children and lost them. Olivia eventually had gotten her wish.
“The greenhouse in its day was full of orchids,” Elaine said.
Her gaze skimmed the bed filled with weeds and dirt. “How do you know?”
“Olivia’s detailed gardening journals. Each journal began in the spring and went through to Christmas.”
“How many years did she keep it?”
“Until Olivia closed it in the mideighties.”
“Did you ever ask her about why she closed the greenhouse and stopped journaling?”
“A couple of times. She never answered me.” Elaine smiled. “But I suppose she was just getting older.”
“Could I see the journals?” Libby asked.
“Sure. Anytime.”
Libby picked up a smooth stone from the fountain. She rubbed her thumb against its dark-gray surface, now very curious about Olivia Carter.
A horn beeped three times in the distance, drawing Elaine’s attention toward the main house. “Three beeps. Sounds like my husband is here.”
“I thought he wasn’t due until tomorrow,” Libby said, setting the stone back in the fountain.
“He worries about me.” The words were wrapped in affection.
“That’s sweet.”
“Come on. I’d like you to meet him.”
“Sure.”
Libby followed Elaine toward the main house. In the circular driveway stood a man beside a black Mercedes. He was in his early sixties, tall, with a build that looked as if he had been athletic in his younger days but had grown soft sitting too many years behind a desk. He wore jeans, a white shirt, and brown shoes that looked too polished for farm life.
“Ted, this is a nice surprise.” Elaine hugged him and kissed him on the lips.
His gaze studied his wife’s face as his hand came up to the small of her back. “How’s it going?”
“Great. We’re cleaning out the greenhouse today.” Elaine turned toward Libby. “I’d like you to meet Libby McKenzie. She’s going to be photographing this project.”
Ted stretched out his hand to Libby and wrapped long fingers around hers. His grip was firm and his gaze direct. “Pleasure to meet you, Libby. I hear good things about your photography work.”
“Thank you.”
“Elaine said you handled yourself very well during Saturday’s wedding with the downpour.”
“If you don’t count the monsoon, the day went off without a hitch.” Libby grinned.
Ted chuckled. “What’s a wedding without a little drama?” Ted’s face sobered with his next sentence. “Libby, we were sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”
“Thank you.”
“I met him once when our daughter was about two. Lofton had a terrible ear infection while we were visiting Woodmont. Your dad was on call that night. He fixed Lofton right up.”
“Dad was always great with kids. I’m still getting letters from former patients sharing lovely stories about him.”
“I know I was glad he was here for me that night,” Ted said.
Colton’s truck crested the hill. He parked and, when he got out of his truck, offered his hand to Ted. “Ted, this is a nice surprise.”
“Checking on my girl,” he said as they shook.
“Your girl is doing fine,” Elaine said. “She had dinner with Libby, Colton, the boys, and Margaret last night.”
“Sounds like it was a party.”
“We’ll do it again when Lofton arrives.” Elaine turned to Libby. “Can you make it this Friday?”
“I can’t, Elaine. I’ll be in Richmond shooting a wedding.”
“That’s right. I forgot. Maybe Sunday when you return?”
“I won’t be good company for anyone,” Libby said. “I’ll be knee deep in edits for a few days afterward. That’s when the real work begins.”
“We’ll find another time,” Ted said.
“I’ll set a place at the table if you finish early,” Elaine said.
“If you’re going to the trouble, I’ll make my best effort but may be running late.”
Elaine grinned. “Great.”
“I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving,” Ted said. “I hope that’s Margaret’s baking.”
Elaine chuckled. “Yes, rest assured it’s not my cooking. Libby, I’m the worst. I could burn water.”
Libby held up her hand. “It’s an elite club.”
Elaine high-fived her. “But a noble one.”
“Best you all clear out,” Colton said. “The crew I hired is ten minutes out, and it’s going to get pretty busy down there.”
“How long will it take to clean out the greenhouse?” Ted asked.
“Two days, if there are no surprises. Once we have the overgrowth stripped away and debris cleared out, we’ll check the structure and repair the glass. By Sunday, there should be some solid progress.”
“We leave it to you,” Ted said.
Libby glanced back in the direction of the greenhouse, feeling a pull she couldn’t describe. “There are no secrets that time doesn’t ultimately reveal,” she said, more to herself.
Elaine stilled. “Where did that come from?”
“A seventeenth-century French playwright, I think. Must have