style="font-size:15px;"> “It’s pretty wet out here, and muddy, too. Are you sure you want to risk ruining your new boots?” Hannah asked, peering up at him from under the brim of the dark green hood framing her face.
The hesitation Evan heard in her voice coupled with the concern that shadowed her soft brown eyes reminded him anew of how the real Hannah James didn’t jibe with the Hannah James he’d expected to find there. She was considerate almost to a fault, and in a way that spoke to him of caution. It was almost as if she were trying to guess at what might upset or annoy him so as to avoid having it happen.
“They’re meant to be work boots and I was told they’re waterproof. Might as well put them to the test,” he replied.
“All right, then,” she said with obvious relief. “Let’s start with the greenhouses.”
As Hannah turned and headed down the stone path, Evan realized how easily and how naturally she blended into the lush spring landscape. She moved with grace and confidence, head up and shoulders squared, leading him wordlessly into her world. He followed after her with a willingness that had more to do with her womanly allure than his real reason for being there.
Evan had already noted the sturdiness of her cedar-plank house. He had also seen that although her property was situated on the gentle slope of a heavily wooded mountain, the area around the house had been neatly carved into a series of clearings. These clearings led in terraced steps from the main road to the house, then on past the house for a good way before running, once again, into dense forest growth.
Years of hard work had obviously gone into creating this quiet, peaceful place that seemed to him like a hidden jewel. But the neglect Hannah had mentioned was obvious, as well. Barely able to discern the borders of various beds almost hidden by an odd mix of deadfall and new vegetation now running rampant, Evan understood immediately just how desperate she had to be for help.
“It’s really gotten away from me,” she said, gesturing all around her with one hand as she glanced back at him. “But I guess you can see that for yourself.”
“Everything looks very green and lush to me. But I admit I’m not much good at telling weeds from whatever’s worth cultivating,” Evan replied.
“There are perennials coming up under all the stuff that died off over the winter, but there are lots of weeds, too. We’ll have to clear out the dead stuff first, of course, then get rid of the weeds, divide the perennials for replanting as necessary and turn compost into the soil.”
She gestured again at a large, square, wooden box about four feet tall that Evan assumed held her compost heap.
“The vegetable gardens and apple trees are on the slope down from the house,” she continued. “I’ve pruned the trees already, but the vegetable gardens have to be cleared and composted, as well. Then we’ll have to plant the seedlings I’ve started in the greenhouses.”
“Sounds like you’ve done a lot of work already,” Evan acknowledged.
“Actually, I’ve barely scratched the surface,” Hannah admitted with another glance over her shoulder, concern still evident in her eyes. “The really hard work is yet to be done.”
“I’ve never minded hard work,” Evan said, wanting to reassure her.
Too late he realized that he was actually leading her on. He was only there to find out if she was endangering her son in any way, and he wouldn’t likely need more than a week to make that determination. Then he would return to his office in Charlotte, write up a report for Randall James, collect the remainder of his fee and immediately get busy on another case.
He would only be able to help Hannah make a small dent in all the work that needed to be done before he left her on her own again. The thought didn’t sit well with him.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Hannah said.
Once again, her tone held more than a hint of relief, causing Evan to suffer another irksome twinge of conscience. He could try to justify his reasons for deceiving Hannah James, but bottom line, he knew that at the very least he was going to willfully become a source of grave disappointment to her.
Such a probability left him feeling oddly ashamed and apologetic. Still, he had a job to do—one that involved the well-being of a five-year-old child. For Evan, the good of the boy had to come first. Hannah could take care of herself; Will couldn’t.
As they rounded the house, Evan saw the object of his concern waiting patiently for them, along with Nellie, by the door of one of two small, old-fashioned, glass-windowed greenhouses a few yards ahead. He had expected them to be larger, longer and lower like the commercial greenhouses used by wholesale nurseries. Hannah’s were much more picturesque, adding to the landscape in a most charming way.
The buildings sat side by side just beyond the wide, wood-plank deck built onto the back of the house. Not one of the panes of glass was broken, and all appeared to have been recently washed, allowing a clear view of the long tables filled with small pots within the walls. Vents with fans had also been installed to help with temperature control during the summer months that could be surprisingly warm even in the mountains. Despite the tall trees surrounding the area at a good distance, on a sunny day the greenhouses would get the full benefit of several hours of bright sunlight.
“Can I go in the greenhouse, Mommy, and check on our seedlings?” Will asked.
“Let me grab Nellie first,” Hannah replied.
Joining her son by the door, she wrapped a hand around the dog’s collar and held her back as Will slipped into the greenhouse.
“We made the mistake of taking her in the greenhouses with us when she was a puppy. Now she’s like a bull in a china shop,” Hannah explained. “She doesn’t mean to be, but she gets so excited that she wriggles and wags her tail and ends up knocking over a whole shelf of little peat pots before we can stop her.”
“Poor girl,” Evan said, reaching out to scratch the dog’s floppy ears. “You’re just too happy for your own good, aren’t you?”
Nellie gazed up at him and offered a woof in seeming agreement, making Hannah smile along with him.
She urged him to go into the greenhouse, then to the dog she ordered sternly, “Sit, Nellie and stay,” and followed after him.
Though the greenhouse wasn’t very large at all, the interior was laid out in a surprisingly spacious way. The air was warmer inside than outside the glass walls, but the humidity wasn’t as dense as Evan had expected, and smelled of rich, dark soil and green, leafy things.
The rows of tables were chock-full of little pots and trays filled with small, yet obviously healthy plants, all of which looked about the same to him. Will had no trouble telling one from another, though. Standing by the table against the south-facing wall of windows, he pointed here and there with excitement and delight.
“Look, Mommy, look, Mr. Graham—the tomatoes are really starting to grow now. So are the green peppers and the lettuce and the cucumbers and the squash. We’re going to have to start moving them out to the beds really soon.”
“I know,” Hannah agreed, then to Evan she added, “We’ll have to start clearing out the vegetable gardens as soon as the rain lets up—hopefully tomorrow if the latest weather forecast can be trusted. We’re also going to have to move the seedlings outside to
