"I guess I should go out, take the gas Roz is getting."
"I'll go with you. We'll take care of it together."
* * *
In an hour they had Hayley settled in one of the guest rooms in the west wing. She knew she gawked. She knew she babbled. But she'd never seen a more beautiful room, had never expected to be in one. Much less to be able to call it her own, even temporarily.
She put away her things, running her fingers over the gleaming wood of the bureau, the armoire, the etched-glass lampshades, the carving of the headboard.
She would earn this. That was a promise she made to herself, and her child, as she indulged in a long, warm bath. She would earn the chance she'd been given and would pay Roz back in labor and in loyalty.
She was good at both.
She dried off, then rubbed oil over her belly, her breasts. She wasn't afraid of childbirth - she knew how to work hard toward a goal. But she was really hoping she could avoid stretch marks.
She felt a little chill and slipped hurriedly into her nightshirt. Just at the edge of the mirror, just at the corner of her vision, she caught a shadow, a movement.
Rubbing her arms warm, she stepped through to the bedroom. There was nothing, and the door was closed, as she'd left it. -
Dog-tired, she told herself and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long trip from the past to the verge of the future.
She took one of the books she'd had in her suitcase - the rest, ones she hadn't been able to bring herself to sell, were still packed in the trunk of her car - and slipped into bed.
She opened it to where she'd left it bookmarked, prepared to settle herself down, as she did most nights, with an hour of reading.
And was asleep with the light burning before she'd finished the first page.
* * *
At Roz's request, Stella once again went into her sitting room and sat. Roz poured them each a glass of wine.
"Honest impression?" she asked.
"Young, bright, proud. Honest. She could have spun us a sob story about being betrayed by the baby's father, begged for a place to stay, used her pregnancy as an excuse for all manner of things. Instead she took responsibility and asked to work. I'll still check her references."
"Of course. She seemed fearless about the baby."
"It's after you have them you learn to be afraid of everything."
"Isn't that the truth?" Roz scooped her fingers through her hair twice. "I'll make a few calls, find out a little more about that part of the Ashby family. I honestly don't remember very well. We never had much contact, even when he was alive. I do remember the scandal when the wife took off, left him with the baby. From the impression she made on me, and you, apparently he managed very well."
"Her managerial experience could be a real asset."
"Another manager." Roz, in a gesture Stella took as only half mocking, cast her eyes to heaven.
"Pray for me."
Chapter Seven
It didn't take two weeks. After two days, Stella decided Hayley was going to be the answer to her personal prayer. Here was someone with youth, energy, and enthusiasm who understood and appreciated efficiency in the workplace.
She knew how to read and generate spreadsheets, understood instructions after one telling, and respected color codes. If she was half as good relating to customers as she was with filing systems, she would be a jewel.
When it came to plants, she didn't know much more than the basic this is a geranium, and this is a pansy. But she could be taught.
Stella was already prepared to beg Roz to offer Hayley part-time work when May got closer.
"Hayley?" Stella poked her head in the now efficient and tidy office. "Why don't you come out with me? We've got nearly an hour before we open. We'll have a lesson on shade plants iN Greenhouse Number Three."
"Cool. We're input through the H's in perennials. I don't know what half of them are, but I'm doing some reading up at night. I didn't know sunflowers were called Helia ... wait. Helianthus."
"It's more that Helianthus are called sunflowers. The perennial ones can be divided in spring, or propagated by seeds - in the spring - or cuttings in late spring. Seeds from annual Helianthus can be harvested - from that big brown eye - in late summer or early fall. Though the cultivars hybridize freely,