As Love Blooms

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As Love Blooms Page 4

by Lorna Seilstad


  He pushed it up and grinned at her. “You want to do it? Go right ahead. It’s my turn for a nap.”

  No one had ever left Tessa speechless.

  Until today.

  Reese King was so different from every other man she’d ever met. He seemed too good to be true. Maybe she’d have to put some of her sleuthing to work and uncover some of the dirt on him.

  Strong hands suddenly gripped her shoulders. She jolted and grabbed for her hat to keep it from flying off. She turned to find Reese, his jovial expression gone. “Reese, what’s wrong? You frightened me.”

  Reese inclined his head toward the sidewalk. “Hide, Tessa. Now.”

  6

  Tessa looked in the direction he indicated and gasped. “Oh no. I think he’s already seen me.”

  “Then go over there and start digging in the far corner. Keep your back to him, understand?”

  She nodded and started to race away.

  He jogged alongside her. “Don’t run like a girl. Go slower. Stomp a little.” She did as she was told, and he turned to the approaching park superintendent. Would their ruse be uncovered already?

  “Mr. Nussbaumer, a pleasure to see you this afternoon.”

  “Ja, and a fine afternoon it is.” The man lumbered up the incline. “Your Arts and Crafts garden is already staked. Gut. Gut.” He stopped and glanced toward Tessa. “Who do you have helping you? William?”

  “No, William is tending the Japanese Garden. This is a boy from the neighborhood who wants to learn about gardening. I thought the extra hands would be helpful. He’s volunteering to work, and I’m teaching him along the way.”

  “Gut idea, Reese.” He nodded toward the garden stakes.

  Reese glanced at Tessa, who lowered her head even further. He pointed to the center of the garden, causing Mr. Nussbaumer to turn away from her. “There will be a picnic area and a pond. Do you want to see the plans?”

  “No, I trust you. If I did not, you would be pulling weeds with William in the Japanese Garden.” He chuckled and headed back to the paved sidewalk. “It’s gut to see your progress. Even with help, this will take some time to complete, but I must admit, I am anxious to see the finished garden.”

  Reese fell in step beside him. “Thank you, sir, for the opportunity. I pray I don’t disappoint you.”

  Mr. Nussbaumer waved his words away. “You’ve earned the chance to prove yourself, but you realize this will be your only one. Gut luck to you, Reese. And by the way, we’ll want to put the banana trees out next Thursday. Perhaps your young apprentice would like to help.”

  “I’ll speak to him.” He watched the park commissioner trek down the hill, then turned to Tessa, who remained with her back to him. He shook his head. That had been close. Too close. Guilt nudged him. Keeping this secret about his “boy” apprentice was, in essence, lying to Mr. Nussbaumer.

  Maybe this risk was too great and the cost too high. One chance to prove himself and he was spending it on Tessa Gregory and her garden plans. But he could never tell her no—especially now. He’d seen a damsel in distress and rode in to save her.

  Who was he kidding? Tessa was no damsel in distress, and he needed her as much as she did him.

  Dirt beneath her fingernails, smudges on her face, and clumps of hair having escaped her straw hat—and Tessa had never been happier. She chuckled to herself, and Henry glanced back at her from his driver’s seat.

  “Something wrong, miss?”

  “No, Henry. I’m thinking about what my sisters would say if they could see me right now.” For a week, she’d spent her days with Reese working on the Arts and Crafts garden. Things were really taking shape. They had only one section left to cultivate. After that was done, Reese said he’d sneak her into the hothouses to help pick out plants.

  Henry pulled into the driveway. “It looks to me as if you might find out what at least one of them might say. That’s your brother-in-law’s automobile, I believe.”

  Tessa moaned. Henry was right. And if Lincoln was there, most likely he’d brought Hannah too. If she hurried upstairs and changed, perhaps no one would be the wiser to her apparel.

  Henry opened the door for her. How strange it felt to step out of the eye-catching Oldsmobile Touring car in her overalls. After thanking him, she slipped inside, every footfall so soft it was as if she were walking on some of Charlotte’s whipped cream. Voices came from inside the parlor. She recognized Hannah’s, Lincoln’s, and Aunt Sam’s, but there seemed to be two unfamiliar male voices present as well. Peachy.

  She eased past the parlor doors and laid her hand on the end of the banister. Please don’t let them hear the creaky first step.

  “Tessa, is that you?” Hannah called from the parlor. “Come into the parlor. We have someone we want you to meet.”

  Oh, cheese and crackers. Why did things always happen to her like this? “Let me go freshen up first. Then I’ll be right down.”

  “There’s no need.” Hannah’s voice was closer. She was headed her way.

  “Hannah, let your sister have a few moments.” Aunt Sam to the rescue. Bless her soul.

  “But . . .” Hannah stepped into the hallway and gasped. She hurried to the steps and hissed, “Where is your dress?”

  “In my armoire, and if you let me go, I’ll put it on.” She glanced at her dirty fingers. “I’ve been working in the dirt.”

  “More like wallowing.” Hannah put her hand on Tessa’s back and called to the others, “We’ll be right back. I’m going to help Tessa get ready for dinner.”

  “Dinner? With whom?”

  “Senator Ferrell.” Hannah gave her a little shove to get her moving. “And I’m trying to help you make your dream come true, but you’re about to ruin everything.”

  Thirty minutes later, Tessa appeared, scrubbed and appropriately dressed for dinner with someone of the senator’s stature. Hannah had chosen her dress while she bathed—a sapphire-blue gown with a black lace overlay. It hadn’t taken her long to pin Tessa’s curls in place with a beaded comb, but she’d used every moment to lecture on how the senator should be treated.

  “When the time is right, I’ll bring up the subject of gardening. Understand?” Hannah squeezed Tessa’s hand. “Please be quiet about it until then. I truly want to do this for you.”

  Together they made a grand entrance into the parlor. Lincoln joined his wife, then introduced Tessa to Senator Ferrell and his grandson Edward.

  “I’ve already called for dinner to be served. Shall we?” Aunt Sam took the senator’s arm when he offered it to her. Lincoln and Hannah filed in second, leaving Edward and Tessa to walk in together.

  Tessa wasn’t surprised she was also seated with the young man. If she had to guess, he was about her age. But where was Mrs. Ferrell?

  Once their plates had been filled with the entrée, chicken à la king served over rice, small talk was dismissed in favor of earnest conversation.

  “So, Senator.” Aunt Sam set her fork down. “The Minnesota Women’s Suffrage Association will again be putting an amendment before you granting women the right to vote. Can we count on your support?”

  Tessa sighed. There it went—any chances she had for her dreams coming true. Whatever Hannah had meant by that.

  The senator chuckled. “Even if it passes the senate, it will have to pass the house.”

  “I well remember that was what happened in 1893 when it passed the senate, thirty-two to nineteen, but failed in the house. However, I’m asking if you, sir, will be voting in favor of women’s suffrage—as so many of your contemporaries have agreed to do.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “And you’ve probably contacted each one of them personally, haven’t you, Samantha?”

  Hannah sucked in her breath, and Tessa met her gaze. He’d used Aunt Sam’s Christian name, which was hardly proper.

  It was Aunt Sam’s turn to laugh. “Don’t look so scandalized. James and I have been friends for years.” She patted his arm. “We’ve had this discussion hundreds o
f times, and finally I believe I’ve won him over.”

  He covered her hand with his own. “You have indeed.”

  Beside Tessa, Edward shifted in his seat. Was he embarrassed by his grandfather? Tessa hadn’t been paying the young man his due attention as a dinner companion. “Mr. Ferrell, do your interests lie in politics like your grandfather?”

  “Not really. I’m a law student at Drake, and I’ll be returning for my senior year in the fall. I also have some other interests and hobbies I’d like to pursue, but for the summer, I’ll be serving as a law clerk.”

  “With Lincoln?”

  “No, I’m with another firm.” He took a sip from his cup. “And you? What do you enjoy doing?”

  “Garden—” The word slipped out before she could pull it back. She looked at Hannah. Had she heard her?

  Hannah smiled. “Yes, our Tessa is studying horticulture at the University of Minnesota. She’s very talented.”

  “Is that so?” The senator forked another piece of chicken. “Just today I was meeting with Fred Nussbaumer. Do you know our city’s park superintendent? He has a grand new idea.”

  “Are you at liberty to tell us about it?” Hannah asked.

  He shrugged. “I suppose it won’t hurt. He’d like to build a botanical conservatory. It’s like a gigantic glass house for plants. He says San Francisco has one, also New York and Baltimore.”

  “Oh, there are many more. One of the most famous is in Palm House at the Kew Gardens in London.” Tessa’s heart pounded. Did Reese know about this?

  “I think that’s the same one he mentioned modeling it after.”

  Tessa clasped her hands together in her lap to keep from applauding. “It’s a marvelous idea. When can they begin building it?”

  The senator held up his hand. “Hold on a minute, Miss Gregory. Fred’s been talking about this for a while, but he’s yet to persuade enough people on the park commission to get the funding. It’s an expensive endeavor. He’ll need to garner a great deal of support from influential community members.”

  “I see.” Her hopes sank. She glanced at Hannah, who lifted her eyebrows in a knowing manner.

  That was it. That was what Hannah was trying to do by inviting the senator here. If she could gather the kind of support Mr. Nussbaumer needed, maybe he’d take a second look at her as a candidate to work at Como Park.

  Thoughts raced through her mind. Because of Aunt Sam, she had a myriad of wealthy contacts on whom she could call. If she used her acting and persuasive skills, surely she could garner their interest in such an altruistic endeavor. It would mean she’d have to spend a great deal of time hobnobbing with their neighbors.

  There she had it. A new goal. Gardener by day and deal maker by evening. This grand adventure was only getting better.

  As soon as the senator and his grandson left, Tessa wrapped her arms around Hannah. “Thank you! Mr. Nussbaumer will never be able to turn me down once I’ve helped him secure the support he needs for his conservatory.”

  Lincoln laughed from his seat in one of the parlor chairs. “And how do you plan to garner that support, dear Tessa?”

  “Since I’ve been home, I think I’ve received nearly a dozen invitations a week to join various functions. I may have to begin attending a few of them.”

  “Are you serious?” Hannah took a seat in the other parlor chair. “From the time Aunt Sam started sending you to finishing school, you’ve avoided those engagements. If I recall, you said the girls were stuffy and condescending. You said you didn’t feel like you fit in.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act like them if I have to.” She tipped her chin up and waved her hand dismissively. “This is one performance for which I’ve been well trained.”

  Hannah sighed. “Tessa, you’re too old for games. If you’re going to go to these functions, be yourself. Don’t pretend to be anything you aren’t.”

  Why couldn’t her sister simply embrace her idea? Would she never realize she was an adult now?

  Any further discussion was cut short by Aunt Sam’s return to the parlor. After a short while, Hannah and Lincoln said their goodbyes.

  Aunt Sam kissed Tessa’s cheek, said good night, and left for her own bedchamber.

  Tessa flopped on the divan and picked up the latest issue of Redbook magazine. She read the same column twice because Hannah’s words kept plaguing her thoughts. She’d said to be herself. But who was she? Sometimes Tessa wasn’t so sure.

  Fitting in seemed hard everywhere right now—at the university, with her family, in the park, and in social circles where she should have felt at ease. Playacting was simply easier. She would take on a role, immerse herself in the character, and become someone everyone could admire and respect.

  Including Mr. Nussbaumer and her sisters.

  And it would start tomorrow.

  With a Remington Pump pressed against his shoulder, Reese eyed the cloud in the sky and took a steadying breath. “Pull!”

  The trap snapped and a clay pigeon vaulted into his line of sight. Lightning fast, he lifted the barrel of the shotgun and fired. He grinned at the faint familiar sound like the ring of bell, signaling a hit, and watched the pieces rain down.

  Nineteen for twenty. Not too bad. Not perfect either.

  He turned to his puller and teammate. “You’re up, Erik.”

  They switched spots, and Reese loaded the trap with the clay disc while Erik Swenhaugen readied his shotgun.

  Reese looked at his Norwegian friend. The robust man would have made a good Viking. They’d met at the Saint Paul Rod and Gun Club two years ago after he’d moved to the area, and had been fast friends ever since.

  “You ready?” Reese grabbed the cord of the trap.

  “Don’t rush me.” Erik cocked his gun. “Pull!”

  Erik missed and the disk fell to the ground. He hit the next three, then missed another. In the end, he came in at seventeen for twenty shots.

  “Not bad. I wish the trap boys weren’t busy. I’d like to try my hand at doubles.” Reese picked up his shotgun and glanced toward Erik’s nine-year-old son Kristoffer, who was working as one of the trap boys. Several of the other club members had yet to complete their practice, so he motioned Erik toward the clubhouse door.

  Erik stopped. “What’s Kristoffer doing out there?”

  Reese followed his line of sight and caught a glimpse of the boy skirting around the end of the field. Did he think he could get a start on retrieving the clay pigeons? Didn’t he hear the men still shooting?

  “Hold your fire!”

  7

  Reese raced toward Kristoffer, his heart thundering in his ears, while Erik barreled down the line, shouting to his fellow club members over the din of the shotgun peals. Most lowered their shotguns immediately, but a few seemed slow to catch on.

  Pausing at the end of the line, Reese glanced at the men to see that all had lowered their weapons, then ran onto the field. He grabbed Kristoffer by his shirt collar. “Why are you out here?”

  The boy swung his arms and tried to wrench himself free. “Let go of me!”

  Reese gave him a firm shake. “I asked you why you’re out here on the field.”

  “I was picking up pigeons.” Kristoffer squirmed some more. “Now let me go.”

  “Not until your dad gets to talk to you.” Reese hauled the young man back behind the firing line.

  Erik met them and clamped a beefy hand on his son’s shoulder. “Thanks, Reese. I’ll take it from here.”

  “He’s all yours.” Reese stepped back and leaned against the wall of the club. From this short distance, he could easily hear the exchange between father and son. He chuckled. Who was he kidding? Probably half the county could hear it. Kristoffer protested that he hadn’t thought he was in any danger because the men were done shooting on his end. With his booming voice, Erik made sure his son was well educated to the contrary.

  How would Reese’s father have handled such an experience? He was not a man given to d
isplays of anger or affection, but he managed to express his approval or disapproval in quiet ways. A frown or scowl spoke volumes, and a pat on the shoulder could make Reese’s day, but something like this? Reese could only imagine how his father might have reacted.

  When the men began to file into the clubhouse, Reese followed and took two Cokes from the cooler. He returned with the drinks in time to see Erik release Kristoffer to finish his work on the field. Reese popped off the caps of the Cokes and passed one to Erik.

  He took a long swig from the bottle. The cold liquid hit the spot. “It was a childish mistake.”

  “It could have gotten him killed.” Still red faced and out of breath, Erik seemed to be fighting his churning emotions. “Uff da, my Sonja will never forgive me.”

  “You wouldn’t have to tell her.”

  “And then when it slipped someday?” He swallowed some of his Coke. “No, Reese, secrets always have a way of coming out. It’s best to be honest from the beginning—especially with the woman you love.” He sighed. “But I am guessing tonight will not be a good one at our house.”

  “Makes me glad I don’t have a wife and children.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Erik chuckled. “And if my Sonja has her way, she’ll find you a wife by year’s end. She wants you to meet a nice girl.”

  “I meet nice girls.” His work at Como Park did keep him busy, but there were always young ladies at church. The only problem was none of them seemed to have any spunk. He liked a girl who was more than pink frills and parasols. A girl like—

  “Recently?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” A girl like Tessa? Good grief. Sure, Tessa had spunk in spades, but the last thing he needed right now was to look at her any way other than as a friend.

  Erik set his Coke down on the fence rail. “Oh? What’s her name? Or does she even exist?”

  If he told Erik about Tessa, he’d have to get into the whole story. Somehow he imagined Erik would see more in their garden arrangement than it was.

  “Well?” Erik chuckled.

 

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