The Garden Tour Affair: A Gardening Mystery Read Free

helping her widower father run his inn and his other businesses. In the end, she discovered, there was nothing more sterile than a lifetime of business with no husband or children. What she
did
have was a flourishing mansion inn, and two relatives whose ardent regard for her she sometimes questioned. Was the affection for her, or for her money?
    With a shake of her head, she dismissed these thoughts, for before her on the eighteenth-century table was the work of the day: the job assignment list and the guest list, neatly typed by her assistant Elizabeth on mansion stationery.
    She heard Teddy coming, and her heartbeat quickened. He was humming a peppy tune under his breath and snapping his fingers in time. Full of life, full of energy, Teddy Horton was the person who made her life worth living. In the past three years, he had become almost like a grandson, forgoing college to work for her at the inn. At twenty-one, he had finally quelled his adolescent acne and the awkwardness following a growth spurt that shot him up to well over six feet. Anyone might have thought him an ignorant country bumpkin, for he had all the attributes: a longish face, washed-out blue eyes, uneven teeth, turned-up nose, and an unruly cowlick atop his brown hair. But Barbara knew differently: The smart Teddy was her trusted right hand.
    She hoped he hadn’t noticed her admiring her reflection in the highboy.
    “It’s a full house, Teddy. Look at this list so you’ll know who’s coming. That way—”
    He crossed over to her in three strides. “That way,” he said, finishing her sentence for her, “I can take care of the
sticky
problems.” To dramatize his words, he bent down and executed a drumbeat flourish on the tabletop with his long fingers. Then he straightened up and gave her a big grin.
You have nothing to worry about with me around here
, the grin said. And it was true: Teddy would go to any lengths to meet the most outrageous guest demands. Paying special attention to the lonely and unhappy ones. Deftly separating quarreling children. Tossing in a quiet, remedial joke when he saw a couple suffering from the strain of vacationing together.
    She looked fondly up at him. He was standing there in homely splendor, seeming to flex every muscle in his body. His whole being exulted in being alive and young and strong. Barbara suspected that, besides being the result of his natural enthusiasm, this was due to the weight lifting he did in the inn’s basement when he was between household duties.
    Again, she was reminded of her own sorry physical state: still shapely, to be sure—actually, too thin—but with honeycombed bones, and now this new blow: a nerve infirmity in her legs. She didn’t mind aging; she simply wasn’t used to being
decrepit
. She unconsciously pushed at her bundled mass of whitened blond hair to be sure it had not gone askew again. At least her
hair
remained healthy, although her legs would give out as the day wore on. By dinnertime, they would be trembling with fatigue.
    “Well, Teddy, a number of the guests this weekend are relatives. Stephanie, of course—”
    “Uh-hmm,” he said appreciatively, leaning in to look at the list, shoulder to shoulder with Barbara. “I like your niece.”
    “Such a lovely young woman. I only wish she could come more often.” Her tone grew more reserved. “And, of course, her husband will be along again.”
    “Neil, the developer.” He turned his head away, as if to avoid a bad smell. “Well, the man’s handsome, all right, and he’s got a happenin’ head of blow-dried hair.”
    Barbara giggled. For a moment, the years seemed to melt off her. “By a happenin’ head of hair, I assume you mean good. Neil Landry
does
have good hair, if nothing else.” Her eye returned to the list. “Now, here’s someone you like: my nephew, Jim Cooley. He’ll be accompanied by Grace, of course—”
    “Oh, yes, Grace—I mean, Mrs. Cooley.”
    “He’s also bringing his business partner