As Love Blooms (8 page)

He shook his head and put his weight into pushing the cultivator. From what little he knew of her, she had probably gotten sidetracked watching butterflies and forgotten all about making them a garden.

No, that wasn’t fair. Tessa seemed to be taking this garden project seriously, and she’d worked as hard as any man. A picture of her in her overalls took shape in his mind, and he chuckled. She’d even gone to the extreme of disguising herself to protect her identity and his job.

So where was she?

 8 

Another glance down the sidewalk yielded a figure jogging in Reese’s direction. Although the clothes said the jogger was a young man, the manner was all girl. All Tessa.

Relief swept through him, followed by a surge of anger. She didn’t look injured or ill. So what was her excuse? He needed to slow down and hear her story.

He brought the tiller to a halt, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited for her to reach the garden. “Where have you been?”

Out of breath, she whipped off her straw hat and waved it in front of her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was having lunch with a man . . .”

She was having lunch? With a man? Instead of coming here to work with him?

“I wasn’t worried about you. I was worried about this project. I thought you took this opportunity seriously.” He stomped back to the tiller.

“I do.” She trailed behind him. “If you’ll let me explain—”

“I don’t need to hear your excuses. Put your hat back on before someone sees you.”

She grabbed his sleeve. “Reese, you need to listen to me.”

He didn’t look at her. “The only thing I need to do is get this garden tilled, which I’ve been doing all afternoon—alone.”

Her hand slipped from his arm, and he fought the urge to turn and stop her from walking away. Had he been too hard on her? No. What was she doing agreeing to lunch when they had work to do? And who was this fellow anyway?

Jealousy pricked him like the thorns of a rosebush. He grimaced. He needed to get out his clippers and give this particular rosebush a good old-fashioned pruning.

Tessa patted the ground around the pussytoe plants. Soon the plant would sport white flowers that looked like tiny cat’s paws.
Antennaria plantaginifolia
might be their official name, but
pussytoes
certainly fit them better.

She fingered a velvety leaf and glanced at Reese. All afternoon she’d felt as if she were walking on cats’ feet around him, and she was getting tired of it. She took off her leather gloves and knocked the dirt from them, then went to retrieve one of the jars of cold tea she’d brought. Perhaps a peace offering would help.

“Reese?”

He ignored her, so she marched to the plot he was working and positioned herself beside the cultivator. He still refused to look at her. She jammed her hands on her hips. “Reese King, you need to hear me out.”

“Let it go, Tessa. I’m not sore at you anymore. Girls are flighty. They can’t help it.”

Before she could stop herself, she tossed the tea into his face.

She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. What would Reese do now? Send her away?

Without a word, he withdrew a blue handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped his face. “I reckon I deserved that.”

“Reese, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.” He tucked the handkerchief away. “I was rude.”

“It’s just that I had a good reason for being late. It involves the
conservatory Mr. Nussbaumer wants to build, but you wouldn’t let me explain.”

“How do you know about the conservatory?”

“Senator Ferrell came over for dinner. He told me about it.”

“A senator came to your house?” He drew in a breath and released a slow whistle.

“Well, not mine. Aunt Sam’s—where I live for the time being.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on, Tessa. Let’s go start picking out some more plants. I think we have a lot to talk about on the way.”

A gentle breeze blew across Reese’s damp shirt front. Given how hot under the collar he’d been all day, it was a welcome change. Now, walking alongside Tessa, he found it hard to believe he’d let his anger get hold of him like that. It wasn’t his usual way. Even when kids in school tried to provoke him, he’d always managed to stay calm. After only a few days with Tessa Gregory, she’d managed to irritate him like a patch of nettles.

He glanced at her. What kind of family had senators over for dinner? And hadn’t she mentioned her aunt had a driver? The pieces began to fall together. He should have seen she was from a wealthy family from the clothes she wore the first day they met. The ivory and green dress with its enormous ostrich-feathered hat had shouted money. Still, Tessa hadn’t seemed like some of the society girls he’d met. She didn’t seem like she expected things to be handed to her—she seemed like a fighter.

“I really am sorry about the tea.” Tessa stuffed her hands into her pockets.

“And I apologize for saying girls are flighty. That sounds like something my dad would have said, not me. Now, suppose you tell me about this aunt of yours.”

For the next five minutes, Reese listened as Tessa explained how
Hannah had met her husband Lincoln and how Aunt Sam was actually Lincoln’s aunt.

“I guess she always wanted girls, because she’s sort of taken us all in. She treats us like her own, and I couldn’t love her more if she were my actual aunt. But I admit, she does spoil me.”

“The old maid type, huh?” Reese navigated the cultivator around a bend in the walk.

“Heavens, no.” Tessa giggled. “More like the bicycle-riding, bloomer-wearing, suffragette kind.”

“You must be like two peas in a pod.” Reese leaned against a tree. “And she’s wealthy?”

“Yes, her husband was in the railroad business before he passed. She lives on Summit Avenue.”

“So that’s where you live too.” He snuck a look at her only to find her taking an interest in her shoes. Was she embarrassed? Did she think he might renege on his offer to help her? Even though he was sorely tempted, that wasn’t his way. “Why aren’t you going to balls instead of digging in the dirt?”

Her head snapped up. “Why can’t I do both?”

He chuckled. “Good point. Now, tell me about the senator.”

Since he was already aware of Mr. Nussbaumer’s dream of building a grand conservatory, he wasn’t surprised by the news. However, he was concerned the senator believed some members of the park commission wouldn’t support the plan.

“Can’t you see how this could help me get a position here? I can use my connections with the park commissioners’ wives and daughters to encourage each of them to work hard at persuading their husbands or fathers to vote for the conservatory.” She stopped and turned to him. “Between our garden and the help I can give him, surely he’ll see how seriously I take this job.”

“You can fit into that world?”

“I’m a very good actress.” She grinned. “And I went to school with many of their daughters. So you see, when I ran into Senator
Ferrell’s grandson Edward, who’s a lawyer like Lincoln, I had to say yes to lunch because he said he’d help me with my plans. He provided me with the names of the park commissioners. How else was I to get them? Lincoln wasn’t going to help me unless Hannah said it was all right, and I know she wouldn’t have agreed.”

“And you didn’t think I’d know who those men were?”

“No—I mean yes, of course you do, but I needed to know more about them. Edward knows each of the families well.”

“And how old is this Edward?”

“A year or two older than you, I’d guess. He told me he may be able to help even more in the future.”

“I bet he did,” Reese mumbled.

“Pardon me?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. He might not like this on several levels, but the worst one was the position she could be placing herself in. “Tessa, the circle these men travel in is filled with all kinds of politics. Each man has his own motive, and many of them will do anything to get what they want. It would be easy for you to get in over your head, and it could even be dangerous. Just be careful. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry. Careful is my middle name.”

 9 

What a treat it was for Sam to have all three nieces with her this bright Saturday morning, although it meant attending a stuffy social function.