Page 3
JENNA
T he late afternoon sun warms my cheeks as I lead Blaise through the winding paths between my flower beds.
"These are my prize tulips." I gesture to the bright colorful blooms. "It’s difficult to keep the deer from eating them."
Blaise leans in close to examine one of the flowers, and the scent of his cologne mingles with the garden's perfume.
"The colors are brilliant." His fingers brush the petals with surprising gentleness for such strong hands. "You must spend hours out here."
"I do." A smile tugs at my lips. "It's my favorite place to be."
He straightens, and those intense green eyes lock onto mine. "I can see why. You've created something special."
My heart skips at the compliment. No one other than my mother has ever shown such genuine interest in my work before.
"The Bleeding Hearts are lovely too." I lead him down another path, hyperaware of his presence behind me.
“Bleeding hearts?”
“Yes. See.” I gently hold one of the blooms. “They look like bleeding hearts.”
“Sort of macabre, isn’t it?” There’s a flash of something dark in his eyes that has me stepping back from him. As if he realizes it, he smiles. “You really know your stuff." His shoulder brushes mine as he examines the plant.
I decide I misread that earlier expression. He’s smiling now, and I realize that I’m staring back like a silly lovesick girl because he really is exceptionally handsome.
It feels surreal having someone actually listen, actually care about the things that matter to me. I point out more details about various plants and bushes in the garden. Each time, he asks thoughtful questions that show he's really paying attention.
"Anyone who can bring this much beauty into the world deserves to be taken out somewhere nice." Blaise's voice drops lower, more intimate. "What do you say to dinner with me tonight?"
My breath catches. The invitation is unexpected and thrilling. But Ronan's face flashes through my mind. He’s the man I’ve wanted to show the garden to, the man I’ve always admired. The man who’s never noticed me.
"I…" My fingers twist together. "That's very kind of you."
"I sense a 'but' coming." Blaise takes a step closer, and I catch another whiff of his cologne. "Is there someone else?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "No, not exactly. I mean…" How do I explain my feelings for someone who doesn't even know I exist?
"Then let me take you out. Nothing fancy. Just dinner and conversation." His smile softens. "I promise to have you home at a reasonable hour."
I glance toward the main house where somewhere inside, Ronan is probably in another important meeting, making decisions that affect everyone's lives. He's never once stopped to ask about my flowers, never noticed how I arrange fresh bouquets in his office every Monday morning.
"Okay. Yes, I'd like that."
Blaise's entire face lights up. "Yeah? Seven, then?"
I nod, and my heart does a little flip when he grins wider.
"I'll pick you up at your cottage.”
I nod again, a little worried that I look like a loon.
“Tonight, then.”
As I watch him walk away, I’m filled with a mix of excitement and guilt.
For years, since I was a girl, I've held on to this fairy tale dream of Ronan, but maybe it's time to face reality. Debbie is right. Even if Ronan were interested in me, it wouldn’t be anything serious. I’d be another one of his many conquests.
But Blaise, the way his eyes light up as I share my work, how he listens to me… In fifteen minutes, he showed more care for my passion than Ronan has in all the years I’ve known him. Maybe it's time to stop watering dead soil and plant something new. Something real.
"Miss Hart?" One of the kitchen staff calls from the back door. "Phone call for you. It's about tomorrow's nursery delivery."
Yep, time to move on.
I finish my work for the day and then take the gravel path that winds to the cottage Mom and I live in. Mom's flowers line the walkway, her signature touch from better days when she could still tend them herself.
When I enter the small home, Mom is in her favorite chair, a half-finished crossword puzzle in her lap. Her face lights up when I walk in, but I catch the slight wheeze in her breath.
"Did you take your medication?" I drop my bag and kneel beside her chair.
"Yes, dear." She pats my hand. "All three doses, right on schedule. The new prescription seems to be helping."
I study her face. The color in her cheeks looks better today, though dark circles still rim her eyes. "How's your breathing?"
"Much easier." She shifts in her chair, reaching for her tea. "I even managed to fold that basket of laundry earlier."
"Mom!" I grab the cup before she can strain herself. "You're supposed to be resting. I would have done that when I got home."
Her laugh turns into a small cough. Maybe going on a date isn’t such a good idea.
"I'm not an invalid, Jenna. Besides, sitting around all day drives me crazy. I miss being out there with you, helping with the gardens."
"I know." I hand her the tea. "But the doctor said?—”
"The doctor says a lot of things." She sips her tea. "You worry too much, sweetheart. I'm feeling stronger every day."
I rest my head against hers. "Someone has to worry about you."
"And you do it so well." She squeezes my hand. "But you need to live your own life too, not just take care of your old mother."
"You're not old." I kiss her cheek. "And there's nowhere else I'd rather be."
I’m certain she’s putting on a brave face. Life is a struggle for her. It’s frustrating that I can’t make it easier for her. Medicine, with all its advances, doesn’t seem to help much either.
Mom sets down her tea. "I noticed the new landscaping near the east wing. The Keans really are investing in the estate."
"They are." I rise, rethinking my date for tonight. "Mrs. Kean approved all my proposals for the spring planting. She’s even increased the budget when I mentioned wanting to recreate some of the designs from before the fire."
Mom's expression softens. "The Ifrinns had such beautiful gardens."
“Well, of course they did. You tended them.”
“With your help.” She sighs. “But the Keans have been so good to us, letting us continue to stay in this cottage, keeping me on as head gardener, and then passing the job to you.”
“They were good to all of us,” I agree. Mr. Kean made sure all the staff could keep their positions if they wanted. Not many would do that.
“He’s done a good job honoring his friend’s legacy,” she says wistfully. “I hope Mr. and Mrs. Ifrinn are resting in peace.”
I don’t like thinking about the fire ten years ago.
It seems inconceivable that the large, solid home could burn to the ground, just like it didn’t seem possible that a larger than life family could perish.
I can remember like yesterday watching the flames from the cottage.
There’d been running and screaming as I watched the house burn.
So many people died. Mr. and Mrs. Ifrinn.
Staff we’d worked with. Friends who’d been staying over.
Then there was the sad news about the Ifrinn boys.
They’d all been home, but their bodies were never found.
Sometimes, I wonder if they got away. Other times, I wonder if they set the fire.
I remind myself of what the Ifrinns lost and how lucky I am that my mom is still here with me. She’s all I have in the world.
"We're lucky," I say softly, taking her hand. "After everything that happened, we landed somewhere good."
She squeezes my hand. “We’re very lucky, indeed.”
Neither of us speaks for a moment. Finally, I say, “I have a date.”
Her eyes light up. “Really? Ronan?—”
“No. It’s with someone new here on staff.”
I think I see relief in her eyes. Like Debbie, Mom thinks it’s time for me to accept the truth that Ronan won’t ever see me as more than the gardener. “Is he handsome?”
Blaise’s green eyes flash in my mind. “Yes.” I feel the heat of a blush in my cheeks. “And he enjoyed my tour of the gardens.”
“A man after my own heart. You have a lovely time tonight, Jenna. Don’t worry about your old mom.”
I kiss her temple. “It’s just dinner. I won’t be gone long.” I head to my room, all of a sudden nervous. What should I wear?
Twenty minutes later, I’m checking my reflection in the hallway mirror. The soft green fabric is comfortable but nice, and I've let my curls down from their usual practical tie.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Mom beams from her chair. "Now go, and have a good time.”
As if on cue, a knock comes to the door. My heartbeat cranks up to a million. I open the door to find Blaise in dark jeans and a fitted blue button-down that makes his green eyes pop.
"Wow." His gaze travels appreciatively over my dress. "You clean up nice, flower girl."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "You too. Very different from your work clothes."
He shrugs. “I hope you don’t mind? A suit feels too much like work.”
“Nope, I don’t mind at all.”
He escorts me out to a waiting car and we head out to the city. I can't remember the last time I left the grounds for something other than shopping for necessities or Mom's doctor appointments.
“Do you go out for fun often?” Blaise asks from the driver’s seat.
"No.”
He glances at me. “Why not?”
I shrug. “No opportunity, I guess.” I don’t want to give him my sob story about having to take care of my mom and not having time for fun.
Or that I’m not a woman men generally take an interest in.
Not that I’m ugly or lacking in personality.
I think I’m just too… blah, uninteresting.
It sort of makes me wonder what Blaise sees in me.
We park near the waterfront, and Blaise leads me down cobblestone streets I knew about but had never explored. He points out little gems, a tiny bookstore tucked between restaurants, a cafe famous for its cannoli.
"How do you know all these places?" I ask as we pass an antiques shop.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3 (Reading here)
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40