over and sniffed at Gray's hands.
"He likes me."
"He's easily charmed. Let me up or I'll tell him to bite you."
"He wouldn't. I just gave him trifle. Let's just sit here a minute, Brie. I'm too weak to bother you."
"I don't believe that for a minute," she said under her breath, but relented.
Gray cradled her head on his shoulder and smiled when Con rested his on her lap. "This is nice "
"It is."
She felt a little crack around her heart as he held her quietly in the dim light from the stove while the house settled m sleep around them.
Chapter Six
Brianna needed a taste of spring. It was chancy, she knew, to begin too early, but the mood wouldn't pass. She gathered the seeds she'd been hording and her small portable radio and carted them out to the little shed she'd rigged as a temporary greenhouse.
It wasn't much, and she'd have been the first to admit it. No more than eight feet square with a floor of hard-packed dirt, the shed was better used for storage than planting. But she'd imposed on Murphy to put in glass and a heater. The benches she'd built herself with little skill and a great deal of pride.
There wasn't room, nor was there equipment for the kind of experimentation she dreamed of. Still, she could give her seeds an early start in the peat pots she'd ordered from a gardening supply catalog.
The afternoon was hers, after all, she told herself. Gray was closeted with his work, and Mr. Smythe-White was taking a motor tour of the Ring of Kerry. All the baking and mending were done for the day, so it was time for pleasure.
There was little that made her happier than having her hands in soil. Grunting a bit, she hefted a bag of potting mix onto the bench.
Next year, she promised herself, she'd have a professional greenhouse. Not a large one, but a fine one nonetheless. She'd take cuttings and root them, force bulbs so that she could have spring any time of year she liked. Perhaps she'd even attempt some grafting. But for the moment she was content to baby her seeds.
In days, she mused, humming along with the radio, the first tender sprigs would push through the soil. True it was a horrid expense, the luxury of fuel to warm them. It would have been wiser to use the money to have her car overhauled.
But it wouldn't be nearly so much fun.
She sowed, gently patting dirt, and let her mind drift.
How sweet Gray had been the night before, she remembered. Cuddling with her in the kitchen. It hadn't been so frightening, nor, she admitted, so exciting, as when he'd kissed her. This had been soft and soothing, and so natural it had seemed, just for a moment, that they'd belonged there together.
Once, long ago, she'd dreamed of sharing small, sweet moments like that with someone. With Rory, she thought with an old, dull pang. Then she'd believed she'd be married, have children to love, a home to tend to. What plans she'd made, she thought now, all rosy and warm with happy ever after at the end of them.
But then, she'd only been a girl, and in love. A girl in love believed anything. Believed everything. She wasn't a girl now.
She'd stopped believing when Rory had broken her heart, snapped it into two aching halves. She knew he was living near Boston now, with a wife and a family of his own. And, she was sure, with no thought whatever of the young sweet springtime when he'd courted her, and promised her. And pledged to her.
That was long ago, she reminded herself. Now she knew that love didn't always endure, and promises weren't always kept. If she still carried a seed of hope inside that longed to bloom, it hurt no one but herself.
"Here you are!" Eyes dancing, Maggie burst into the shed. "I heard the music. What in the world are you up to in here?"
"I'm planting flowers." Distracted, Brianna swiped the back of her hand over her cheek and smeared it with soil. "Close the door, Maggie, you're letting the heat out. What is it? You look about to burst."
"You'll never guess, not in a
"He likes me."
"He's easily charmed. Let me up or I'll tell him to bite you."
"He wouldn't. I just gave him trifle. Let's just sit here a minute, Brie. I'm too weak to bother you."
"I don't believe that for a minute," she said under her breath, but relented.
Gray cradled her head on his shoulder and smiled when Con rested his on her lap. "This is nice "
"It is."
She felt a little crack around her heart as he held her quietly in the dim light from the stove while the house settled m sleep around them.
Chapter Six
Brianna needed a taste of spring. It was chancy, she knew, to begin too early, but the mood wouldn't pass. She gathered the seeds she'd been hording and her small portable radio and carted them out to the little shed she'd rigged as a temporary greenhouse.
It wasn't much, and she'd have been the first to admit it. No more than eight feet square with a floor of hard-packed dirt, the shed was better used for storage than planting. But she'd imposed on Murphy to put in glass and a heater. The benches she'd built herself with little skill and a great deal of pride.
There wasn't room, nor was there equipment for the kind of experimentation she dreamed of. Still, she could give her seeds an early start in the peat pots she'd ordered from a gardening supply catalog.
The afternoon was hers, after all, she told herself. Gray was closeted with his work, and Mr. Smythe-White was taking a motor tour of the Ring of Kerry. All the baking and mending were done for the day, so it was time for pleasure.
There was little that made her happier than having her hands in soil. Grunting a bit, she hefted a bag of potting mix onto the bench.
Next year, she promised herself, she'd have a professional greenhouse. Not a large one, but a fine one nonetheless. She'd take cuttings and root them, force bulbs so that she could have spring any time of year she liked. Perhaps she'd even attempt some grafting. But for the moment she was content to baby her seeds.
In days, she mused, humming along with the radio, the first tender sprigs would push through the soil. True it was a horrid expense, the luxury of fuel to warm them. It would have been wiser to use the money to have her car overhauled.
But it wouldn't be nearly so much fun.
She sowed, gently patting dirt, and let her mind drift.
How sweet Gray had been the night before, she remembered. Cuddling with her in the kitchen. It hadn't been so frightening, nor, she admitted, so exciting, as when he'd kissed her. This had been soft and soothing, and so natural it had seemed, just for a moment, that they'd belonged there together.
Once, long ago, she'd dreamed of sharing small, sweet moments like that with someone. With Rory, she thought with an old, dull pang. Then she'd believed she'd be married, have children to love, a home to tend to. What plans she'd made, she thought now, all rosy and warm with happy ever after at the end of them.
But then, she'd only been a girl, and in love. A girl in love believed anything. Believed everything. She wasn't a girl now.
She'd stopped believing when Rory had broken her heart, snapped it into two aching halves. She knew he was living near Boston now, with a wife and a family of his own. And, she was sure, with no thought whatever of the young sweet springtime when he'd courted her, and promised her. And pledged to her.
That was long ago, she reminded herself. Now she knew that love didn't always endure, and promises weren't always kept. If she still carried a seed of hope inside that longed to bloom, it hurt no one but herself.
"Here you are!" Eyes dancing, Maggie burst into the shed. "I heard the music. What in the world are you up to in here?"
"I'm planting flowers." Distracted, Brianna swiped the back of her hand over her cheek and smeared it with soil. "Close the door, Maggie, you're letting the heat out. What is it? You look about to burst."
"You'll never guess, not in a
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