“Drip hoses, self-watering pots. Low-maintenance.”

“Honey, this is … ambitious to say the least. And even if I said yes, you can’t take on all this expense.”

Darby tracked her gaze up to Emily’s. “We had a house. I sold it. And sold the business. Then there was my mom’s life insurance. I’ve run a business already, and I have a business plan now. This is an investment in that. If you like it, you might hire me to do another bungalow. You’ll tell your neighbors I do good work. They’ll see it for themselves.”

She sat back on her heels. “You run a business, so you know what goes into it. Yours came through your family, too, so you know the pride and responsibility of that. Worst case, you don’t like my vision once it’s realized. Best, you do. And there’s a lot between worst and best.”

So young, Emily thought, but good God, confident.

“You’re taking all the risk.”

“I’ll be doing what I love, and what I’m good at. I have a degree in landscaping, and one in business management, and I’ve worked in the field for fourteen years. I’m confident in my skill, enough to offer this knowing you’re going to be happy with the result. If you let me try.”

“God, girl, you really know how to make a pitch.”

Now Darby flashed a smile that danced into those deep blue eyes. “It’s part of my charm.”

“If I agreed, when would you start?”

Inside her head, Darby pumped fists in the air. “If you say go, I can have the slate and builder’s sand I have on hold here this afternoon.”

“On hold?”

Darby’s smile only pumped up brighter. “Optimism’s also part of my charm.”

“I don’t know why I’m more nervous about this than you are, but I am.” There was something, Emily thought, something about the girl. “Okay, Darby, we’ll try it out.”

“I want to yell yay, but the baby fell asleep. I’ll wait until I’m outside.” But she gripped Emily’s hand. “You won’t regret it.”

“Lord, honey, I hope you don’t.”

“Not a chance. I am really damn good at this.”

“Aren’t you going to need help? Stone has to be heavy.”

“Stronger than I look, but I’ve got a helper in mind. Joy and Frank said Roy Dawson’s a good worker.”

“He is,” Emily agreed. “Affable, too. He mostly does odd jobs. He’s prone to wander from one to the next, when the whim strikes him.”

“So they said. Anyway, I talked to him yesterday. He said he’d give me a hand, so I’ll give him a call.” Darby pushed to her feet. “Thank you, Emily. I’m going to send you my client list—you can contact anyone on it. I shut down our web page when I sold, but you can still get to some of it. I’ll send you the URL.”

She blew out a breath. “Now I’m going to go get started.” She bolted for the door, stopped. “I’m going to make you a low-maintenance showpiece.”

Emily sat, a little shell-shocked, and heard the echoing “YAY!” as Darby raced back to the cabin.

CHAPTER NINE

 

Roy Dawson proved a good and affable worker. He sang or whistled as he worked, didn’t haggle about salary, and had no problem taking cash as payment as casual labor until Darby’s business license came through.

A beefy guy with a scraggly beard, he wore more scraggly hair under a faded New Orleans Saints gimme cap. With his help, Darby removed the old gravel, widened the existing path, leveled it, poured the builder’s sand.

Though she wanted the path to look organic, she rented a wet saw to trim some of the slate to suit her. The first time she used it, Roy had shaken his head.

“I’ve seen girls use saws before, but never seen one use one of those. You’re a caution, Miss Darby.”

He wouldn’t drop the Miss, so Darby ran with it.

And since the man was as strong as a pair of oxen and didn’t quibble about sweaty work, they had the path nearly done in two days.

“Here come the po-lice,” Roy said as she laid the level on the next piece of stone.

Darby looked around when the cruiser pulled into the driveway.

The man who got out had a strong build, a lot of gray shot through his hair. He didn’t wear a uniform, but jeans and a T-shirt.

Rising, Darby brushed off the knees of her own jeans, hoped she didn’t smell too bad after a day of hauling and placing stone.

“Hey there, Roy. Ms. McCray. I’m Chief Keller, Emily’s husband.”

“Nice to meet you.” She pulled off a work glove to shake. “I’m grateful for the opportunity here.”

“I haven’t had a chance to get down, take a look before this. You’re damn near done with the walk. Looks—it looks good.”

“Miss Darby says it won’t have grass growing up in the cracks. She’s gonna plant stuff there instead.”

“Irish moss. You’ll have Irish moss planted by somebody named Darby McCray—it’s lucky. We’ll finish the stone today.”

“I have to say, it makes a difference.”

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” She grinned at him.

“Well, what I see looks pretty good. I came down to take a look, and to let you know the town planner said your business license came in.”

“It did? Oh my God. Oh my God, Roy, we’re in business!” She threw her arms around him, made him blush bright red, then swung away to dance.

“She’s a caution,” Roy told Lee.

“I can see that.”

It took most of a week to lay the patio, mortar the joints. Then she dug in, literally.

In Roy’s truck—she’d trade her car in for one of her own when her first job was finished—they loaded her selected plants in the bed. For this job, she dealt exclusively with Joy and Frank. Nothing too fancy. She selected the pots, the annuals, and because it struck her as just right, a good-size wind chime she’d hang on a branch at the edge of the woods.

She ended each day filthy, sweaty, and blissfully happy.

After each completed project, she took pictures. She needed to build her website again.

She dug, planted, placed, pruned, edged, spread the yards of mulch Roy hauled in his truck.

He stood back as she placed a pot on the front porch.

“It looks a picture, Miss Darby. I swear I can’t hardly believe I had a part in it.”

“You sweat—and you bled a few times. You had as much a part as I did. That’s why you’re going to be my first official employee.”

“Oh, now, Miss Darby—”

“I’m not going to take no.” She knelt to fill another pot with the flowers she’d picked. “You already know I’m a good boss, I know you’re a good worker. You’ve got a good eye for this work, too, which is why I’m giving you a dollar raise over what I’ve been paying you. Starting tomorrow.”

“You said we’re done here today. We got no work tomorrow.”

“We will have.” Please, God. “If we don’t, you’re going to go with me to look at that house I’m thinking about. If I buy it for the business, I’m going to need to build a greenhouse. And an equipment shed.”