Love's First Bloom by Delia Parr Page A

the man had come here looking for her—in which case she would have to pack, take Lily, and disappear this very night. Or she could remain calm and rational, dismiss Jake Spencer as a minor annoyance, and return to the everyday rhythm of her life here for just another day or two until her father sent word that his plans for their future were finally in place.
    She chose the latter course of action, and almost immediately a plan took shape in her mind.

Twelve

    “Finally!”
    Jake quickly turned off the sandy trail and disappeared into the thick of the forest the moment he spied the young Widow Ruth Malloy crossing the bridge at the head of the river. From his hidden vantage point, he waited until she turned down the path that led to the garden she had ignored for the past three days before tucking the crook of the cane over his arm. He then hurried back to his cabin, surprised that she was returning in late afternoon rather than at the break of day as had been her custom.
    And that she was not alone.
    Keeping the shore of the river in view, he worked his way through scrub pines, stands of fragrant cedar trees that towered over him, and wild mountain laurel that had burst into bloom just yesterday. He was nearly out of breath by the time he reached the cabin and rushed inside.
    Caught off guard and unprepared, he gathered up a few of the newspapers lying on top of the stack on the floor near the hearth. He grabbed the single straight chair sitting by the front window and carried everything outside. He set the chair into place facing the river, exactly where he had planned to put it tomorrow morning, hung his cane on the back of the chair, and plopped down into the seat.
    With his heart pounding with anticipation, he had a newspaper in his hands and had started reading just in time to hear her voice as she approached the bend in the path behind him.
    “It’s not much farther. There. Now take my hand and hold tight. Once we get there, you’ll be able to play, just like I promised.”
    Several moments later, he heard a flurry of small footsteps followed by heavier ones. “Come back here. Lily, no! You mustn’t run off. Lily!”
    He nearly choked on the chuckle he was trying to swallow when a tiny pair of hands smashed the newspaper he was holding into his chest, and a pair of big blue eyes twinkling with a bushel of mischief stared up at him. Ribbons taut at the base of her throat kept the bonnet the little girl was wearing from falling to the ground, and late afternoon sun shined brightly on the mass of blond hair that curled around her face.
    “Play,” she squealed and tore off a corner of the newspaper when he tried to keep her from grabbing the newspaper away from him. His cane slipped off the chair and fell to the ground without distracting her.
    Engaged in a tug of war with the impulsive little girl, he decided she was definitely not as delicate or fragile as her name implied. He stiffened, waiting for her mother to intervene, but Lily proceeded to tug at his hands with impunity. “Play! Lily play!”
    He snorted. “Have you no control over your child? Or did you bring her here to subject me to her tantrum?”
    His question brought Ruth to the child’s side, but she made no effort to stop Lily or pull her away. “She’s not having a tantrum. She’s simply excited. I assure you, if you knew Lily as well as I do, you’d know the difference,” she explained. Her smile was as sweet as her voice, and she simply stood there as if she were completely oblivious to his distress or her child’s ill-behavior.
    “I have no desire to know her at all, but I was hoping for a bit of peace this afternoon to enjoy my newspaper.”
    “In the middle of my garden?” She turned a bit and waved her hand in frustration, which simmered in the depths of her eyes. “You haven’t got enough room outside? Or inside your cabin? You had to sit here?”
    He glanced down at the ground, shrugged, and tried not to look smug. “This