look out of the corner of her eyes. “For real? Like Mayberry?”
Kristina laughed. “Not quite, but something like that.”
“I’m still going to wash the dishes for you.”
Jade was eminently salvageable. Infinitely worth rescuing. But as prickly as a catfish. She’d need to move carefully with her.
She laid her hand on Jade’s shoulder, squeezed and moved away before Jade could react. “You may be the best houseguest I’ve ever had. I’m not going to want you to ever leave.”
A small smile curved Jade’s mouth before she turned the smile into a frown.
“There’s something else you could help me with today.”
Jade turned on the faucet. “What’s that?”
“I’ve got to cut some flowers in my yard.”
Jade plugged the drain and squirted detergent under the spray of water. “Why?”
“For an altar arrangement at the worship service tomorrow.”
Jade’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know anything about flowers.” She scrubbed the plates.
“I could use your help. It’s a two-person job, especially when it comes to transporting the vases.”
“Whatever.”
Taking that as near to an affirmation as she’d get, Kristina dried while Jade finished washing the dishes. “Go get your coat. It’s cold outside.”
Jade took the stairs two at a time and returned with her coat.
Retrieving a plastic bucket from underneath the sink, Kristina filled the bucket halfway with lukewarm water. She lifted the bucket out of the sink and set it between them.
After donning her own coat, she extracted a flat, open basket from the confines of a Hoosier-style cupboard. “Tools of the trade.” She laid two orange-handled clippers inside the basket.
Jade heaved the bucket of water. “I’ll carry this for you.”
Kristina smiled. “Thank you, Jade. That’s so considerate of you.”
To illustrate how little she cared, Jade scowled.
Note to self—praise Jade more often for good work.
The basket on her arm, Kristina shoved open the door with her shoulder. Lugging the bucket, Jade sloshed into the backyard.
“Morning is the best time to cut flowers, when the stems are fully hydrated. In the heat of the day, the petals droop.”
Jade shot a scoffing look at the overcast winter sky. “What heat?”
Kristina headed toward a bright spot of pink blooming amid a profusion of dark green leaves. Placing the basket on the ground, she motioned for Jade to set the bucket alongside.
The look on Jade’s face was comical when Kristina handed her one of the clippers. “You want me to cut the flowers?”
Kristina took the other pair and opened the blades along a stem line. “Look for a branch with multiple buds. One bud should show color and another just starting to open.”
Jade reached for a higher branch. “Like this one?”
“Good eye.” Kristina positioned her clippers. “Now slice at a forty-five-degree angle about an inch from the bottom. Where it joins the main stem line.”
“I can’t.” Jade backed away. “I’ll butcher the bush.”
Flagging self-confidence. Kristina recognized the feeling all too well. And refused to be put off by Jade’s thorny demeanor.
“Just try. No harm, no foul.”
The teenager glared. “That sounds like something Canyon would say.”
Kristina tilted her head. “Even if you mess up the first time, you’ll do better the next. The flowers will grow back.”
Jade made an elaborate shrug. “It’s your bush. Don’t blame me when I kill it.”
They worked in silence. Cutting flowers was not the time to dilly-dally. It was important to immerse the cut stems immediately.
“Pruning the shrub is actually good for the long-term health of the plant.”
Jade eyed Kristina. “How’s that?”
“Master gardeners know that periodic cutting promotes future flowering. Like deadheading.”
Jade snorted. “Sounds like a zombie heavy metal band.”
“What do you mean?”
“Deadheading. You know, zombies.” Jade tapped her forehead. “Dead. Heads.”
Kristina laughed. “Did you make a joke, Jade Collier? A gardening joke?”
“Don’t tell anyone.” Jade batted her long dark lashes. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
Kristina wanted to tell her she didn’t need so much mascara on those lovely eyes of hers, but instead she deposited her clippers in the basket. “I think we have enough for the arrangement.”
Jade took charge of the flower-laden bucket. “Are you a master gardener, Kristina?”
She held the door as Jade trudged inside. “No, I just like flowers. Put the bucket on the table, please.”
Kristina put away the basket and laid several sharp cutting knives on the farm table. “Can I hand you the vases?”
Stretching, she removed several vases from the top shelf of the cupboard. She passed them one at a time to Jade and then carried a third one to the table.
With her finger, Jade traced the ivy vine across the front of one of the crackled, black-footed vases. “These look old.”
“My mother’s.”
The girl sighed. “Canyon says this used to be his grandmother’s house before she died. He and Beech grew up here.”
Kristina frowned. “I didn’t realize it was a family home when I bought it.”
Which was crazy. Of course it had been some family’s home. She just hadn’t thought about it being Canyon’s family home.
It made her pulse race to think of him here. Which was ridiculous. But it was strange thinking of a younger Canyon living here.
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