Home to Eden (11 page)

"That's pretty much what happened last year,"

Kate said, smiling at the accuracy of his description. "We did a booming business for a couple of weeks, though."

"It's good for business," Nick agreed. "When I was a kid, the cafe on the comer down from the library was called Selma Ann's because Selma Ann Carver owned the place. But she changed the name to Eve's because she figured the tourists would love it. She was right."

"Is that why half the items on the menu have apples in them?"

"Yep." Nick nodded. "When I was about twelve, one of the local farmers grew the biggest pumpkin in the state. It must have been a slow week for murder in L.A. because a news crew came out to do a segment on this pumpkin. The dust hadn't even settled behind them before Selma Ann borrowed a typewriter and typed up a new menu. She stuck apples in just about everything on it. Even the burgers came with applesauce on the side. She doubled the prices while she was at it"

"Didn't that upset her regular customers?"

''No, because she kept two sets of menus—one for the tourists and one for the locals."

"Is that legal?" Kate asked, throwing him a startled look.

"I don't think the Better Business Bureau would have approved," Nick said dryly. "But she made enough extra off the tourists that year to spend a week on the beach in Maui, sunbathing and surfing."

"Surfing? Selma Ann?" Kate goggled at him. She'd met Selma Ann Carver. The woman was short and bone thin, with leathery skin and a face so full of lines that it looked like a topographical map of the Sierra Nevada. She claimed to be older than dirt and Kate believed her. The image of her sunning and surfing in Hawaii was enough to boggle the mind. "Selma Ann on a surfboard?"

"So she said." Nick shrugged. "She's mean enough and tough enough to do just about anything. You know that kid's poem that says something about the goblins will get you if you don't watch out? I always figured whoever wrote it must have known Selma Ann."

Kate was startled into laughter. "I can believe it. I once saw her harangue a customer for taking too long to order. She told him since he couldn't make up his damned mind, he could damn well eat what she damn well chose to bring him and if didn't like it, he could take his damned indecision to some other damned place. I don't know what she brought him but he ate it without question. I didn't blame him. She scares me to death."

Nick chuckled. ''Sounds like she hasn't changed a bit. She always— What the hell is that?"

He came to a dead stop and stared in disbelief at the structure in front of him.

"It's a barn." Kate's answer was calm but her mouth curved in an understanding smile at his shock.

"Barns are red. Or white. Or maybe a weathered kind of gray." Nick blinked as if to clear his vision but the image didn't change. "That thing is purple.''

"Wistful Wisteria," she corrected. "That's the name on the paint can. Brenda thought it would be a good idea, sort of in keeping with the general theme of the place, you know."

"Was she drunk at the time?" Nick demanded.

"I don't think so," Kate said a little regretfully. She almost wished her friend had been drunk. It made her uneasy to think that Brenda could make a decision like this while stone-cold sober.

The bam had even fewer pretensions to grandeur than the house. A plain, rectangular building with a peaked roof, it put function way above form and it seemed to Kate that it wore its new coat of paint with a faintly embarrassed air, as if it knew exactly how silly it looked.

"It's certainly...eye-catching." Nick said, groping for something positive to say.

"That's one way of putting it. I've hear more vivid descriptions. Gareth threatened to cite us for breaking some sort of visual pollution law."

"It looks like a menace to society to me. Someone with a weak heart could keel right over if they came upon it unexpectedly."

"Did I hear someone taking my name in vain?"

Kate's giggle ended on a startled gasp and she turned too quickly, nearly overbalancing. Nick's hand came out to steady her as Gareth stepped off the gravel path behind them. She pulled away from that light touch, guilt washing over her. There was no reason to feel guilty, she reminded herself, drawing a deep, calming breath. At least no reason to feel guilty for anything that had happened recently.

"Gareth!" She went to greet him, lifting her face for his kiss, ridiculously conscious that Nick was watching them.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Gareth said, smiling as he looked at his younger brother. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against his side.

''I'm standing in for Harry," Nick said easily. His gaze flicked to where his brother's hand rested on her hip and Kate fought the urge to pull away from that familiar touch.

She was engaged to Gareth, not to Nick, she reminded herself. And God help her for needing that reminder.

"Were you admiring Brenda's taste?" Gareth asked, nodding to the bam.

Nick shook his head. "I'm not sure 'admiring' is quite the right word. I've got to admit it's a little awe-inspiring, though."

"It's god-awful," Gareth said bluntly.

"That about sums it up," Nick agreed, smiling a little.

"Did you come by to arrest Brenda for bad taste?" Kate asked. She noticed a yellowed leaf on a young sweet gum tree and reached to pull it off. The move shifted her a little away from Gareth and his hand dropped away from her.

"No such luck," he said, grinning. "Actually, I came by to see if I could persuade you to sneak out for lunch. I've got an hour or so before I have to go back to the station."

"Oh, I wish I could but I just got back from lunch," Kate said, aware that her regret was not as sincere as it might have been.

"You could always come watch me eat," he coaxed. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was casually intimate, and she was aware of Nick turning away, focusing his gaze on the pale bark of the sapling closest to him. Kate was annoyed with herself for being so aware of him that she noticed his slightest move.

"I wish I could, but I just sent Jim home for the afternoon because he was looking tired. That just leaves me and Nancy."

"I thought I saw Brenda's car out front," he said.

"You did. Like I said, that just leaves me and Nancy." Kate's tone was dryly affectionate. "You know Brenda prides herself on not knowing the difference between a fern and a cactus."

Gareth smiled, but he looked disappointed. "I haven't seen much of you lately."

"I know." For some reason, Kate found her eyes drawn to Nick. He was looking at the trees and seemed oblivious to her conversation with Gareth. With an effort, she pulled her attention back to Gareth. "You can't blame me for that," she said lightly. "You're the one who's spending so much time in L.A."

"I know." He looked guilty, but only for a moment. "I think this program can really make a difference, though. Gangs aren't just confined to the big city anymore and I—"

"You don't have to convince me." She cut him off with a smile. "I know what you're doing is important and I'm not complaining."

He smiled and brushed his knuckles across the curve of her cheek. "I'm the one doing the complaining. Between your job and mine, it doesn't seem like we have much time for each other. I hope we're not going to have to schedule time to see each other after we're married."

"Me, too." She smiled, her gaze darting over his shoulder to where Nick stood, apparently absorbed by the information on the plant care label he held.

"You're sure you can't make lunch?"

"I wish I could." Kate hoped her regret didn't sound as false to him as it did to her. The truth was, she didn't feel like going out to lunch with Gareth today. Not because of any specific thing or person— she simply had too much work to do.

"If you're sure I—'' Gareth's beeper went off, interrupting him. He unhooked it from his belt and looked at the number display. "I need to call the station."

"You can use the phone in the office," Kate told him, gesturing toward the main building.

"Unless it's an emergency, I'll be back," he promised.

He left an oddly tense silence behind. Kate folded the yellowed leaf she held and didn't look at Nick.

"What kind of tree am I supposed to be looking at?" he asked, and the prosaic question made her realize how foolish she was being. Why should she feel uncomfortable about Nick seeing her kiss his brother? She dropped the mangled leaf and gave him a bright smile.

"We just got in a couple of bauhinias. I think one of them would look great on the west side of the gazebo."

"The gazebo that's falling down?" Nick asked politely.

"It's not falling down. It just needs a little attention."

"Preferably from a wrecking ball," he murmured as he followed her down the far row of trees.

'It's a wonderful architectural feature, perfectly in keeping with its surroundings."

"You mean it's suffering from years of neglect, just like everything else."

"Well..." Kate slanted him a look that was half reproach, half laughter. "I guess that pretty much sums it up."

Nick grinned. "So, let's see this Bohemian that's going to make the whole place look new again."

''Bauhinia," Kate corrected him. "And I didn't say it was going to work miracles, just that I thought it would look good next to the gazebo. It's a fairly small tree—around twenty feet or so at maturity. It blooms in the spring and the flowers look a little like orchids. This is bauhinia blakeana. The flowers are larger than the ones on the forflcatas and the tree itself is more umbrella shaped, which I think would be good for that spot."

Nick looked at the slender sapling next to her. It looked pretty much like every other tree in the place—scrawny trunk, skimpy leaves, no sign of flowers and nothing to indicate any future tendency toward looking like an umbrella. She was looking at him, obviously waiting for him to express an opinion.

"Looks great," he said. To show his sincerity, he reached out to tug at a branch. "Really great."

"That's a pomegranate," she said dryly. She pointed to the tree on her other side. '''This is the bauhinia."

"Ooops." Nick grinned sheepishly. He shrugged. "They all look great. Who can tell the difference?"

"Let me pull this out so you can get a good look at it. Not that you can really tell all that much, I suppose." She crouched and took hold of one side of the tapered wooden box that held the tree's roots.

"Here. Let me help you." Nick crouched next to her and reached for the box. "This looks heavy."

"I'm used to maneuvering them," Kate said. Uncomfortably aware of his closeness, she grabbed the comer of the box too quickly and then jerked away with a gasp of pain as something tore into the tender flesh at the base of her thumb. "Ouch!"

"Let me see." Nick moved so quickly that she caught only a glimpse of blood welling against her skin before his hands closed over hers, blocking her view.

'^It's not bad," she said automatically, though it was already throbbing.

"Let me see," he said again, cupping his hands around hers.

His voice sounded oddly distant, as if he was a long way off. He was looking at her hand but Kate had the feeling that he was seeing something else entirely. Then the thought drifted away and she became aware that her hand felt warm where he was touching her. It was a deep, soothing kind of warmth that rolled over the pain, a part of it even as it soothed it.

Time seemed to hold its breath, slowing the moment so that Kate could count each beat of her pulse, could feel Nick's pulse beating in rhythm with hers. The gentle warmth spread up her arm and crept through her body, sinking into her bones. She felt a sense of contentment, a sense that all was right with the world.

Her breath slipped from her in a soft sigh and she had to force open eyes she hadn't even been aware of closing. Nick lifted his head and looked at her, and Kate thought it just might be possible to lose herself in his eyes. For a moment—less than a heartbeat—she felt as if she saw directly into his soul, just as he saw into hers.

Then he looked away and the moment was gone, leaving her with an indefinable feeling of loss.

"You're right. It isn't that bad," he said, his voice husky.

"What?" Kate blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. She looked at her hand as he released it and felt the sense of unreality deepen. Where there had been a cut was...nothing.

"Barely even a scratch," Nick said as he stood. She thought he swayed a little but she couldn't be sure. At the moment, she felt as if she couldn't be sure of anything. She rose slowly, her eyes still on her hand.

"There was a cut." She looked at him as if demanding confirmation. "I saw blood."

Nick looked surprised, but Gareth's return prevented him from saying anything.

"I'm going to have to go in early," Gareth said as he approached them. "I guess it's just as well you couldn't make lunch." His smile faded as he looked from Kate to Nick. "What's wrong?"

"I... I cut myself," Kate said, holding out her uninjured hand as if offering evidence. "At least, I thought I did."