by Cora Seton
But not anymore.
“Good morning,” Ellie called when she pushed the door open a few minutes later. “How is my favorite girl?”
Sadie’s heart warmed, even though she knew every young woman in Chance Creek was Ellie’s favorite girl. Just for a moment she let herself bask in the positive glow of the older woman’s attention. Whenever Ellie stopped by, Sadie thought of her mother. She’d been eleven when Amelia had passed away. Right at the age when a girl needed her mom the most. Cass had done everything she could to step into Amelia’s shoes, and they’d always had guardians, but none of them had come close to Amelia.
Sadie missed her mother with an ache that never faded.
“I’m fine,” she made herself say, although she was far from it.
“Tired, I’d say.” Ellie patted her arm. “After a wedding it’s to be expected. The rental company was picking up their things when I pulled up. Don’t worry; looks like Lena is taking care of it.”
Sadie sighed in relief. One chore she didn’t have to do.
“Your sister looked beautiful yesterday in your mother’s gown,” Ellie went on. “I remember Amelia wearing it like it was yesterday. She bought it from me, you know; one of my earliest customers.”
“I know.” Most women in town went to Ellie’s Bridals for their gowns, and had since she set up shop back in her twenties. Alice had altered the dress to fit Cass, and all of them had agreed she’d been stunning in it.
“You’ll look beautiful in it, too, when it’s your turn.” Ellie beamed at her.
Pain blossomed behind Sadie’s rib cage. Her heart squeezed with the knowledge she’d never have a turn. Not after what she’d done.
“Thanks.”
Ellie cocked her head. “Your time will come,” she said gently. “I bet there’s a man just waiting for you.”
Choking on the woman’s kind sentiment, Sadie hurried to the table where she’d left the tonic. “I’ll write you a receipt.”
“Not yet.” Ellie hurried after her. “There’s something else I hope you can help me with.” She hesitated. “You won’t tell anyone.”
“Of course not.” But Sadie’s heart quailed. She couldn’t help Ellie with anything else—not without the mixture already prepared.
“It’s… tiredness. I’m tired all the time. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Ellie’s distress was palpable.
Sadie took a calming breath. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me about it.” She guided Ellie to a café-style table and chairs in the corner.
Ellie did. “It’s nothing specific. In a way, it’s everything. I just can’t do what I used to do. Or if I do it, I’m tired later on. My muscles ache. I fall asleep as soon as I sit down at night.”
“What about Caitlyn? Isn’t she helping you at the shop?”
“Oh, she’s a big help, but she’s got her children, and I don’t want to ask her to—”
“Ellie, you’re going to have to ask her to do things for you.” She took the older woman’s hand. “I can give you something to help with your energy, and you should go have a checkup to rule out the possibility there’s something going on I’m not qualified to diagnose. But the thing is—” There was no easy way to say it so she blurted it out. “You’re getting older. You aren’t always going to be able to do the things you used to do.”
“Well, that—sucks, as the younger generation likes to say.” Ellie braced her hands on her knees, thought a moment and nodded. “Of course, you’re right. I will go to the doctor to be on the safe side, and I’ll take whatever you’ve got, too, but I guess it’s time to have a talk with Caitlyn.”
“How do you think that will go?” Like all healers, Sadie knew the most important part of the cure was listening.
“Oh, she’ll be thrilled.” Ellie laughed. “She’s always telling me I’m not letting her work to her full potential. Pretty soon she’ll take over and it’ll be Caitlyn’s Bridals.” Ellie’s face fell. She blinked rapidly. “Oh, there I go. Look at me, making a fuss.”
Sadie squeezed her hand. “Ellie, when things change, we grieve. That’s the way it is.” She was grieving, too. Every day on the ranch was one closer to when she’d leave and she didn’t know how she’d bear up under the exile. She could well understand how Ellie felt. “Talk to Caitlyn. Tell her what you’re feeling so she knows. She won’t want to trample on what’s important to you. She’s excited about her career, that’s all.”
“You’re right.” Ellie dabbed at her eyes with a hemmed handkerchief she’d pulled from her pocket. “She’s a good girl.”
“And you’re a wonderful aunt.”
Ellie sighed. “I try to be.” She pulled out her wallet as Sadie went to find the tincture for energy she always had on hand. As she paid what she owed, Ellie smiled. “I’ll go home, grab the bull by the horns and sort out a new way for us to work together. Maybe it’s time to put her name on the sign along with mine. We can run the shop fifty-fifty for a while.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Sadie wished she had as much gumption when it came to facing her own future.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, dear,” Ellie said. “I’m glad you’re one thing that will never change around here.”
“You can’t let her leave,” Logan said when Connor made a video call to the other men at USSOCOM.
“Obviously.” Connor knew that much. What he didn’t know was how to convince Sadie to stay. He’d tossed and turned half the night, trying to sort out the problem. It hadn’t helped his phone kept buzzing. Lila was in a chatty mood—and even Bridget had texted him once or twice. Neither seemed to believe he was well on his way to matrimony, and he was beginning to doubt it, too. Sadie seemed determined to leave.
“Did she say why she was going?” Hunter asked.
Connor gave his attention to this much savvier question. “She said she’s been stuck here on the ranch too long. She wants to see the world; India in particular. The thing is, I don’t buy it. There’s something else going on I can’t figure out.” He didn’t tell them about her surreptitious touches the previous night. He figured that would quickly mire them in the kind of locker room talk he didn’t want anywhere near his Sadie.
Connor repressed a chuckle. His Sadie. She was far from that, and he’d have to solve this mystery and convince her he was a man worth loving if he wanted her to be his.
Was he worth loving?
For the first time in his life Connor took stock of himself.
Hell.
“What is it?” Logan demanded.
“He just said he can’t figure it out,” Jack told him.
Their argument gave him a chance to recover his bearings, staggered as he was by his assessment of himself. Why would Sadie fall in love with him? What had he ever done except work and fool around with women when the opportunity arose? He supposed his commitment to the Air Force was a point in his favor, but he had little else to show for his years on earth. Few good friends. No sense of what he wanted from his future.
He’d have to work on that.
“Is it about the General?” Hunter asked. “Seems to me there’s still a lot of bad blood between him and his daughters. He didn’t even go to Cass’s wedding. That has to have made them mad.”
“Maybe.” Connor wasn’t sure, but it could explain why Sadie wanted to leave. “I keep thinking it’s got to do with Mark Pendergrass.”
That shut them all up. “He’s in no fit state to come sniffing around there again, is he?” Hunter asked.
“No. I don’t think we have to worry about that. I think it’s more of a once burned, twice shy type of thing.”
“Which means you’ve got to go easy when you pursue her. Be persistent—you don’t have much time. But be careful, too. You can’t ride roughshod over her the way Pendergrass did,” Hunter said.
“She’ll be embarrassed about that,” Jack said suddenly. “Making a mistake about who you think someone is—that kind of thing smarts.”
Conn
or blinked. That was the first personal comment he’d ever heard the man make. Had Jack made a mistake about someone once? he wondered.
“Build up her confidence,” Hunter said. “Hard work helps.”
Connor knew what he was thinking. “You want me to get her to help me build the garden.”
“Building a wall that big? That’s hard work,” Hunter said with the emphasis of a man who’d done the job before. “Lots of heavy lifting.”
Connor knew that. He’d already booked a backhoe to help dig the footer for the big stone wall. He was going to do this right. But Hunter wasn’t kidding—it would take a lot of sweat and labor to build the thing.
“I’ll give that a try.”
“Eyes on the prize,” Logan said and the others signed off.
As if he could look away from Sadie, Connor thought. His gaze was drawn to her wherever he found her. Leaving the house a moment later, he spotted her instantly in her garden. When he caught up to her she was rubbing a tomato leaf between her finger and thumb. She held it up to her nose and frowned.
“Trouble?” he asked.
She nodded. “The tomatoes don’t seem to be happy.”
“Some years are better than others, aren’t they?” He knew all about it from the cook on the ranch where he’d grown up. Some years they’d have more tomatoes than they could count. Other years the yield crashed.
When he looked up she had a strange expression on her face. “I… guess so,” she said. Then she reached out and touched him.
Her sudden gesture caught him off guard, but her look of intense concentration surprised him even more. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she nodded. “Okay. Okay—I can do that.”
“Do… what?”
She pulled her hand back as quickly as she’d reached out. He realized the ribbon he’d wrapped around her wrist the day before was gone. He wondered if she’d saved it or thrown it away. “Think of each year as different,” she answered in a rush. “Like you said. Some years aren’t going to work as well.” But even as she spoke she was surveying the row of tomato plants, all of them looking the worse for wear, and he could tell she wasn’t satisfied.
“I want to start on the walled garden as soon as possible. I’ve got a backhoe coming this week,” he went on, as she took a few steps, bent down and stuck her hand in the dirt near the roots of another tomato plant. “Which means we need to measure it out today. Got a few minutes?”
“Sure,” she said distractedly. “I’ll join you there in a jiffy.”
When he realized he’d been dismissed, Connor cocked his head. “Where do you want the thing?” he asked a little more testily than he’d meant to.
“Over there.” She gestured to an open space set back farther than the greenhouse but off to one side. She bent back over the tomato plant and Connor sighed, but trudged away.
When he reached the area she’d indicated, he began to pace out a rectangle. Given Sadie’s distraction, he wasn’t sure if she actually would join him, but about ten minutes later she did, and immediately began to criticize his plan.
“It’s facing the wrong way. You’ve made the long wall run north-south rather than east-west.”
Rather than being angry at her criticism, Connor was gratified. She was interested enough to have an opinion. That was something.
He showed her the sticks he’d collected to use to indicate the corners. “Why don’t you mark the dimensions you like and then we can adjust them as we measure again?”
At first he thought she’d go for it, but then her shoulders slumped. “It’s useless, you know. I won’t even get to plant it. I told you—I’m leaving as soon as Cass comes home.”
“Then Cass will use it,” he told her, keeping his tone neutral. “And Jo and Alice and maybe even Lena. And so will their daughters. And their daughters. You’re not the only green thumb in history, you know.”
She jolted as if he’d slapped her. “I know that,” she snapped.
“That’s what a legacy is, right? Something you build for the benefit of those who come after you.”
She sucked in a breath. “So what you’re saying is to stop being so selfish and start thinking about everyone else.”
“Your words, not mine.” He wasn’t being kind and he knew it. The guys back at USSOCOM would have something to say. But he figured he needed to jolt her out of the funk she’d fallen into and find out what was behind her desire to leave.
“You’re right,” she said, surprising him all over again. “I am being selfish. I’ll help you build the garden. For the good of everyone else.”
It was a victory, but not a very satisfying one, Connor thought. “For your good, too,” he said. “Even if you don’t stay to use it, by the time you’re done, you’ll know how to build a wall. That’ll come in handy anywhere. Even India.”
What the hell was he saying? Sadie already knew how to build walls. She’d built one so high between them he didn’t know how he’d breach it.
Someone needed to teach that woman about doors, he thought as he wedged a stick into the dirt and followed Sadie as she paced out the perimeter of the garden.
Worm casting tea. She’d gone too heavy on it the last time, and proved the old adage you can have too much of a good thing. Her tomatoes wanted her to dial it back, but they craved the calcium from crushed eggshells Sadie had neglected to give them recently. It was so simple even a new gardener should have been able to figure it out, but learning it directly from the plants was so much easier than guessing.
If only she could figure out why her connection only worked when Connor was touching her.
And why, if he felt that connection, he wasn’t saying anything. Surely he must see the damage to her garden—so why didn’t he talk about it?
Did he want her to ask for his help? Was that it? Did he need her to grovel?
Sadie’s back straightened, but she realized she’d beg if it meant saving the garden.
First, though, she’d try to learn more. If Connor did share her ability to connect with the growing things around her, he was a master at hiding it. Why?
She’d always kept her abilities a secret so as not to be labeled. She’d heard the way people talked about her older sister Alice since she was very young. “She’s different,” they would whisper when they thought Alice was out of earshot. Sadie had instinctively known how that hurt her sister.
She hadn’t wanted any part of it.
Was it the same for Connor? He was a warrior—not afraid of anyone.
Still, even warriors had feelings, she supposed.
She tried to focus on the work at hand, but thinking about the walled garden she’d never get to plant made her even more confused. Would Connor stay and plant it?
Would Cass try her hand at keeping it up?
The gardens were already large enough they took most of Sadie’s time. Cass could never tend them with all her other duties. Alice had no interest in gardening, and Jo and Lena were far too busy with the cattle to take it on.
“This is pointless,” Sadie said again, coming to a halt.
Connor bumped into her, then steadied her with a warm hand. “Legacy,” he said quietly, even as the whole world around them came alive to Sadie in a symphony of information.
Keep touching me, she willed at Connor. She needed this connection; the three-dimensional world she’d always inhabited before the shoot-out at the house.
As if he’d heard her, Connor stooped to place the rest of the stakes on the ground and set his other hand on her hip. “Sadie Reed, I’m going to kiss you,” he announced. He didn’t leave her much time to react before his mouth brushed hers softly, brushed it again, and then he tugged her close and kissed her for real.
Instantly, sensations overwhelmed her. Connor’s touch electrified her—his kisses turned her insides warm and fluid, leaving her pressed against him, her arms reaching of their own accord to wrap around his neck. She felt the pleased, verdant expectancy beneath her feet—as if the v
ery dirt they trod on yearned to be coaxed to bloom and thrive once the garden was built. Images filled her mind of green bowers, vined walls, shrubs and flowering trees, roses winding over an arbor, delphiniums, asters, peonies—
The swirl of flowers and plants spun in her thoughts as Connor’s kiss deepened. That he seemed unaware of the frenzy of life working beneath their feet, waiting to grow—to blossom—became a thread of doubt that tangled through everything else.
Connor had to tend this garden when she left—
A landslide of images cascaded through her mind, as if the land itself was reacting to her thoughts. The garden’s green abundance turned to dust in her mind, and Sadie gasped. She pulled away from Connor, broke the connection, and the roar of life that had tumbled through her just moments ago disappeared altogether, leaving her stumbling in its sudden absence.
“Sadie?”
She held out a hand to stop his pursuit. “I don’t—I don’t understand—” She stopped short when she saw he looked as blank and shocked as she felt.
“You have to stay,” he said suddenly, his light Irish accent clear again. “I need you here. Not just because of the legacy. But because of you. When I touch you, something happens—” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”
Neither could she. Were they talking about the same thing?
“It’s like part of me—part of me that had died—comes to life,” he went on, and Sadie’s heart beat hard. “I didn’t think it would feel like this.”
He visibly got control of himself, and looked up at the sun high in the sky. The warrior in him was back, all the raw, anguished truth of his feelings corralled behind walls so thick she’d never penetrate them.
She craved the man who felt things—and tried to express them.
But she couldn’t have him.
Because she couldn’t stay.
“We better get back to work and get this measured out,” Connor said curtly.
