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He glanced at her. “You should take a break.”
“We still have a lot to do.” It was surprisingly companionable, working on the garden as the late evening sun spread across the garden.
Ben pushed the brim of his hat back. “She’s going to be all right, Nancy.”
“I hope so.” She’d never be able to describe how it had felt to get that call from her daughter, knowing she was trapped in the car. At that moment in her life nothing else had mattered. Not the house, not the state of her finances. Not even Tom. “How did you know I was thinking of her?”
“You’ve called the hospital twice in the last hour.” His eyes were gentle and Nancy thought how calming it was to be with him.
“I guess I’m feeling a little overprotective.” She pulled off her gardening gloves. “I wasn’t a good mother, Ben. I don’t need to talk about it and I don’t need you to tell me all the reasons I’m wrong. I know it’s true. I’m trying to make up for it now.”
Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you have your girls.”
She was glad, too. She was lucky.
The girls were the one thing she and Tom had done well together. Possibly the only thing.
She turned back to the garden. “We’ve given this place quite a makeover. The house and the garden. It’s looking good.”
“Good? It’s spectacular. Your garden is beautiful.” Ben removed his cap and wiped his brow. “A work of art.”
A work of art.
And Nancy realized that was exactly what it was. She’d stopped painting, but instead of using oil and canvas, she’d used flowers and plants to create great swathes of color that drew admiring glances from everyone who passed.
Her garden was a living, breathing work of art.
“You’re right,” she said. “It is.” There was more than one way of creating something that was visually pleasing. “I’d like to do the same with the garden at the Sail Loft. Will you help me?”
“You know I will.”
“We need to start by digging out that damn honeysuckle.”
“Is it going to upset you moving out for the summer?”
“No. The Sail Loft is closer to Jenna. I’ll be able to drop in and visit without getting stuck in hideous tourist traffic.”
His gaze was steady. “You haven’t been there in so long, I thought you hated it.”
“Lauren has redecorated. I’m quite sure I won’t recognize the place.”
“I’ll miss you.”
His comment confused her. “I’m only moving a few miles away.”
“I’ll miss working on this garden with you.” They’d agreed that he would continue to maintain the garden throughout the summer. Because the coastal garden was an important part of the house, Nancy had deemed it a necessary expense.
“Will it be too much for you to handle by yourself?”
Despite being the wrong side of sixty, Ben was lean and fit. It hadn’t occurred to her for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to cope. If he couldn’t then it gave her a problem, because her finances wouldn’t stretch to another gardener. “Do what you can, Ben.”
His eyes gleamed. “You think I’m breaking up under the pressure? I still have some good years left in me. That isn’t why I’m going to miss you, Nancy.”
“Oh! Well then, what—” She broke off, stumbling over the words, remembering how she’d felt that day when she’d glanced through the window. “But—Ben Winter, are you hitting on me?”
“I’m not sure if that’s what it’s called when you pass sixty, but yes, I’m hitting on you. Why so surprised?”
Nancy almost dropped the plant she was holding.
