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“I did. Much longer than I planned.”
“Which I take full responsibility for,” his mother said lightly. “But she apparently needed the rest.”
“Apparently,” he echoed.
“Valinda, Drake built this greenhouse for me years ago. Would you like to see the beauties inside?”
“I would.” If only to get away from the overwhelming presence that was her son.
Drake protested, “And here I was hoping to have the company of two lovely ladies while I worked.”
“Finish my roof, and maybe I’ll let you eat.”
He chuckled and commenced his hammering.
Inside the greenhouse, the hammering could be heard, but the wealth of beautiful plants immediately grabbed Val’s attention.
As Julianna pointed out the colorful array of specimens from faraway places like Borneo, India, and Australia, she explained, “My late husband, Francois, was a merchant sailor and picked up my first orchid on a trip to Brazil. I didn’t know anything about the care and tried to grow it in the house. It died, of course, and I was devastated. He searched high and low for someone I could learn from and found an elderly Dominican named Yves, who tended orchids on a plantation north of here. Yves said I needed a greenhouse, so Francois built the original one for me. Every time he went on a voyage, he’d bring back orchids, and with each one I grew better and better at their care.”
“What a lovely gesture.”
“He held my heart in so many ways. He died in a storm off the Cape of Good Hope when the Brats, as Raimond calls his younger brothers, were little. I didn’t think I could live without him. I never knew losing him and his love would bring such pain.”
“My condolences on your loss.”
“Thank you.”
Val had never heard anyone profess to loving someone so intensely. Her parents had an arranged marriage, as did most of the adults she’d grown up around. Some couples treated their mates kindly, but others, like her parents, barely tolerated each other. More importantly, the women, particularly her mother and Val’s older sister, Caroline, seemed so unhappy being wives. To escape that unhappiness and the prospect of her father marrying her off to someone she couldn’t abide, Val had agreed to marry her dear friend Coleman Bennett. They cared for and respected each other, but their union wouldn’t be based on what people termedlovebecause it was more of a business arrangement than anything else, and frankly, Val had never witnessed nor experienced love.You will lose a love, reject a love, find a love.The fortune-teller’s words rose out of nowhere and the hairs stood up on her neck. She shook them off and turned her attention to the next orchid Julianna was describing.
When the tour was done, they stepped back out in the heat and saw the captain gathering his tools.
“I’m done, Mama. All the old shingles have been replaced. Your beauties should be safe for another few years.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to get washed up and eat.”
“Reba is fixing Valinda a plate, too. I have some contracts to finish going over. Would you mind keeping her company while I work? It shouldn’t be long. Is that okay with you, Valinda?”
Val’s original plans for the day had been to thank Julianna for taking her in last night, then depart and speak with the nuns about a new schoolroom and a place to stay. She also needed to contact her students about the closing of the classroom. Nothing in that included eating with her son. Now, her plans in disarray, she had no legitimate reason to decline the invitation, so she surrendered again. “That will be fine.”
“Good. I’ll have Little Reba bring your plates out to the gazebo. It’s such a fine afternoon. You two can eat there.”
LeVeq was watching Val with veiled amusement as if he knew the futility in swimming against the strong tide that was his mother. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” he told them. Picking up his tool belt and the ladder, he strode off.
As he moved away, she couldn’t take her eyes off the way the thin sweat-dampened white shirt clung to his broad shoulders and the slope of his back. He walked as if he’d created the world himself. Each step left her so mesmerized, she didn’t hear what Julianna was saying.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
The matriarch smiled knowingly. “The gazebo is this way.”
Embarrassed at having been caught staring, Val followed her down another gravel pathway that led through large stands of red roses, dark pink hibiscus, and fragrant white gardenias. The combination of scents filled the still air with a lovely sweetness. A gazebo made of wrought iron and wood stood beneath the spreading branches of an ancient live oak dripping with its signature pale moss.
“What a wonderful setting,” Val said, taking in the surroundings.
“I’m glad you like it. Drake built this gazebo, too.”
Val studied the structure and the intricate ironwork. “Who did the iron?”
