a life I knew and the perils of the unknown. She lent me this book, and the story echoed my dilemma and clarified my choice for me. Evelyn had a gift for guiding people in the right direction without ever uttering a word of advice.”
“I think she’s doing that for me right now,” said Lizzy, with a little smile.
“Yes, I believe she is. I don’t want to say too much, but I did witness her will and am the one person in town, aside from the attorneys, who knows a little about what your project is. You may rely on my discretion, and any help I can offer you—though in your aunt’s spirit, I should try to avoid advising!”
“Perhaps you’ll be able to help me with insights into Lambtown and the issues that prompted her to secrecy.”
“Perhaps I can,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “In the meantime, are you here on your own? Do you plan to live in the house?”
“No, my entire family has come. We’re looking for a house to rent. I told them this house wouldn’t be big enough for everyone—and in any case I figured some construction work would be necessary here, and it would be very inconvenient to have a crowd of people in residence.”
“How many are you?”
“There are eight of us—my parents, four brothers and sisters, and my younger brother’s wife.”
“Eight of you! Good heavens. This is a small town, and there aren’t a lot of opportunities here. How will you ever find things to do?”
“Well, my mother works in the home—as in fact does my father, he’s self-employed. My elder brother, John, worked at Starbucks in Columbus, and will probably look for something similar in this area. Mary is still getting her education; Lydon’s wife, Jenny, is the daughter of an air force officer who has just been transferred to Vandenberg, and I expect he will find her a job on base. Lydon will probably look for work there, too, or somewhere nearby; and Kitty may follow his lead. I was a landscape contractor in Columbus; I’ll need to learn more about the local plants and seasons before I can do any design work, but I may be able to get some garden maintenance jobs in the meantime.”
“Well, that’s something I can help you with,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “My husband Edward owns the nursery here—Gardiner’s, out on the Old Coach Road. He can teach you what you need to know and put you in touch with possible clients. But will you have time to work, on top of all your responsibility with the foundation project?”
“I like to be busy,” said Lizzy cheerfully. “I won’t try for full-time employment, but a couple days a week of gardening will be good for me. I like working outside, and doing physical labor. I noticed that somebody has been tending the garden here—and very beautifully, I must say.”
“Yes, that’s my husband. He really admired Evelyn’s eye for plant selection and design, and it’s been his pleasure to maintain it according to her standards. I only wish he took as much care over our own garden! I grow herbs and flowers to make essential oils and perfumes, and he tends to leave the maintenance to me.”
“Oh, I remember my aunt having some wonderful noncommercial perfumes; I loved to sneak into her room and try them out. Were those yours?”
“Yes, indeed. I hope you’ll use the ones she had left over, and enjoy them—it would be sad to think of them just being thrown away.”
Lizzy confessed that she had not yet been able to go into her aunt’s room, but would be sure to rescue the perfumes when she did.
Mrs. Gardiner nodded sympathetically. “You’ll be able to face it in due time. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll all come to the memorial for Evelyn being held by our reading society, the Live Poets, and read something in her honor. I’ve taken over for her as the organizer of the group, and it’ll be at my house, on the twenty-third at seven o’clock.”
“I’m sure we’ll all want to attend,” said Lizzy, hoping silently that she could make it so. “What can I bring?”
“Our gatherings are potluck, so any side dish or dessert, or even something to drink, would be welcome. I’m taking care of the main course options. Normally our group is only ten people, but we’ve opened up this meeting to anyone in the community who wants to honor your aunt. I expect a lot of people will want to attend.”
Chapter Six
On returning to the motel to find the rest of the family, Lizzy was greeted with enthusiasm by her father. “You were sorely missed this afternoon,” he said. “I went to find that real estate agent the lawyer mentioned, Morris Collins. What a character! And I had nobody to share the joke with. But you’ll meet him: he’s coming by here to talk further with us after he closes his office for the day.”
“You weren’t able to determine when you met him whether he had any rental listings we could look at?”
“Not in so short a time as half an hour, as you’ll understand when he arrives.”
“I would’ve thought that five minutes would’ve sufficed for such a simple question.”
“Five minutes didn’t suffice for mutual introductions,” said Mr. Bennet, his eyes alive with laughter. “Wait and see.”
Considerably intrigued, Lizzy sought out John for enlightenment, but he said their father had been no more forthcoming with him. They had not long to wait, however, before Mr. Collins put in his appearance, in a well-polished sedan that from behind could almost be mistaken for a Lexus. Family members were duly gathered in the motel lounge, where they discovered a man of about thirty, tending slightly to corpulence, who bobbed bows to each one in turn.
“Welcome, my dear Bennet family, welcome!” he cried. “As the mayor of Lambtown—for just last month I took that title, having been selected for the office from among the ranks of the Town Council, to which I had the honor of being elected in November, though I had no expectation of being singled out from among my peers in my first term—though perhaps it was due to my position in life, and in the town—my work as a Realtor allowing me to mingle with all my constituents, but especially my membership in the Enclave providing connections to our most exalted ranching families—”
“What is the Enclave?” demanded Mrs. Bennet, the phrase “exalted ranching families” having captured her attention.
Mr. Collins looked shocked. “Surely you’ve heard of the Enclave, ma’am! Though, of course, you arrived only yesterday, but I would have thought that even in Ohio, word of—but perhaps you don’t move in circles where—well, in any case, in sum, the Enclave is the premier social organization of the Santa Ynez Valley. It was founded by the earliest families to settle here, the Fremonts (now, unhappily, all died out), along with the de Bourghs and Darcys. The Enclave owns the polo grounds out on Old Coach Road, a beautiful facility, with meeting rooms and a dining hall and stabling for over a hundred horses!”
“So it is, in fact, a physical enclave, not just a state of mind?” inquired Mr. Bennet.
“Of course! It’s a country club. Membership is by invitation only, but anyone who wishes to be a person of prominence must belong. It’s much more than just the polo team and tournaments: they host charitable events and social occasions, and support many good works in the community. I have the honor of the patronage of the greatest lady hereabouts, Catherine de Bourgh—owner of considerable property just outside town—she is much interested in land use issues, and I’ve
