Page 191

Shortly, the men, hands in pockets, stood studying the weeping tree with its thick, curved branches and delicate pink blossoms.

And exchanged a look.

“I’ll get the ladder.”

When Owen trudged off to the garage, Sonya and Cleo went back to planting.

She’d helped her mother—a little—planting things in the spring, Sonya remembered. And she’d done a little more at her condo. But nothing, she thought as she dug, to this extent.

She liked it more than she’d anticipated.

Not just the pots, which had been blank canvases, but now digging in the ground, filling in canvases already begun by another hand.

She worked on Anna’s suggestions while Cleo focused on the herbs and vegetables.

More taking ownership.

The dogs wandered front to back, as if supervising light stringing and planting, while the cat curled up on the deck to take a nap in the sun.

When the men came around to add lights to the deck, she simply filled with happiness. She sat back on her heels, swiped a gloved hand over her forehead, and left a smear of soil behind.

Owen stopped by Cleo. Sonya couldn’t hear the words, but a moment later, Owen shook his head. He walked to the garden shed, then came out with a bag of something he took to her.

She’d reached the end of the bed, noted Cleo worked in another spot, when Owen and Trey walked to her.

“Done,” Owen said.

“It’s going to look great. Any lights left over?”

“You bought enough to light up half the forest,” Trey pointed out.

“I was just thinking, if there’s enough, there’s that kind of pergola with the big, twisty vines?”

“Wisteria.”

She looked up at Owen, smeared more dirt on her face. “Is it? I know wisteria—the blooms anyway. They’re gorgeous! Maybe, since we have them, we could put lights there.”

Trey didn’t bother to sigh. “I’ll get the ladder.”

“What was in the bag you took to Cleo?”

“Epsom salts.”

Frowning, she rose, stretched her back. “Like what you put in the bath for aches—which I may do later?”

“That, and what you add to the soil when you plant tomatoes, peppers, other stuff. Magnesium,” he added. “They want it.”

“Oh.”

“Did you mix up deer spray?”

“Not yet.”

“If you don’t want to look out here tomorrow and see stumps, mix it, spray it.”

“All right, but some of what we got is deer resistant.”

Owen said, “Uh-huh,” and walked over to study the pergola.