live in the carriage house. It might not have been much distance geographically, but psychologically it did the job.

“I told him he was crazy,” Roz continued, gesturing with her wine in one hand, patting the other on Mitch’s thigh. “Windsurfing? Why in God’s name would we want to teeter around on a little hunk of wood with a sail attached? But he just had to try it.”

“I tried it once.” Stella sat, her curling mass of red hair spilling over her shoulders. “Spring break in college. It was fun once I got the hang of it.”

“So I hear.” Mitch’s mutter had Roz grinning.

“He’d get up on the thing, and in two seconds, splash. Get up, and wait, I think he’s got it. Splash.”

“I had a defective board,” Mitch claimed, and poked Roz in the ribs.

“Of course you did.” Roz rolled her eyes. “One thing you can say about our Mitchell is he’s game. I don’t know how many times he hauled himself out of the drink and back on that board.”

“Six hundred and fifty-two.”

“How about you?” Logan, big and built and rugged beside Stella, gestured toward Roz with his beer.

“Oh, well, I don’t like to brag,” Roz said and examined her fingernails.

“Yes, she does.” Mitch gulped down club soda, stretched out his long, long legs. “Oh, yes, she does.”

“But I enjoyed the experience quite a lot.”

“She just . . .” Mitch sailed his hand through the air to illustrate. “Sailed off as if she’d been born on one of the damn things.”

“We Harpers do tend to have excellent athletic abilities and superior balance.”

“But she doesn’t like to brag,” Mitch pointed out, then glanced over at the click of heels on hardwood.

Harper did the same, and felt his reputed superior balance falter.

She looked frigging amazing. The skinny little red dress, the mile-high shoes combined to make her legs look endless. The sort of legs a man could imagine cruising over for miles and miles. Her hair was so damn sexy that way, and her mouth was all hot and red.

She had a baby on her hip, he reminded himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about what he’d like to do to that mouth, that body when she was carrying Lily. It had to be wrong.

Across the room, Logan let out a long, low whistle that had Hayley’s face lighting up.

“Hello, beautiful. You look good enough to eat. You look good, too, Hayley.”

At that, she gave one of those husky rolls of laughter, and hip-swayed over to drop Lily in Logan’s lap. “Just for that.”

“How about some wine?” Roz offered.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve been wanting a cold beer.”

“I’ll get it.” Harper all but sprang out of his chair, and was heading out of the parlor before she could respond. He hoped the trip to the kitchen and back would bring his blood pressure back to normal.

She was a cousin, sort of, he reminded himself. And an employee. His mother’s houseguest. A mother. Any one of
those reasons meant hands-off. Tally them up, and it put Hayley way off-limits. Added to that, she didn’t think of him that way, not even close.

A guy made a move on a woman under those circumstances, he was just asking to screw up a nice, pleasant friendship.

He got out a beer, got out a pilsner. As he was pouring, he heard the squeal, and the rapid clip of heels on wood. He glanced over and spotted Lily running, with Hayley scrambling behind her.

“She want a beer, too?”

With a laugh, Hayley started to scoop Lily up, only to have her baby girl go red in the face and arch away. “You. Like always.”

“That’s my girl.” He hoisted her up, gave her a toss. The mutinous little face went sugar sweet and bright with smiles. Pretending to pout, Hayley finished pouring her beer.

“Shows where I am in her pecking order.”

“You got the beer, I got the kid.”

Lily wrapped an arm around Harper’s neck, dipped her head to rest it on his cheek. Hayley nodded, lifted her glass. “Looks like.”

I
T WAS WONDERFUL
to have everyone around the table again, the whole Harper House family, as Hayley thought of them, sitting together, diving into David’s honey-glazed ham.

She’d missed having a big family. Growing up, it had been just Hayley and her father. Not that she’d felt deprived, she thought, not in any way. She and her father had been a team, a unit, and he was—had been—the kindest, funniest, warmest man she’d ever known.

But she’d missed having meals like this, a full table, lots
of voices—even the arguments and drama that went hand-in-hand in her mind with big families.

Lily would grow up with that, because Roz had welcomed them. So Lily would have a lifetime of meals like this one, full of aunts and uncles and cousins. Grandparents, she thought, stealing a glance toward Roz and Mitch. And when Roz’s other sons, or Mitch’s son, came to visit, it would just add to the rich family stew.

One day, Roz’s sons, and Mitch’s Josh, would get married. Probably have a herd of kids between them.

She shifted her gaze toward Harper and ordered herself to ignore the little ache that came from thinking of him married, making babies with some woman whose face she couldn’t see.

Of course, she’d be beautiful, that was a given. Probably blonde and built and blue-blooded. The bitch.

Whoever she turned out to be, whatever she looked like or
was
like, Hayley determined she’d make friends. Even if it killed her.

“Something wrong with the potatoes?” David murmured beside her.

“Hmm. No. They’re awesome.”

“Just wondered why you looked like you were forcing down some bad-tasting medicine, sugar.”

“Oh, just thought about something I’m going to have to do, and won’t like. Life’s full of them. But that doesn’t include eating these potatoes. In fact, I was wondering if you could show me how to cook some things. I can cook pretty good. Daddy and I split that chore, and we were both okay with the basics—I could even get a little fancy now and then. But Lily’s growing up on your cooking, so I ought to be able to fix it for her myself when need be.”

“Hmm, a kitchen apprentice. One I can mold into my own likeness. Love to.”

When Lily began to drop the bits of food still on her tray delicately to the floor, Hayley popped up. “Guess who’s done.”

“Gavin, why don’t you and Luke take Lily outside and play awhile?”

“Oh.” Hayley shook her head at Stella’s suggestion. “I don’t want them to have to mind her.”

“We can do it,” Gavin piped up. “She likes to chase the ball and the Frisbee.”