In the Garden Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

couple of days. Let’s see if we can put you in some boots so you don’t ruin those very pretty shoes. I’ll show you around.”
     
    THE BOOTS WERE TOO BIG, AND THE ARMY-GREEN rubber hardly flattering, but the damp ground and crushed gravel would have been cruel to her new shoes.
    Her own appearance hardly mattered when compared with the operation Rosalind Harper had built.
    In the Garden spread over the west side of the estate. The garden center faced the road, and the grounds at its entrance and running along the sides of its parking area were beautifully landscaped. Even in January, Stella could see the care and creativity put into the presentation with the selection and placement of evergreens and ornamental trees, the mulched rises where she assumed there would be color from bulbs and perennials, from splashy annuals through the spring and summer and into fall.
    After one look she didn’t want the job. She was desperate for it. The lust tied knots of nerves and desire in her belly, the kinds that were usually reserved for a lover.
    “I didn’t want the retail end of this near the house,” Roz said as she parked the truck. “I didn’t want to see commerce out my parlor window. Harpers are, and always have been, business-minded. Even back when some of the land around here was planted with cotton instead of houses.”
    Because Stella’s mouth was too dry to speak, she only nodded. The main house wasn’t visible from here. A wedge of natural woods shielded it from view and kept the long, low outbuildings, the center itself, and, she imagined, most of the greenhouses from intruding on any view from Harper House.
    And just look at that gorgeous old ruby horse chestnut!
    “This section’s open to the public twelve months a year,” Roz continued. “We carry all the sidelines you’d expect, along with houseplants and a selection of gardening books. My oldest son’s helping me manage this section, though he’s happier in the greenhouses or out in the field. We’ve got two part-time clerks right now. We’ll need more in a few weeks.”
    Get your head in the game, Stella ordered herself. “Your busy season would start in March in this zone.”
    “That’s right.” Roz led the way to the low-slung white building, up an asphalt ramp, across a spotlessly clean porch, and inside.
    Two long, wide counters on either side of the door, Stella noted. Plenty of light to keep it cheerful. There were shelves stocked with soil additives, plant foods, pesticides, spin racks of seeds. More shelves held books or colorful pots suitable for herbs or windowsill plants. There were displays of wind chimes, garden plaques, and other accessories.
    A woman with snowy white hair dusted a display of sun catchers. She wore a pale blue cardigan with roses embroidered down the front over a white shirt that looked to have been starched stiff as iron.
    “Ruby, this is Stella Rothchild. I’m showing her around.”
    “Pleased to meet you.”
    The calculating look told Stella the woman knew she was in about the job opening, but the smile was perfectly cordial. “You’re Will Dooley’s daughter, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “From ... up north.”
    She said it, to Stella’s amusement, as if it were a Third World country of dubious repute. “From Michigan, yes. But I was born in Memphis.”
    “Is that so?” The smile warmed, fractionally. “Well, that’s something, isn’t it? Moved away when you were a little girl, didn’t you?”
    “Yes, with my mother.”
    “Thinking about moving back now, are you?”
    “I have moved back,” Stella corrected.
    “Well.” The one word said they’d see what they’d see. “It’s a raw one out there today,” Ruby continued. “Good day to be inside. You just look around all you want.”
    “Thanks. There’s hardly anywhere I’d rather be than inside a nursery.”
    “You picked a winner here. Roz, Marilee Booker was in and bought the dendrobium. I just couldn’t talk