Spring Flowers, Summer Love. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ this time. Then she thought she heard a voice. Somebody was out there.

      Rowena set down her knife and moved to the door. She glanced at the dog. His head was up, his ears perked. A low growl rumbled from his throat.

      “Quiet now, Tobias,” she murmured. She dragged on her coat, pulled up the hood, switched off the lights then yanked open the door.

      The night was dark. She’d deliberately left the yard light off to save on power. But a ripple of lightning illuminated two figures racing away from her. A moment later they disappeared behind the greenhouse structure which the Wingates had erected years earlier.

      Rowena walked to the end of the planting shed, aware that the dog padded along beside her. But though she watched in the pouring rain for several minutes, she saw no one else.

      “Probably teenagers sneaking back from Lookout Point,” she mused. Turned back toward the shed, she stopped.

      “You’d better go home, Tobias. Your master is probably wondering where you are.”

      The brown tail swished happily back and forth at the words but the dog never moved.

      “Go home, Tobias.” She ignored him, slopping over the grass.

      At the door Rowena paused, peeked over one shoulder. He’d followed her. She stepped inside, closed the door and went back to work. But her conscience made her check outside the door five minutes later. He was still there, sitting, waiting.

      “Oh, all right,” she mumbled. “Come on in and get dry. But when I leave you have to go home. Got it?”

      A funny squawk of sound emerged from the dog. Apparently he’d accepted her terms. He flopped down in front of the heater and closed his eyes. Rowena picked up her knife and resumed cutting. It was rather nice having company, even if it was just a dog.

      By the time she’d finished, her stomach was complaining bitterly. That half a sandwich would have come in handy about now. She carried the bundles into the adjoining room, thrust the fragile stalks into the rooting compound.

      A rap on the door scared the wits out of her.

      Tobias, on the other hand, didn’t seem too bothered. He was on his feet, but he didn’t bark or growl.

      “I sense that being a watchdog is not your forte,” she scolded as she opened the door.

      Connor Wingate glanced over her shoulder, shoved down his hood and stepped inside. “I might have known.”

      “Pardon?”

      “That animal is in here safe and warm while I’ve been slogging through acres of mud, worried that he was hurt.” He looked as if that was her fault.

      “He showed up here a while ago. I tried to send him home but he wouldn’t go.”

      “I’m sure he wouldn’t.” He glanced around. “Oh!” His eyes glowed like topaz.

      “Oh?” What on earth was wrong with him?

      “I’ve just put two and two together. Davis Nurseries. You’re Davis Nurseries.”

      Rowena motioned him inside, closing the door to shut out the cool air.

      “Actually that was my father.”

      “And now it’s you.”

      She grinned. “Yes, I guess it is. For now.”

      “What are you doing here?”

      “Cuttings.” She showed him. “Most of the trees on the property are too large or too old to sell as nursery stock so I have to start new ones. These will root and I’ll plant them this summer. By next year I’ll have some to ship out.”

      “It’s a long time to wait for a return on your investment.”

      She nodded, surprised by his knowledge.

      “Yes. But I have to start somewhere. Besides, I’ll have a few other sources of income this year. I’ve got bedding plants going in the greenhouse. I’ll use some for Wingate, sell the rest. I’ve also got a contract to do some baskets and stuff for the town, so that will help.”

      He didn’t look impressed. Why would he? Compared to him she was small potatoes. According to Henry’s call yesterday his great-nephew was a stockbroker who’d just sold his brokerage. For a mint. Rowena knew that was true. She’d checked the Internet at the library.

      She studied Connor, wondering what it was like to be able to buy anything you wanted, anytime you wanted.

      “Do you have employees, Miss Davis?”

      It was the one hole in her plan and Rowena knew it. There was no way she could tackle Wingate without help—and that would cost money. Though she’d prayed and prayed about it, she hadn’t yet found an answer.

      “I’m planning to begin hiring tomorrow,” she told him. “Why?”

      He shrugged.

      “If they weren’t your employees, I suppose there’s nothing you can do about it,” he muttered. “I just assumed that since I followed them here they—”

      “Wait a minute.” Rowena blinked at the memory of two figures, backlit by a shaft of light. “You followed someone onto this property? From Wingate?”

      He nodded. “The northern edge. Wingate has a high spot that sits above the rest of the property. I thought if I could get a look from there I’d find that st…Tobias,” he corrected with a sideways glance at the dog. “Two people were leaving that area. That animal seems to like people so I thought maybe he’d be with them.”

      “Where did you follow them to?” she asked quietly, bothered by the notion of someone sneaking around her property. Well, almost hers.

      “I don’t know.” He looked embarrassed. “They were way ahead of me. I caught a glimpse of them near the greenhouse. Then they were gone. I came here because I saw your light.”

      “I see.”

      “You look upset.” He raked a hand through his precisely cut dark hair, rumpling it so he looked less forbidding. “Is anything wrong?”

      As if he cared. But then she stared into those golden eyes, and Rowena sensed his concern. It was reassuring.

      “I don’t know. There’s an old mine shaft at the back of my property. I haven’t been to check on it since I’ve come back, but tomorrow I’ll make sure it’s boarded up. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” She shrugged. “Or it could have been trespassers. Years ago we used to get transients that stole food from our garden.”

      “But there isn’t any garden to steal from now.”

      “True.” She held his gaze.

      Rowena hated being short. People towered over her and they often assumed her size made her incapable of doing her job. Connor Wingate’s height was different somehow. She guessed he was about six foot one but instead of feeling СКАЧАТЬ