Stella paused and turned to the woman wearing baggy jeans and a ragged sweatshirt. "Yes, ma'am, I do. I'm Stella. How can I help you?"
"I can't find the columbine, or the foxglove or... I can't find half of what's on my list. Everything's changed around."
"We did do some reorganizing. Why don't I help you find what you're looking for?"
"I've got that flat cart there loaded already." She nodded toward it. "I don't want to have to be hauling
it all over creation."
"You're going to be busy, aren't you?" Stella said cheerfully. "And what wonderful choices. Steve?
Would you take this cart up front and tag it for Mrs ... I'm sorry?"
"Haggerty." She pursed her lips. "That'd be fine. Don't you let anybody snatch stuff off it, though.
I spent a good while picking all that out."
"No, ma'am. How are you doing, Mrs. Haggerty?"
"I'm doing fine. How's your mama and your daddy?"
"Doing fine, too," Steve lifted the handle of her cart. "Mrs. Haggerty's got one of the finest gardens in
the county," he told Stella.
"I'm putting in some new beds. You mind my cart, Steve, or I'll come after you. Now where the hell's
the columbine?"
"It's out this way. Let me get you another cart, Mrs. Haggerty."
Stella grabbed one on the way.
"You that new girl Rosalind hired?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"From up north."
"Guilty."
She pursed her lips, peered around with obvious irritation. "You sure have shuffled things around."
"I know. I hope the new scheme will save the customer time and trouble."
"Hasn't saved me any today. Hold on a minute." She stopped, adjusting the bill of her frayed straw hat against the sun as she studied pots of yarrow.
"That achillea's good and healthy, isn't it? Does so well in the heat and has a nice long blooming season."
"Wouldn't hurt to pick up a few things for my daughter while I'm here." She chose three of the pots,
then moved on. As they did, Stella chatted about the plants, managed to draw Mrs. Haggerty into conversation. They'd filled the second cart and half of a third by the time they'd wound through the perennial area.
"I'll say this, you know your plants."
"I can certainly return the compliment And I envy you the planting you've got ahead of you."
Mrs. Haggerty stopped, peering around again. But this time with speculation. "You know, the way you got things set up here, I probably bought half again as much as I planned on."
This time Stella offered a wide, wide smile. "Really?"
"Sneaky. I like that. All your people up north?"
"No, actually my father and his wife live in Memphis. They're natives."
"Is that so. Well. Well. You come on by and see my gardens sometime. Roz can tell you where to find me."
"I'd absolutely love to. Thanks."
* * *
By noon Stella estimated she'd walked ten miles.
By three, she gave up wondering how many miles she'd walked, how many pounds she'd lifted, how many questions she'd answered.
She began to dream about a long, cool shower and a bottomless glass of wine.
"This is wild," Hayley managed as she dragged wagons away from the parking area.
"When did you take your last break?"
"Don't worry, I've been getting plenty of sit-down time. Working the counter, chatting up the customers.
I wanted to stretch my legs, to tell you the truth."
"We're closing in just over an hour, and things are slowing down a bit. Why don't you find Harper or
one of the seasonals and see about restocking?"
"Sounds good. Hey, isn't that Mr. Hunky's truck pulling in?"
Stella looked over, spotted Logan's truck. "Mr. Hunky?"
"When it fits, it fits. Back to work for me."
It should have been for her, too. But she watched as Logan drove over the gravel, around the mountains formed by huge bags of mulch and soil. He climbed out one side of the truck, and his two men piled out the other. After a brief conversation, he wandered across the gravel lot toward her.