Page 72 of The Queen of Roses

“Hello!” she called over the sound of him sawing.

He stopped and looked up, pulling down the bandana he wore covering his mouth. “Hi.”

“What happened here?” she asked, gesturing to the branch as the scent of freshly cut wood drifted over to her.

“We got some wind last night. Did you hear it down in Pasadena?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There was a construction accident on the new Foothill Freeway they’re building. I stayed late to help make calls and fell fast asleep as soon as I got home.”

It had been almost exhilarating, picking up the phone to call law enforcement and other sources, trying to get them to answer questions so that they could put together the story before the paper went to press. She’d done a good job—she knew she had—because her editor, Phil, had clapped her on the shoulder, just like he did with the rewrite reporter, and told her so.

“Get some sleep,” Phil had said. “There’s more to do tomorrow.”

She hoped that meant she would be sent out on a second-day story, but she had been at the Herald Times long enough to know she should temper her excitement.

“Miss Pearce is around back waiting for you. I think she’s looking forward to it,” Matt said.

“She canceled on me last week.”

“That’s strange. I didn’t see her car pull out, so it’s not like she went anywhere. When did she call you?”

“Friday evening. She caught me at work. Can I get around this without causing you too much trouble?” she said, gesturing to the branch.

He took off his glove and held out his hand to her, guiding her over the fallen branch. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but she liked the gesture and the feeling of his calloused hand in hers.

“Thanks,” she said.

She left him to get back to his work, this time going around the side of the house rather than through it. She found Miss Pearce ready, refreshments already set out in front of her in a nod to the day’s rising thermometer.

Miss Pearce spotted her and gave her a little wave. “Miss Johnson, it’s good of you to come. I thought we would have lemonade today.”

“I’m glad to be here. I was worried you might have decided to stop our Saturday mornings,” Theresa said as she sat down.

Miss Pearce scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. If I had decided that, I would have told you myself. I am nothing if not forthright.”

She smiled. “I have no doubt. Where would you like to begin?”

“I think,” said Miss Pearce, “that it is high time that I tell you about my garden.”

November 19, 1906

The Gables, Pasadena

Dear Mrs. Barnes,

I have decided that the time has come to turn my attention to the garden at Rosewood House. Given your own experience creating the garden at Oleander House, I would appreciate any guidance you might be able to give me as I begin to plan.

Additionally, my gardener and caretaker has recently retired. Would you or your head gardener happen to know of anyone who might be suitable for the position? It comes with the use of the caretaker’s cottage at Rosewood House.

Yours respectfully,

Mrs. Guy Whitley

November 19, 1906

The Gables, Pasadena

Hatchards