Spring Flowers, Summer Love

Tobias nudged his nose under Connor’s hand, gargling a noise somewhere deep in his throat.

“You want to go for a walk?” Connor translated. The dog woofed his agreement. “You’ll get filthy again and I’ll have to bathe you again.”

Tobias didn’t have a problem with that. His tail thumped the floor eagerly.

“Go get your leash, then. I think we’re having company for dinner.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” Rowena murmured as she tossed the salad.

“What? Thaw out some meat?” Connor grinned. It changed him from a severe-looking boss to a cohort in this scheme. “Not so hard. But you should know that’s all I’m doing because I don’t cook. You’re totally on your own.”

“Not a hardship. It’s a dream kitchen,” she murmured, glancing at the gleaming stainless steel surrounding them. “A bit intimidating, though.”

A burst of laughter from the room across the hall interrupted.

“Sounds like they found a good show to watch.”

“It was nice of you to let them. I think it’s been a while since they’ve had much time to just enjoy each other. Kent told me the business they ran together went under. That’s hard on a relationship.”

“Where are they staying?”

“Above the florist.” She shrugged. “It’s probably a little cramped but at least they’re dry and close to work. Quint told me that when it warms up he wouldn’t mind camping out.”

“Why?” Connor shuddered. “I camped out once. I remember it vividly.”

“Once?” She giggled. “Wow! Mr. Worldly.”

He shrugged. “I don’t do nature. Numbers are my thing. The stock market’s always been my element.”

“But you sold your business.” Rowena blushed, turning away to study the steaks sizzling on the grill. “Your uncles mentioned it.”

“I wish now that I hadn’t,” he admitted quietly.

“Why?” The potatoes were finished so she switched off the oven. Connor had set places at the kitchen table. Everything was almost ready, and he still hadn’t answered.

Too late she remembered his fiancée.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was too personal.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just that since Cecile’s death, I’m not sure what to do next. I’m in this kind of limbo state. No good for someone like me,” he explained with a self-derisive laugh. “I need to be busy.”

“I imagine Wingate Manor will take care of that once the season starts.”

“I guess. It’s the future that I was thinking about.”

“Only God knows what comes next for any of us.” She smiled to encourage him. “You’ll have to talk to Him about it, though I’m not sure He always gives us the whole picture. In my own case all He usually lets me see is into the next day. Sometimes that’s enough, don’t you think?”

Connor tossed her a veiled look that hid whatever he was thinking. Judging by the downturn of his mouth, they were not happy thoughts.

“Dinner’s ready. Will you get the others?”

They made a boisterous group. Father and son teased each other without rancor, setting a light note for the meal. Soon barely a crumb was left, which made Rowena feel good. It had been a long while since she’d cooked, and never in a kitchen as well-appointed as this.

“That was great!” Quint smirked a cheeky grin. “If this landscaping thing doesn’t work out for you, Rowena, maybe you could hire on here as a chef.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.”

“What’s not to work out?” Kent snorted as he gathered their plates. “She’s got degrees in horticulture, has won more than fifteen awards, including some big-name trophy for a rose garden gig she did in England.” He turned to glance at Rowena. “Right?”

“The Chelsea Flower Show,” she admitted, surprised by his knowledge. “How did you know?”

“My son’s the television addict, not me. Serenity Bay has a library and they have a computer linked to the Internet.” He shrugged. “I checked you out, wanted to see where else besides Toronto you’d worked.”

“Oh.” She hid her surprise.

“Dad has a thing for England. My mom was from there. I told my wife we’d spend our twenty-fifth anniversary there. Tell us more about it, Rowena.”

“Well, it happens in May when the grounds of the Royal Hospital in Chelsea come alive with the finest collections of flowers in the world.” She could close her eyes and smell those heady fragrances even now. Rowena could have so easily stayed in England, continued her work there—if it hadn’t been that her father needed her here.

She realized Connor was staring, so she hurried on.

“The show gardens are created by some of the world’s leading garden designers.”

“Sounds pricey,” Connor mumbled.

“Not necessarily.” She thought of a daisy garden that had won awards several years earlier and immediately wondered if the idea would work in the roughest terrain here at Wingate. “I came away with memories that still awe me. It’s the best place for inspiration.”

They sat silent for a moment, then Kent resumed clearing the dishes, assisted by Connor.

“My wife loves flower gardens. Losing the business almost broke her. I hope she gets to see Chelsea one day.” Quint’s words were so quiet Rowena wasn’t sure the others heard.

“I’m sure she will. You seem like a person with a lot of determination.”

“So do you. Getting the nursery running—that’s a mighty big goal.”

“I guess. I’m hoping my dad will move back soon, and be able to help out a little.”

Conscious of Connor listening intently to their conversation, Rowena decided to change the subject from her personal life. But Quint wasn’t finished.

“The place wasn’t kept up very well,” he said. “The trees—most of them wouldn’t meet retail standards. You’re basically starting from scratch.”

“I know.” There was no point in denying the obvious. Rowena shrugged. “But hard work doesn’t scare me.”

“Good thing. You’re going to have lots of it.” He moved to help the others with the dishes.

“You look tired.” Connor handed her a cup of coffee, spoke to father and son. “Since we cooked, we’re going to watch TV while you guys clean up.”

“If you’re sure we won’t break anything,” Kent teased.