Spring Flowers, Summer Love. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t want someone else’s kingdom. I’m going to get my own back. You two already know that.” Rowena leaned back, closed her eyes and wondered if she’d finally bit off more than she could chew.

      “Maybe you’d better explain what coming back to the Bay has to do with Wingate Manor.”

      “The Wingate brothers hired me to redo the Manor’s landscape.” She leaned forward, a picture forming in her mind. “You know how they’re always trying to expand their reputation, be more than a fine place to dine or host wedding receptions and anniversary parties?”

      “Of course.” Piper frowned. “Henry’s held garden tours for the last two years. And now Wingate hosts summer stock performances for a couple of months. They have a great space for private birthday parties, too.”

      “Last year they started patio barbecues,” Ashley added.

      “They’re going to expand even more.” Excitement skittered up and down Rowena’s spine. “They intend to reorganize the patio spaces for more private functions, make a tearoom to generate afternoon traffic from the garden tours—lots of new things.”

      “Wow. I’ve heard rumors but nothing of this scope.” Piper was probably thinking how this would impact the town. As economic development officer, Piper liked to know about everything that affected Serenity Bay.

      “Michael and I went there for dinner not long ago,” Ashley told them. “The chef is fabulous. But how do their plans affect you, Row?”

      “I came up with an idea to revamp the grounds, make them an attraction in and of themselves. Henry wants fountains, little vistas where artists can paint, a summerhouse where the horticultural society can meet, or rent for private parties. Once I’m finished, Wingate will offer the perfect backdrop for couples to take their wedding pictures, winter and summer.”

      “It sounds like it will cost the earth,” Pip mused.

      “That’s the best part.”

      “You’ve got a funny look on your face, Rowena. Spill it.”

      “I’ve agreed to handle the landscaping in exchange for the land once owned by Davis Nurseries.”

      “So you are moving back!” Ashley crowed.

      “Next January, yes.”

      Piper frowned. “Wait a minute. This revamp—it’s coming out of your pocket?”

      Rowena nodded. “I get the land free and clear in exchange for the job.”

      “Which means you’ll quit at Yelland Gardens.”

      “Yes. If everything at Wingate comes together as I’ve planned, I can decide whether or not to return to my old job later.” Their doubts echoed her own. “The opportunity to get the land back was there. I couldn’t ignore it.”

      “Because of your father,” Piper murmured.

      “Yes. If I can just get him back on the land, I’m sure he’ll finally be able to shake off this depression. It’s my fault Dad had to sell Davis Nurseries’ land to the Wingate brothers for pennies on the dollar. It’s my duty to get it back.”

      “But how are you going to pay for it, find workers, the equipment?”

      “I’m not saying it will be easy. But I am going to do it.”

      Ashley hugged her. “If you need any help, you just ask.”

      Ashley—with her elegant hair, three-inch heels and designer clothes—up a tree, limbing? Rowena had to smile.

      “I mean it.” Ash’s gray eyes pinned her. “I’m here for you, Rowena. You’re my friend and I want to help.”

      “Thank you both. In the meantime, does our annual birthday bash include food? I’m starved.”

      “You’re always starved.” Piper rose, headed for the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

      Rowena let herself daydream of better days and a thriving nursery. It would be that way again, she promised herself. And it would be worth giving up her career for. It had to be.

      “Moving back is perfect, of course,” Ashley mused. “It will be wonderful to have both you and Pip nearby. But I think it would be even nicer if you could meet someone.”

      Rowena tucked her ragged nails under her thighs and wished she’d found something more stylish than jeans and a T-shirt for the weekend. “Forget it.”

      “I’m going to pray about it.” The glint in Piper’s eye promised she’d do exactly as she said.

      “Me, too,” Ash agreed. “You just never know what God has in store.”

      Rowena opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. She knew what lay ahead: months of backbreaking work at Wingate Manor and sweat equity in a nursery left untended too long—with nary a prince in sight.

      But that was exactly what she owed her father.

      Chapter One

      Wingate Manor had never looked so pathetic.

      Well, not the actual house. The stone structure built by some wealthy industrialist as a lavish vacation villa in the 1920s stood enduringly solid and sturdy. But the grounds were a disaster.

      Connor Wingate stepped out of his BMW, closed the door and winced as his Italian loafers sunk deep into the mud.

      “Why did I agree to this?” he asked himself out loud.

      Because the uncles took care of you when you needed it and it’s time to reciprocate.

      Connor shut down the voice of his conscience, glanced sideways at the yapping dog with his face pressed against the passenger’s window and shook his head. No way was he letting Tobias run free in this muck. He’d be filthy in two seconds flat. Ignoring the animal, he turned his attention back to his surroundings.

      Winter had caused much of the damage. The ice storm Uncle Hank had mentioned was probably responsible for felling those big oaks behind the house. He saw evidence that lightning had sheared off a massive pine he’d once climbed. There were also signs that something combined with gravity had helped sag the flower beds.

      But the marks on the spruce trunks in front of him were not caused by weather. Those trunks had been chipped at by an ax.

      “A very dull ax,” he muttered grimly, aghast at the damage.

      A small shed stood to one side of the house. The place where his uncles kept a stock of firewood to supply Wingate’s charming but voracious fireplaces lay completely barren when it was usually bursting with logs ready to burn.

      “It’s a mess, isn’t it?”

      He wheeled around and found himself staring into a pair of almond-shaped hazel eyes fringed by the longest lashes he’d ever seen. He was quite sure they weren’t artificial, given that the woman’s only makeup was a streak of mud decorating СКАЧАТЬ