Red Lily (In the Garden 3)

“No.” She said it softly when she found herself standing in front of the open freezer door. “No. Those weren’t my thoughts. And I won’t have them in my head.”

“You say something?” Harper called out.

“No. No,” she said more calmly.

There was nothing to say. Nothing to think. She would put a meal together and they’d eat. Like a couple. Or even, just a little bit, like a family.

The three of them. Only the three of them.

fourteen

FEELING SO SETTLED was just a little spooky to Harper’s mind. They’d taken to having dinner together in the evenings. Sitting together in the kitchen, Lily strapped in the highchair he’d carted over from the main house, he and Hayley at the table with a meal, and conversation seemed so easy it made him nervous.

They were drifting into something solid, like a boat sailing toward shore in a light wind. He wasn’t sure whether when they hit it, they’d end up bruised and battered or safe and sound.

Did she seem edgy, too, under the casual? he wondered. Or was he projecting his own jitters?

It was all so normal, this eating together at the end of the day, talking about work or Lily’s latest accomplishment. Yet twined through the respite was an intensity, a feeling. A here we are, and here we’ll stay—at least for the night.

How much did he, did both of them, want to keep the “at least” in the mix?

“I was thinking,” he began, “that if things are slow inside tomorrow, I could show you how to hybridize.”

“I know a little. Roz walked me through a snapdragon.”

“I was thinking a lily. They’re a good specimen for it, and we could try one. I was thinking we could try for a mini, something in a kind of candy pink. And name it for Lily.”

Her face switched on to glow. “Really? Like create a new specimen, for her? Oh, Harper, that would be so awesome.”

“I thought pink—but a strong pink—and we could try for a hint of red blushing the petals. Red’s your color, so it’d be like Hayley’s Lily. I was thinking.”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“Spend some time hand-pollinating and you might just cry. It’s not an instant-gratification deal.”

“I’d really like to try.”

“Then we’ll work on it. What do you think of that, shortie?” he asked Lily. “Want your own flower?”

She picked up a green bean with two delicate fingers and dropped it with some care on the floor.

“I bet she likes the flower more than her vegetables. That’s her signal she’s done.” Hayley rose. “I’ll clean her up.”

“I could do it. Give her a bath.”

With a laugh, Hayley removed the highchair tray. “Ever given a toddler a bath?”

“No, but I’ve had a few. Just fill up the tub, dump her in, hand her the soap. Then go back and dry her off after I’ve had another beer. Just kidding,” he said when Hayley’s eyes bugged out. He unstrapped Lily, hitched her up. “Your mama thinks I’m a bath moron. We’ll show her.”

“Oh, but—”

“Stay with her at all times. Don’t even turn your back. Warm water, not hot. Blah, blah, blah,” he continued as he walked away. Over his shoulder, Lily happily waved bye-bye.

She checked on them three times, but tried to be subtle about it.

By the time she’d finished dealing with the kitchen, Lily was running around, all pink and powdered and wearing nothing but her Huggies. Some men, she decided, were natural with children. Harper seemed to be one of them.

“What’s next on her agenda?”