UFTA by Sofie

Chapter One


Elana looked about herself and struggled to hold back the tears that
had been building ever since she arrived. This was what she had
driven 3000 miles for? The torn plastic flapped in the wind. A shower
of raindrops pelted in upon her and she shifted her position up
against the potting bench, away from the gaping hole in the arch of
the greenhouse wall. The smell of decaying vegetation filled her
nostrils. The shelf which ran the length of the greenhouse had
collapsed, spilling plastic pots, rusted tools, and containers of
fertilisers and herbicides in a haphazard mess at her feet. Behind
her, row upon row of fledgling plants were bone dry and brittle. The
only things lush and green were the weeds that had forced their way
through almost everything and flourished in a wild tangle where the
shredded plastic had exposed this far end of the greenhouse to the
elements. And the other five greenhouses were no better. Her
shoulders sagged at the enormity of the job that lay ahead of her.
She leaned over to pick up a bent trowel, a rusted cutting knife, and
pulled at a weed that had engulfed a stack of pots in its trailing
branches. She turned, searching for a place to put them. The whole
thing was futile! A wave of bitterness swept through her and with an
oath she hurled them at the dingy mottled plastic that stretched up
around her. Maybe selling wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Running feet alerted her to Cody's return. She dragged the back
of
her hand across her cheeks to erase her tears and faced the doorway.
He was rushing up the centre path, his eyes shining.

"Mom, mom! I found pumpkins." He threw himself into her arms.
"Isn't
this place the greatest?"

~

Of all the mistakes Elana had made in her young life, perhaps the
worst was that day in '92 when she had committed herself heart
and
soul to Greg Wilkins. At the time she thought he was the answer to
all her dreams. She was twenty, in love, and believed his promise to
love honour and cherish her till death did they part. She had no
reason not to.

When Elana was sixteen her grandmother had died, leaving a sizeable
fortune to be divided among her only son, his wife, and their three
young daughters. Tom Barnes had been shocked at the full worth of the
inheritance – his mother had quietly sat on the nest egg without
telling a soul – and, in truth, he really had no idea how to go
about
disbursing it. He had a lot of respect for his eldest daughter's
common sense, so he created a checking account for Elana and put the
bulk of her quarter million dollars into term deposits and mutual
funds. When she was eighteen his name was removed as a co-signer and
it was, in fact, all hers to do with as she liked. The two other
girls were much younger so Tom merely put their money in trust for
them.

Tom Barnes' faith in Elana was not entirely misplaced. She was
much
like her grandmother. She did not tell a soul about her inheritance
and she did not spend freely. But money is insidious and can't
help
but influence a person, especially one so young. She went to college
straight after high school with no real goal in mind, so she chose
general studies. She enjoyed the college social life and her marks
reflected her lack of effort and attendance. With all that money
guaranteeing security she had little motivation. The temptation to
travel was great and she often joined one group of friends or other
for a week at some tropical paradise. Anything to escape
Ontario's
cold winters.

While Elana had a large circle of friends she had trouble finding a
steady boyfriend. She was pretty enough and not shy by any stretch,
but she was not willing to give out, and as soon as dates turned into
groping matches her firm `no' usually put an end to any
budding
relationship. At nineteen and a half she had begun to think herself a
hopeless case. One night, after breaking up with a great looking guy
who she really had thought might be different from all the rest, her
girlfriends took her out on the town to console her. She didn't
normally drink much, but she was feeling reckless and didn't pay
attention to the amount of daiquiris they kept buying her. It
wasn't
long before the guys from the neighbouring table joined them.

Greg sat beside her and began commiserating with her about the jerk
who had dumped her. He was blonde with the most candid blue eyes she
had ever seen. And he was gorgeous. He told her he had seen her
around campus and wanted to meet her for quite some time. He swept
her off her feet and got her loaded in the process. Too loaded to be
circumspect about what she said to him. Too loaded to remember
anything in the morning. And he never enlightened her about the
things she had given away – her reluctance to enter into a casual
sexual relationship, her desire for love, and her financial status
–
but he used them to his advantage. The next morning she woke up in
his bed, fully clothed, while he slept on the living room couch. She
was overcome with relief that nothing had happened – that
she'd been
with a person who had morals and integrity. Greg earned her respect
that morning.

He was amazing. They saw each other regularly from that day. He
treated her to dinners, took her to shows and never attempted
anything beyond a few sweet kisses. In fact he had her yearning for
more. She skipped classes to hang out with him. They talked, laughed,
shared their innermost dreams, and then one night he proposed while
they were out under the stars. Nothing could be more perfect.

Elana wanted him to come home and meet her family but he insisted
that he could not leave work for the trip to Kingston. Instead they
ran off one weekend to Niagara Falls with only Greg's best friend
and
his wife as witnesses. Anyway, he had assured her, it would be so
wonderful to surprise them with the fait accompli. So two weeks later
they drove into her parents' driveway, Elana happier than she had
ever been, Greg brimming with charm and confidence.

Frances Barnes was ecstatic. Her daughter, married, and to such a
handsome man. Everything about him exuded success – his clothes,
his
self-assurance, the huge diamond on her daughter's finger.
Katrina
and Marisa couldn't believe their sister had caught such a hunk.
Tom
Barnes held back. He didn't want to hurt Elana by not accepting
her
husband immediately, but there was something about Greg that set his
hackles rising. He was too smooth and there was a look in his eyes as
they rested upon Elana that Tom did not trust. It was too much like
avarice. He shook himself mentally, knowing that his reaction could
be a jealous one. If asked, he would have to admit that he didn't
think anybody good enough for his favourite daughter. But what he
wanted, above all, was her happiness, and without a doubt she was
happy.

Tom's concern for his daughter led him to ask her how she had
protected her inheritance and he was shocked to learn that she
considered all her and Greg's assets shared. He may not have
brought
as much money into the marriage as she but he had his up and coming
business career and his investment savvy. He promised to double their
capital in record time and she had every faith that he could do it.
Tom's heart sank, but rather than put a wedge between himself and
his
daughter he kept his worries to himself.

The wedge, however, became firmly planted. Greg drove it there
himself. Though before their marriage he had assured Elana he wanted
nothing more than to settle close to her family's home and hearth
in
Kingston, he now insisted that they had to move to Halifax. It was a
promotion and Elana could not help but accede. Later he confessed
that he worried that her father disliked him and he wanted more than
anything to prove himself to the man. He promised they would visit
often for holidays, but time and again those promises had to be
broken as business matters intervened. Elana, wanting to be the best
wife that she could, supported him in everything he did. She could
not understand how her father could not see all her husband's
obvious
good qualities. She remembered his subtle coldness to Greg when they
had visited, and she unconsciously started to draw away.

Greg bought a new Porsche Boxter. She thought it a little extravagant
but his patent joy at owning such a vehicle was irresistible. And he
insisted it was for both of them, and that they deserved to spoil
themselves once in a while. For their six-month anniversary he bought
her the most beautiful emerald earrings and pendant. He said nothing
was too good for her and she tried her best not to think about how
much they cost.

They leased a luxury apartment in the downtown area. She would have
rather had a rancher out in the suburbs, but he said this was better
for business entertaining, not that they entertained too often in the
end. Elana spent her days wandering from aesthetic room to aesthetic
room, looking out the windows at concrete and glass, escaping to the
gym, and living for the evenings when Greg would be home and her life
would be full again. She took gourmet food classes, cooked lavish
dinners, and made the most of their time together. And he never once
omitted to tell her how much he loved her every day for that first
year. As it stretched to two, and then three, he was almost as
loving, but here and there cracks appeared in the façade of their
perfect marriage. He worked later, often had to go away on sudden
business trips, and became very jealous of anyone Elana spent too
much time with. He discouraged her from going back to school though
she found her days empty and unfulfilled. He put off all the trips
they planned to Ontario. He discouraged visits from her family.
Sometimes he drank too heavily and then he became resentful and mean.
He always insisted on having sex on those nights, even though she
said no. And he was always remorseful in the mornings. He begged her
forgiveness. He showered her with attention. He promised her the
moon. And she always forgave him. One of those mornings as he lay in
her arms telling her how much he adored her, he confessed that work
was not going well, some investments had failed, and the stress of
hiding it from her was causing his erratic behaviour. She was more
understanding than ever.

They moved into a smaller apartment in an older building. It had
character and charm. Elana enjoyed decorating it and their love
flourished. It was like the first year again. Business improved,
investments picked up, and Greg finally gave in to Elana's desire
to
start a family. The first three months of her pregnancy he almost
waited on her hand and foot, then he found it more and more difficult
to take time away from his business obligations. He missed most of
the childbirth classes but made an attempt to read the books. At
least, he told Elana he did. She went into labour unexpectedly two
weeks early – she couldn't contact him on his cell phone.
Cody was
born without his father present but the next morning Greg appeared at
Elana's bedside with half a florist's shop and more metallic
blue
balloons than she had ever seen. He took his son in his arms, joined
her on the bed, and they spent the morning weaving stories of the
tiny boy's future.

Elana had never experienced the kind of love that she felt when she
first laid eyes on Cody. All she wanted to do those initial few weeks
was hold him in her arms. It didn't bother her that Greg
didn't so
much as change a diaper; she was happy to do everything for the
little love. Greg had promised to bring her family out, but in the
end it was only Frances that came. She stayed a week doting on her
grandson, flirting with her son-in-law, and allowing Elana to run
herself ragged cooking and cleaning for the lot of them.

The first few months of Cody's life, Elana was so involved with
the
baby that she didn't notice Greg's waning attention or lack
of
interest in the boy. Her mornings were no longer empty, and when he
went on business trips, which he did more and more frequently, she
was no longer lonely. When he told her that he had to go to New York
for a three-month stint, she accepted it without concern; when it
stretched to six months, still she did not worry. They talked
regularly and he always said he loved her. He sent her gifts. When he
came home for Cody's first birthday it was as if he had never
been
gone. Two weeks later he was back in the Boxter and on his way to
Toronto, his fervent kisses on her lips. He never called. He never
came back. It took a notice from her landlord saying that rent was
three months past due for her to realise that she and Cody had been
deserted.

Finances had been taken out of her hands upon her marriage. Elana
hadn't so much as balanced a bankbook since Greg had taken
charge.
She'd had implicit faith in him. It had been entirely misplaced.
She
was shocked by the notice from the landlord, devastated by Greg's
abandonment, torturing herself about what she may have done to drive
him away, worried that something terrible had happened to him, and
desperately trying to hold everything together for the sake of her
child. She went to the manager's office, wrote a check for the
entire
balance, and apologised profusely. The next day, when she was paying
for a cartload of food and diapers at the grocery store, her credit
card was dishonoured. She tried another but it was over the limit
too. Her debit card would not accept the transaction. Red faced and
confused she scraped together all the cash she had in her pockets and
the bottom of her purse and then selected the bare necessities from
the bags around her while the people in line glared and complained.

There was much worse to come. A visit to her bank showed her that she
had no term deposits, no mutual funds, not so much as a bank balance.
The rent check could not go through. She was destitute and homeless.
Tears did not come. This was a time for action, not reaction. She
returned to the apartment, met with the manager and apologised once
again, promised to pay what was owed, and was given till the end of
the month. Her first thought was the emeralds. They were sure to
cover the rent and give her enough for a deposit on a new place. No
matter how much they meant to her she knew she had to sell them.
Anyway, how much did they really mean now, after her betrayal? She
had always been willing to share all she had with Greg. It seemed
that wasn't enough. He'd wanted everything for himself. And
he had
from day one, she told herself bitterly. The emeralds were not in her
jewellery box. Or Anywhere. That explained Greg's final visit
home.
Elana tried to forget the fun they had shared, their kisses, the love
they had made. The whole fabric of her life had unravelled. If it had
not been for Cody the emptiness would have been complete and she
would have lost herself to the wind. But she had to stay together for
him. They fed off each other and made it possible to survive through
a time more grim than anything she could conceive.

Her engagement ring did not bring enough to pay the back rent. She
sold the furniture, her clothes, anything anyone would take off her
hands. She found a dingy basement suite and put almost all her cash
into her new landlord's eager hands. She knew she should go home,
back to her parents in Kingston, but she could not face the enormity
of what had happened. She could not admit to how totally she had been
duped. She let pride take over and vowed that she would show the
world that she had the strength and sagacity to stand on her own two
feet. As if the world even cared.

Elana refused to put Cody into day-care so that she could work. She
also refused to go on welfare. That would never be an option.
Receiving all that money at the age of sixteen, she had never worked
a day in her life. She was twenty-five, a single parent, and had no
work experience. Her options were extremely limited. At the local
Laundromat she noticed a bulletin board with community notices,
things for sale, and help wanted advertisements. She took down all
the numbers of people that needed day-care. A week later she had two
more toddlers to take care of. Luckily they were both sweet kids, if
very active, and what little she made paid the bills, just barely.
Every night she lay down at seven with Cody, completely exhausted,
and slept through until six am when he was ready to start his day.

A year later she got a job at a day-care centre. They let her bring
Cody with her. The pay was only marginally better, but the advantages
were more than she had ever expected. It got her out of her tiny
apartment, she met new people, and she began believing in herself
again. She worked there until Cody was in Kindergarten. His school
experience convinced Elana that she needed to move to a better
neighbourhood. She found the dark basement suite oppressive too, and
longed to be somewhere light and bright and open. In September she
found a job out in the suburbs at a tropical nursery growing indoor
plants. She knew nothing about plants besides that they needed
watering and weeding, but her employer was impressed by her sincerity
and determination. Her hours enabled her to drop Cody at school on
her way to work and pick him up on her way home. She couldn't ask
for
anything more, except a place to live within walking distance of both
establishments. She ended up in another tiny basement suite, but at
least this one had windows.

She was ready to make peace with her family, but not to become
dependent on them. Her parents visited - a poignant and warm reunion
that showed her just how very much she had missed them. She thought
her heart would burst as she watched her dad and Cody play together
in the rambling back yard. Her mother even made an effort not to
voice her regrets about Greg too often. They wanted her to come home
and live with them, but she refused. Her father recognised her fierce
need for independence but he insisted on buying her a used car for
her birthday and paying for a lawyer so that she could finally get a
divorce and rid herself of her connection to Greg.

The day that Cody's second year of elementary school ended, three
things happened. Elana's divorce became final and she had full
custody of Cody, the only outcome she really cared about. The
nursery, which had been having financial problems, closed down for
good, leaving her unemployed once again, and she finally came to the
realisation that holding out because of pride was foolish; she wanted
to go home. Everything that didn't fit into the Volvo was sold in
a
garage sale or donated to Goodwill. Within a week Elana and Cody
began the long drive to Kingston.

You can't go home. The home Elana was searching for no longer
existed. It hadn't existed for nearly twelve years. She
wasn't with
her parents a week before she realised that what she had really
wanted was her old life back – before Greg Wilkins had turned it
upside down. But her life was Cody now and there was only one
direction she could go. Forward.

Gone was the house of her childhood. Her parents now lived in a large
modern house that was overly decorated. Katrina and Marisa were both
married, happily for the present. Her father had insisted on prenups
to protect their investments. It was a joy to have a few weeks of
complete relaxation but Elana knew that she had to do something to
start creating a new life for her and Cody. One evening her father
called her into his office and laid out a proposition that seemed
like the answer to everything. It meant moving away again, but it
also gave her control over her destiny.

His uncle had died about five years before leaving him a property on
Vancouver Island. It was five acres in the agricultural land freeze,
and it had a small greenhouse business upon it. Tom had left it in
the hands of a realtor all that time, so the business was not
operational, but the house had been rented out and kept up, and there
was a groundskeeper installed to maintain the outbuildings. A
neighbouring equestrian centre wanted to buy them out, but he had
refused to sell. He had given Elana money once before and it had not
worked out – this time he was offering her opportunity. In his
mind
it had always been hers, but he had waited to transfer it to Elana
until Greg had no further claim on her. He knew that if that vulture
had any idea that Elana had equity he would have slithered back to
charm it away from her.

Elana studied the pictures in the file her father had given her. A
cute rancher and six plastic covered greenhouses. It was not the same
type of operation as she had worked in, but she thought she knew
enough about the business to give it a shot. Besides, what she had in
tenacity and drive more than made up for what she lacked in
expertise. It appeared idyllic; bordered by Douglas fir and hemlock,
a mild West Coast climate, and no one to answer to but herself.

The decision made, Elana and Cody enjoyed the rest of their summer
with the family; barbecues, swimming outings, evenings out on the
deck reminiscing about her childhood. The plan was to take the Volvo
across Canada after Labour Day weekend. A young associate of
Tom's
was recruited to help with the driving in return for being dropped
off in Vancouver to visit his mother. The ferry trip to the Island
and drive up from Nanaimo to Courtney was the only leg of the journey
Elana and Cody had to make on their own. In Courtney she met up with
the realtor and was given keys and directions to her new home. He
looked a little cagey and suspicious as he passed over the final
documentation for Elana to sign, releasing his services. He reminded
her that there was still an offer standing upon her property and
suggested that it was really in her best interest to sell. Elana
could not get out of his office fast enough.

As directed, she drove through the next two sets of lights and found
herself on Headquarters Road. She drove past the high school and the
fairgrounds and then took the second turning to the left. Haven Road.
She thought it somewhat portentous and felt all the eager
anticipation of finally arriving at her destination after such a long
and tiring journey. She barely took in the well-maintained fencing
and elaborate entranceway of Stewart Stables. All she cared about was
her five acres. She almost missed the driveway; it was overgrown and
rutted. As she manoeuvred around the potholes she kept her eyes open
for the first view of her house. When she broke through the trees all
she could think was, `That picture dad had must have been taken
well
over five years ago; nothing could fall to ruin so quickly,
surely.'
She parked the car. In a stunned state and with a chill creeping
throughout her system she took Cody's hand and wandered back,
behind
the dilapidated house, and began a slow trudge from one greenhouse to
the next. Her haven was looking more and more like an albatross.

~

*Running feet alerted her to Cody's return. She dragged the back
of
her hand across her cheeks to erase her tears and faced the doorway.
He was rushing up the centre path, his eyes shining.

"Mom, mom! I found pumpkins." He threw himself into her arms.
"Isn't
this place the greatest?"*

Cody was the one constant in her life. Her reason for living. Elana
couldn't disappoint him, not when she saw such anticipation in
his
hazel eyes.

"Yes, hon, this place is awesome." And at that moment she
knew she
was going to make something of it, come hell or high water.


Chapter Two

Elana awoke to the warm glow of brightness that filtered through the
dust-grey windows of her room. Instead of peeling wallpaper, drab
carpeting, and the sagging bed that Elana had given up in favour of
her air-mattress on the floor, she saw the possibility of what the
room could be. It was spacious with high ceilings and large windows.
She pictured butter-yellow walls, oak furniture, a tawny spread, and
a thick rug at her bedside in rich forest green, sienna, and umber. A
room that would fill her with warmth even on the drizzliest mornings.
She pulled her sleeping bag up to her chin and looked at Cody
sleeping beside her, his arms flung out, his breathing deep. The
morning was cold so she adjusted his sleeping bag, which had worked
itself down to his waist. He muttered something unintelligible but
did not wake.

After he'd found her in the greenhouse he had taken her to the
pumpkin patch. The rampant vines were rambling through a clearing
behind a large shed and intertwining among trees at the edge of the
forest. The pumpkins ranged in size and shape, round, squat, oval,
and showed a vivid orange against the green of the vines and weeds.
Cody ran to a huge one and threw his arms around it. "Can I have
this
one to carve?"

At that moment an old man came around the side of the shed.
"Who's
wanting my prize pumpkin?" he asked in a friendly voice. He wore
a
plaid shirt, faded jeans and gumboots. His grey hair was long and
tied back in a ponytail; he had a scruffy beard on his face. He
walked up to Elana and held out his hand. "You must be the new
owner,
come to inspect the place. I'm Sam Jardin."

"I am the owner," said Elana. "But I'm not here just
to make an
inspection; I'm here to live. I'm Elana Barnes and this is my
son,
Cody."

"You're going to be living here?" asked Sam in surprise.
"Collier
said you were selling to Stewart."

"Mr Collier is wrong. He might want me to sell, but it's
nothing to
do with him. He's not involved in this place anymore. Are you his
caretaker?" She put special emphasis on the word and looked back
at
the almost derelict greenhouses.

"Me? Work for him? He's never hired anyone to tend to this
place. He
just took advantage of the fact that I decided to squat here and keep
it from being vandalised further. I used to work here way back, when
it belonged to old Bennet Thompson. About two years ago I came by and
found out the old man had died and the place was in holding. I
couldn't believe the shambles it was in. There was a family
living in
the house that just threw their garbage out the back door. Teenagers
would come and get drunk out by the greenhouses and then try to knock
them down. I needed a place to live so I took over the old lunchroom
back here." He waved his arm in the direction of the shed. "I
just
couldn't stand to see everything that Bennet had worked all his
life
for destroyed. Now you're here I guess I'll have to be going.
I hope
your husband is prepared to do a lot of hard labour and has a chunk
of money to sink into this place. It's not going to be easy, but
I'm
glad you people are taking it on. I never wanted it to be up and sold
only to be bulldozed by Darien Stewart and turned into paddocks."

"It's only Cody and me here, Mr. Jardin. I don't have a
husband –
this place is mine and I'll be fixing it up on my own."

"Then you'll need to hire a good crew. I could give you the
name of
someone who won't cheat you."

"I don't have a chunk of money. I'm pretty well flat
broke. You see –
I never expected anything like this. My dad has been paying
maintenance for the last five years. The pictures we have show a well
cared for operation. The house . . . the house . . ." Elana
couldn't
go on. She knew if she did she would start to cry.

"The house ain't as bad as it seems. Or the greenhouses,
really. If
you've got time and aren't afraid of hard work you could do
it by
stages, get one greenhouse up and running, then two – you
know?"

Elana warmed to the man. She knew nothing about him besides what he
had told her, but for some reason she believed everything he had
said. He cared about the place, and that was important. She needed
someone to help her. He was old, but he looked strong. "Would you
be
willing to stay here and help me? I . . . I can't pay you
anything
yet, but you'll still have somewhere to live. I'll give you a
share
of the profits – if there are profits."

"*When* there are profits. You got yourself a deal, little lady.
Now
let me show you around, and you can see what I have growing
here." He
turned to Cody. "Do you like gardening son? I could use a helper
with
my harvest. I promise you first choice of the pumpkins."

"Okay!" Cody jumped up and down. "Mom! The big pumpkin
really is
mine!"

Sam Jardin showed them raspberry canes and a small strawberry patch,
both finished for the season, and a wild expanse of blackberry bushes
heavy with sweet dark fruit. There were apple trees and pears. In the
end of one greenhouse there were tomatoes flourishing. Carrots,
cabbages and potatoes grew alongside the old lunchroom –
Sam's home.
He invited them in and Elana noticed that though it was untidy, it
was clean. The long wood table, still there from the lunchroom days,
was up against one wall and served as a kitchen counter as well as an
eating place. Shelves lined the wall above, and in the back was a
huge, old wood cook-stove. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, and there
was a bed against the other wall. Sam told Elana that there was a
bathroom with a shower that had been there for the staff in the old
days. "You don't have to worry about me – I'm really
cosy in here,
even in the dead of winter," he said. "I've spent the
better part of
two years getting it just the way I like it."

Cody was very impressed and didn't want to leave when he'd
found a
litter of kittens curled up in a box in one corner. He picked up a
grey one and held it to his cheek. "Oh, mom – can I have one?
I've
never had a pet."

"We don't know if Mr. Jardin is planning on giving them
away," said
Elana.

"If your mom says it's okay, you can have whichever one you
want,
Cody, but they can't leave their mother just yet. And call me
Sam,
both of you, please."

"Thank you, Sam. You can call me Elana, too." She went over
to the
box and looked at the kittens with Cody. "Which is your
favourite,
hon?"

"The grey one – can I have it?"

"Yes." She kissed his nose.

"I'll call it Smeagol."

"No! Not after Gollum!" said Elana in mock horror.

"Look how cute he is, with such a big head and round eyes.
Anyway,
when Gollum was Smeagol he was nice."

"That's true, and this guy looks like a real sweetie. Now
let's go
see what else Sam has to show us."

They toured the greenhouses again while Sam explained what was
growing in the beds now, and what had been grown in the past when it
was a thriving venture. They ended up at the house where Sam showed
how it was structurally very sound. All the damage was superficial:
broken, boarded up windows, dangling shutters, collapsed front
steps. "There had been people living here up until about four
months
ago, but Collier would never make any repairs. He had a hard time
finding tenants to live in this squalor with the amount he was
charging them."

Elana thanked Sam and he arranged to come by in the morning to help
her make the house habitable. In the waning light she cleared a place
in one bedroom for the air mattress and set up the bed. She only
brought in their packs and left everything else in the car. After
that she drove into town with Cody and they ordered a pizza. They
parked by the estuary and ate it as the sky darkened over the still
water.

~

Elana set the camp stove up on the kitchen counter and opened a
window. Soon she had water boiling for tea, and eggs and bacon
sizzling in the frying pan. She tried not to look at the grime and
mess that surrounded her. The last tenants had just left whatever
they didn't want where it lay and a layer of thick dust had
settled
on everything. Elana made a list in her mind. Go into town and
arrange to get the phone and power connected, buy cleaning supplies,
drop in on that scum-bag Collier and give him a piece of her mind.
She couldn't afford to sue him for what he'd done but he
would hear
from her.

When Sam knocked on the back door, she hardly recognised him.
He'd
trimmed his hair and shaved his beard. She realised that he was
younger than she'd thought the day before – closer to sixty
than
seventy.

"Hey, if I'm going to be working for you, I thought I should
look a
bit more respectable and less like the old hippie I am. Is Cody up
for picking some tomatoes with me while you go into town?"

Elana looked at Cody and he nodded.

"Okay – he can stay with you – he'd only get bored
while I do my
business."

"Yeah! Can we see Smeagol before we work, Sam?"

"Of course you can. You can meet the mother, Twilight, now too.
You
have to be real quiet though because she's a bit skittish."

Elana smiled as she watched them walk off between the greenhouses,
then she closed the window and finished the dishes. An hour and a
half later she had organised for the electricity to be connected
later that day; the phone service couldn't be hooked up for two
more
days. She had loaded up with brooms, mops, garbage bags, and
assorted environmentally friendly cleaning products. She parked
outside of Bob Collier's realty office and took a big breath. She
checked her reflection in the mirror and ran a brush through her
hair. She hated confrontations, but Collier just couldn't get
away
with taking advantage of people like that. She entered the office and
was asked to take a seat until Mr. Collier was free. She picked up a
magazine and absently started leafing through it, but all the time
she kept going over and over in her mind everything that she planned
to say to him.

The bell over the door rang again as two men entered the office.
Elana heard them ask for Bob Collier and she looked up. There was no
way the receptionist was going to let them in to see him first. Elana
didn't miss the tone in the woman's voice. It was almost
reverent.

"Mr. Stewart, how are you? Good morning, Mr. Bingham. Mr Collier
won't be a moment. Would you like a coffee while you are
waiting?"

The taller of the two just looked at the deferential young woman and
nodded, but the other smiled cheerfully and accepted coffee for both
of them. When the receptionist left the room to prepare their drinks,
the taller one said. "Let's get this over with as soon as
possible,
Carl. Collier has wasted too much of my time. Now he's feeding us
this outrageous story about the owner turning up and wanting to get
the business operational. He'll say anything to try and get me to
raise my offer. It's intolerable the way the guy runs his
business.
Do we really have to deal with him?"

Elana stiffened. What were they talking about?

"He's the most underhanded realtor I know," replied Carl,
"but he's
represented this guy for five years. I don't think the owner has
a
clue what the land is worth. Your offer is more than generous."

"I know that! Whoever he is should just take the money and run. I
don't know what Collier's game is – he lets the place go
to ruin and
is still hanging out for more money. The owner's got to be just
as
unscrupulous as Bob is to allow such neglect, but I tell you, Carl,
I'm just plain sick of living beside a garbage dump, with welfare
bums for neighbours. I'd really pay anything to get rid of that
eyesore."

As Elana listened her anger grew. It was more than obvious that this
was the illustrious Darien Stewart who had been trying to buy her
place as long as her father owned it. How dare he think she was just
like that slime-ball Collier?

"Maybe the owner is going to develop it now."

"That place? The only thing to do with it is set a match to it!
It's
a verminous blight on the landscape. Only a fool would attempt to
restore it."

"Well, I guess that makes me a fool then!" Both men turned
around to
see Elana standing there, her eyes blazing. The receptionist returned
at that moment and almost dropped the coffee. "I'm the owner
of the
greenhouses and your new neighbour, Mr Stewart. You'll be happy
to
know that you don't have to deal with the unscrupulous Mr.
Collier
any more. He doesn't work for me. If you have any further offers
to
make on my place, you have to deal directly with me, and I'll
tell
you once and for all, I'm not selling."

She looked over to see Bob Collier standing in the open doorway of
his office. Turning to the receptionist she said, "It appears
that
Mr. Collier is ready to see me now, so I'll go right in." She
turned
her back on the men who were still standing as if frozen and walked
past Bob Collier and into his office. He was left with no other
choice but to close the door and address her.

"Ms Barnes – you can't mean what you said to Mr. Stewart.
I can
straighten the whole thing out with him right now. You don't want
to
be on his bad side. He is very influential. I'm sure if I speak
nicely to him and apologise for your outburst we can enter back into
negotiations. I've been working on him for years – he's
practically
eating out of my hand. You'll get more from Stewart than anyone
else."

"Have I not made myself clear, Bob? You do not work for me. You
are
lucky I'm not suing the pants off you. Stewart thinks you are
unscrupulous, but you are much worse than that. You are a lying,
thieving bottom-feeder. You cheated my father for five years,
charging him for caretaking and maintenance that was never performed.
You never even bothered to find decent tenants. Is this your normal
modus operandi? I am amazed that you have any clients at all. I'm
willing to tell anyone who is interested that you can be trusted only
to cheat them."

~

Outside the office, Carl Bingham apologetically declined the
coffees. The receptionist didn't seem to notice. Every word
Elana
spoke came clearly through the thin walls. Darien Stewart had to
grudgingly admire her directness. She was a fool, to be sure, to take
on such a losing venture, but she had spunk. He still wanted her
derelict greenhouses gone and he wasn't about to let a little
thing
like her adamant, I'm not selling get in his way. She didn't
know
whom she was taking on. After listening to most of her tirade, he
tapped Carl on the arm and they left the office. However, it was a
long time before the image of her fiery eyes left him.

~

Elana swept past the receptionist without a glance in her direction
and so missed the look of admiration on that woman's face. When
she
got to her car she was shaking. She opened the door and climbed in
before she was overwhelmed. Leaning on her steering wheel, she gasped
for breath as her head spun. What had she just done? She had never
stood up to anyone that way before. She didn't regret a word that
she
had said, not after the way that arrogant Darien Stewart had
belittled her and her decision to rebuild her business. If it was the
last thing she did, she was going to prove to him that she was not a
fool. She was going to build it up to be a viable venture and there
was nothing he could do to prevent her, no matter how influential he
was.

The image of Bob Collier's astonished face rose up before her and
she
suddenly began to laugh. After she had done yelling at him he had
almost grovelled at her feet, begging her to re-hire him, coming up
with all sorts of pathetic excuses for why the greenhouses and house
had become neglected: illness, incompetent employees, untrustworthy
tenants. He even insisted that Sam Jardin was his employee, but he
had not been doing his job and was really the one who had cheated
them both. Elana didn't buy a word of it. She told him she never
wanted anything to do with him again As she walked out of his office
he had begged her not to go to one of his competitors, and especially
not to deal with Carl Bingham. The guy would only cheat her. That was
a laugh! As if she already hadn't been cheated.

She wiped her streaming eyes, not sure if the tears were primarily
from her fury or her laughter. She strapped herself in and put her
car in gear. After a quick stop at Subway for two footlongs, she
drove back along Headquarters road and turned up the now familiar
Haven Road. She drove slowly by Stewart Stables this time, giving it
a much deeper appraisal than she had on the other few times she had
driven past. Everything she could see looked picture perfect: neat
white fences, trim barns, sleek horses grazing in the fields, and way
at the back of the property, hidden by outbuildings and trees, the
shingled gables of what had to be a house of mansion proportions. For
a moment she was struck with the incongruity of the two properties
being side by side and fleetingly wondered how she would feel about
the decrepit greenhouses if she owned this paradise. But then she saw
someone walk out across a field and lean against a fence, calling to
one of the horses. He was tall and lithe, and from the way he held
himself she was certain it was Darien Stewart. All thoughts of
sympathy left her. She remembered his harsh words and she felt a
tight knot harden in the pit of her stomach.

Chapter Three

Cody came running out to meet Elana when she returned. Her anger had
not yet completely dissipated, especially not after having been
resurrected by the sight of her offensive neighbour, but she put it
aside and greeted Cody with enthusiasm equal to his own. He chatted
merrily as he helped unload all the cleaning supplies. Sam came up
too and told her he was going to ride his bike down the road a bit to
get a friend who owned a truck. They had both eaten a snack while she
was out so Elana put the subs in the cooler.

"Hey mom, what's this?" asked Cody as he was unloading the shopping
bags.

"A disposable camera. I'm going to take pictures of everything so
when we get it all fixed up we'll never forget how terrible it looked
when we started. Then we'll take new pictures and we'll have a before
and after record."

"Can I take some pictures?"

"Sure – I'll show you what I want and help you get the angle and you
shoot. We'll start with an outside shot, do the house, and then go
out back."

As depressing as the subject matter was, Elana had fun sharing the
task with her eager young son. He came up with some good ideas for
shots and even managed to talk Elana into sitting in the pumpkin
patch for a picture with his favourite pumpkin. She returned the
favour.

After that was done they got straight to work filling garbage bags.
Starting in the filthy living room, they planned to work their way
through the whole house. It was easy – everything had to go. Elana
couldn't be bothered to sort for recyclables; she just wanted the
whole mess cleared out. She threw all the restless energy from her
pent-up anger into the job and set a brisk pace that Cody didn't even
attempt to match.

After about an hour, Sam returned with his friend Dennis who had a
beat up old pick-up and a smile a mile wide. It seemed there was
nothing he would rather be doing than loading his truck up with
garbage and driving out to the dump.

"It'll be great to see this place cleaned up," he said, when Elana
offered to pay him for his trouble. "All I need is the dump fees."

"Well, you're not going to stop me from feeding you," she countered.

They took a break for lunch. Elana had never seen subs disappear so
fast but there were also apples that Sam had picked and a big jug of
juice from the store. They wasted no time chatting but went straight
back to work and soon filled the back of the pick-up with broken
furniture and heaps of green plastic bags. When the men drove off to
dump the first load, the technician from the electrical company came
by and checked that all the wires to the house were in working order.
When he was done and lights could be turned on Elana felt elated and
surprised that such a simple thing could give her a feeling of
accomplishment. She spent the next two hours attacking the stove
while garbage was stowed into bags all around her. When it was
finally clean she had to admit that it didn't look too bad – it was
hers and it worked and she'd be cooking supper in her own house that
night.

The refrigerator was a different story. It was grimy, rusty, and
mercifully dead. Sam took the door off and together with Dennis threw
it in the back of the truck. When they set off for their next dump-
run, Elana drove with Cody back to Super Store and bought all the
fixings for chili and fresh ice for their cooler. She was unloading
all the groceries on the newly cleaned counter when she had a flash
realisation.

"I don't have any big cooking pots!" All her bravado suddenly left
her and she lay her head in amongst the beans and bread and peppers
and onions. Her shoulders shook as tears filled her eyes.

Cody came up and put his arms around her. "Don't worry mom – you can
borrow some from Sam."

She hugged him back. "Silly me. Sorry for crying, kiddo – it's just
been one crazy day for me."

"That's okay mom. Even I cry sometimes."

She kissed him on the forehead. "Even you?" She laughed
softly. "Let's get back to work, hon. I'll start cutting the veggies
and when Sam gets back you can run down to his place with him and
find me some pots."

"And have a visit with Smeagol too?"

"That's why I suggested it. You've more than earned a visit with your
kitty."

~

They ate their chili picnic-style on a blanket on the living room
floor. It was quite late, but the house was empty and three of the
rooms were relatively clean. There was not a stick of furniture. They
only had what they brought with them, their camping supplies,
clothing, Cody's favourite toys, and Elana's books.

"There's a Sally Anne in Courtney where you can pick up some kitchen
stuff cheap," said Dennis. "And I'll keep a look out for a fridge for
you."

"Sally Anne?"

"Salvation Army thrift store," said Sam. "It's your best bet."

"You gonna be needing to rent a carpet cleaner?" asked Dennis.

"No," said Elana. "I'm ripping all the carpet out – it's too
disgusting to consider cleaning."

"How about we do it tomorrow?" asked Sam.

"Thanks, guys. That's really nice of you to offer, but I think I'll
leave it till I finish painting then we won't need any drop-sheets."

"Good idea – I'm thinking you've got hardwood under here." Sam rubbed
the carpet.

Elana's eyes brightened. "Hardwood! I would love hardwood floors."

"Probably need resurfacing, mind you."

"I don't care. Sam – in a week you won't recognise this place."

"I don't recognise it already." He got up from the floor and took his
bowl to the counter. "Dennis and I'll do the dishes."

"No, please. You've both done enough. Cody and I can handle it."

"I think Cody's ready to drop," said Dennis. "You put him to bed and
we'll tidy this all up."

Elana picked up her son and carried him to the bedroom where the air-
mattress and sleeping bags were laid out once more. Gone was the
sagging bed. Instead the wall was lined with boxes of their clothes
and the two backpacks. Elana decided not to worry about washing up
tonight – she simply tucked Cody into his sleeping bag and kissed his
cheek.

"You were a great help today, hon," she whispered.

He put his arms around her neck and she lay beside him until his
breathing relaxed and he loosened his grip. She gave him another kiss
and reluctantly got up from the comfortable bed, turned off the
light, and then returned to the kitchen to thank the men and say
goodnight.

~

After breakfast Elana went straight to scrubbing the walls but
insisted that Cody get out his Lego and play for a bit. Banging
started up outside. Elana opened the front door and saw Sam and
Dennis taking apart the porch steps.

"We found some lumber in the back to build you some new ones," said
Sam. "When that's done I'll fix up the shutters and measure the
broken windows for glass."

"You don't need to do all this work on the house," said Elana. "It's
only the greenhouses you're supposed to be helping out with."

"First things first," said Sam. "We're gonna clean up the front yard
too. Everything that can't be burned we'll take to the dump. I'm
thinking that before the end of the day we'll have a rare bonfire
going out back!"

"Can we roast marshmallows?" asked Cody who had followed Elana out
onto the porch.

"Not on a scrap fire – it'll be too big and the smoke won't be nice.
If your mom says it's okay we can build you a small fire with some
good wood."

"Can we Mom?" Cody turned to her and gave her his best puppy dog
face.

She gave him a hug. "We'll see. I've got to get back to work now."

"That means yes," Cody said to Sam in a loud whisper.

After lunch Elana decided that both she and Cody needed a change of
pace and some fresh air. They drove out to the estuary where they'd
eaten their pizza the first night. Elana remembered seeing a paved
walk along the riverside. She parked near a small airstrip and they
walked together in the quiet stillness of the afternoon.

The water was smooth and reflected the blue of the sky. From a wooden
bridge they watched ducks swim between the sturdy pylons. The
riverbank was thick with rushes. Small birds flitted from cattail to
stump and in and out of the branches of rangy shrubs. Elana just
leant on the railing and gazed about as a mellow peacefulness settled
upon her. She looked further out and saw the river widen to embrace
the broad stretch of ocean that filled the horizon. Cody busied
himself with dropping twigs over the bridge and then running to the
other side to watch them drift out from under the bridge and away.

All the furious activity of cleaning, all the frustration and anger
she had dealt with in the last two days, all the endless cross
country driving of the week before – the burden of it all fell away;
slipped from her shoulders as she let the silken ripple of the water,
the soft rustle of the grasses, the somnolent resonance of the muted
birdsong carry her away to a place beyond thought. Where nothing
needed a reason and existence was all that mattered. A frog plopped –
the ripples expanded outward, minnows scattered among the submerged
rocks.

Sudden, shrill barking shattered the stillness.

"Toto! Quiet! Sorry, he's really very friendly – for some reason he
just thinks he owns this bridge."

Elana looked up to see a pretty girl of about her age holding back a
black and white Jack Russell who was straining against his leash.
Cody stopped what he was doing and walked forward, his hand held
out. "Could I pet him?"

"Oh yes, he's perfectly safe."

"Mom! Look, he's licking my hand."

Elana went over to see the little dog too and soon was talking with
his owner while Cody ran up and down with Toto at the end of the
leash.

"You've got a cute little dog," said Elana.

"He's not mine. He belongs to my aunt but I like to bring him here.
It's my favourite walk – I walk along the estuary and feel like I'm
back home again walking along the Serpentine Fen, even though it's
really not the same at all."

"You're not from here?"

"I am now. I've lived here a month."

"We've just moved as well, from Kingston – from Halifax, really."

"Wow – that's a long way to come – did you get transferred or
something?"

"I actually inherited a greenhouse business, but it's not operational
yet and needs a lot of work. My name is Elana, by the way." She held
out her hand. All the while they had been strolling along behind Cody
and the dog.

"I'm Joy," said the girl, smiling. "I'm happy to meet you. I don't
know anybody here yet, besides my aunt and her family. I work at
Super Store."

"So, you live with your aunt?"

"Yes, but I'd really like to find my own place – out of town, if I
can, only I'm trying to save as much as possible and renting a house
on property is expensive."

Elana stopped, looked at Joy, and then made a snap decision. "Would
you consider sharing a house?" It was completely unplanned but it
suddenly seemed like the most obvious decision. Her house was way too
large for only Cody and herself, used as they were to living in tiny
basement suites.

"Do you mean that? But you've only just met me and know nothing about
me."

"You've only just met us too. But I do have to warn you that right
now the place is a real dump. Why don't you come over tonight and see
for yourself before you decide?"

"I'd like that."

"My phone's not hooked up yet, but I can give you the address. How's
seven?"

"That would be great," said Joy.

Cody came running back with the dog and after a little more talk and
some quick goodbyes Joy continued her walk while he and Elana went
back to the car to search out a paint store. It didn't take long to
find a Cloverdale Paint outlet, but Elana nearly choked when she
discovered that one can of paint the buttery colour she envisioned
would cost her thirty-five dollars. A sales girl came up and asked if
she could help.

"Do you have anything cheaper than this? I have a whole house to
paint, inside and out, and my budget won't stand this price."

"Well, there're two ways you can go," she answered. "You can buy five
gallon buckets of cheap paint in a neutral colour, like the builders
use, or you can go for mistints."

"Mistints?"

"People order a colour and then it doesn't turn out quite the way
they expected it to, so we sell those premixed colours off for eight
dollars a gallon. Here, I'll show you where they are." She motioned
for them to follow her and then looked at the colour card in Elana's
hand. "Is that the colour you were looking for?"

"Yes."

"I just got something very similar to that returned by a client
yesterday – let's see if it hasn't been sold yet."

Not only were there two cans of a beautiful butter-yellow, but Elana
also found three cans of ochre, two of ivory and one of cobalt blue.
Cody picked a can of forest green that he insisted was exactly what
he wanted for his own room. After loading up on rollers, brushes, and
paint trays, they turned the car around and headed for home, Elana
full of anticipation at the thought of covering the existing faded,
pea-green of the walls.

~

Darien let his eyes stray towards the road as the sound of a now
familiar engine met his ears. The rusty Volvo had been up and down
the road quite often in the last two days. He shook his head. The
girl was really going ahead with it! He'd seen that handyman's beater
of a truck taking away load after load of garbage. She was fighting a
losing battle and he imagined that after a lot of wasted effort she'd
have to concede. What she really needed to bring in was one big
bulldozer, and raze the lot. From where he was he could barely see
the occupants of the car, but it looked as if she wasn't alone, not
that he really cared. He wasn't interested in anything about her. He
just wanted her gone and the place cleaned out, so the sooner she
came to her senses and sold, the better. He lifted a saddle from the
fence railing, threw it over his shoulder, and headed for the tack
room.

~

The house looked so much better just to have the stairs and shutters
repaired and the boards gone from the windows. Sam and Dennis had
done an amazing amount of work – the front yard was almost clear of
junk as well. Elana walked into the living room and imagined it a
rich ochre. The colour would be perfect. Her heart sank at how dismal
it really looked, with the stained carpet and marked-up walls. Joy
would take one look and run! If she'd had any sense, she'd have asked
her to come in a week, when the painting was done. There was no
helping it now, though. She sighed, wondering why she'd been so
impetuous, and put the paint cans she was carrying down.

"Which room will Joy get?" asked Cody.

"I doubt she'll take any."

"I hope she does. I like her – will she bring Toto?"

"He belongs to her aunt."

"Oh well – he'd probably scare Smeagol anyway – he's pretty bouncy."

"Very high-spirited," agreed Elana.

"Do you know which room I want, mom?"

"Which one do you want, hon?" asked Elana, smiling down at his eager
face.

"The little cute one connected to yours."

"But . . . that's just a walk-in closet."

Cody put his arms around her. "The other two are too big, and they're
all the way over on the other side of the house."

"Then it's yours, sweetie. I don't need a walk-in closet anyway. I've
always wanted a wardrobe."

"Like in the book?"

"Exactly."

"With fur coats?"

"Sorry, no fur coats to get lost in on your way to Narnia."

"Rats! Hey, mom – do we still have marshmallows?"

"Half a bag."

"Can we go out and see if they've got the bonfire going?"

"Let's do that – I don't feel like working any more today."

As they passed through the kitchen and out the back door Cody grabbed
the bag of marshmallows from the cupboard. It wasn't hard to find the
bonfire. It was way back, in a clearing behind the greenhouses. The
smell of smoke and the crackling of burning timber led them there.
Sam was standing to one side with a hose at the ready, in case the
fire should get out of control, though from what Elana could see
there was no danger of that. He hailed them and then, at Cody's
pleading, went about building a small fire a bit further away from
the blazing heap so that Cody could have his marshmallow roast. As
Elana watched the two of them together a small smile slowly grew and
spread across her face.

~

Darien smelled smoke. Children were having lessons in the south ring
and he worried that the smoke would make the horses restless. It was
coming from <that place>. Who knew what kind of garbage they were
burning, polluting the air. He hurried over, watching as a light
breeze carried the smoke through the trees in uneven eddies, first
high and then low. Two of the children were coughing and a horse
pawed the ground nervously. His anger flared and he brushed his way
through the woods, not noticing the branches snapping back against
him. At the fence he did not pause but hurdled over, and pushed
through even denser bush. He came out onto a clearing and a huge pile
of wildly burning junk. <She> was standing a few feet from the blaze,
the fire casting a warm glow on her face. It was as if he'd never
seen her before. Her hair was hanging down her back in a dark tangle
and the smile on her face was one of delight. He hadn't realised that
she was actually pretty. It was a passing thought and he didn't let
it affect his actions.

"Did you get a permit for this?" he yelled at her.

The smile disappeared. Her face immediately became tense. "Do I need
one?"

"There've been restrictions because of the forest fires! It's bloody
well dangerous – and your fire's practically raging out of control."

"No it's not. I've got a hose going here and the whole area has been
sprayed a few times. Anyway – what forest fires are you talking
about?"

"There've been forest fires all over B.C. throughout August – how
could you not know that?"

"Here? On the Island?"

"No, but what difference does that make?" He lunged towards her. "If
you're not going to put it out at least give me that hose and I'll do
it. I've got riding lessons going on just through those trees. The
smoke from your stupid fire is spooking my horses."

"So that's what this is all about!" Her embarrassment caused her
anger to flare. "Sam wouldn't have started this fire if there were
really burning restrictions. Put my hose down."

"That burned out hippie doesn't know what's going on in the next
block! If you're not going to listen to reason, I've got no other
option," he yelled, training the hose on the fire.

"Stop that! Get off my property!"

The noise brought both Sam and Cody running. They arrived in time to
see Elana wrest the hose from Darien's grasp, only to have it twist
and turn and drench them both. Sam ran over and picked it up.

"What's the problem, Mr Stewart?"

"You should know about the fire restrictions, Jardin!" Darien wiped
the water from his face. The blue denim shirt he was wearing clung to
his chest.

"Oh my God, I forgot all about that! I'll put it out right away, Mr
Stewart."

"I'm glad someone around here has finally found some sense," said
Darien in a hard, tight voice. "I won't report you, but get it out
right now!" Without another look in Elana's direction he strode off
through the trees.

"Boy, that man was really mad."

Darien heard the child's voice echo from behind as branches snapped
in his face. Damned right he was mad! And now he was soaked too, all
because of that . . . he suddenly remembered the look of shock on her
face as the water struck her, and he laughed. What a farcical
situation! If it weren't so serious it would really have been funny.
He hopped the fence again and then made a wide detour around the
riding ring and jogged straight up to the house. He managed to get in
and change without anyone seeing him, so he didn't have to explain
his wet clothing.

~

As Elana cooked supper, the fiasco at the fire kept replaying in her
mind. Stewart had been so arrogant, so obnoxious . . . so right. It
made her angrier knowing that she'd been wrong. That she shouldn't
have had a fire. She didn't even think to blame Sam; it was her
property, her responsibility. And then to top it all off the stupid
hose had doused her right in front of the jerk. Her t-shirt had
become all but transparent. It was <his> fault for coming after her
so out of control rather than talk to her like a sane person – just
her luck to get a head-case for a neighbour. An image of him with his
curls dripping came to her mind unbidden and was ejected just as
fast. She wasn't going to let the way he looked have any influence
over her feelings. Just because a guy was gorgeous had nothing to do
with his character. She'd learned that the hard way and wouldn't make
that same mistake again.

Chapter Four

Elana looked about herself in disgust. How was it possible to make a
place look good when there was no furniture to hide the stains on the
carpets and the nicks on the walls? She'd washed the supper
dishes
and put them away, and made sure the sleeping bags were smoothed
tidily on the air-mattress – there was nothing more she could
really
do. It had been a nice idea to rent out a room in her house, but
she'd make sure it was painted and furnished before she invited
anyone else to come and see it. Upon hearing the knock she sighed and
walked over to open the door.

"Hi!" Joy smiled brightly as she walked in and began to slip
off her
shoes.

"Don't worry about your shoes – this carpet is going as
soon as the
painting is done."

"The drive here was great. I can't believe it – this
place is only
five minutes from my work but it's like I'm right out in the
country.
That property next door to you is so beautiful."

"Well, mine isn't in quite the same shape."

"You have some lovely hemlocks up by the road, and there's a
wonderful beech tree in the flowerbed in front of the house."

"There's a flowerbed in front of the house?" asked Elana
in amazement.

"You can see there was at one time, and in the spring we can
plant it
with lavender and . . . oops, sorry. Here I am already planning your
garden for you and I don't even know if you really want me to
move in
yet." Joy giggled.

"Ever since I got home I've been stressing that you'd
take one look
at this place and run!"

"Why? It's lovely out here. And look at this room! It's
so large and
airy. My aunt lives in a new, low-cost condo. The rooms are all tiny,
and none of the ceilings are this high." Joy looked at the stack
of
paint cans. "What colour did you get to paint it?"

Elana tipped the can to show her the ochre tone painted on the lid.

"Perfect! Where's Cody?"

"He went down to Sam's place to have a last look at his
kitten before
bedtime. He should be right back. Would you like to see the rest of
the house?"

Cody joined them on the back porch after they'd finished touring
all
the rooms. Joy asked him about Smeagol and then Elana pointed out the
greenhouses.

"You've got a lot of work to do," said Joy, "but you
know, it will be
fantastic once you get it fixed up. The location is amazing. Just
look at your view of Mount Arrowsmith across the way there."

The sun was nearly set, but a fine line of fire spread across the
deepening blue, casting a rosy tint to the traces of snow that still
clung to the highest peaks.

Elana let her eyes linger on the sight for a few moments and then
turned to Joy. "This is the first time I even noticed the
mountains.
I've been too overwhelmed by the mess."

They returned into the house while Cody barraged Joy with questions
about which room she wanted.

"Your mom has to decide if she wants me to live here with you
guys
first."

"Of course she wants you, right mom?"

"I'd love it if you really think you want to, Joy," said
Elana.

"I've been trying to tell you that since the moment I
arrived," said
Joy, grinning at them both.

"So, let's choose your room then," said Cody, grabbing
her hand and
pulling her forward.

"I'm just going to put on some tea," said Elana. "Or
would you prefer
coffee?"

"Tea would be lovely," said Joy as she let Cody lead her to
the
bedrooms.

"Do you like herbal?"

"Sure," said Joy as she was dragged through the doorway. A
few
minutes later they were back in the kitchen and Elana was pouring tea
into mugs.

"I hope you'll excuse our camping gear. I haven't bought
anything
yet. Would you like to sit down?" she said, indicating the
counter.

"No, I'm fine," said Joy as she leaned against it.

"I convinced her to take the big room in the front of the
house,"
said Cody as he got some juice from the cooler.

"When I found out it has a view of the beech tree I was
sold," said
Joy. "Plus it's got lots of room for my loom."

"You weave?"

"Yes, but there's been nowhere to set up my loom at my
aunt's so this
is great. I'll be able to get a booth in the Christmas craft
market!"

They sat and drank their tea while they chatted about Joy's
aspirations. She was saving all her money to someday open a craft
store where she could sell her and other artisans' work. Elana
sensed
there was even more to Joy's story than she had disclosed but
that
would come with time, when they got to know each other better. She
herself had let little out about her past as well. It was almost ten
when Joy finally left, promising to come by the next day when she got
off shift so that she could help with the painting.

The week was a busy one. Elana painted from morning till night with
Joy and Cody assisting when they were able. Joy had chosen the cobalt
blue for her bedroom, with ivory trim. For the kitchen they'd
mixed
some of the yellow from Elana's bedroom with the ivory and
painted it
a rich cream. They'd had to buy more paint for the bathrooms,
which
ended up a dusty brick colour. Elana had been sceptical, but she had
to admit that Joy had an unerring colour sense. For the smaller
bedroom they had fun mixing what was left from a number of different
cans and ended up with a colour like creamy coffee.

Elana encouraged Cody to get out and play as much as he could, or
help Sam around the greenhouses. Dennis came by with a fridge that
he'd found in the Buy and Sell, and tinkered around in the
laundry
room trying to get the washer and dryer working. By Friday, the walls
were all done, and the painted baseboards lay in the middle of the
living room floor, waiting for the carpet to be taken up so that they
could be reinstalled. Furniture was the order of the day, so while
Sam and Dennis were left with the unenviable task of ridding the
house of carpet, Elana and Cody hopped into the car to cruise the
second hand stores and antique shops of Courtney.

"We'd better run by the school and register you too,"
said Elana as
they drove down their rutted driveway. "You've missed two
weeks of
school already. Your holiday is over, bud."

"Holiday? I've been working like crazy. Do I really have to
go to
school?"

"Of course." Elana looked over at Cody and saw how pinched
his face
was. "Is something bothering you?"

"I don't know anyone."

"And that's one other reason you need to go to school.
Don't worry –
you'll make friends quickly. And the school sounds great.
It's called
Miracle Beach."

Cody's expression brightened a bit. "I won't have to
start today,
will I?"

"Of course not. We'll just go and register and maybe
you'll get a
tour and meet the teacher."

"Good, because I want to choose the furniture with you."

"And so you shall, honey. I hope you won't get bored, though.
I'm
going to be dragging you through tons of stores." She reached out
her
hand and ruffled up his hair. Cody smiled.

The visit to the school went very well. There was a school bus that
could pick Cody up at the corner of Headquarters road, but Elana
decided to drive him for at least the first month until he was
settled in. The shopping trip was very tiring. By one o'clock
they
had found little more than dishes and cutlery, pots and pans. The
furniture in the thrift stores was all shoddy; in the antique stores
it was overpriced. They took a break for lunch in an old diner chosen
for it's proximity to the shops and not it's ambience. Though
it
looked tacky inside and out, the food was surprisingly good and the
service was excellent. Their waitress was very friendly and seemed to
take a liking to Cody, ensuring that he got a very big piece of apple
pie.

"This pie's home made, kid. You can't stand it, it's
so good. Just
like your Aunt Betsy made it, or something."

"I don't have an Aunt Betsy," said Cody, giggling.

"Well, you'll wish you did it tastes so good."

She winked at him and sauntered off. Cody took a huge forkful and
then continued to eat without speaking, relishing every crumb.

"I think I'm going to have to break down and buy some new
furniture,"
said Elana. "I really wanted to use most of the money grandpa
gave me
for the business, but I don't want to bring junk into the house
when
all I've done for over a week is get rid of it. Just a little bit
of
furniture to start off with, what do you think? And soon we'll
have
money from Joy's rent and if we find someone to take the other
bedroom we should do okay."

The waitress was walking past with a load of dishes up her arms and
stopped by their table for a moment as she waited for someone to walk
around her.

"Sure mom," said Cody, eyeing the pie she'd barely
tasted. "And
you'll be growing plants in the greenhouses too."

"That'll take time, sweetie."

"There's already things growing. We could sell pumpkins, and
apples
and . . . stuff."

Elana pulled out a pad and a pencil and began writing down figures.
Cody looked up and saw the waitress coming back from serving her
other customers.

"You done with that sugar?" she asked. "Now wasn't
that the best pie
you ever tasted?"

"Yup!"

She looked at Elana and said, "Mind if I join you for a
minute?"

"Not at all," said Elana, scooting over in the booth.

"Name's Chandra," she said, holding her hand out.

"I'm Elana, and this is my son, Cody."

"I couldn't help but overhearing," said Chandra. "You
have a room for
rent?"

"Yes, we live out on Haven Road, and I have a room available.
It's
three hundred dollars a month, the bathroom would be shared with
another girl, and full kitchen, living room, and laundry room
privileges."

"You see, I'm really stuck. Everything's going sideways.
I was
sharing this apartment with a girl I know and now she's got a
boyfriend who . . ." She looked over at Cody. "Let's just
say I need
to find a new place fast. Can't live with them. Is it available
right
away?"

"Well . . ." Elana hesitated.

"Oh, yeah, I understand. Look, I'm dependable. I've got a
steady job
and no bad habits, unless you count chocolate. And I know how to bake
pie!"

"Did you make this pie?" Cody looked up at her in awe.

"You betcha, kiddo!"

"Mom!"

"I've got my own furniture," Chandra said persuasively.

"You'd need a car, we're out of town a ways."

"I know Haven Road. That's where Stewart Stables is. Anyway,
I've got
a bike."

Elana's face hardened at the mention of the stables.
"We're right
next door."

"The old greenhouse place? Excellent! `Bout time somebody
fixed that
place up. I remember when old Mr. Thompson owned it. I used to go
there all the time and buy bedding plants for my mom's
garden."

"Would you like to come by and see the room?" asked Elana.

"Tonight?"

She looked so eager that Elana had to agree.

"I gotta get back to work now – the boss is giving me the
evil eye.
I've got a course up at North Island from six until eight, so how
about I come after that?"

"That would be fine. What are you taking?"

"Philosophy of art."

Elana started.

"Hits everybody that way," Chandra laughed. "It was
either that or
Sociology 220. Nothing else that I hadn't taken fit into my
schedule." She took Cody's empty plate and hurried off to the
kitchen.

"She's nice," said Cody.

"You know something," said Elana, "I think you're
right. Now let's
get going and buy us some furniture."

"Aren't you going to finish your pie?"

"You bet I am." Elana began eating and then took pity on him.
She
pushed the plate across the table. "We can share."

~

Chandra turned up in the evening on a motorbike. She confided to Cody
that if she'd been asked what colour she wanted the room painted
she'd have chosen just that shade. She was thrilled with the
hardwood
floors, said she'd get her own phone line so she could have an
internet hook-up, and she handed Elana one month's rent and a
damage
deposit stating that she'd track down a friend with a truck and
move
in on Sunday.

The weekend was busy. Dennis helped Joy move in on Saturday. The
truck from the furniture store delivered Elana's new couch and
armchair, a round oak table and chairs for the kitchen, and
Cody's
Captain's bed. Elana was not going to compromise on her bedroom
furniture. She was content to sleep on the air-mattress until she
found the bed and dresser she had envisioned when she had woken on
her first morning in the house. Carpet, curtains and the rest could
all come later. Right now they had what they needed, and gazing
around her living room she had to admit that the comfy, overstuffed
furniture exactly suited the room. Joy had donated a little end
table, a lamp, and a wall hanging for over the brick fireplace. A
bookshelf for Elana's books and a small rug in the centre of the
room
and it would be complete for the time being.

On Sunday Chandra arrived. Her furniture was put away quickly and a
simple oak coffee table found its way into the living room, along
with an emerald green glass vase filled with yellow and white
freesias that soon sweetened the house with their fragrance. The
three women got together in Joy's room and helped set up her
loom.
Elana quickly learned about heddles and reeds, lams and beams, and
soon an imposing 45" floor loom was taking up quite a major
portion
of the bedroom, while Joy was crawling about underneath, connecting
the harnesses to the treadles. There was an unexpected knock upon the
door and Elana left the room to see whom it could be.

She was very surprised to find a gentleman in a suit standing on her
front porch. He held out his hand and smiled, and at that same moment
she recognised him.

"Carl Bingham," he said. "We didn't really meet
properly, but you
were in Collier's office the other day when I was there with
Darien
Stewart."

"Of course I remember," said Elana, taking his hand. Carl
made an
apologetic grimace, and she continued. "Elana Barnes."

"It wasn't the best of circumstances," he said.

"No," said Elana. "I was not altogether pleased that
day."

"In other words you gave both Darien and Bob a well-deserved
piece of
your mind," said Carl with a grin.

Elana could not help but grin back.

"I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing here."

"Well, I can't really think of any reason . . ."

"I just wanted to start over and apologise to you for that day,
and
welcome you to the neighbourhood."

"I don't think <you> have anything to apologise for,"
said
Elana. "Won't you come in, Mr Bingham?"

"Carl - call me Carl. Please."

"All right, Carl, won't you come in?"

He laughed and wiped his feet.

"Don't take off your shoes. There've been people in and
out of here
all day long – it needs sweeping desperately."

Carl almost stopped still in the doorway. He let out a low
whistle. "I'm stunned," he said. "I was led to
believe that this
house ought to be condemned. This room is . . . charming."

Elana looked about the room and decided that it was the man who was
charming. The room certainly looked a lot better than it had, but it
was commonplace compared with what he was certainly used to.

"And the outside, too. What an improvement. I'm impressed, Ms
Barnes."

"We can't have me calling you Carl and you calling me Ms
Barnes."

"Elana – you've really done something with this house,
and in such a
short time, too."

"I've had a lot of help."

He shuffled from one foot to the other. "You know, Darien is very
sincere in his offer on this place. I don't know if Collier
explained
anything to you about it, but his bid is actually above current
market value."

"I was wondering when it would get to this," said Elana.
"Carl, you
seem to be a very nice man, but I don't have any connection to
that
jerk Collier and whatever your friend <Mr. Stewart> wants to say to
me, he can tell me himself."

"Actually, I represent Darien in all his real estate
dealings," said
Carl apologetically.

"He was with you at Collier's office," said Elana.

"So you know why I don't bring him along too often," said
Carl.

Despite herself, Elana laughed.

"Look, I'm not here to strong-arm you. I just want you to
understand
that the offer is still on the table. If you should find all
this,"
here Carl drew his arm in a wide circle, "too difficult; if you
should come to realise that it's not what you want to do after
all,
well – you have an option. A very generous one."

"I appreciate what you're telling me," said Elana,
"but I'm not
desperate yet. I intend to stick it out. I'm very confident that
I
can make a go of this business."

"You strike me as someone with a lot of determination," said
Carl. "But businesses can run into any number of unforeseen
difficulties. Please keep the offer in mind." He reached in his
pocket and brought out a business card. He was about to hand it to
Elana when the other two women came out of the bedroom; Joy was
laughing at something Chandra had said. His hand stopped midway and
the card fell from his fingers.

Joy stilled in the doorway, colour rising in her cheeks. Chandra
continued forward.

"I'm sorry," she said. "We didn't know you had
company."

Elana made quick introductions. Chandra walked forward and shook
Carl's hand. He greeted her absently.

"Would you like some tea?" asked Joy in a rather breathless
voice.

"Yes, please, I would like that," said Carl and he sat down
in the
armchair.

Elana bent over and picked the business card up, placing it on the
mantle.

"So, Carl," said Chandra. "I didn't think Elana knew
too many people
around here. Tell me how you guys met."

Carl rather disjointedly mentioned meeting Elana in a realty office,
all the time his eyes never straying from the kitchen door.


Chapter Five


<Light fell through the branches. Formless. Evanescent as it slipped
in to join the darkness. She was beyond its touch – and, if so,
beyond the sight of the group of Thregols that walked stealthily by
on the path above. She could see their feet from her hiding place.
The leather of their boots, wrapped in thongs; knife hilts protruding
from down-turned cuffs. Their odour, rancid and foul, carried on the
still air – overpowering any hint of her own almost human smell,
tinged with the sharp tang of bergamot.

Lanea crept from the shadows when it was safe and turned in the
opposite direction than the troupe had taken. If she could help it
they would not catch her, and somehow she would find a way to free
her friends. She ran through the underbrush on light feet. Stopped in
a clearing, full in a shaft of sun, turning her head as she judged
which way to go. Her hair was a tangled mass of long, dark curls
embedded with twigs and leaves. Her face was streaked with dirt and
taut as she listened - her hazel eyes wide and determined. Her breath
was shallow as she stood, the light bronzing her shoulders, moulding
the slow curve of her . . .>

Darien stopped and looked at his screen in disgust, highlighted the
last paragraph and clicked on cut. This was the third time in the
last twenty minutes he had done so. He felt like throwing his
keyboard against the wall. He got up and paced the room, looked
through his window. But that didn't help. His view stretched over the
trees and he could see the moss covered shingles of <her> roof and
the translucent arch of one of <her> greenhouses.

Characters have a way of growing and shaping themselves out of
nothing, but this one kept trying to become <her>. His pale-eyed
Lanea who shied away from confrontation was suddenly standing up to
opposition – defying her enemies. He knew where the tangled hair and
hazel eyes came from. That image had been burned into his brain,
along with the smudges on her cheek, the faint smell of citrus he had
caught even through the wood smoke, and apparently the way her wet
shirt had clung to her rounded . . . well, he was only human. He
couldn't pretend that even in his anger he hadn't noticed. But what
had made the greatest impression that day by the fire, and had done
at their first confrontation, were the flashing hazel eyes. But, God
was she a shrew!

He sat down again; attacked his keys. Forced a description of
gooseberry eyes, hair that grew in short, mousy tufts, a body angular
and awkward. Made her creep through leathery leaves and hanging vines
where daylight refused to go. Sat back and looked at the sentences
that seemed to taunt him. Words that held no magic and sat ungainly
and frozen on the white background. He pressed save and exit, knowing
that when he opened the document again he would have to change it.
Lanea was forming her own life regardless of his wishes. If he were
to finish the book he would have to allow her to become herself. He
had to find a way for her to become just that, and not the embodiment
of his next-door neighbour.

He grabbed his jean jacket and headed down to the barn. Soon he was
riding across the fields, galloping hard, taking fences full on.
Attempting to escape the inescapable.

~

"I went by there the other day, you know." Carl jerked his head back
over his shoulder.

Darien knew he did not mean the small den that led off from the
dining room.

Lina served herself some salad and wrinkled up her nose. "Not the
crack house?"

Carl narrowed his eyes at his sister. "It was never a crack house."

"No," said Darien. "Just a welfare refuge, a delinquent hangout, and
a garbage dump."

"Collier allowed the place to be trashed," admitted Carl, "but you'd
be amazed at how those girls have fixed it up."

"A little paint doesn't change a decrepit house like that for long.
I'm sure it's structurally unsound." Darien cut himself a piece of
chicken, but continued talking before eating it. "And now she's
collected a group of misfits to live there with her. The old hippie
is still squatting in the shed, there's a girl on a damn noisy motor
bike, and some other floozy with a dented Toyota."

"Oh, I've seen it," said Lina. "It looks like a tin can."

Carl put his fork down, rested his elbows on the table, and leaned
forward, glaring. "Have you even bothered to get to know them? How
can you make those types of judgements just because they don't have
the kind of money you do to be able to afford new cars or rebuild
houses? Why should she be a <floozy> just because of the car she
drives?"

"The bleached blonde hair and the tacky clothes say it all," said
Lina.

"For your information, her name is Joy, and not only is she
incredibly beautiful, she's the kindest, most positive person I've
ever met."

"Sorry - bad choice of words," said Darien. "But tell me, what's her
profession? Or is she on the dole?"

"Or does she waitress at the pub?" asked Lina, with a smirk at Darien.

He ignored her and looked at Carl.

"If I didn't know that you really are astute, caring, and liberal
minded, I'd think you were one hell of a jerk." Carl pushed his plate
away. "You've got to get over this mental block about that place and
anyone involved with it."

Darien reached out and patted Carl's shoulder. "You're right. I'm
being irrational. I had a tough day and I'm taking it out on them.
Calm down and eat your supper and tell me all about her. I can see
light of love shining in your eyes."

Lina snorted.

"She's a cashier at Super Store," Carl said. "I know that doesn't
sound like much, but she's very creative and does crafts and she
makes great tea."

"Tea, eh?" said Darien with a wink.

"And she has the most amazing blue eyes . . ." Carl drifted off, a
dreamy look on his face.

"What about the biker chick?" asked Lina. "Really, I don't know what
kind of a mother that . . . what's her name? Elaine? I mean she has a
kid and she's not married and then she has all those girls living
there, and the old transient in the shack out back. What kind of an
environment is that for a child?"

"What do you know about being a mother?" Darien shot at her.

Lina looked at Darien in surprise. "Where did that come from?"

As his thinking had been on similar lines as what Lina had just said,
he wondered the same thing himself. Must be that the idea of being on
the same wavelength as Lina bothered him. He concentrated on his
baked potato and didn't answer her.

"Her name is Elana, and she's very nice, Lina," said Carl. "I met her
kid and she's done a great job with him. It's not easy being a single
parent – I think she's been divorced for quite a few years and had to
raise him mostly on her own. And the <biker chick>, as you call her,
is friendly, has a good sense of humour, and no visible tattoos or
weird body piercings. They are all normal, down to earth people, and
I don't care what either of you think, but I'm going to keep visiting
them."

"Of course you are," said Lina. "You're in loooove."

"Justie is coming home for Thanksgiving," said Darien, thinking it
was about time the subject changed. "She's planning on moving back
here for good and giving riding lessons again."

"Really?" said Lina. "That would be so wonderful. She's the best
teacher you've ever had. And maybe she could help me out by judging
the equestrian events in the spring. You must miss her so much – I
know I do. It's been hard on you to have your little sister so far
away."

"It's not like Victoria is on the moon, Lina," said Carl.

Darien laughed, glad to see his friend's good humour restored. He was
also relieved that they were no longer talking about Elana. It had
been too tempting to ask questions . . . the less he knew about her
the better. He had a book to write and he wasn't about to let her
image take over his novel. Why she had left such a strong impression,
he hadn't a clue – he'd only actually interacted with her twice. He
knew that when he was writing his mind became very receptive to the
most surprising stimuli. Sometimes it impeded the process, other
times it was an amazing creative catalyst. This time he wasn't
prepared to explore the phenomenon, either way.

~

Elana dumped the full wheelbarrow and then arched and stretched,
rubbing the small of her back. She had to get used to strenuous
physical labour again, and cleaning out the greenhouses was more
arduous than anything she'd ever done at her old job. She was only
half way through her first week and it was already killing her. It
wasn't just the blisters on her hands and her aching muscles, but the
mindlessness of the tasks. Picking rocks, pulling weeds, sifting
through assorted junk. Sam had been at it for a while already and had
set up a system. There was a pile for compostable materials, another
for rocks, a burning pile, one for recyclables, reusables, and things
that needed to go to the dump. All the piles were growing at quite an
alarming rate. He assured her that it wouldn't be long before the ban
on burning was lifted and also that he would build that new fire as
far away from Stewart Stables as possible, closer to the other
boundary line. Dennis had arranged to come the following Sunday to
remove the recyclables and the useless garbage.

Every morning was a mad dash to get Cody off to school, then Elana
would return to a quick breakfast of her own. After that she worked
without a break until it was time to pick him up again. She ate her
lunch while he had his afternoon snack, then she went back out to
work while he played around the greenhouses or explored the property.
Either Chandra or Joy cooked supper depending on their shifts. After
supper they all chatted for a bit while Elana supervised homework.
Later she played games with Cody, or read to him until bedtime. She
went to bed at the same time as her son, bone tired, and fell asleep
almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Giving a small groan, Elana rubbed her back again and pushed the
wheelbarrow along the path to the greenhouse she was clearing out.
She dumped out plastic pots that had shrivelled up plants in them.
The pots were so old and brittle that very few of them were worth
keeping. She stacked them in one corner as she concentrated on
filling her barrow with the dead plants and dried-out soil. At least
none of it was heavy. It was just the bending that was bothersome.

Sam entered the greenhouse and called out to her. "Fancy a change of
scene?"

She looked over to him and smiled. "Are you offering a trip to a
beach on Maui?"

"Nothing near so good. I was wondering if you wanted to make
blackberry jam. They're falling off the bushes and I can't keep up
with them."

Elana thought of the tasty pies Chandra had baked with the last
bucket he had brought her. His donations were making a great
difference to her food budget what with the berries, apples,
tomatoes, and squash he was always providing. "I've never made jam,
and I don't have any of the stuff I would need, like pots and jars
and things."

"Don't worry about anything. I always make jam every year and sell it
at the roadside stand. With all the greenhouse work I haven't had
time to do it this year. I'll bring everything up to the house and
all you'll have to do is cook it. I've been picking berries all
morning."

"But I don't know how to make jam."

"Nothing easier. I'll bring you some recipes and show you how it's
done. When you go to get Cody from school you could run by Super
Store and get a couple of twenty kilo sacks of sugar."

Elana set her wheelbarrow aside with a sigh of relief. She carried
two full buckets of blackberries up to the house and then washed her
hands and waited for Sam. He was along very soon and when they had
the first batch of jam bubbling on the stove he explained how to
sterilise the jars and lids and showed her a few other recipes.

"I'll bring you some apples too. Blackberry and apple is great –
these apples have lots of pectin – that's what sets the jam – and
here's one for jelly and another for apple butter."

The rest of the week was spent preserving fruit. Elana made a few
different types of jellies: blackberry, spiced apple, and crab apple,
as well as the jams. When Chandra and Joy were around they took part
in the activity too. Even Cody did his bit, either helping Sam
collect fruit or measuring ingredients in the kitchen. They
completely filled an entire counter with jar upon jar of gleaming
burgundy and amber preserves, which instilled in both Cody and Elana
an inordinate feeling of pride. In no time they were running out of
room to put them all. On Saturday Cody excitedly stocked the little
stand down by the road while Sam put out the bright new sign that Joy
had painted for them.

Business was good as somehow most of Sam's regular customers got wind
that the jam was ready. Cody enjoyed rolling the jars in newspaper
and packing them into bags for the people. In the afternoon Elana
came down to see how they were making out. She decided to relieve Sam
and sent Cody off to play because it was too nice of a day for him to
be cooped up in the stand the whole time. The first hour she was
there saw a lot of business, but soon she was able to settle down and
read the book that she had brought. At the sound of a car's horn she
raised her head. There was a silver BMW idling in the street. It was
very familiar – she had seen it coming in and out of Stewart Stables
on quite a few occasions as she was driving by. The driver waved to
her to come to the car. She was surprised because most people had
parked and walked over to the stand, but she resigned herself that it
wasn't about to happen in this case, and so went up to the road to
see what the woman wanted.

"May I help you?"

The woman's hair was died a coppery red, and spiked stylishly with
mousse. She waved a skinny arm towards the stand. "How very quaint!
You're like a child with a lemonade stand. It is all just too cute."

Elana could not see her eyes because of the reflective lenses of the
sunglasses she wore, but her attitude was one of condescension, not
humour. "Actually, it's jam." Her voice was just barely polite.

"Jam," the woman said, as if it was something unheard of. "Can you
actually make a living selling <jam> by the side of the road?"

"It is not my intention to make my living this way, but if you think
of it, all this fruit would have gone to waste if we didn't make the
jam, and all the people that have come to buy it would have been
disappointed."

"You actually have customers?"

"It has been hard to keep up with the demand." Elana turned to go.
She had no interest in being belittled by the roadside, and breathing
in the noxious exhaust fumes at the same time.

"Ah . . . well . . . I see. But isn't jam so very unhealthy with all
that sugar and all those other terrible ingredients in it?"

"Oh – you mean the blackberries and the apples?" She did nothing to
hide the sarcasm in her voice.

The woman chose to ignore the remark and instead said, "I would buy
some if you had a sugarless variety. I'm very health conscious and
community spirited. I support all the local charities. Do you make it
with artificial sweeteners?"

Elana pulled a pad and pencil out of her pocket and smiled
sweetly. "We seem to be all out of the diet jam that we make with
that lovely aspartame that causes cancer in lab rats, but I can take
your order for our next batch. How many jars would you like?"

The woman put her car into gear and sped off. Elana stalked back to
the stand. She shouldn't have reacted so strongly, but she had to
admit that it had hurt to be compared with a child and a lemonade
stand, and to be referred to as a charity case. As if all the work
she was doing was childish and futile. As if she <was> a fool to even
think she stood a chance of making a living from her greenhouse
business. She saw the woman pull a quick U-turn down the road and
then speed past her, sending a cloud of dust flying. Barely braking,
the BMW turned and tore up the driveway to the stables. Elana
suddenly had the idea that the woman might just be Darien Stewart's
wife or girlfriend, and the notion of him being stuck with a witch
like that brought a smile to her face.

Chapter Six

September slid into October but Elana barely noticed. All she could
think of was her sore back, her aching muscles, and her bed. The air
mattress was not giving her the support that she needed. She had
vowed she would wait for the perfect bed, but she hadn't even had
time to look in more stores or check in the Buy and Sell. Her weekend
had been completely taken up with work and the next weekend was
Thanksgiving. Sam had all kinds of ideas about selling pumpkin pies
and gourds from the roadside stand. Chandra offered to share her
secret recipe for crust, so Sunday evening was lesson night.

"We can make up a few batches and freeze them, and then on Friday you
just have to prepare all the filling," said Chandra.

"I can't believe Sam did all this by himself last year with only that
wood stove of his." Elana busied herself cutting the butter into the
flour.

"Remember, he wasn't doing anything else."

"Right," she said, rubbing her back.

"You've severely got to do something about that bed," said
Chandra. "Have you tried the little store just across the bridge in
Courtney?"

"Which bridge?"

"After you drive past the pool and the skate park."

"Is it an antique store?"

"Well . . . it's really more of a curio shop, but you can't believe
the stuff that lady has – and she's like Madame Zonda or something –
you expect her to pull out a crystal ball or read your tea leaves.
She's too much – really."

Elana pushed her hair from her eyes with the back of her hand,
lightly dusting her forehead with flour. "Cody has his first soccer
practice tomorrow after school. I'll go take a look while he's at the
park – that's the same one that has the soccer fields, right?"

The next day after school Cody was eagerly awaiting his mother at the
school fence.

"Mom! We don't need to go buy soccer shoes. Bryce says his dad is
bringing a few used pairs for me to try on – and he's got extra shin
pads too." Cody gave her a big hug. "So that means we can go straight
to the soccer field and I won't be late."

"No, you'll be early instead you silly noodle. Excited, eh?" Elana
said as she rubbed the top of his head fluffing his hair into unruly
curls.

"Bryce says I'm really good for someone who's never played for a
league before, but I want to practice a bit before the rest of the
team comes."

"I've got your ball in the car. Let's go."

As they drove the short distance to town, Elana reflected on how glad
she was that Cody had settled in at his school so easily and had made
a few close friends already. When he had come home begging to join
Bryce's soccer team, she'd agreed readily and dialled the phone
number Bryce had given him. The season had already started, but she
was able to get Cody in on a late registration. It paid to know the
right people – Bryce's dad was not only the coach but he was the
division co-ordinator and the league registrar.

Elana parked beside the community centre and then went out on the
field with Cody as he ran about with his ball and took practice shots
at the goal. About fifteen minutes later a man with a huge bag of
balls approached her, and the two boys with him went running off to
join Cody.

"You must be Cody's mom," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Coach
Jerry."

"I'm Elana Barnes," she said, "but just call me Elana. I brought all
the stuff you asked for, the checks and a copy of his birth
certificate."

"Excellent," he said, "And I brought these." He waved some shoes he
was holding by the laces.

"That's so kind of you."

"Well, I hope they fit," he said. "Are you staying for the practice?"

"No, I'm going to walk to the shops."

The coach called Cody over to try on the shoes and Elana, after
ensuring that Cody was feeling comfortable in this new situation,
walked across the field in the direction of the bridge. Normally she
would have spent some time gazing over the parapet at the smoothly
running water, but she felt an urging of excitement at the idea of
possibly finding a bed like she had envisioned. The block of stores
that led away from the bridge was old and dingy. She almost passed
the curio shop, thinking that it must have been the next block that
Chandra had meant, but a flash of deep red caught her eye.

There, through the dusty window, a beautiful small carpet was laid
out. The red was rich and dark, with traditional designs in black and
white and a lighter shade of red. As she looked at it, she no longer
saw the window of the grimy shop, but the hardwood of her living room
floor, her dark green couch, and the oak coffee table. A little bell
rang over the door as she walked in. A tiny grey-haired lady
materialised from behind a curtain in the back.

"I've just made tea," she said. She tilted her head to one side,
which only added to her bird-like quality. "You are interested in the
rug."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Despite her look of fragility
the woman's voice was strong and sure.

"How did you know?" asked Elana.

"I have had it in my back room for weeks. This morning I felt an urge
to place it in the window. I knew someone like you would come and
claim it – someone who knows what she wants."

"I was really looking for something else, but I did want a carpet."

"Of course you did. Let me tell you a little about its history while
we drink our tea." She motioned to a delicate round mahogany table
with a Chinese teapot on it. "Jasmine," she said as she poured it
into fine tea-bowls.

Elana bemusedly sat and thanked her, sipping the tea, her hands
cupped around the china.

"It is a Middle Eastern prayer rug. The family who owned it bought it
thirty years ago from a travelling trader in Malaysia." She went on
to speak of the wool, the number of knots per square inch, and the
significance of the various designs incorporated to make up the
pattern of the rug. "Though all of this is to your liking I have a
feeling that something is bothering you, causing indecision."

Elana nodded. "I can't help but think of the small child who tied all
those knots. It is a beautiful thing, but it was created out of
servitude. I've heard of the terrible conditions the children worked
in and the long hours."

"All this is true. I believe you are one of the rare people who can
see the child's soul in his creation, but I must give you two things
to ponder. The first is harsh. Without this occupation would the
child's future have been any better? I do not know the answer to that
question. Now we can do something to help abolish this kind of
slavery, but this rug was made long ago, and whether you buy it or
not, it will not change the history of the making of it. Stay. Take
the time to decide. You must be happy with your possession."

Elana sat and drank her tea. She looked about the room. There was a
bizarre mixture of furniture, ornaments, and china. Clocks, vases,
statuettes, and chess sets covered every surface and filled cabinets.
She felt an odd sense of peace amid all the clutter. She sat back and
allowed her mind to empty, and when it was clear opened it to the
carpet lying in soft, glowing richness between an umbrella stand and
a baroque mirror. What came into her mind was that she, of all the
people who had ever owned the carpet, would see the child and not
forget him. She would hold the suffering within the warmth of her
heart and cherish the gift of beauty it had wrought.

As she turned to voice her decision, she noticed a bookshelf against
one wall. It was golden oak, low, with deep, worn shelves, an
assortment of battered books lying haphazardly in it.

"Is the bookshelf for sale?"

"It is if you want to buy it."

"Yes, I would like to, and the carpet too, but I don't have much
money to spend."

"I will give you a price that will work for you. The true value of
something is not monetary, but what the object means to the owner.
These things mean more to you than they do to me, or the next person
who might come into the store. If they should be yours it is only
right that they are affordable." The lady smiled at her and patted
her hand. "When you came into the store you told me you were looking
for something other than the carpet. What was that?"

Elana told her about the bed and bureau that she had such a clear
vision of when awakening upon her first morning in her new bedroom.
The lady promised to call her if she ever came across anything
remotely resembling the description. Elana gave the lady her phone
number, paid for the carpet and bookshelf, and explained that she had
to walk back to the park for her car but would return for the items
as soon as she could.

When she got out onto the sidewalk she suddenly became aware of how
long she had actually been in the shop. She sprinted over the bridge
and into the park, relieved to see the children were still running
about the field after the ball. When she arrived to the sidelines the
coach blew his whistle and the kids all huddled around him. One of
the mothers leaned over to Elana and said, "I can see you are used to
coaches. They never end practices on time – if I was smarter I'd have
come fifteen minutes late too."

Elana smiled and shook her head, stating that she was ignorant of
coaches' habits but thankful for them because she truly was late.
Cody came rushing off the field and flung himself upon Elana. "That
was the most fun ever! Thanks for registering me mom."

"He's a natural," said the coach as he passed them, his ball bag
slung over his shoulder. "He's going to be a real asset to the team.
Now, don't forget to practice your dribbling, Cody. See you on
Wednesday!"

Elana kissed Cody's forehead. "C'mon. We'd better hurry. I didn't
find a bed in that store I went to but I bought something else and I
can't wait to get it into our living room."

Cody liked her purchases but was more interested in telling Elana
everything he had done in the practice, down to the minutest detail.
It didn't take Elana long to realise that she was going to learn
almost as much about soccer as her son.

"You'll come to my game on Saturday, won't you mom?" he said for
probably the third time as they carried the bookshelf into the living
room together.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, honey," Elana said, as they placed
the bookshelf against the wall. She stood back and appraised it, then
moved it over a foot.

"Nice bed!" said Chandra appreciatively.

"I didn't find a bed," said Elana, "but wait until you see the carpet
I bought."

"Chandra, can you come to my soccer game on Saturday?" asked Cody,
dancing around her.

"Slow down, you maniac," she said. "What time is it at?"

"Ummm . . . ten o'clock, right mom?"

"Right, hon."

"Dunno, buster," said Chandra. "I'll check my schedule. Hope I'm not
on breakfast shift, because if you play soccer as well as you can
dance, that's gotta be a sight to see."

"Where's Joy? Is she home?" asked Cody.

"She's working."

"Then I'm going to go ask Sam – can I mom?"

"Sure Cody, anything that will get rid of your steam." When he ran
out the back door she looked at Chandra. "Who knew soccer practice
would give him even more energy? I thought it would tire him out."

"Go get your carpet already, girl. I'm dying to see it and to hear if
Madame Zonda and you had a séance."

When Cody came back he found his mom lying on the carpet staring up
at the ceiling.

"Shh, she's meditating," said Chandra with a grin.

"I am not," said Elana, rolling over and sitting up. "Look Cody –
isn't it perfect?"

"Yes mom. Do you think Smeagol will like it?"

"Don't tell me!" she said, but he didn't have to. Cody's eyes were
shining even more than they had been before.

Sam walked in from the kitchen. "I've put the litter box in the
laundry room if that's okay with you, Elana, and there's a bag of
food on the counter." He handed the kitten over to Cody. "Here ya go.
Let the little guy get used to his new house."

Cody held the tiny kitten close and stroked his head. Soon Smeagol
had crawled up to sit on his shoulder. "Will he miss Twilight?"

"You just keep him company all evening and he'll be fine," said Sam.

"Thanks for everything, Sam," said Elana and then she suddenly jumped
up. "I'd better stop daydreaming and get supper cooked! You want to
stay, Sam?"

"Thanks, but I've got stew ready at home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Chandra followed Elana into the kitchen and soon they were cutting up
vegetables and frying strips of chicken. Cody sat on the carpet and
placed Smeagol beside him. The little grey kitten sniffed and walked
forward tentatively, then skittered back to Cody's lap. Each time
Cody placed him down again he ventured a little further. Soon he was
scampering about the room and almost got stuck under the couch twice,
only Cody managed to drag him out. Half an hour later Elana came into
the living room to say that supper was ready. Both Cody and the
kitten were curled up on the rug fast asleep.

~

On Tuesday afternoon Darien gave up all attempts at writing. The
chapter was dragging. In the end he'd let Lanea have her way; her
eyes were hazel, her hair was an unruly tangle of dark curls, she was
defiant and persistent. And obstinate, which was his main problem
now. She was insisting on facing the Thregols when she was unprepared
and had no idea what she was getting into. He hadn't a clue how he
would get her out of the mess she was heading for. He closed all his
windows and put his computer on standby, then headed down to the
stables. He needed to check the west fence anyway, so he may as well
go for a ride.

Phantom was a horse that never got spooked, so when he stopped short
by a stand of trees Darien wondered what was up. He patted the
horse's neck to calm him, and then dismounted. Phantom did not seem
so much disturbed as interested, and Darien moved aside a low hanging
branch of Douglas fir to see what had caught the horse's attention.
There was a boy under the tree, close up against the trunk.

"Hi." Darien did a swift appraisal. The boy's hair was dark, a trifle
long with loose curls falling on his forehead. He had a face like a
pixie, and his wide-open eyes were unmistakably hazel. He was wearing
a striped t-shirt and old blue jeans with torn knees.

"Hi."

"Are you going to come out? My horse wants to meet you."

"Am I on . . . is this your property, mister?"

"Yes. How did you get here?"

"You're not mad?"

"No. You're not doing anything wrong, only . . . does your mom know
where you are?"

"I didn't mean to leave my yard – I just wanted to explore it to the
end. There's a hole in the fence."

"Holes are always irresistible."

The boy smiled. "Did you go through holes in fences when you were a
kid?"

"Worse. I climbed over perfectly good ones."

This time the boy laughed.

"I think we should get you home to your mom." Darien held his hand
out and the boy took it and came out from under the tree.

"Are you still mad at my mom?"

"What . . . oh – you mean about the fire. No. I kind of got carried
away that day. Sorry."

"That's okay. What's your horse's name?" The boy reached up and
nuzzled the animal's velvety nose.

"Phantom. Would you like to ride him?"

"I've never ridden a horse before."

"It's easy. I'll be leading him. You aren't frightened are you?"

"No."

"Do you think your mom would mind? Phantom is very good with children
or I wouldn't have suggested it."

"I don't think she'll mind."

"Okay. Come here – I'll have to toss you up." When Darien had him in
the saddle he smiled up at him and said, "What's your name?"

"Cody."

"So, how does it feel to be up there, Cody?"

"Great!"

"Just hang on to the saddle horn and we'll get going."

Darien led the horse along to the fence that divided the two
properties and Cody showed him where the hole was. Then they followed
it as closely as possible until they were behind the riding ring. The
entire time they talked about Phantom and horse riding and cowboys.

When the house was in view Cody said, "I'll just get off here and run
through the trees."

"What about the fence?" asked Darien. "There's no hole."

"Is it okay if I climb over?"

"I think that's a better idea than going under."

Cody laughed again. "Thanks for giving me a ride on your horse."

"You're welcome. If you ever want lessons, just let me know." Darien
held his hand up in a half salute, half wave. As he watched Cody run
off he smiled. What a nice kid – and did he ever look like his mom.
He turned around and started leading Phantom to the stables. As he
hung up all the tack and curried the horse, ideas for his story began
swirling around in his mind. He still didn't know how he'd get Lanea
out of the trouble she was headed for, but he had a clearer idea of
some of the happenings on her way into it.

~

Cody hopped off the top rail of the fence and walked through the
trees. He was just about to run across the yard between the house and
the greenhouses when he saw a sudden movement. At first he thought is
was a dog, but then realised it was a goat. He crept up behind it and
grabbed it about the neck before it could run off. He dragged it,
twisting and turning, until he was almost at the back door.

"Mom! Mom! I caught a goat!"

Elana opened the door and stared out in disbelief. "Now where in
heaven's name did you find a goat?"

"Just here in the yard."

"We'll have to get Sam. He might know where it came from."

They found Sam in the far greenhouse and when he saw the goat he
laughed.

"That's Jessabelle! She's a rare old sneak, that one. Just give me a
minute to get a rope and I'll take her back over across the way."

The excitement with the goat drove everything else out of Cody's
mind. He spent the evening alternating between doing his homework and
coming up with new and interesting reasons why they really needed to
get a goat of their own. It wasn't until he was lying in his bed on
the edge of sleep that he realised he had forgotten to tell his mom
that he'd met the next door neighbour and even ridden on his horse.
He resolved to tell her in the morning – sleep was more important
right at that moment. And in his dreams he rode a horse that looked
like a goat all the way to the soccer field.

Chapter Seven

All day Friday Elana baked pumpkins for the pie filling. They were
going to spend the evening baking as many pies as they could. Sam
intended to sell them Saturday morning from the roadside stand and
regretfully told Cody he would have to miss his first soccer game.
Cody was quite philosophical about it, telling Sam that there would
be many more so it was okay if he missed <one>.

Pies started going in the oven as early as four o'clock. At four pies
per batch, and about an hour and a quarter baking time, the eighth
batch of pies was still in the oven at midnight. Elana was totally
beat, and Cody had long since gone to bed with Smeagol curled up on
his pillow beside him. Chandra was moving cooled pies to shelves in
the laundry room, which stayed much colder than the rest of the
house. The front door opened and Joy came in from her late shift. She
threw herself on the couch and took a deep breath of the air fragrant
with baking.

"I love pumpkin pies," she said.

"I'm not sure if I ever want to see another one," said Elana with a
grin.

"You mean you won't eat some on Sunday with our Thanksgiving dinner?"
asked Joy.

"I'm sure I will."

"Speaking of the dinner, I did something you might be mad at me for."

"What could you do that would make me mad?"

"I invited someone without asking you."

"Don't worry – there'll be plenty of food – it's just all of us and
Sam. Who did you invite?"

Joy blushed. "Carl Bingham."

"What?" Elana sat up suddenly and looked at her. "Where did you see
him?"

"He's been in the store a few times since he came over here. He . . .
um . . . joined me for my coffee break tonight."

Chandra had come into the living room by this time and sat beside
Joy. "Planned or just a coincidence?"

"Well, he asked me when my break was earlier while he was shopping."

"You've been holding out on us, sugar!" Chandra gave her a poke in
the ribs.

"I didn't want to say anything until, well . . . you know . . . I
knew he was interested."

"Elana and I knew he was interested the moment he saw you."

Joy blushed some more and giggled. "So is it okay if he comes for
dinner?"

"He's more than welcome, as long as he knows it's not going to be
very special," said Elana.

"He'll hardly care if it's Martha Stewart or not anyway," said
Chandra. "We could give him <Kraft Dinner> and he'd be happy as long
as Joy was by his side."

"Stop it!" said Joy, giving Chandra a friendly shove.

Elana got up to check the last batch of pies and take them out of the
oven. Thirty-two pies. She hoped that Sam was right and he could sell
them all. As much as she liked pumpkin pies the idea of eating thirty
or so of them was a little daunting.

The next morning Cody and Elana had to be at the field by 10:30 for
an eleven o'clock game. Cody was proudly sauntering about the house
in his soccer uniform - royal blue shorts with a blue and white
striped jersey. The day was bright and crisp so Elana, Joy, and
Chandra dressed more warmly for standing around on the sidelines.
Both girls had to leave the game early to be at work by noon so they
were driving themselves in on time for the kick off. Elana managed to
get Cody to sit still long enough to eat a plate of pancakes and then
they were off.

When they arrived at the field the previous game had just ended and
the boys all ran out to do their warm up exercises and then some
dribbling and shooting drills. Elana was proud to see how adept Cody
was after only two practices. There was a tall man on the field who
she hadn't seen before and when Cody came off just before game time,
she asked him who he was.

"That's the assistant coach."

"Does he have a boy on the team?"

"No – he used to be a pro. He's awesome."

Joy and Chandra arrived and gave Cody high fives before he ran onto
the field and took up his position in left mid.

"Why have I never come to these games before?" said Chandra emitting
a low whistle. "Take a look at that!" She jerked her head to the
right where the coaches were standing calling instructions out to the
boys.

"He's the assistant coach," said Elana. "Unless you were referring to
the older one who's balding."

"I'm referring to the stud that has all the mothers drooling. Don't
tell me he's married."

"I have no idea – I've never met him. Cody did say he doesn't have a
kid on the team, but that doesn't mean anything."

"Be still my heart!" said Chandra. "I don't believe you haven't gone
and introduced yourself yet."

"He's busy coaching," said Elana.

"That wouldn't stop me," said Chandra.

The whistle blew and the game started. Elana knew less than nothing
about soccer but she cheered and yelled encouragement to all the
players on Cody's team and became apprehensive whenever the opposing
team gained possession of the ball. She didn't understand when the
whistles blew for fouls, or why sometimes the boys were allowed to
throw the ball in or at other times a kick was taken from the corner
of the field, but when Cody passed the ball to a boy in front of him
who shot and scored she understood well enough and cheered him
heartily for his first assist.

At half time the game was tied 1-1, and the boys were all given a pep
talk by the coaches as they ate sliced oranges. One of the mothers
came up and introduced herself to Elana and put her name down on the
orange list.

"You just cut up about a dozen oranges and bring them to the game,"
she explained.

Cody joined them full of excitement. "Did you see that when I stole
the ball and passed it up to the forward and he scored? Did you see
my slide check? Did you see when I got to do the throw in? Coach
Colin said I did it really well because I remembered to drag my toe
and brought the ball back over my head properly before I threw it –
and I got it right to my man!"

"That was a great assist," said Elana.

"Awesome," said Joy.

Chandra nudged Elana and whispered in her ear. "Don't look now, but
<he's> coming over."

"I hear one of you ladies is Cody's mom," he said, holding his hand
out. "I'm Colin Fox, the assistant coach."

"I'm Elana, his mom." Elana took Colin's hand and shook it.

"I'm Chandra, his surrogate mom," said Chandra holding out her hand
and smiling.

Colin shook her hand and Joy's as well then turned back to
Elana. "He's really shaping up. We're glad to have him on our team."

"Thanks."

"So, you're new in the area?"

"Yes. I own some greenhouses on Haven Road."

"The ones beside Stewart Stables?"

"That's right."

"Great. I know exactly where that is. Well, I'd better get back to
the kids. Half time's just about over. I'll see you later." He smiled
and walked away.

"My prayers are answered," said Chandra. "No ring."

"What do you mean?" asked Elana, confused.

"She checked him out for a wedding ring," Joy giggled.

"You are a madwoman," Elana said to Chandra.

"I'm not the one who practically drew him a map to my front door,"
said Chandra. "Though if it had been up to me I'd have invited him to
dinner tomorrow while I was at."

"There's still time. You can run over and ask him before the whistle
blows."

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am. Anyway, I'm in total
awe. I'm just going to stand here and replay the sound of his voice
over and over in my head."

They all laughed and then the whistle blew and the game recommenced.
It was a tightly fought battle. The saves on both sides were amazing,
bringing on groans and gasps, depending on which team had stopped the
ball. By the time Joy and Chandra had to leave the game was still
tied. Cody was weaving through players, carrying the ball up the left
side of the field and just about to pass when he was fouled hard from
behind. He lay on the ground, winded, as the assistant coach ran onto
the field and then limped off with Colin's arm around his shoulders.
Elana worried that he was hurt but knew better than to run over and
embarrass him. Colin brought Cody right to Elana.

"He'll probably have a few scrapes and bruises even through his shin
guards," he said. And then he turned to Cody. "Just let me know when
you feel up to it and I'll put you back in the game."

"Thanks," said Elana. "Are you okay tiger?"

Cody was busy rolling down his sock and pulling back his shin guard
to examine a nasty scrape. He nodded his head bravely and then pulled
his sock back up and began cheering his team on. The free kick given
to his team for the foul against him put the ball into great
position. A shot was rebounded, passed quickly to right forward and
driven hard into the top corner of the goal. Cody jumped up and down
and then ran back to his coach to see if he could enter the game
again in the remaining few minutes.

Elana watched as Cody ran onto the field to replace an exhausted
player and was relieved to see that he was barely limping. A man
standing on the other side of the field caught her eye. Even from
that distance she knew immediately who it was. There was just
something about how he stood – the way he held his body – that told
her it was Darien Stewart and she was at a loss as to why he was
watching eight year olds play soccer. As far as she knew he had no
children, but she had to admit that she knew little about him besides
the fact that he was an arrogant self-righteous jerk. She turned her
attention back to the game and cheered as Cody stole the ball from an
opposing player and kicked it downfield. The referee checked his
watch and blew three long blasts on his whistle signifying the end of
the game. The boys all cheered then rushed to line up and shake hands
with the opposition. As they came running off the field she noticed
Darien Stewart walk out and speak with the assistant coach, Colin,
and then pat him on the back and walk away over to the parking lot.
She was still watching him, lost in thought, as he got into his truck
and backed out of his parking stall.

"Mom! Mom! Earth to mom! Can you hear me?"

Elana shook herself and turned to Cody. "Sorry. I was just wondering
what he was doing here."

"Who?"

"It's not important. Congratulations buddy! Your game was wonderful."

"Thanks! The coach said the team we played was undefeated!"

"Now they're not! They met their match today."

"Sure did!" Cody grabbed his mom's hand and started retelling every
play of the game as they walked back to the car. Colin Fox smiled and
waved at them from across the lot as he got into a new black
Thunderbird. Elana waved back and watched him as he drove out. She
wondered about him and Darien Stewart. They were similar in height
and build, and although Darien was decidedly the better looking of
the two, Colin had the friendly personality that Darien lacked. If
her neighbour had been more like the assistant coach, she might have
found herself in some serious trouble, because then she would have
had a hard time hating him.

~

After lunch, Elana allowed Cody to go down to the stand to help Sam
while she began to bring some order to her kitchen in preparation for
the big meal the next day. The turkey was in the laundry room sink
thawing out, and Sam had brought a sack of freshly dug potatoes up to
the porch in the morning. She checked that they had enough butter and
bread, garlic and onions, wild rice, mushrooms, and herbs for the
stuffing, then she got out her recipe for buttered yam and pecan
casserole, and began preparing it.

~

Cody told Sam all about his game in between customers. After about an
hour Sam said that most of the people he expected had been by and
suggested they should close up shop, but Cody was enjoying being in
charge of the booth and told Sam he'd look after it on his own to see
if he could sell any of the half dozen pies still remaining. Twenty
minutes later, Cody realised that Sam had been right. Not one car had
even driven down the road let alone stopped to buy anything. Just
standing in the booth was becoming quite boring. Cody helped himself
to a slice of the sample pie and left the stand to sit under a tree
and idly throw rocks into the ditch. A large dark blue truck drove up
and he hurriedly stood and ran over to the roadside.

"Oh! It's you," he said as a familiar tall figure climbed out.

"What're you selling today?" asked Darien Stewart.

"Pumpkin pie. Do you want to try some? It's really good, even without
whipping cream."

"No jam? My sister really likes jam and I was hoping to buy her some."

"I could get you a jar from the house and bring it over to your
place. Did you want blackberry or apple jelly?"

"Blackberry would be great, and I'll taste your pie. Did you make it?"

"I helped a little, but it was mostly my mom and Chandra. Joy was at
work." Cody served a piece of pie on a paper plate and found him a
plastic fork.

Darien leaned against his truck and tasted the pie. "Delicious. Could
I have two?"

"Sure!" cried Cody and carried them out to the truck carefully, one
at a time. "I knew you would like it."

"You tell your mom she's a good cook," he said as he reached into his
pocket for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"The pies are eight dollars each, but you get two for fifteen."

"That's a deal. And how about the jam?"

"It's four dollars a jar."

He gave Cody a twenty. "You keep the change as a delivery charge for
the jam. Bring it up to my house whenever you have the time. I'll see
you later. And don't forget to ask your mom about riding lessons."

"I won't," said Cody who just realised he had not yet even said a
word to his mom about meeting Mr. Stewart and having a ride on his
horse the other day.

"By the way, I caught the end of your soccer game. I never knew you
played – you looked good out there. I saw you get taken down hard
too, how's your leg?"

"A bit scraped but it's okay."

"Good man!" He gave Cody his empty plate and then waved as he got
into his truck and backed up to his own driveway.

It wasn't long after Darien had left before Elana came down to see
how Cody was doing. He was just about to tell her about his big sale
when a silver BMW drove up. A lady with spiky red hair lowered her
window and looked over at them impatiently.

"Not again," said Elana under her breath as she went up to see what
the <stick woman> wanted. Cody followed her.

"What are you selling today in your <cute> little stand?" she asked.

"Pumpkin pies," said Cody.

"They are amazingly fattening," said Elana. "They are full of cream
and eggs and brown sugar and maple syrup. If I'd known you were
coming I'd have made some with just pumpkin and artificial sweetener.
You should have pre-ordered."

"Do you really think <I> would buy anything from <your> roadside
stand? I only stopped to warn you that we're not going to allow this
kind of thing to continue. Do you have a business licence? Has the
board of health inspected your kitchen? Darien will report you – I
can guarantee it. There is no way he'll stand for the sort of gross
violations you are involved in. And putting your child to work too –
there are child labour laws you know." She didn't wait for a reply
but put her car in gear and drove off, tires spinning on the loose
gravel.

"What business is it of his?" cried Elana. "How could he?"

"I don't think Mr. Stewart would . . ." began Cody.

"I wouldn't put it past him," said Elana. "Just be glad you don't
know him – he's not a nice man."

"But . . . he . . ."

"No, Cody," said Elana severely. "It's better that I don't talk about
it now. I'd be sure to say something I'd regret later. Let's just
forget about him and take the pies back to the house. How many are
left?"

"Four," said Cody quietly, not used to seeing his mom so angry. "I
sold two."

"You are such a sweetie, and I love you," she said, giving him a
hug. "I'm sorry I got upset. I'm not mad at you, you know."

"I know mom, but I think . . ."

"Shhh. Let's not worry about those people again. We have to live next
door to them, but we don't have to like them."

"But . . ."

"No buts, honey. Let's just have a good day. I'll put the pies into
boxes and you take down the sign."

~

Later Cody went into the kitchen cupboard and found the biggest jar
of blackberry jam he could. He put it into a bag and slipped out the
back door. Now was not a good time to tell his mom about it, but he
had promised Mr. Stewart and been paid for the jam, so he had to
deliver it. At bedtime, when she was no longer upset, he'd tell his
mom. He hoped he wouldn't forget this time.

Chapter Eight


Darien Stewart's house was much bigger than Cody had expected. He had
only seen the gabled roof rising up from the trees at a distance, but
now he found himself in a well-manicured garden with big, lush
shrubs. The house was white with green trim and a wrap-around porch.
He ran along a pathway that followed the perimeter to a set of stairs
and a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen. He hesitated and
then knocked lightly, and again, a bit more loudly. A young woman
opened the door and smiled at him.

"Hi there."

"I brought this jam that Mr. Stewart bought."

"Thanks. I'll see that he gets it," she said as she held out her
hand. "Do you need any money for it?"

"No – he already paid me," said Cody returning her smile. He turned
and quickly ran back the way he had come as she stood and watched
him.

~

Justie placed the jar of jam on the kitchen table and was about to
look for Darien when he walked into the room.

"A cute little boy just dropped this off," she said, indicating the
jar.

"Is he gone already? I was hoping to see him."

"He looked like he was in a hurry to go." She eyed her brother
suspiciously. "Is he a friend of yours? A new riding student? Or is
he selling jam for a Cub fundraiser?"

"He's our next door neighbour. I actually bought that jam from him as
a present for you, and two delicious pumpkin pies as well."

"Doesn't Mrs. Renton always make us pies for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, but I couldn't resist his sales pitch. Besides, he was giving
out samples. Don't tell Mrs. R., but as good as her pies are they
just don't measure up."

"Really?" There was a glint in Justie's eyes. "Maybe we should just
eat them before she finds out they exist – we don't want her feelings
hurt. Got any whipping cream?"

"Silly question."

"Right. Shall we heat the pies or eat them cold?"

"We're going to eat both of them now, by ourselves?"

"It's called hiding the evidence."

"Mrs. R. won't be here till Monday – we can save one for tomorrow."

"Okay, but if Lina and Carl come in and want some, don't expect me to
share my half."

"How you manage to stay so skinny the way you eat, I'll never know."

"You can talk! I'll whip the cream if you put the pie in the oven."

"So you want it hot, then?" said Darien as he went over to the oven
and pressed the buttons. "It'll take longer."

"I'm prepared to wait," said Justie. "After all, I've got this jam to
test." She got a loaf of bread out of the cupboard. "You having some
too?" At his nod she put two slices in the toaster. "Just like old
times." She smiled and pulled herself up to sit on the counter.

"I've missed having you around. I'm glad you're back, even if it was
because things didn't work out for you."

"Water under the bridge. I never should've left. I can see that now –
but hindsight is always 20/20, isn't it? Trust me, I'll meet some new
guy and get just as blinded. How about you? Anyone interesting in
your life, or just your stalker?"

"Lina's not that bad, and she's doing an amazing job with all the
equestrian events. You know I can't be bothered with that end of the
business."

"You're avoiding my question."

"Sorry to disappoint you – my life is as boring as ever."

Just then the toast popped and Justie reached for the butter as
Darien got two plates out. She spread both pieces thickly with the
jam.

"Blackberry! It's heavenly. You just don't get this in the city." She
took another huge bite and closed her eyes as she savoured it. "Don't
tell me that little boy made this."

"I think his mom did," said Darien in an off-hand way.

"So, what's the story there?"

He let out a huge sigh. "She's not selling the place. Thinks she can
clean it up and make it operational."

"She?" Justie looked at him intently.

"Cody's mom. She's divorced or something. She's trying to rebuild the
business with just the help of that old hippie who's been living
there. Selling jam and pies. Labouring out there in those ramshackle
greenhouses from morning till night, with nothing to show for it.
I've got to hand it to her – she's determined as hell but it's a
losing battle. I don't know what she knows about business but that
place is going to kill her."

"I thought you said there was no one interesting in your life right
now?"

"What? You're way off base, Justie. I've barely spoken to her, except
to tell her off. I think what she's doing is pointless – she should
take my money and run. I'm offering way more than that place is
really worth, you know. I just want to get rid of it." He finished
his toast and licked his fingers. "She does make good jam, though.
Hey, aren't you supposed to be whipping the cream?"

"Yes," she said as she got out the mixer. "So, what's her name?"

"Whose name?"

"The little boy's mom. The one that's got you so riled. The one who's
not interesting and not in your life."

"Her name's Elana, and she's definitely not in my life."

"I believe you," said Justie, smirking.

They were sitting and eating their pie when Lina tapped at the back
door. Justie sighed and gave Darien an `I told you so' look.

"Justie darling!" cried Lina as she burst through the door without
waiting for either of them to open it. "How are you? I thought you'd
been resting from your trip."

"It's only a three and a half hour drive on the best road in BC. My
Cabrio loved it."

"So you're back to stay!" She gave Justie a look of deep pity and
then continued, attempting to suffuse her voice with empathy. "You
poor thing. Don't worry – I'll take you out to the best parties and
introduce you to some really great guys. It's like falling off a
horse; you have to jump right back on."

"Thanks Lina, but I'm fine. I can't wait to get back into teaching
lessons again."

"I've been telling <everybody>. They are just so excited!"

Lina sat down and began to fill Justie in about her plans for the
next meet, and the many social obligations that she had. Darien got
another plate and served her a piece of pie, making sure that it was
from his half because Justie's eagle eyes were on him.

"Oh, thank you, Darien," Lina said, turning a flashing smile on
him. "I have to tell you about the run in I had earlier today with
that hippie who lives next door."

"Sam? He's an inoffensive old guy. What did he do to bother you?"

"Not him! I wouldn't be caught dead talking to him. I mean her.
Elaine. Remember I told you what she said to me about the jam? That
she makes it with stuff that causes cancer in rats? Well, today she
was down there in her tacky little stand selling pies, like a little
kid. Pathetic. And she came on to me all smart-ass saying that they
were full of ingredients that would make me fat and that she would
have made some diet pies for me if she knew I wanted some." She took
a forkful of her pie and then continued. "As if I'd eat some stinking
pie she'd cooked."

"Of course you wouldn't," said Darien levelly as Justie almost choked
in an attempt not to laugh.

"Mrs. R. makes the best pie," said Lina as she finished another
mouthful. "Don't forget to tell her how much I enjoyed it."

"I'll make a point of it."

"Anyway, I let Elaine have it. I told her you'd call the board of
health and have them send inspectors out, and I said you'd report her
for not having a business licence. Really, what does she think she
is, having that stupid little roadside stand there so close to our
place?"

"What gave you the right to tell her I was going to report her?"
Darien's voice had become cold and hard and the laughter had gone
from his face.

"Of course you will. She has to be stopped. She's going to give
Stewart Stables a bad name, setting up her airy-fairy business next
door. It's bad enough the trash she has living there, but this is
totally unacceptable. Mrs Burke-Lewsen was complaining just the other
day about having to drive behind that rusty Volvo as it belched
exhaust on her Lexus all the way up Haven Road. You have to do
something."

"When I think I have to do something, I will. I don't want you
speaking for me, and I certainly don't want you telling me what I
have to do."

"Darien, sweetheart, I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just giving
you some good advice from a business standpoint. Maybe I went
overboard a bit, but really! You wouldn't have taken that nonsense
from her yourself!"

"Who has been giving you nonsense, Lina?" asked Carl as he walked
into the room. He looked over at Darien. "I rang the doorbell but no
one answered, so I let myself in. Figured you'd be in here."

"Oh, you wouldn't care, Carl," answered Lina. "You like those people."

"If you're talking about Elana and Joy and Chandra, then you're
right. I do like them and I'm having Thanksgiving dinner with them
tomorrow."

"If you want a preview," said Darien, "how about some pumpkin pie?
Elana made it. I bought two pies from Cody at the stand today."

The look on Lina's face was so priceless that it was all Justie could
do to stop herself from laughing out loud. She didn't even comment
when Carl cut a large piece from her side of the pie.

Lina turned to her brother and, with less control than she'd used
earlier, repeated her entire conversation with Elana leaving no doubt
as to her feelings.

~

As he was being tucked into bed, Cody suddenly remembered that he had
something important to tell his mother.

"Mom, you know those two pies I sold today?"

"Yes sweetie, that was just great," said Elana as she sat on the bed
and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"Well, the person who bought them was Mr. Stewart."

"What?" asked Elana in surprise. She began to feel the resentment
from earlier in the day rise again. "What's he doing buying my pies?
Planning on taking them in for analysis?"

"Mom, I don't think he'd do that. He's nice. He told me to tell you
that you're a good cook."

"He said that? He tasted the pie?"

"I was giving out samples. He really liked it."

"Well, I'm sorry honey, but I don't trust him. You know what his
girlfriend said – that he was going to report me."

"Is that scary lady really his girlfriend?"

"Probably. She's always over there and he deserves her. Anyway, don't
worry about it. I'm proud of you selling the pies regardless of who
bought them." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "Have a
sweet night. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

Cody put his arms around her neck and hugged her. "I put all the
bedbugs in your bed," he teased. This wasn't the right time to tell
her about the jam or ask about riding lessons. He didn't really
understand why she'd been so upset earlier and why she didn't like
Mr. Stewart, but he knew it had something to do with the time he'd
yelled at her about the fire. Cody had to admit to having been sort
of scared that day himself, but when he'd met Mr. Stewart again the
man was friendly. He didn't like to see his mom worried; she worked
so hard all the time and he wanted her to be happy. When she got to
know Mr. Stewart better she'd see that he was nice – the thing would
be for them to talk to each other without getting mad. That stick
lady with the weird hair was just causing problems.

~

Thanksgiving dinner was a united effort. Sam and Cody decorated the
table with a basket spilling over with red and yellow maple leaves,
decorative gourds, and Indian corn. The three girls worked on the
feast together and Joy also made a special effort in getting the
house to look just perfect. By 5:30 she was very obviously nervous,
fiddling with the place settings and napkin holders and plumping up
the throw pillows on the couch for the umpteenth time. When the
doorbell rang she rushed into the kitchen and urged Cody to go and
open the door.

"But you were just in the living room," said Cody as Chandra and
Elana snickered at Joy. He ran to get the door anyway while Joy tried
to convince one of the other girls to join her in the living room.

"I'm still making the gravy," Elana said.

"Have to drain the Brussels sprouts," said Chandra. "Very serious
business. Get in there – you're the one he wants to see."

Joy went into the living room to see Cody introducing Carl Bingham to
Smeagol. Carl looked up and smiled and the kitten in his arms was
forgotten until it climbed up his sweater to perch on his shoulder.

Joy reached for the kitten. "I hope he's not being a pest," she said.

"Not at all."

He bent his head forward as Smeagol crawled around the back of his
neck, out of the way of Joy's hand. She reached with her other hand
to get the kitten as he made his way onto Carl's shoulder, but
suddenly stopped when she realised she almost had her arms around his
neck. They both giggled and then Carl reached up and plucked the
kitten from his back. Joy helped extricate the claws that didn't want
to give up their hold of the wool. He placed the kitten in her hands
as his warm eyes held hers. She smiled shyly and then put the kitten
on the couch.

"I'm glad you were able to come."

"I am too. Dinner smells delicious and the room looks wonderful – so
do you."

"Thanks," said Joy, colouring lightly, and offered him a
seat. "That's a really nice sweater you're wearing. I hope the kitten
didn't snag it."

"It wouldn't matter if he did."

Cody was distracted from watching this interesting exchange by the
doorbell ringing again. This time it was Sam who had gone home to
dress up for dinner. He was now wearing his best jeans and a new
denim shirt with a rust coloured tie.

"Well aren't you all spiffed up!" said Chandra to Sam as she came
from the kitchen. She greeted Carl and then continued, "We need
someone to carve up the bird. Which of you gentlemen want to do the
honours?"

Carl offered, saying that he didn't often get the chance. "I always
spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with Darien and his family and he
never lets me do it. You don't know how thrilled I am to have been
invited here today. First I get to enjoy all your lovely company,
then I get to have an extra turkey dinner, which is my favourite, and
now I get to carve. A dream come true."

"You're having dinner at the Stewart's tomorrow?" said Chandra. "I'm
going to dinner with my family in Comox, and Joy's going to her
aunt's. It's great that Elana decided to do hers today instead. Of
course by Tuesday we'll all be a size larger and won't fit any of our
clothes."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," said Carl.


After dinner they sat around the table for quite some time just
talking and laughing, then Carl insisted that he and Sam and Cody
would do the dishes while the girls put away all the leftovers. When
that was done Carl built a fire in the fireplace while Sam went home
to fetch his guitar. They sang old favourites as Sam and Carl took
turns strumming. Before they knew it, it was 9:30, and Elana got up
to put the kettle on and warm up the pies. Chandra offered to help
with the tea and coffee and to whip the cream, leaving Sam behind
teaching Cody a few easy chords, and Joy and Carl sitting side by
side on the couch talking softly and gazing into the fire. When Elana
eventually handed around the desert, Carl suddenly remembered
something he'd been meaning to tell her.

"I want to apologise for my sister."

Elana looked at him, confused. "Your sister?"

"Yes. I was at Darien's yesterday and she told me what she'd said to
you in the afternoon."

"The woman in the silver BMW is your sister?" asked Elana.

"I'm sorry – I didn't realise she'd never introduced herself to you.
Yes, she is. She works at the stables and gets quite . . .
overprotective where Darien is concerned. What she said to you was
completely out of line. I hope you don't think Darien had anything to
do with it – he was just as angry as I was when he found out what
she'd said to you."

"See, mom! I told you," piped up Cody.

"He has no intentions of reporting you to anybody," said Carl. "I
don't know what got into Lina or why she thought she had to say those
things, but there's no foundation to them. I'm really sorry she was
so rude to you."

"Don't worry about what your sister said." Elana took a sip of her
tea and then looked Carl in the eye. "I think that I set her off with
my own remarks. She'd said something that got my back up another day
and I was being reactive. <I>You</I> have nothing to be sorry about.
And thanks for telling me that Darien Stewart isn't about to report
me for anything. It really eases my mind, though I don't think I've
done anything illegal, have I?"

"I think what you are doing right now is on such a small scale that
you don't need a business licence, but you'll have to get one in the
future, when you start production in the greenhouses."

"Of course," said Elana.

"By the way, I have to admit that this isn't the first time I've
tasted your delicious pie," said Carl. "When I walked in on Darien
and his sister and Lina yesterday, they were all enjoying it around
the kitchen table."

"Your sister was eating my pie?"

"By the look on her face when Darien told me you made it, I don't
think she knew it was yours," said Carl with a laugh.

~

Later that night as Elana lay in bed she recalled what Carl had said
and how she had laughed until tears were streaming down her face.
What poetic justice! Then she sobered a bit as she thought of Darien
Stewart. She had misjudged him a bit – she was forced to admit it.
She had been ready to believe the worst of him, but he'd only bought
the pies to eat, and he'd enjoyed them. She felt a little thrill of
pleasure, as if she'd proved something to him. But she knew that by
selling jars of jam and pumpkin pies she still really hadn't
accomplished anything, and Carl's sister Lina had really brought that
home to her. She had to stop Mickey Mousing around with little
projects and concentrate on the big picture. The next step was going
to be a huge one, but she had to decide what direction she'd take the
business in. There was going to be no room for error – the way she
saw it she had only one chance to prove herself. She was going to
make a go of it if it was the last thing she did, and Darien Stewart
was going to eat crow.

Chapter Eight


Darien Stewart's house was much bigger than Cody had expected. He had
only seen the gabled roof rising up from the trees at a distance, but
now he found himself in a well-manicured garden with big, lush
shrubs. The house was white with green trim and a wrap-around porch.
He ran along a pathway that followed the perimeter to a set of stairs
and a door that appeared to lead to the kitchen. He hesitated and
then knocked lightly, and again, a bit more loudly. A young woman
opened the door and smiled at him.

"Hi there."

"I brought this jam that Mr. Stewart bought."

"Thanks. I'll see that he gets it," she said as she held out her
hand. "Do you need any money for it?"

"No – he already paid me," said Cody returning her smile. He turned
and quickly ran back the way he had come as she stood and watched
him.

~

Justie placed the jar of jam on the kitchen table and was about to
look for Darien when he walked into the room.

"A cute little boy just dropped this off," she said, indicating the
jar.

"Is he gone already? I was hoping to see him."

"He looked like he was in a hurry to go." She eyed her brother
suspiciously. "Is he a friend of yours? A new riding student? Or is
he selling jam for a Cub fundraiser?"

"He's our next door neighbour. I actually bought that jam from him as
a present for you, and two delicious pumpkin pies as well."

"Doesn't Mrs. Renton always make us pies for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, but I couldn't resist his sales pitch. Besides, he was giving
out samples. Don't tell Mrs. R., but as good as her pies are they
just don't measure up."

"Really?" There was a glint in Justie's eyes. "Maybe we should just
eat them before she finds out they exist – we don't want her feelings
hurt. Got any whipping cream?"

"Silly question."

"Right. Shall we heat the pies or eat them cold?"

"We're going to eat both of them now, by ourselves?"

"It's called hiding the evidence."

"Mrs. R. won't be here till Monday – we can save one for tomorrow."

"Okay, but if Lina and Carl come in and want some, don't expect me to
share my half."

"How you manage to stay so skinny the way you eat, I'll never know."

"You can talk! I'll whip the cream if you put the pie in the oven."

"So you want it hot, then?" said Darien as he went over to the oven
and pressed the buttons. "It'll take longer."

"I'm prepared to wait," said Justie. "After all, I've got this jam to
test." She got a loaf of bread out of the cupboard. "You having some
too?" At his nod she put two slices in the toaster. "Just like old
times." She smiled and pulled herself up to sit on the counter.

"I've missed having you around. I'm glad you're back, even if it was
because things didn't work out for you."

"Water under the bridge. I never should've left. I can see that now –
but hindsight is always 20/20, isn't it? Trust me, I'll meet some new
guy and get just as blinded. How about you? Anyone interesting in
your life, or just your stalker?"

"Lina's not that bad, and she's doing an amazing job with all the
equestrian events. You know I can't be bothered with that end of the
business."

"You're avoiding my question."

"Sorry to disappoint you – my life is as boring as ever."

Just then the toast popped and Justie reached for the butter as
Darien got two plates out. She spread both pieces thickly with the
jam.

"Blackberry! It's heavenly. You just don't get this in the city." She
took another huge bite and closed her eyes as she savoured it. "Don't
tell me that little boy made this."

"I think his mom did," said Darien in an off-hand way.

"So, what's the story there?"

He let out a huge sigh. "She's not selling the place. Thinks she can
clean it up and make it operational."

"She?" Justie looked at him intently.

"Cody's mom. She's divorced or something. She's trying to rebuild the
business with just the help of that old hippie who's been living
there. Selling jam and pies. Labouring out there in those ramshackle
greenhouses from morning till night, with nothing to show for it.
I've got to hand it to her – she's determined as hell but it's a
losing battle. I don't know what she knows about business but that
place is going to kill her."

"I thought you said there was no one interesting in your life right
now?"

"What? You're way off base, Justie. I've barely spoken to her, except
to tell her off. I think what she's doing is pointless – she should
take my money and run. I'm offering way more than that place is
really worth, you know. I just want to get rid of it." He finished
his toast and licked his fingers. "She does make good jam, though.
Hey, aren't you supposed to be whipping the cream?"

"Yes," she said as she got out the mixer. "So, what's her name?"

"Whose name?"

"The little boy's mom. The one that's got you so riled. The one who's
not interesting and not in your life."

"Her name's Elana, and she's definitely not in my life."

"I believe you," said Justie, smirking.

They were sitting and eating their pie when Lina tapped at the back
door. Justie sighed and gave Darien an `I told you so' look.

"Justie darling!" cried Lina as she burst through the door without
waiting for either of them to open it. "How are you? I thought you'd
been resting from your trip."

"It's only a three and a half hour drive on the best road in BC. My
Cabrio loved it."

"So you're back to stay!" She gave Justie a look of deep pity and
then continued, attempting to suffuse her voice with empathy. "You
poor thing. Don't worry – I'll take you out to the best parties and
introduce you to some really great guys. It's like falling off a
horse; you have to jump right back on."

"Thanks Lina, but I'm fine. I can't wait to get back into teaching
lessons again."

"I've been telling <everybody>. They are just so excited!"

Lina sat down and began to fill Justie in about her plans for the
next meet, and the many social obligations that she had. Darien got
another plate and served her a piece of pie, making sure that it was
from his half because Justie's eagle eyes were on him.

"Oh, thank you, Darien," Lina said, turning a flashing smile on
him. "I have to tell you about the run in I had earlier today with
that hippie who lives next door."

"Sam? He's an inoffensive old guy. What did he do to bother you?"

"Not him! I wouldn't be caught dead talking to him. I mean her.
Elaine. Remember I told you what she said to me about the jam? That
she makes it with stuff that causes cancer in rats? Well, today she
was down there in her tacky little stand selling pies, like a little
kid. Pathetic. And she came on to me all smart-ass saying that they
were full of ingredients that would make me fat and that she would
have made some diet pies for me if she knew I wanted some." She took
a forkful of her pie and then continued. "As if I'd eat some stinking
pie she'd cooked."

"Of course you wouldn't," said Darien levelly as Justie almost choked
in an attempt not to laugh.

"Mrs. R. makes the best pie," said Lina as she finished another
mouthful. "Don't forget to tell her how much I enjoyed it."

"I'll make a point of it."

"Anyway, I let Elaine have it. I told her you'd call the board of
health and have them send inspectors out, and I said you'd report her
for not having a business licence. Really, what does she think she
is, having that stupid little roadside stand there so close to our
place?"

"What gave you the right to tell her I was going to report her?"
Darien's voice had become cold and hard and the laughter had gone
from his face.

"Of course you will. She has to be stopped. She's going to give
Stewart Stables a bad name, setting up her airy-fairy business next
door. It's bad enough the trash she has living there, but this is
totally unacceptable. Mrs Burke-Lewsen was complaining just the other
day about having to drive behind that rusty Volvo as it belched
exhaust on her Lexus all the way up Haven Road. You have to do
something."

"When I think I have to do something, I will. I don't want you
speaking for me, and I certainly don't want you telling me what I
have to do."

"Darien, sweetheart, I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just giving
you some good advice from a business standpoint. Maybe I went
overboard a bit, but really! You wouldn't have taken that nonsense
from her yourself!"

"Who has been giving you nonsense, Lina?" asked Carl as he walked
into the room. He looked over at Darien. "I rang the doorbell but no
one answered, so I let myself in. Figured you'd be in here."

"Oh, you wouldn't care, Carl," answered Lina. "You like those people."

"If you're talking about Elana and Joy and Chandra, then you're
right. I do like them and I'm having Thanksgiving dinner with them
tomorrow."

"If you want a preview," said Darien, "how about some pumpkin pie?
Elana made it. I bought two pies from Cody at the stand today."

The look on Lina's face was so priceless that it was all Justie could
do to stop herself from laughing out loud. She didn't even comment
when Carl cut a large piece from her side of the pie.

Lina turned to her brother and, with less control than she'd used
earlier, repeated her entire conversation with Elana leaving no doubt
as to her feelings.

~

As he was being tucked into bed, Cody suddenly remembered that he had
something important to tell his mother.

"Mom, you know those two pies I sold today?"

"Yes sweetie, that was just great," said Elana as she sat on the bed
and brushed his hair back from his forehead.

"Well, the person who bought them was Mr. Stewart."

"What?" asked Elana in surprise. She began to feel the resentment
from earlier in the day rise again. "What's he doing buying my pies?
Planning on taking them in for analysis?"

"Mom, I don't think he'd do that. He's nice. He told me to tell you
that you're a good cook."

"He said that? He tasted the pie?"

"I was giving out samples. He really liked it."

"Well, I'm sorry honey, but I don't trust him. You know what his
girlfriend said – that he was going to report me."

"Is that scary lady really his girlfriend?"

"Probably. She's always over there and he deserves her. Anyway, don't
worry about it. I'm proud of you selling the pies regardless of who
bought them." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "Have a
sweet night. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

Cody put his arms around her neck and hugged her. "I put all the
bedbugs in your bed," he teased. This wasn't the right time to tell
her about the jam or ask about riding lessons. He didn't really
understand why she'd been so upset earlier and why she didn't like
Mr. Stewart, but he knew it had something to do with the time he'd
yelled at her about the fire. Cody had to admit to having been sort
of scared that day himself, but when he'd met Mr. Stewart again the
man was friendly. He didn't like to see his mom worried; she worked
so hard all the time and he wanted her to be happy. When she got to
know Mr. Stewart better she'd see that he was nice – the thing would
be for them to talk to each other without getting mad. That stick
lady with the weird hair was just causing problems.

~

Thanksgiving dinner was a united effort. Sam and Cody decorated the
table with a basket spilling over with red and yellow maple leaves,
decorative gourds, and Indian corn. The three girls worked on the
feast together and Joy also made a special effort in getting the
house to look just perfect. By 5:30 she was very obviously nervous,
fiddling with the place settings and napkin holders and plumping up
the throw pillows on the couch for the umpteenth time. When the
doorbell rang she rushed into the kitchen and urged Cody to go and
open the door.

"But you were just in the living room," said Cody as Chandra and
Elana snickered at Joy. He ran to get the door anyway while Joy tried
to convince one of the other girls to join her in the living room.

"I'm still making the gravy," Elana said.

"Have to drain the Brussels sprouts," said Chandra. "Very serious
business. Get in there – you're the one he wants to see."

Joy went into the living room to see Cody introducing Carl Bingham to
Smeagol. Carl looked up and smiled and the kitten in his arms was
forgotten until it climbed up his sweater to perch on his shoulder.

Joy reached for the kitten. "I hope he's not being a pest," she said.

"Not at all."

He bent his head forward as Smeagol crawled around the back of his
neck, out of the way of Joy's hand. She reached with her other hand
to get the kitten as he made his way onto Carl's shoulder, but
suddenly stopped when she realised she almost had her arms around his
neck. They both giggled and then Carl reached up and plucked the
kitten from his back. Joy helped extricate the claws that didn't want
to give up their hold of the wool. He placed the kitten in her hands
as his warm eyes held hers. She smiled shyly and then put the kitten
on the couch.

"I'm glad you were able to come."

"I am too. Dinner smells delicious and the room looks wonderful – so
do you."

"Thanks," said Joy, colouring lightly, and offered him a
seat. "That's a really nice sweater you're wearing. I hope the kitten
didn't snag it."

"It wouldn't matter if he did."

Cody was distracted from watching this interesting exchange by the
doorbell ringing again. This time it was Sam who had gone home to
dress up for dinner. He was now wearing his best jeans and a new
denim shirt with a rust coloured tie.

"Well aren't you all spiffed up!" said Chandra to Sam as she came
from the kitchen. She greeted Carl and then continued, "We need
someone to carve up the bird. Which of you gentlemen want to do the
honours?"

Carl offered, saying that he didn't often get the chance. "I always
spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with Darien and his family and he
never lets me do it. You don't know how thrilled I am to have been
invited here today. First I get to enjoy all your lovely company,
then I get to have an extra turkey dinner, which is my favourite, and
now I get to carve. A dream come true."

"You're having dinner at the Stewart's tomorrow?" said Chandra. "I'm
going to dinner with my family in Comox, and Joy's going to her
aunt's. It's great that Elana decided to do hers today instead. Of
course by Tuesday we'll all be a size larger and won't fit any of our
clothes."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," said Carl.


After dinner they sat around the table for quite some time just
talking and laughing, then Carl insisted that he and Sam and Cody
would do the dishes while the girls put away all the leftovers. When
that was done Carl built a fire in the fireplace while Sam went home
to fetch his guitar. They sang old favourites as Sam and Carl took
turns strumming. Before they knew it, it was 9:30, and Elana got up
to put the kettle on and warm up the pies. Chandra offered to help
with the tea and coffee and to whip the cream, leaving Sam behind
teaching Cody a few easy chords, and Joy and Carl sitting side by
side on the couch talking softly and gazing into the fire. When Elana
eventually handed around the desert, Carl suddenly remembered
something he'd been meaning to tell her.

"I want to apologise for my sister."

Elana looked at him, confused. "Your sister?"

"Yes. I was at Darien's yesterday and she told me what she'd said to
you in the afternoon."

"The woman in the silver BMW is your sister?" asked Elana.

"I'm sorry – I didn't realise she'd never introduced herself to you.
Yes, she is. She works at the stables and gets quite . . .
overprotective where Darien is concerned. What she said to you was
completely out of line. I hope you don't think Darien had anything to
do with it – he was just as angry as I was when he found out what
she'd said to you."

"See, mom! I told you," piped up Cody.

"He has no intentions of reporting you to anybody," said Carl. "I
don't know what got into Lina or why she thought she had to say those
things, but there's no foundation to them. I'm really sorry she was
so rude to you."

"Don't worry about what your sister said." Elana took a sip of her
tea and then looked Carl in the eye. "I think that I set her off with
my own remarks. She'd said something that got my back up another day
and I was being reactive. <I>You</I> have nothing to be sorry about.
And thanks for telling me that Darien Stewart isn't about to report
me for anything. It really eases my mind, though I don't think I've
done anything illegal, have I?"

"I think what you are doing right now is on such a small scale that
you don't need a business licence, but you'll have to get one in the
future, when you start production in the greenhouses."

"Of course," said Elana.

"By the way, I have to admit that this isn't the first time I've
tasted your delicious pie," said Carl. "When I walked in on Darien
and his sister and Lina yesterday, they were all enjoying it around
the kitchen table."

"Your sister was eating my pie?"

"By the look on her face when Darien told me you made it, I don't
think she knew it was yours," said Carl with a laugh.

~

Later that night as Elana lay in bed she recalled what Carl had said
and how she had laughed until tears were streaming down her face.
What poetic justice! Then she sobered a bit as she thought of Darien
Stewart. She had misjudged him a bit – she was forced to admit it.
She had been ready to believe the worst of him, but he'd only bought
the pies to eat, and he'd enjoyed them. She felt a little thrill of
pleasure, as if she'd proved something to him. But she knew that by
selling jars of jam and pumpkin pies she still really hadn't
accomplished anything, and Carl's sister Lina had really brought that
home to her. She had to stop Mickey Mousing around with little
projects and concentrate on the big picture. The next step was going
to be a huge one, but she had to decide what direction she'd take the
business in. There was going to be no room for error – the way she
saw it she had only one chance to prove herself. She was going to
make a go of it if it was the last thing she did, and Darien Stewart
was going to eat crow.

Chapter Ten

Even though the plastic had been replaced on the greenhouses there
was still an incredible amount of work to do before Elana would be
ready to receive and plant the cuttings that she had ordered. The
fans for the heated greenhouses were on backorder and would not
arrive for another week. The potting and cutting benches were not
ready – the installation of the hoses had taken much longer and had
caused much more trouble than expected. And when the benches for the
cuttings were finished all the heating cables had to be run across
them. Elana found that if she just took one day at a time and did
not look at the big picture, she wasn't quite as overwhelmed by the
amount of work she had still to do. If it wasn't for Dennis coming
every day she knew that she and Sam would never be ready on time.

In addition to this there was her continued concern about Cody's
developing friendship with <him> – Darien Stewart. From things he
let slip it was apparent that Cody had some kind of contact with
Stewart on most of his lesson days. She was still furious with the
man for allowing her son on his horse. That had not occurred again,
nor had he brought him home since that first time, but he often
stopped and talked to Cody as he passed by the stables and the look
in Cody's eyes when he mentioned him frightened her. She knew that
though Cody was happy with her, he really did miss having a
masculine figure in his life. His open admiration of Colin Fox
proved how much a male role model meant to him, and though his
regard for Darien Stewart was more guarded, Elana sensed that it was
somehow stronger. She did not mind at all that he idolised Colin
Fox, but her neighbour was another matter. Perversely she felt that
if she did not like him, her son shouldn't either. As she worked,
conflicting thoughts continually revolved in her head – she wished
she had never agreed to the riding lessons though it was a pleasure
to see Cody's face light up every time he spoke of them.

It was the middle of November – the greenhouses were finally ready,
and the cuttings were arriving first thing in the morning. Elana was
bone tired. She upended her wheelbarrow on the rubbish heap and
looked about her. A huge jack-o-lantern grinning from the compost
pile took her by surprise in the waning light and set her heart
beating rapidly. As she stood, trying to calm herself, she realised
that Halloween had come and gone and had barely even registered upon
her. Sam had sold most of his pumpkins to classes of primary school
children who had come to the pumpkin patch the last week of October
while she had been digging and hammering, totally oblivious to
anything else that was going on around her. Chandra had made Cody's
costume. Joy and Carl had helped carve the pumpkin and taken Cody
out trick or treating. She steeled herself and stared back at the
ghoulish face that appeared to be rising out of the mouldering
compost.

"Thanks," she said. "It took a pumpkin-head like you to tell me that
I've been neglecting my kid." It was little wonder all she heard
from him was Mr. Fox this or Mr. Stewart that.

She almost ran back to the house, wheelbarrow bouncing and jarring
through ruts and potholes as she went. Elana washed up in the
laundry sink and pulled off her coveralls, hanging them on a hook.

In the kitchen Joy was cooking supper. She turned around from the
stove and smiled.
"You look exhausted. The pasta's almost ready – I know you must be
hungry – Sam says you didn't stop for lunch."

"Where's Cody?"

"He'll be back soon. Chandra's picking him up from soccer practice,
remember? They're always a little late . . . getting those two away
from Colin Fox is like . . ." She searched for a suitable metaphor.

"I think Colin exacerbates the problem," said Elana as she took the
rotini that Joy held out to her and tasted it to see if it was
done. "<Al dente, perfecto>! He loves the attention."

The front door burst open and running feet clattered upon the
hardwood. Cody's excited face appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Mom!
I got chosen to do corner kicks! Mr Fox said I've got the best left
foot on the team." He was just about bouncing up and down.

"That's wonderful, honey, but you've still got your cleats on don't
you?"

"Oops. Sorry mom." Cody sat down and pulled at his laces. "I just
wanted to tell you so badly."

"Hey, what're these huge gouges on the living room floor," cried
Chandra as she came into the house. "You little melon head!"

Cody's face turned white.

"She's only joking, silly," said Elana as she crouched down to help
him off with his shoes. "Now go and get changed. Supper's ready. You
can tell me all about it while we eat and I promise to listen to
every word. I'm really proud of you." She tousled his hair before he
ran to his room.

~

The rest of November Elana worked just as hard. There were hundreds
of cuttings to be dipped in rooting hormones and planted into flats
while Sam worked at getting the other four greenhouses in order,
levelling beds, building benches, and running wires across for
hanging all the baskets on in the spring. There was no end of work
to be done, but Elana stopped her workday when Cody came home from
school, always walked him to and from his riding lessons, and took
over all the soccer driving duties she had given up even though
Chandra wasn't very thrilled with the idea.

"How'm I ever going to convince the guy I was made for him if he
never sees me again?" she complained.

"I thought absence made the heart grow fonder," said Elana, laughing.

"Look, I'm dying here!"

"So, maybe he'll call you. He knows the number."

"He did ask me if you were coming to the next game," Cody piped up.

"You're not just saying that to make me feel good?"

Chandra grabbed Cody and whirled him around by his arms. Elana stood
back and watched, her smile growing. It didn't matter that once Cody
was in bed she would be back out in the greenhouse planting cuttings
by the weak light cast by a dangling bulb. Her afternoons with Cody
made all the intensive work bearable.

~

Darien hadn't failed to notice the soft light shining through the
trees every night for the past two weeks. It made him think of those
Soul Asylum lyrics, 'your dim light shines from so far away'*, and
that didn't make it any easier. That song was about things not
working out – not reassuring by any means. He was still haunted by
the very thought of her and trying hard to ignore the fact. The only
time he really let it overtake him was each night while he was
writing, and then Lanea would take shape under his fingers and fly
freely as he pounded on the keyboard, taking all those withheld
thoughts and creating vibrant, evocative images that he knew had
nothing to do with Elana at all - though she, it seemed, was
destined to be his muse, whether he wanted it that way or not.

What she would think of it, he had no idea. He'd seen her a few
times, mostly from a distance, when she'd picked Cody up from his
lessons. Once he'd even been in the barn when she was there and had
nodded to her as he hung his tack upon a peg. She'd glanced his way
and then said something to Cody, her eyes warm with affection as
they'd rested on her son. He hadn't had another opportunity to speak
to her, but after their encounter in her driveway he could only
think that it was a good thing.

Despite himself, he got up from his desk and walked over to the
window and watched the unsteady glow that came from the greenhouse.
His light, too, must be shining through the trees, visible to anyone
who was looking – but nobody was looking. He returned to his
computer.

<The light shifted and she had to adjust her eyes to the darkness
once more. But she knew it was shining from the hill. She knew she
had to get there. She didn't know how or why, but she was drawn
inexorably. Her blade met vine, stem, rock as she hacked her path.
The hillside shifted and changed before her. Elusive. Always hiding
what she was after – and yet she could not stop. It was a stronger
power that called her and she could not resist though her arm grew
weary and her blade dull>.

~

The Christmas craft fair opened on Friday, December third, at the
Filberg Centre. The clatter of Joy's loom had been heard almost
constantly for most of November. She'd reduced her hours at
Superstore and concentrated on her craft. Chandra and Elana spent
the afternoons knotting and twisting fringes on scarves and even
Cody made himself useful, helping set up Joy's bobbins when she
wound a new warp upon her sectional beam, and keeping Smeagol away
from the yarns as she threaded them through the heddles. He loved to
watch her weave, the steady rhythm of shuttle and beater, the pump
of the treadles and clack of the harnesses as they flew up and down,
heddles rattling softly. He loved to watch the cloth grow and
stretch over the breast beam, and down around the thick cloth beam
as her knees steadily rose and fell.

Besides scarves she wove shawls, blankets, hangings, pillows,
runners and place mats in silks, wools, and cottons. Some she hand
dyed; some had painted warps, ikat, double weave, tapestry. Colours
ranged from muted and mellow to vibrant, fiery hues and deep, dark
indigos.

All day Friday they set up her booth, using screens, tables, baskets
and an antique hallstand on which to display her wares. Tiny fairy
lights were threaded all around on strategically placed twisting
branches. At 5:45 Joy stood back for the umpteenth time to survey
the effect.

"I think it's ready."

"It's about time," said Chandra. "Doors open at six."

"It looks lovely," said Elana, who had come for the tail end of the
set up, after she'd picked Cody up from school and run a few
errands. "Now go and change quickly if you're going to, or meet your
first customers in faded jeans and a dusty sweatshirt.

"Oh!" cried Joy, and she grabbed her bag from behind her chair and
ran for the washroom.

"Wait for me," cried Chandra. "I'm sure I look like I've been
dragged through hell's half acres."

"I'll look after the stall, don't worry," said Elana.

The first night of the fair was almost a society occasion, it was
such a popular event. As the doors opened and people began to filter
in Elana realised that they were not only there to look at and buy
quality crafts by the best island artisans, they were also there to
see and be seen. All the craftspeople had to have their work
accepted by a jury in order to rent a booth for the week-long event.
The booths were large and well set out in the spacious hall. At one
end was a café with wrought iron tables, but for opening night,
drinks and hors d'oeuvres were being passed around on trays by
servers dressed in chic black. She hadn't really expected it to be
quite so dressy and she hoped she didn't look too dowdy in her
simple grey skirt and sage green shirt. None of that bothered Cody
at all – he just wanted to eat a few sausage rolls and go to the
booth that sold hand tooled leather belts with scabbards and
replicas of Frodo's dagger, Sting.

"They're not sharp at all Mom, c'mon – I'll show you."

She smiled in assent, and when Joy and Chandra returned she followed
Cody as he led her through the growing crowds and between the rows
of booths to the place in question. There was no doubt that the
craftsmanship was superb, or that the daggers were solely for
ornamentation, but the prices were well beyond Elana's means, so
they only looked. And as Cody dreamed Elana allowed herself to be
distracted by a booth that sold wonderful soaps with delicate,
natural fragrances. As she reached for a goats' milk and aloe soap a
low voice spoke beside her.

"No, try this one. Bergamot."

While she instinctively reached for the smooth greenish bar, she
raised her eyes up. She'd recognised the voice. Darien Stewart was
looking down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She
took the soap and raised it to her nose, breathing in the tangy
fragrance. How did he know I like bergamot? It was hard for her to
put it down, but she did. She picked up the aloe one and sniffed it,
but the scent didn't even register.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Did he really care? "They both smell very nice," she said, not
wanting to commit herself at all.

He picked up the goats' milk and aloe one and smelled it
carefully. "I think I can still smell the goat," he said.

Despite herself, she laughed. "Let me see that." He placed it in her
hand and she gave it another sniff. "I can't even smell the aloe,
let alone a goat," she said.

"Well, it probably tastes like goat then."

"I wasn't planning on eating the soap, though sometimes I wonder.
Look at this – passionfruit, kiwi, melon. I'm wondering where the
wasabe one is."

"Try that green one over there."

"It's only lettuce. But this one smells good. Ginger."

He took it from her. "A little sharp - like the root, not like
gingerbread."

"More like ginger beer."

"Are you buying soap?" The new voice was throaty and
provocative. "For me?"

Lina Leaned up against Darien and attempted to sniff the bar he
still held. Her hair was a more brilliant russet than usual and she
wore a slinky, silver dress that dipped deeply in both front and
back. Her voice had surprised Elana who had never heard her sound
other than imperious and shrill. She bit back a grin and was about
to turn and look for Cody when Lina noticed her. The look of
contempt she received plainly said she did not belong.

"I was just looking," he said, "but if you're interested in soap,
you might like to buy this one." He pointed at the aloe and goats'
milk soap.

By this time the craftsperson had finished with a customer and came
over to try and make a sale. "It's very good for the complexion,
especially if you have allergies or delicate skin," she said, and
went on to explain all the benefits of the soap.

Elana was surprised by Darien's remark after the conversation they'd
already had about the soap. Why would he steer his girlfriend to a
soap he apparently did not like? She picked up a soap at random and
said, "What about this one?"

"Rose geranium?" asked Lina scornfully, her normal tone back in her
voice. "I suppose it appeals to little country girls – but I'm
buying the one Darien suggested." She handed the goats' milk soap
over to the vendor and smiled up at Darien.

"I'll take the Rose Geranium one for my sister. It's just the kind
she likes," said Darien, looking straight ahead. He waited till
Lina's purchase was finished and then placed the pale pink soap on
the counter, along with the ginger one he still held.

Elana excused herself and turned to look for Cody who had luckily
only wandered to the next booth where they were making chocolate
truffles. She had found the whole exchange about the soaps rather
confusing and was happy to be with Cody who was straightforward and
uncomplicated. He wanted chocolate – that was very easy to
understand. She bought enough for them to share with Joy and
Chandra, and then they continued looking at the various crafts on
their way back through the fair.

Darien watched her walk off and meet Cody, then keep going without a
backward glance.

"Still slumming?" came the sultry voice in his ear. "Her Volvo would
look great in your garage – or maybe you two should use her place.
The old hippie could give her away at the wedding, and if you could
ever get the kid to wear something without holes in the knees he
could be the ring bearer . . ."

"Really Lina, sometimes you're completely encyclopaedic in your
ignorance."

She stared at him, unsure of the meaning of what he had just said,
but thinking that it might not be complimentary, she decided to
change her tactics. "I know I'm going to love that soap you
recommended," she said, pulling on his arm. "Let's go find Carl."

As he followed after her she reflected that it was probably just a
coincidence that he had been talking to that . . . that nobody.
After all, Elaine, or whatever her name was, was dressed so plainly
and her hair was so . . . unstyled – there was no way he'd gone up
to her on purpose. Nothing to worry about. But she'd almost blown it
over the soap. How was she to know that Justie liked that kind?

Darien wasn't thinking of soap at all. He'd actually forgotten that
it was there in his pocket. He was picturing Lanea in a sage green
tunic, smelling of lemon and ginger. When they ran into Justie at a
pottery booth he almost didn't even see her.

"Justie honey," crooned Lina, "guess where we just were? Buying you
some soap! Rose geranium – your favourite – I helped Darien choose
it."

"I guess you could say that," said Darien as he snapped back to the
here and now. "Are you looking at raku pots, Justie?"

"Yes. There's some here I really think you'll like," she said,
leading him into the stall.

Lina was left standing on her own. She looked around and saw some
friends across the room, flashed them an empty smile, and then
affected a deep interest in raku.

~

Two hours later, when Elana took Cody back to view the daggers one
last time before going home, she found herself in front of the soap
booth again. The bergamot soap was in her hand and she was buying
it. She wasn't sure exactly how it had happened.


* Promises Broken, Soul Asylum
Chapter 11

When the phone rang, Elana almost tripped over Smeagol as she ran
for the counter to put her groceries down before grabbing it. It was
the old lady from the curio shop. She'd found a bed, dresser and
wardrobe she believed were just what Elana was looking for.

"I took one look at it," she said, her voice thin and fervent, "and
I saw a vision of butter yellow walls, and a carpet in deep greens
and russets, and then I thought of you . . . are you still there?"

Elana had sunk to the floor with her back against the wall – she
could not remember having given the lady so much detail. "I . . .
yes, I'm here. Just surprised."

"Well, I hardly expected it myself when I walked into the man's
barn. He had a number of other items that I bought for the store,
but I left the bedroom furniture so that you could buy it from him
directly, dear. I'll just give you his number – he lives out
Merville way. I'm sure you know someone with a truck."

"Yes – thank you. I'll just get a pen."

When Elana finally hung up the phone she was shaking her head,
partly in disbelief, partly in mystification. The lady had rambled
on about the timelessness of oak, how furniture held a history that
could be read by touch, how the wood glowed in the weak winter sun
that filtered through the barn door, how it had whispered to her of
happy times in the past and the hopes of more to come. How she knew
when she saw it where it belonged. Her last words still echoed in
Elana's mind. <I see you and your little daughter lying against the
pillows laughing.> "But . . . I don't have a daughter," Elana had
responded. <No, not yet.> And she had rung off without saying
another word, not even goodbye.

Had she confused her with someone else? That was hardly likely –
she'd called her by name and described the colour of her bedroom
walls. The old dear was definitely a little gaga.

"Cody, do you want to look at some furniture before we run by the
craft fair to help Joy take down her booth?" called Elana into the
living room as she picked up the phone again.

"Sure, mom," said Cody as he came into the kitchen, Smeagol perched
on his shoulder.

While waiting for her call to be answered, Elana turned to Cody and
said, "Could you put the groceries away for me . . . oh hello – is
that Mr Armitage?"

Cody rifled through the bags, opening and closing cupboards and
fridge as quietly as he could while Elana got directions.

"Okay, bud, let's skedaddle," she said as she placed the phone back
on the receiver. She felt a quiver of anticipation run through her
body. Not only was she tired of sleeping on an air mattress on the
floor and living out of cardboard boxes, she was intrigued, despite
her scepticism, by all that the old lady had told her. <Could the
furniture really talk to her? And, if so, what would it say?>

"May I have a yoghurt?" Cody looked up at her pleadingly.

"I don't want you eating yoghurt in the car – have a banana."

"Aw mom!"

"Remember what happened last time when I had to put the brakes on
suddenly?"

"A cookie?"

"Not till after supper."

"Cheese?"

"If you're quick. I want to leave right now."

Cody hurriedly cut a couple of slices of cheddar while Elana got on
her jacket. They hopped into the car and did up their seat belts
then, as she started the engine and put the car into gear Cody
handed her a piece. "This one's for you."

"Thanks, hon! Making sure your mom doesn't starve?"

He grinned and bit into his slice. As they drove past the stables
Elana didn't miss how he craned his neck the whole way by. Was he
looking at the horses or looking for someone in particular? She
didn't want to ask him, but felt a tightening in her heart.

At Headquarters Road they turned left, instead of right as they
usually did, and then took the next left. The road wound through
farmland and crossed over the Tsolum River, the grey water spreading
widely over a rocky bed. After a sharp bend, Elana started checking
the addresses and then turned up a narrow driveway that led to an
old farmhouse. A man was waiting on the front porch.

"It's just down in the barn," he called out as he walked over to
meet them.

He chatted amiably as he led the way behind the house and past the
chicken run. "The stuff was my sister's, but she's moved into a
small apartment and can't keep it. She's had it for about fifteen
years – bought it at an auction. I don't know much about antiques
and things, but it's old and a little beat up. The lady from the
store told me it was just what you're looking for."

"I hope so," said Elana, smiling.

"I hope so too," said Mr Armitage. "I need to put my tractor away
for the winter. If you don't take it I'll just break it up for
firewood." He threw open the barn doors. "Light's not much good in
here, but . . ."

Elana slowly walked up to the furniture. The oak was warm and
golden, and even through the dust and smatterings of straw and the
dim light, it glowed. There was a sleigh bed, dismantled, a tallboy,
and a wardrobe with a mirror that was spotted with age. String was
tied through the holes in one of the drawers in place of handles,
and the nicks and dents of time were plainly visible in the wood.
She opened the wardrobe and metal hangers rattled, light filtered
through from a crack in the backing, the door hung a little crooked
on its hinges.

"You were right – no fur coats," said Cody.

The drawer underneath pulled out part way unevenly and then stuck.
Elana had to jiggle it to push it back in again. She ran her hand up
the smooth curves of the side, over the simple carving that arched
above the mirror – twisted vines and . . . she looked closer. In the
dimness she could just make out a bird in flight. The headboard had
a similar design, though a portion of it was completely missing; the
footboard and tallboy only had a knot of leaves.

"It's sorta worse for wear," the man said apologetically.

"No," said Elana. "It's incredible. It's beautiful. More than I ever
imagined." And it did speak to her, though not in words. It just
made her feel comforted, somehow, and it seemed right that it should
be sitting in the barn waiting only for her.

"The whole side of the dresser is warped," he said, "and none of the
drawers run smooth, but my sister liked it."

"Can I give you a check?" asked Elana. "Or should I come by later
with cash? I'll try to get a friend with a truck to pick the
furniture up as soon as I can. Please don't sell it to anyone else."

"Just as long as I can get my tractor in here by next weekend," he
said with a laugh.

Elana drove back down the driveway feeling elated and Cody chattered
happily – the furniture already gone from his mind, he talked about
the chickens and the ducks, and the goat that had come up to him in
the yard and nudged its stubby little horns against his hip.

~

As she walked through the pottery booth, Elana sighed. She returned
to Joy who was folding up shawls and hangings and putting them into
boxes.

"It's gone."

"What's gone?" asked Joy as she closed the box.

Elana sat on the floor and leaned against the hallstand. "The
pottery bowl. It was so beautiful. But I couldn't afford it. I
thought if I waited till the last day I could ask if the potter
would give me a deal on it."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm sure I could have traded something for
it."

"Then I would just owe you, but thanks, sweetie." Elana leaned her
head back and closed her eyes. "Did you see it? It was a shallow
bowl – very fine – done in a dark green glaze with pink crackling,
and flashes of gold and charcoal. I loved the feel of it – the
balance – it was serene." She heard steps and opened her eyes to see
Darien Stewart looking at her thoughtfully. She jumped up and began
folding the screens. <What is his problem?>

Carl gave Joy a hug. "We're here to help," he said. "Can't believe
it, but I've roped Darien in."

"I've got my truck," said Darien. "What do you want to load first?"

Joy began organising the men while Elana looked around for Cody –
but he'd already noticed Mr Stewart and had run over to talk to him.
Elana hefted a box up and headed for the door.

~

Dennis always seemed to be available when Elana needed him. On
Monday he'd gone to the farm and picked up her furniture while she'd
driven into Courtenay to the mattress shop to buy a new mattress for
her bed. It was a double bed, but Elana had no need for anything as
big as queen size anyway. She had the mattress delivered and that
night everything was set up in her room. All that was missing was
the dark green and russet carpet – but it existed in her imagination
and, who knows, if she had a good season the coming year, it could
eventually become a reality too.

She'd cleaned the old oak and oiled it. Her room still smelled of
oranges. Her clothes were finally out of boxes and folded in the
drawers and hanging in the wardrobe. It was a completely different
feeling to have big, sturdy furniture in her room and everything
squared away. She lay on her faded yellow quilt and rubbed her hand
along the wood of the headboard, ran her fingers over the carving.
Half of the twining vine was gone, and one of the bird's wings, but
it still flew. Elana smiled. She leaned back and relished at the
comfort of a real bed again after all those months.

Cody came running in and jumped up beside her. He began to bounce.

"Hey, not so wild, tiger. I don't want the bed to break when I just
got it."

"Can I sleep here with you tonight?"

"Sure thing, as long as you promise not to be a wiggle worm."

He tried to be very still. "Would you read to me?"

"How about you go wash up, get into your jammies, and choose a book?"

"Yes!" he cried and ran off to get ready for bed.

Elana plumped up her pillows and put one behind her back. As she
waited for Cody, fleetingly she wondered about the vision of the
little girl the old woman had seen on the bed with her. Was her hair
straight, or curly? Did she have laughing eyes? What was her name?
And then she shook her head at herself for being so silly as to take
something like that seriously. There was just Cody and herself, and
she was completely happy with it that way. When he arrived with the
book she held out her arms to him and he snuggled up next to her.
She pulled the quilt up high around them both and then opened the
book and began to read.

~

"Thanks for helping out yesterday, old man," said Carl.

"You've already thanked me," said Darien as he sat at his
desk. "What's really on your mind?"

Carl picked up a pen and twirled it around. "So, what do you think
of Joy now that you've met her a couple of times?"

"I told you last Friday that she's very beautiful."

"But I'm asking about what you think of <her>, not your impression
of what she looks like."

"It's hard to judge someone on such a short acquaintance," said
Darien carefully. "I think she's talented – her weaving is well
crafted and she's got a good colour sense. Look – I bought a
blanket." He pointed to the armchair in the corner of his study
where a thick, multi-coloured blanket was lying.

Carl smiled. "She's amazing isn't she?" He threw the pen down on the
desk, looking more relaxed. "She worked so hard for the fair, and
her stuff was all so beautiful. It sold really well too – she had
barely anything left to pack up and she's got lots of orders she has
to complete before Christmas."

"I'm happy for her," said Darien, shuffling some pages on his desk.

"Why do I still get the sense that you aren't telling me exactly
what you think?"

"Carl, you are transparent. You've gone over the deep end. I just
think you should step a couple paces back and cool it for a bit."

"What are you talking about? I love her, man!"

"That much is obvious. But here's the kicker – does she love you?"

"What are you saying? Of course she does. How could you . . .
insinuate?"

"I'm not insinuating anything. You asked for my opinion and I tried
not to give it, but you insisted. The truth is I've met Joy twice –
she's talented, she's attractive, she's quiet and sweet, but I
haven't seen anything to indicate that she likes you better than
anyone else. She smiled at me just as much as she smiled at you. She
was friendly to Lina, of all people. She was nice to her customers,
the doorman, some guy on the street who bumped into her
accidentally. You, on the other hand, barely pay attention to anyone
else but her. I can't even have an intelligent conversation with you
anymore."

Carl picked up a book and banged it down on the desk. "So – now
you're saying that I'm a fool? That she's just stringing me along
for my money?"

"I didn't say that – you did."

"Well, actually Lina did," said Carl, kicking the leg of the
desk. "But it's what you're thinking."

"What I'm thinking and what I'm saying is the same thing. You should
back off. Take a breath. Change your perspective. You're obsessing
and you can't think clearly."

"I don't think you know what you're talking about!" yelled Carl, and
he pulled the door open with a jerk. He stood in the doorway for a
minute and looked like he was going to say something else, but then
he just strode through and slammed the door behind him.

All the pictures on the wall rattled. Darien got up to straighten a
few and then sat down at his desk again. Wiggled the mouse to wake
his computer. His story was there on the screen and he reread the
last couple of paragraphs to try to get back into the feel of the
scene he was writing. But thoughts kept obtruding.

He stood up and walked around the room, tried to calm his ideas,
channel them. But his mind kept returning to Carl. He didn't want
Carl hurt – the guy was just too vulnerable. And Joy – well, she was
difficult to read. Behind her open appearance he sensed hidden
reserve. As if you could get only so close and no further, and this
is what worried him where Carl was concerned. When Carl fell in love
he held nothing back. He'd seen Carl in love before and he'd been
there to pick up the pieces afterward – when Carl had been tossed
aside. He didn't want to have to do it again – see the pain in his
friend's eyes that could almost cut you it was so sharp. He didn't
want Carl to have to experience that bitter, yawning emptiness – the
misery – the sorrow.

He didn't know if he was ready to believe in Joy – but dammit, he
hadn't wanted to tell Carl yet. It was too soon – Carl was moving
too quickly. And now he'd alienated him. It didn't help that Lina
had been saying baseless, vindictive things about the girl. Not for
a minute did he think that Joy was after Carl's money.

And what worried him more than anything else was that Carl was
obsessed and might act without thinking. Darien understood
obsession – but he also had acres of self control. He could stop
himself before he did something totally stupid. Could Carl?

Darien's thoughts slid past Carl to his own obsession. Back to the
craft fair the day before. She'd been there, lying against that
antique furniture – her eyes closed – looking so much like Lanea
that Darien had begun to wonder whether he was finally losing his
grip on where reality ended and fantasy began, or was it where
fantasy ended and reality began? Her voice had been so wistful – so
full of longing. And she'd described something that he knew very
well.

He walked over to a table by the window that looked out over the
trees that bounded his property, and through those trees to the
greenhouses. On that table a bowl was placed. He picked it up and
weighed it in his hands – it was light, fine, balanced: serene. That
was a good word for it – she'd described it perfectly. His hand ran
over the soft inward curve of the bowl, felt the smoothness of the
green, the rough pink crackling, the satin feel of the gold, and the
dusty texture of the drifts of charcoal. Whose bowl was it? Where
did it really belong? He gently put it back and then seated himself
in front of the computer again. He was ready. Words were piling up
against each other, pushing, fighting for escape. Wanting to be
placed just so – where they echoed off one another and resonated
with story.

To be continued...