Hope's Garden Read online

Intensely aware of her, Gage focused on the steaks browning over the fire, savoring the succulent aroma of hot beef while he thought about her words. But that same old sensation of distance from his parents cropped up inside him. “I don’t think my parents have ever understood Harry’s need to express himself creatively.”

  “Maybe they just don’t know what that feels like.” She motioned toward the garden. “Before she died, my mother planned out this garden. My father followed her plan. When I was in fourth grade, I started scribbling garden designs on the margins of school papers. That pleased my dad, but not my teachers.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “Dad said I had my mother’s gift. Maybe your parents just don’t have it.” Cat’s face tilted upward with an earnest expression.

  Had his parents ever tried to understand Harry?

  “I think your mother is afraid of losing you—of losing both of her sons.”

  Gage considered this. “Possibly.” He glanced at the gazebo. “This project could be the turning point for Harry. A chance for him to create something solid.”

  “I know. It’s good for Hope’s Garden, too. Did you realize this opens a whole new vein of business to us?” She wrinkled her lightly freckled nose at him.

  He gave her a knowing smile. “Really? You don’t say?”

  Cat punched his arm. “I’ll never believe that dumb act so don’t try it. As soon as we finish this, you will have something different up your sleeve.”

  To tease her, he looked up the sleeve of his green work shirt. “No! Nothing there!”

  “Stop that!” She tugged his shirt.

  Gage reached out and pulled her ponytail.

  “You two,” Chuck shouted from the gazebo, “concentrate on those steaks! I don’t want my Iowa prime cornfed beef burned!”

  Cat turned bright red.

  Thanks, Chuck, Gage groused.

  Before long, everyone filled a plate. They sat around eating, joking. Evening shaded the sky lavender, then deep purple. The neon-green lightning bugs flashed and darted around the gazebo. Cat closed her eyes, listening to the hum of voices around her. Life is good, Lord. Thank you for making this Hadley project possible. Please help us do a good job.

  She glanced around at the assortment of friends relaxing in the gazebo and smiled. Hetty had never been able to adapt herself to the Hope’s Garden work shirt and shorts. She wore a gauzy, multicolored sundress and dangling earrings. Her friend, Jo, with blond hair so short it could be called a buzz cut, had at least five gold loops in one ear. Aunt Bet wore jeans and a T-shirt that read, Quilters Have Many Layers. A varied, but very happy group gathered in the old gazebo.

  Her gaze lingered on her partner. He still remained a mystery. Why did his voice soften when he spoke of his old boss, Manny? Did he still care about the fiancée who’d broken up with him? He’d let his black-walnut-colored hair grow a bit longer. It touched the back of his collar. She imagined running her fingers through its silky texture. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Chuck?” The note of concern in Laurette’s voice grabbed Cat’s attention.

  The voices stilled.

  “What?” Chuck was already on his feet.

  “I think I just had a contraction.”

  Chuck moved instantly into action. “Cat, call the hospital. Tell them I’m bringing Laurette in!”

  After spending most of the night sitting beside her phone, the next morning Cat glanced down, bleary-eyed, at her desk at the nursery. The list of duties she had to take care of today looked overwhelming and she had no heart, no enthusiasm. Oh, Lord, protect Laurette’s baby. Please.

  She’d prayed this same prayer all night long. Chuck had finally called near dawn and said the irregular, faint contractions had stopped, but Laurette would remain in the hospital for another twenty-four hours at least. The doctor wanted to be sure the crisis had passed.

  Chuck had tried to sound hopeful. The baby couldn’t come this early and survive without serious complications to the child. Lord, give the baby time. Please keep the contractions from starting again.

  Sighing, she picked up a note written in Gage’s large scrawl: “Gone to deliver stock to Myer.”

  “No,” Cat said out loud. She had wanted to do that delivery herself. Myer, a local contractor, was a sticky customer. Why was it that some days nothing went easy?

  “Morning.” Hetty’s voice floated inside. “I brought Jo with me.”

  Cat recognized Hetty’s friend, who Harry had kept his eye on throughout the gazebo celebration. Cat recalled that Hetty had mentioned Jo, an art major, made something they could sell at the nursery. “Hello, did you bring some of your work?”

  “Yes.” Jo looked eager, but nervous.

  “Outside?”

  The young woman nodded.

  Cat cast one more worried look at Gage’s note, then she followed them outside. Beside Hetty’s small foreign car, the young artist had stacked a collection of copper images mounted on narrow three-foot-high poles. “Why don’t you bring them out and display them in front of the plants, so we can see how they would look in gardens?”

  Jo arranged the bright copper images—a sunflower, a pair of robins, a row of birdhouses, a penguin, a stylized man in tuxedo and sporting a monocle, among the plants. In spite of her fatigue and worry, Cat recognized their quality. “These are wonderful!”

  “Do you really like them?” Jo asked, looking doubtful.

  “Yes! I want the man in a tuxedo for my garden. What a hoot!”

  Jo grinned and blushed.

  Hetty put an arm around the young artist. “I told you, didn’t I? She was so afraid you wouldn’t like them. Now she can make money to continue her serious sculpture.”

  “I love them. How many do you have?”

  Jo said, “It’s Hetty’s idea. I’ve made just these six designs, but I can make more.”

  “Let’s go in and write up and sign a consignment agreement. They will sell like crazy.” Cat made her voice enthusiastic though she still felt flat and teary inside.

  Cat was bidding Jo goodbye when Gage drove in. She went to meet him. Gage looked as though he hadn’t slept at all—gray smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep. I must look dragged out, too. But she didn’t care. She brought her mind back to the topic at hand. “You did the Myer delivery?”

  “Right.” He opened the white delivery truck door and got down. “I arrived early and decided to get it done for you. You didn’t get much sleep last night either, I see.”

  For just a second, Cat nearly leaned her face into Gage’s chest for comfort. Fighting this, she nodded. “Did you remember to get payment upon delivery?”

  “Yes, you mentioned that in passing last night.”

  She held out her hand, struggling against the urge to take comfort from touching Gage.

  From his pocket, he drew a check.

  She took the check and frowned. “Darn.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was afraid he would try to palm a check off on you.” Her somber mood took a nose dive. Not today, Lord. I’m just not up to this.

  “Afraid?”

  “You couldn’t have known,” she said in a weary voice. “We never take checks from Myer. He always operates on the edge.”

  “The job looked pretty substantial—”

  “Well, he might have the money this time,” she conceded. She turned and walked to the office with Gage at her heels. Inside, she dialed the bank. “Hello, give me bookkeeping please.” Pause. “Hi, this is Cat Simmons. Would you please check Myer’s account number 05213 and see if there is enough to cover a check for over a thousand dollars?” A pause. “Thank you.” She looked up at Gage. “He has just closed that account.”

  Gage groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “A bad debt.”

  Cat stared at the check. Her mood hit rock bottom. Tears welled up inside her. She had no stamina today. “A truckload of shrubs and trees, right?”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. He said he had done business with your fam
ily for years.”

  “Only cash business.” She had no choice. “Okay. I’ll go back with you. This will put us behind schedule, but that can’t be helped.” She came around the desk.

  Gage caught her arm. “You don’t mean to go back there and reload the stock, do you?”

  Startled, she halted. His fingers electrified her arm. She made herself pull away. “Of course, I do. Hetty can take care of things here.”

  “All companies carry bad debts. We’ll just take it off our taxes.”

  She stared at him. “We don’t do business that way,” she spaced her words out evenly. “I have never cheated anyone out of a dime, and I won’t allow myself to be cheated, either. What kind of business reputation do you want to have in this town? Don’t think this won’t be a mark against you. It will.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This is a small county. If you intend to go ahead with that golf course, you’d better not be seen as an easy mark. And Myer is just the man to let it be known.”

  He made a sound of disgust. “I hadn’t thought of that. Okay. Let’s go.”

  She handed him the check, careful not to brush fingertips. Why did she feel vulnerable today? Distance, she needed distance or she’d collapse into his arms and embarrass them both. “You’ll do all the talking. Give him back the check. Tell him you weren’t aware that Hope’s Garden only deals in cash with him.” She kept her eyes lowered. “Tell him we want cash or we reload the stuff. If he argues, give me the signal and we’ll start loading.”

  He nodded, his face drooping with disgust.

  Of all the days to have to deal with Myer. She felt like dumping a bucket of cold water over the man. How dare he try to cheat Gage! And today of all days! She marched out to the truck.

  Gage drove them away. Within minutes, he passed the entrance sign to the new subdivision, Eden Village, east of town. This was no Paradise Hills. The village showed modest raised-ranches at various stages of construction.

  Gage parked in front of the office in the model home and they got out. He was very aware of Cat close beside him. He recognized the worry in the way she held herself. He longed to put an arm around her, but it wouldn’t be right. He hated that something like this happened today of all days. Myer had upset Cat. It galled Gage.

  Myer stepped out of the office with customers. “Well, you two look over those plans and decide which model you like best.”

  Gage noted the moment Myer’s eyes detected Cat. For one second, the man froze. Then he switched back into charming and hustled the couple to their car and waved them off.

  He turned to face Cat and Gage with an artificial smile stretched over his beefy face. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Did you forget to leave something?”

  Very smooth, Myer, but now I see your true colors. “This morning I wasn’t aware that Hope’s Garden only does business on a cash basis with Myer Contracting.”

  Myer tried to laugh. It fell flat.

  Gage handed the man his check back. “Cash please.”

  Myer refused to take it and grinned at Cat. “Cat, you know I did business with your dad for—”

  “Cash.” Cat’s sober expression didn’t change.

  Appealing to Cat, thinking she’d give in because she was a woman angered Gage. Gage stepped forward and shoved the folded check into Myer’s breast pocket. “Cash or we load up the stock.”

  The man’s neck turned beet red.

  “Which will it be?” Holding his anger with a tight rein, Gage flexed, then tightened his fists.

  “There is nothing wrong with this check!” Myer blustered.

  “She called the bank.” Gage folded his arms.

  The change that came over Myer was almost ludicrous. The man folded up like a tent. He went back into his office.

  Gage looked to Cat.

  “He will be back with the cash,” she murmured.

  Her words were true. Myer came back. Without a word, he thrust a wad of bills in Gage’s breast pocket. He marched back into his office and slammed the door behind himself.

  “Count it,” Cat said.

  Gage did. “It’s all here.”

  Cat looked around at the garden stock. “I don’t understand him. For an extra ten percent, he could have hired us to put everything in, but he’ll hire someone who does a bad job. He’ll neglect to water them and lose about a fourth of the stock. I don’t get it.”

  Gage shrugged. He had begun to make plans to put down roots in Eden. He wanted to build a solid life here. This incident had played up his weakness. It had been his parents talking when he said take the bad debt as a tax credit. But money hadn’t been the issue here. Respect was. Integrity was. With Cat, issues stayed clear.

  He felt he had been weighed in the balance and found wanting—though Cat would never throw it up in his face.

  Cat looked glum. “Let’s go. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

  He walked to the truck and opened Cat’s door for her. He desperately wished he could make up for his blunder.

  Inside, she snapped open her cell phone. “Hello, Chuck, how is Laurette?”

  Easing behind the wheel, Gage listened intently to one side of the brief conversation. When she hung up, he asked, “What did he say?”

  “She’s heavily sedated. She’s not supposed to have visitors. He’s going into his office for a while, then back to the hospital.”

  Gage nodded glumly. Would God protect Laurette and Chuck’s baby? Were his prayers heard? Manny had told him so. His mood was low not only with worry for Chuck and Laurette, but it was sobering to fall short of Cat’s standards of behavior. One thing he’d learned to count on was Cat’s kindness. She wouldn’t hold an honest mistake against him. “Cat, after we’ve finished planting at the Crenshaws’, I’d like to show you something.”

  “What?”

  He cleared his throat. “Some land I’m interested in for the golf course.”

  “Great.”

  He wanted to establish a respected business. But what about his larger goal? Manny had said, “Seek God first and everything else will fall into place.” But how did a man do that?

  Back at the nursery, the busy morning proceeded. After a lunch he didn’t have an appetite for, Gage drove up the driveway to the Crenshaws’ white Georgian with Cat beside him. The bright July sunlight glistened over the fashionable subdivision, a world away from Eden. In the middle of a working day, Paradise Hill was vacant, silent. No grandmothers out walking dogs or mothers weeding gardens with daughters. No grandfathers reading the newspaper on porches or mowing lawns. No children screeching as they ran through a lawn sprinkler. No toys or tools left outside. It looked like a movie set waiting for the cast and crew.

  “Nice job on the showcase circle of white geraniums, Dusty Miller and roses in the front. I expected to hear ‘Pomp and Circumstance’ as we drove in,” Cat said. Her words were light, but her dead tone revealed her continued worry over Laurette.

  “Sam said she wanted formal.”

  “And she got formal.”

  He parked, and they both carried several six-inch pots of perennials and flats of flowering bedding plants to the patio in the rear. The sun heated the top of Gage’s head and shoulders. Cat looked exhausted, but he knew better than to suggest she sit down on one of the wooden chairs on the patio. Cat always carried her share of the load, no matter what.

  Side by side, they knelt and began planting the stock Cat had chosen, Autumn Joy sedum for green in summer and deep red in the fall, purple and white petunias and lavender alyssum for summer color, and Bleeding Heart for springtime accent. Even under the hot sun, the task normally would have had him whistling, but not today. Call us, Chuck. Tell us what’s going on at the hospital.

  “Nice.” Cat sat back on her heels looking depleted from the heat and probably the anxiety, too. “Let’s get them watered.”

  Gage nodded. Sweat trickled down his back. His leg ached from kneeling.

  Taking out a blue bandanna from
her pocket, Cat wiped her face and neck with it, then resettled her dark-green cap on her sun-gilded hair.

  Cat’s cell phone rang. Rising, she flipped it open. “Yes?” She nodded and mouthed, “Chuck” to him. “Right. I see. Okay.”

  Impatiently, he struggled to his feet and waited until she shut the phone. “What did Chuck say?”

  “The doctor has decided to do a minor surgery this afternoon to help prevent premature delivery.”

  “Will it help?” He tried to read her face for more.

  “The doctor says she just has a…I forget the term, but it means her uterus just doesn’t want to hold the baby very well.”

  Feeling a bit uncomfortable with this subject, Gage wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I hope this works.”

  “Well, she’s almost done with her second trimester. If she can make it another eight weeks, the doctor said the baby should be premature, but not too early.”

  His heart went out to Chuck. Gage’s gut twisted. “Makes sense.” He nearly touched her cheek to comfort her. Why couldn’t he think of something cheerful to add?

  Cat nodded, but looked near tears again. “Would you pray with me about this?”

  The thought shocked him, but he managed to sound calm when he spoke, “If you think it will help.”

  “God said wherever two or more are gathered in his name, He’d be there.”

  “I don’t like to pray out loud.” His gut did a double twist and cinched together. Pain.

  “We can pray silently. Will you hold my hand?”

  He took her hand and felt that tug to hold her close. Next to him, she looked small and soft, but she drew strength from her faith. That much he’d discovered since coming to Eden.

  She bowed her head and he did, also. Silently he prayed for Laurette and her baby and for his friend Chuck. Did prayer really work? Or did it just make a person feel better?

  Cat whispered, “Amen.” She looked up and smiled at him. “Let’s get this job done.”

  Gage still didn’t know the answers to his questions, but he knew he did feel better and that Cat looked calmer again. In his memory, he heard Manny’s low voice, “Never doubt God’s power.” Lord, I want to know You have power.