course, he could have just told her that in order to get a foot in the door—a possibility she hadn’t even entertained in the light of day.
Was there a reason his references wouldn’t have checked out? Hannah had thought, eyeing the clock on her nightstand grimly. Not that that had been the case at all. Everyone she spoke to had nothing but glowing things to say about Evan Graham. Besides, why would he have offered her references unless he fully expected all of the people he’d listed to vouch for him in a positive way?
Reminding herself that it was important to trust her instincts—and her instinctive feeling about Evan Graham had been good—Hannah had slept at last, soundly enough to awaken at seven o’clock feeling rested and ready for the day ahead. The sunlight peeping through her window had brightened her spirits, as well. They would be able to make the first small dent in all the work that needed to be done—if Evan arrived as planned.
He had pulled up by the porch at eight o’clock on the dot, causing Nellie to bark and wag excitedly and Will, still in his pajamas, to dance around the living room in glee. He had brought along a bag of bagels, still warm from the oven, and a carton of cream cheese from her favorite deli in Boone, and presented both to her with an engaging smile. He’d also looked well rested and more than ready to start work.
“I brought four cinnamon-raisin, four loaded with everything and four whole wheat,” he’d said.
“Mmm, perfect choices,” she’d replied, delighted by the rare treat.
Glad that she’d eaten only a small bowl of cereal earlier, Hannah had helped herself to a cinnamon-raisin bagel as Evan returned to the Jeep and proceeded to move his few belongings to the room upstairs.
He’d had a large, black duffel bag and a laptop computer in an expensive-looking leather carrying case. One trip up the staircase and he joined her in the kitchen, rubbing his hands together briskly to chase away the slight chill of the early-morning mountain air.
Hannah had noted that he was as neat and clean—and attractive—as he’d been the previous day. He’d obviously showered and shaved before leaving the motel, if the slight dampness of his hair and the subtle drift of spicy aftershave she’d caught were any indication. His faded jeans and navy blue sweatshirt appeared older and much more worn than the jeans and flannel shirt he’d had on yesterday, making them more suitable for the rough, outdoor work he’d be doing in the wet, weed-infested beds. She couldn’t help but notice his change of clothes did nothing to temper her feminine response to him, but she pushed the realization aside. Evan was her employee—nothing more.
He had accepted a mug of coffee, but turned down a bagel, saying he’d eaten one on his way to her place. Hannah had savored the last few bites of hers, finished her coffee and sent Will to his room to get dressed. Then she’d led Evan out to the shed where she stored her shovels, rakes, hoes, wheelbarrow and various other gardening tools along with the bags and boxes of organically approved products she preferred to use to nourish and protect her plants, as well as control pests.
She had found a pair of relatively new, heavy-duty gardening gloves for him—originally bought for Stewart who had rarely used them. She’d loaded the gloves, a shovel and a hoe into the wheelbarrow, then turned to Evan.
“I need you to work on the vegetable gardens first,” she’d said as he gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow and guided it out of the shed. “They need to be cleaned out completely. It shouldn’t be too hard since the ground is pretty wet from all the rain, but it will be a messy job for the same reason.”
“What should I do with the stuff I dig up?” he’d asked, looking back at her as they’d headed down the drive.
“You can load it into the wheelbarrow, then transfer it to the compost bin. It’s divided into three sections. The one to the left is empty, so we’ll use it to start a new batch.”
Hannah had met Evan’s gaze, hoping she wasn’t overwhelming him with his morning’s duties. He’d looked amazingly eager to get to work, and she’d smiled encouragingly as they’d continued down the drive, pausing only when they reached the first of the vegetable beds laid out neatly on the gentle slope.
“Be sure to wear the gloves so you don’t get blisters or bug bites on your hands,” she’d advised him.
“I will.”
“I’ll put a jug of ice water on the porch for you, too. You’re welcome to take a break anytime you want and help yourself to anything you need. There’s coffee in the pot on the counter and iced tea in the refrigerator if you’d prefer something besides water. If you have any questions, I’ll be working in the greenhouses, moving the seedlings out to the deck so they can start hardening off. Just give a holler.”
“I’ll do that, too,” he said, parking the wheelbarrow and retrieving the gloves.
“We’ll stop for lunch around noon or so.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He’d pulled on the gloves, picked up the hoe, shot her a smile and immediately set to work.
Hannah hadn’t talked to Evan again in the four hours that had passed since then. She had caught an occasional glimpse of him, however, as he’d wheeled one load after another of leaves and weeds to the compost bin. Once she had also gone to check on his progress, albeit at a distance, and had been surprised at how quickly and efficiently he was getting the job done.
Not wanting Evan to catch her spying on him, Hannah had meant only to watch him work a minute or two. But the sight of him breaking up clods of weed-choked soil with the hoe, an industrious look on his face, his movements spare and sure, had arrested her attention completely.
He wasn’t a big man, bulked up with overdeveloped muscles, but Hannah could easily see the strength and energy in his wiry build. Though he had claimed that he wasn’t used to rough, outdoor work, he hadn’t appeared to have any problem taking to it. Of course, he’d only been at it a couple of hours.
Reluctantly slipping away to continue her own work in the greenhouses, Hannah had wondered how enthusiastic Evan would be later in the day, not to mention later in the week—if he even lasted that long. She didn’t want to be pessimistic about Evan, but with so much riding on his employment working out, she was scared to get too hopeful. Past experience had taught her the danger of that.
Now walking down the drive again, Hannah saw that Evan had finished clearing one of the four-foot by four-foot beds completely and was almost finished with another. She also saw that he’d stripped off his sweatshirt and was about to pull off his white short-sleeve T-shirt, as well. He caught sight of her, paused and smiled somewhat sheepishly.
“It’s gotten warmer out here than I’d expected,” he said, modestly tugging his T-shirt over his bare chest again.
Hannah was sorry to see him do it. He had a very nice chest—again, not bulked up, but definitely well-toned and very lightly tanned. Though she really had no business noticing, she couldn’t stop herself. Acting on her attraction was out of the question, but looking couldn’t hurt, right?
“That’s because you’re working in full sunlight,” she advised, more primly than she’d intended. “It’s still nice and cool in the shade. But vegetables need more sun than shade to thrive, thus the location of the beds.”
“I’m not complaining,” he hastened to assure her. “It actually feels good to be out here with the sun on my face.
