Chapter 1 #2
“Morning,” Sylvie said. The dryad was carrying a flat of echinacea balanced on her hip, and the streaks of green in her mahogany hair caught the morning light.
“Alison wants the urns in front of the inn done over before the leaf peepers start arriving, and she wants them done in orange which I think is a crime. So I’m going to do them in orange and complain about it. ”
She laughed. “Orange can be nice too. How many do you need?”
“Six of these. Eight of the little asters if they’re ready. And whatever you’ve got that’s tall and makes a statement.”
“Joe-pye’s tall. Will she take a weed?”
“Joe-pye is perfect,” Sylvie said. “It looks like something that grows out of a ditch, which it is, and Alison will adore it. Put me down for four.”
She pulled the pad out of her back pocket and made a note. Fairhaven Falls Inn wasn’t one of her biggest customers but they were both regular and pleasant to deal with.
“You’ve heard, I suppose,” Sylvie said as Maris picked up the asters.
“Heard what?”
“About the development out past Miller’s Creek? I heard it’s going to be a luxury resort.”
She frowned at the other woman. “A resort?”
“Maybe. Could just be gossip. You know Fairhaven.” Sylvie ran a fingertip down a fern frond, and the plant leaned towards her. “But I heard at Java Joy this morning that Stonehaven Construction is interested in the build.”
“Like that Stonehaven?” she asked, gesturing at the turrets rising above the stone wall. Honeysuckle, Virginia creeper, and an ancient climbing rose spilled over the top in a long green wave, but they still couldn’t soften the impact of the building beyond.
“Yep.” Sylvie followed her gaze with obvious relish. “Garrick Stonehaven. Very large, very rich, very unsocial. Rona says he came into the café once in March, sat in the corner, and left without ordering anything, which she has not forgiven and never will.”
“He’s my neighbor and I’ve never once seen him. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“Like I said, unsocial. But he’s a gargoyle, hon. They’re not sociable.” Sylvie shrugged, completely unbothered by Maris’s mysterious neighbor.
She made herself stop looking at the mansion. A very rich male with a very large construction company. She had known males like that. She had spent five Christmases with males like that, being asked kindly and repeatedly what exactly it was she did all day.
“Anyway,” Sylvie said. “That’s six coneflowers, eight asters, four Joe-pye. That should do it.”
They started towards Sylvie’s van and got as far as the wildflower bench before Flora appeared behind them.
As always, Maris hadn’t heard her coming.
The little old lady stood at the end of the row in a tracksuit the color of a traffic cone which made a startling contrast to her pale green skin.
Her skin was one of the few signs of her orc ancestry because she had inherited the diminutive size of the fairy somewhere back in her family tree.
The words DIG IT were spelled out in gold sequins across her top.
“Flora,” she said cautiously. Flora was a member of the Town Council, and the person largely responsible for Maris moving to Fairhaven in the first place.
Flora had helped push through her proposal to purchase the nursery, but she’d always felt as if those glittering black eyes saw a little too much. “You look… radiant.”
“I look like a warning sign. Keeps the young males on their toes.” Flora’s sharp little teeth flashed. She stopped beside the trestle table, cast an appraising eye over the plants, and then turned the full wattage of her attention on Maris. “How was the boy’s first day?”
She had to take a deep breath. “He’s fine.”
“Of course he is. He’s a smart little kid. The Crenshaw girl take him on?”
“How do you—” she stopped and sighed. “Never mind.”
“Not many secrets in Fairhaven Falls, and none at all in a kindergarten.” Flora patted one of the pots as though congratulating it. “Children need the right soil. Just like plants. Which is why I’m here.”
Sylvie was already grinning into her flat of flowers, and a shiver went down Maris’s spine. “Flora. What did you do?”
“I did you a favor.” Flora gave her a wide, innocent smile, which fooled no one, and pointed at the mansion. “Those grounds are a crime. They used to be gorgeous and now they give the whole town a bad name.”
She couldn’t resist sneaking a look at the wall.
She’d casually walked by the front gates more than once trying to get a look at what lay inside.
She hadn’t been able to see much, but that glimpse had been enough to intrigue her.
She’d also discovered an old iron gate in the wall between their properties, but the vines had sealed it shut so thoroughly she’d never tried to open it.
“Needs someone with talent,” Flora continued, still smiling that terrifying smile. “Someone who understands neglected things.”
She felt the trap closing around her and made one last desperate effort. “Blue Ridge Landscaping has a great reputation—”
“I’ve already made an appointment for you, dear. Ten o’clock tomorrow.” Flora beamed at her. “He’s going to show you the grounds.”
“I really don’t have time—”
Flora waved that away. “Nonsense. A new client is just what you need.”
“I’m not looking for a rich client who wants an expensive lawn and a water feature. I’ve had those. They don’t want a garden. They want a showpiece.”
“If that’s what he wants, you don’t have to take the job. But I don’t think he does and I’m usually right about these things.”
“But—”
“Ten o’clock tomorrow. He’s expecting you.” Flora’s black eyes sparkled. “You share a wall, dear. It’s high time you shared a hello.”