started in a greenhouse are sheltered from the wind, strong sun and varying temperatures. They need to develop tougher tissues gradually before they’re planted in the ground. Otherwise they don’t grow and produce as well as they should.”
“I see,” Evan said. “I also see that there is a lot more to gardening than I ever imagined.”
“You have no idea.” Hannah rolled her eyes, then met his gaze, her smile questing. “I hope I’m not scaring you off.”
“Not at all. But…”
Evan hesitated, trying to decide how best to word the questions that had sprung to mind as he’d realized just how labor-intensive it was to grow fruits, vegetables and flowers to sell at the local market. He didn’t want to offend Hannah by appearing to doubt the wisdom of trying to support herself and her son in such a way. Nor did he want to make her unduly suspicious of him by seeming overly interested in her financial situation.
“That but didn’t sound encouraging,” she prompted after a long moment, her smile fading. “Especially since you haven’t even seen the vegetable gardens yet.”
“Not to worry. I’m still interested in the job,” he assured her. “I was just wondering if the return is worth all the work involved.”
“I admit I’ll never get rich selling produce at the market in town. But the gardens helped to provide an income for my parents, and I don’t need a lot of money to get by. I own several hundred acres of land and the house free and clear, and I have savings set aside from my husband’s life insurance policy for Will’s education. I’ve also been thinking about going back to teaching since he’ll be starting kindergarten in the fall. In the meantime, it seems a shame not to use the gardens as they were meant to be.
“There isn’t much of a financial return, all things considered. But the real return for me is in having a hand in producing things that give me pleasure. If you plan to stick around, you’ll see what I mean.”
“Sounds to me like it would be a shame if I didn’t.”
Not an outright lie, but still enough of a prevarication to make Evan look away from her sweet, steady, all-too-hopeful gaze. He wondered why there couldn’t be just one thing about Hannah James that he didn’t like. Yet at the same time, he was grateful that there wasn’t.
“I really should let you reserve judgment until you’ve seen the vegetable gardens.”
“Well, then, let’s take a look at them.”
With Will and Nellie again leading the way, Evan and Hannah followed another meandering path set with stones around the other side of the house and across the gravel drive. The vegetable gardens were more easily discernible than the flower gardens had been because they were built-up and partitioned off with foot-high wooden frames. But they were just as badly overgrown as the flower beds.
From beyond the clearing in a place hidden by the forest growth came the musical sound of water flowing.
“Do you have a creek back there?” Evan asked.
“It runs from a spring up above the house. There are actually several springs on the property, one of which also serves as our major source of water.” Hannah pointed up the slope to where the tree line began. “I have a holding tank up above the house. The water from the spring collects there and then it’s piped into the house. I have a water heater, of course, so hot, as well as cold, running water is always available.”
“That’s good to know.” Evan grinned at her, honestly relieved, then turned his attention back to the vegetable gardens, asking, “Do you have any problems with critters getting into the beds?”
“Chicken wire around the beds will keep out the rabbits and the occasional deer that comes to call, and plastic netting keeps out the birds once the little veggies start to appear.”
“We can make a scarecrow, too,” Will advised, flitting to Hannah’s side, then flitting away again, Nellie loping after him. “Just like the one in my favorite storybook.”
“A real scarecrow?” Evan asked in a teasing tone.
“What can I say? The fun never ends around here.” Hannah turned on the path back to the house. “I can show you the upstairs room now, if you’d like.”
“I’d like that very much,” Evan agreed.
“Come on, Will. Time to go back to the house,” she called out to her son.
“Okay, Mommy.”
“You said something earlier about pruning your apple trees,” Evan said as he walked along the path beside her.
“I have a very small orchard.” Hannah waved a hand at a dozen trees, limbs bright with new green leaves, in a clearing farther down the drive. “The trees have bloomed and tiny apples are already starting to grow. We’ll have to do some composting down there, too. I also have several walnut trees at the end of the drive. They’re big and old and pretty much take care of themselves.”
“That’s a relief,” Evan quipped.
“Oh, it is,” Hannah agreed.
Again Evan couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sheer amount of physical labor necessary just to prepare for the growing season. He didn’t want to even think about what must be involved in maintenance once the plants had been set in the beds, because that would also entail thinking about Hannah either having to look for help again or having to do it all alone.
Tramping along with her in the mist, breathing in the clear, cold air, the dancing waters of the creek providing background music, Evan told himself that he was there only to confirm Will’s safety in his mother’s care. Yet he couldn’t deny that an odd sense of peace had settled over him.
Years had passed since he’d last spent time enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the natural world. Cooped up in his office, a rented room or a vehicle, and tied to electronic tools of his trade, his experience of the great outdoors had consisted mainly of viewing it from a window. But that was about to change—at least for a week—and he was looking forward to it with a surprising edge of anticipation.
Leaving Will on the porch to towel off Nellie—a task both boy and dog appeared to enjoy—Hannah and Evan took a moment to dry the soles of their boots on the mat, then headed into the house. At Hannah’s invitation, Evan hung his jacket on one of the pegs next to hers, followed her across the living room and up the steep, narrow, creaking flight of wooden steps that led to the second floor of the house.
At the top of the staircase a short hall led to a doorway that opened into a long, spacious room built under the eaves of the slanting roof. One end held a bed piled with pillows in white, lace-edged cases and covered with a patchwork quilt done in muted shades of blue and rose and green. A nightstand beside the bed held a brass lamp and there was also a small dresser with a mirror against the far wall.
At the opposite end of the room sat a chair and ottoman upholstered in blue-and-white striped fabric. A row of built-in bookcases full of books lined part of the wall, and there was also a small rolltop desk and an expensive-looking, black leather desk chair, out of place enough for Evan to conclude that it must have belonged to Hannah’s husband.
On the polished wood floor were a couple of blue-and-green rag
