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She’d stopped running and was now just walking in long strides. The house was visible in the street lights from here. She hadn’t paid much attention to it before. It was sad, and neglected looking, with some ivy trailing across the front of the property.
Piper brushed the tears from her eyes and took a few calming breaths as she made her way around to the back—to the greenhouses.
She keyed in the code that Dawson had watched being entered the first day they’d been brought here. As soon as she slid the door back and stepped inside to the green, damp, welcoming atmosphere, the ache in her chest started to vanish.
She had to put Dawson out of her head. She didn’t need him. They’d been asked to solve clues together. That was it. Even if he wanted the whole host of land at the back of the property—even if a dozen new houses appeared on it. She could still work here. She could still expand the greenhouses and upkeep the gardens as a communal space. All her dreams didn’t need to be in vain.
They might have been wrapped around another human being. And maybe she’d been wrong, maybe she’d allowed someone to come into her life without really knowing too much about him. She could have misread the connection between them. All of this could have meant something else entirely to Dawson than it did to her. And that was partly her fault. She should have been more open. She should have told him she was falling for him, let him proceed to let her down gently, and maybe they could have been friends.
That seemed impossible now.
She made her way along the plants, checking each one, watering a little, stripping off a few leaves, and repositioning a few. Working with plants always calmed her. Always made her feel right with the world. As long as she could keep doing the job she loved, she would be fine. She could forget about love. The only thing she needed to love was her green-leafed friends.
*
The dim lightswere on. Piper had explained to him that if she were working in the greenhouses at night, she used dimmer lights, so as not to upset the plants.
He’d had time to think about things on the walk over. This was a misunderstanding. One that he could explain. But what mattered most to him wasn’t the house, land, and greenhouses; what mattered most was his relationship with Piper. She was his priority. And she had to know that.
He punched in the code and slid the door back.
“I’m busy,” came the short reply.
“I’m busy, too,” he replied. She shot him an angry look and he stepped forward. “Busy telling certain people that they misread a situation and stepped over a line I wouldn’t cross. They made assumptions they never should have. I put them straight. I won’t be talking to them again about any of this.”
Piper stared at him; her eyes still mad.
He held out both hands. “But this isn’t about Margaret Smith. This is about you and me. It always has been.”
“What?”
He stepped toward her, moving so he could see the little lines around her blue eyes. “Don’t you get it?” he said in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t get it. I don’t get any of it.”
“Then pay attention.” He put one hand on her arm. “Margaret Smith was mischievous. She was a meddler. The attorneys told us that. She’s been playing cupid with us since the beginning.”
Piper looked shocked. “No,” she started to say then stopped. Recognition, along with a flare of confusion showed in her eyes.
“This whole thing—all of it, has been about us.”
“How can you say that?” Piper shook her head. “She met both of us, once, as kids, and we barely had a few moments together. Why on earth would anyone base part of their inheritance, their wealth, on a brief meeting and two kids she didn’t know?”
He opened his arms. “Because she’s Margaret Smith. And while that might not seem sensible to us, apparently, for a lady who liked to play cupid, it seemed like fun to her.”
Piper took a few steps back, almost staggering, before she caught herself on one of the shelves. “How can you know this?”
“Much like you, I had a long walk over here, and I’d just spoken to Mr. McNally. I had a long time to think things through.”
“Mr. McNally was at the park?”
“He appeared after you left, along with the bartender who’d set up the cocktail bar. It was all planned. I’m just not sure if Margaret Smith planned those details, or that was Mr. McNally himself.”
“This can’t be true.” Piper was shaking her head, her hair strands coming loose from their ponytail band. “I mean, anything could have happened to us. We could have moved away. Got married. Had kids. What would have happened to her plans then?”
“I don’t know. All I do know is that Margaret Smith planned for us to work together on solving these clues. She wanted us to resolve our differences. She wanted us to get along. Become friends. Become more than friends.”
There was silence for a few moments, and Dawson could only hear her breathing. He knew she was processing. Just like he had all the way over.
