She considered that but still couldn’t make sense of why he’d ended up working on the farm. ‘But why did your career have to change just because your brother decided to move to the city?’
Looking at her as if he’d never been asked that question before, Noah tucked his hands in his armpits. ‘Well, what kind of guy would I be if I’d turned my back on everything my family had built? Three generations—Dad, Gramps, my great-grandfather—they’d all poured blood, sweat and tears into the land. How could I walk away from a legacy like that?’
She studied him closely, trying to gauge whether he was happy with the decision he’d made, but she remained unconvinced. ‘Well, that’s admirable, I guess.’
‘You guess? Jeez.’ Noah readjusted his long legs. ‘Little Miss Risk Taker is hard to impress, huh?’
She rolled her eyes, but in truth, she loved that he’d given her that nickname. ‘What I mean is, I can understand why you chose to stay and work on the farm, but it doesn’t seem fair that you had to abandon your dreams and passions because of a decision your brother made.’
Growing serious, Noah jiggled his foot and stared down at the ground. She could almost see his mind working overtime.
‘Feel free to take this with a grain of salt, Noah, because I can’t talk with any level of authority on the topic of family loyalty, but if you’re unhappy working on the farm, if you feel trapped, then I think you should talk to your parents about what it is you really want to be doing. You never know, they might surprise you.’
Noah considered her words then looked her up and down. ‘Well, damn, Beth! How’d you get to be so wise?’
‘Beats me,’ she said, pleased that her opinion hadn’t annoyed him. ‘This is probably the longest conversation I’ve ever had.’
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
The pungent smell of manure was not to be underestimated. Beth had been breathing through her mouth for the last twenty minutes as she cultivated and fertilised the soil around the rose bushes, but the revolting odour was a force to be reckoned with—she swore she could taste it!
When she finished, she dumped her shovel in the wheelbarrow and backed away, desperate for fresh air. Once she’d gained some distance, she sniffed, but the overpowering stench had taken up residence in her nostrils.
‘Oh my!’
Beth spun around to find Flo standing on the garden path, her hand fluttering to her chest and settling over her heart as she stared at the roses.
‘Beth, they look amazing! Truly, they do.’
‘You think?’
She supposed they did look rather impressive. The garden beds were now completely free of weeds, and the freshly turned, rich-brown earth made the colours of the four bushes pop. She’d pruned them a few weeks ago so they wouldn’t look so overgrown and forgotten. Now, their foliage was thick and voluminous, a bright forest green, and they were covered in roses whose petals were a deep romantic crimson. Though she had no clue how a plant neglected for years could bloom so majestically with such a small amount of love and attention—especially when that attention came from someone who’d never had a particularly green thumb.
‘No, I don’tthinkthey look amazing, young lady, Iknow,’ Flo assured her, her tone adamant before turning wistful. ‘I don’t ever remember them looking so striking.’
The words hit Beth like an eighteen-wheeler. Flo had seen these roses blooming. Before they’d been swallowed by weeds. Which would have been before Prudence Campbell had passed away—before she’d moved into the aged-care home, even. And by the sound of it, Flo had seen them bloom multiple times, which meant she’d spent years living across the road from Beth’s aunt.
Why had she never considered that possibility? That Flo, or others in town, might have known Prudence Campbell? Just becauseshelived a lonely existence didn’t mean her aunt had. And if her aunt still had friends living in Karlup, they might know things about her life, her family. They might have answers to Beth’s questions. Like how Prudence Campbell had known about her. And why Rosie had cut all ties to the Campbells.
As Beth stared at the roses, she considered posing the question to Flo—Did you know Prudence Campbell?—except she was suddenly filled with terror. What if she learned things about her aunt she didn’t like?
In the end, she opted for caution.
‘Did the, uh, former owner spend much time in the garden?’
Flo’s gaze shot to Beth and her eyes widened a fraction, but after a moment, she relaxed and smiled when she answered. ‘She did, actually, and she loved those roses. Grew them from cuttings taken from her own mother’s bushes.’
Stunned, Beth looked back at the roses. If what Flo said was true, then they’d originated in her great-grandmother’s garden. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Hadn’t she always dreamed of having a family heirloom, like orphan Annie? These plants weren’t quite what she’d expected, but they did connect her to an earlier generation in her family. They were living, breathing heirlooms, suddenly as precious to Beth as her memories of Rosie.
Clearing her throat, she croaked. ‘Did you know her well, the woman who lived here?’
Flo nodded, her eyes growing misty. ‘I did, and I can tell you, she’d be so pleased that you’ve helped these beauties flourish.’
Enveloped by an overwhelming sense of warmth, Beth felt her aunt’s presence, much as she had the day Vince had shown her through the house.
She couldn’t help it—her eyes welled and her voice wavered as she said, ‘Will you tell me about her?’
