“That’s my new name,” she told Boone evenly. Leslie had been calling her that all day, using it as almost an affectionate term. Win hardly knew what to make of it.
She wasn’t sure what to make of Leslie at all. The young woman was a powerhouse of energy, chattering incessantly, moving quickly, potting more plants per minute than either she or Boone could, her dexterous fingers never seeming to damage a leaf on a plant.
“Suits you,” Boone said after a moment.
Win nearly smiled. At least Boone hadn’t forced her to leave the greenhouse, like she thought he might when Angus had refused to join them at the large table. The camera crew had been making the most of it before he arrived, focusing on the distance between Angus and Leslie.
What a mess this all was. She’d hoped it would be so simple, that she could return to Base Camp, fling herself into Angus’s arms and pick up where they’d left off. They’d almost managed it, but then things had gotten a whole lot more complicated.
She needed to remember Angus’s initial reaction to her when she’d walked into Greg and Renata’s wedding. The way he’d swept her into his arms, held on to her like he never wanted to let go and kissed her with all the passion she’d remembered from the summer.
He wanted her just as much as she wanted him, even though he’d been badly hurt by what she’d done. They would make it through Leslie’s tenure here as long as she was patient.
“You’re from San Mateo, right? San Mateo’s got a lot of rich people, doesn’t it?” Leslie was asking when Win tuned in to the conversation again. “We were never rich. Working class, that’s us Bakers. And we’re proud of it, you know? Not that I’m not proud of my degree. First one in the family to go to college,” she announced. “My mom and dad were over the moon when I graduated. Still, work is in my blood, and work is what I intend to do for the rest of my life. I was in San Mateo once. I saw those women, the ones shopping and eating out and getting their nails done. I thought, how can you appreciate all that if you haven’t worked for it?”
She could be describing Vienna—and herself, Win thought, before she’d arrived at Base Camp.
Leslie was right; work was better. Win couldn’t believe how much she’d missed these simple tasks while she was away. Each baby plant called forth a certain kind of tenderness in her. She found herself mentally beaming positive affirmations at them—silently, of course, although in the past when she’d worked alone she’d whispered them out loud. You’re going to grow big and strong. You’re such a beautiful plant. You’re wonderful, even if you’re growing a little crooked. Everything’s going to be all right.
At night she found herself murmuring similar things to her growing belly.
A balance of work and play was best of course. Good work, enough leisure, a roof over your head, a respite from constant worry. That was all a person needed, wasn’t it?
The rich worried a lot more than Leslie might think, that was for sure. Her father worried he’d never be governor—or president. The Dunlevys worried the market might drop and they’d be forced to sell assets. They all worried about their taxes, their huge mortgage payments, whether people knew how wealthy they were, whether criminals knew how wealthy they were… the list went on and on.
“… like the way you’ve used renewable energy to power these greenhouses, Angus,” Leslie was saying. “You’re smart, you know that?”
Angus looked up from his plants, clearly surprised—and a little gratified, although Win knew it wasn’t Angus who’d set up the power system. She was pretty sure Leslie’s chatter had been getting to him up until now. The more she talked, the higher his shoulders had risen, but Win could see the woman’s praise had struck him the way she’d meant it to.
Had she underestimated Leslie?
Maybe she should pay more attention.
“Angus is very intelligent,” she heard herself say. “He learned gardening from his grandfather back in Scotland and got interested in heating greenhouses through alternative energy because of the climate there. Jericho and Greg helped him set things up.”
Angus glanced her way. An acknowledgement that she knew his past.
Leslie caught the look and bit her lip. “Rival, you’re wily, but I’m wily, too. And tenacious.”
“That’s a big word for a little girl,” Win quipped.
Hell. Had she just said that? She had, judging by Angus’s and Boone’s raised eyebrows and the color suffusing Leslie’s cheeks. What a catty remark. Something Vienna might say.
“Did I use tenacious wrong?” Leslie asked, chastened.
“No, you didn’t.” Angus jumped to defend her, finally coming to join them. “You used it exactly right, because you’re smart, too.”
“Thanks.” Leslie lit up and flashed a bright smile at Angus. Win’s heart constricted. She wanted to apologize, but she had the feeling that would only make things worse. Instead, she bent to the task at hand, repotting plants as fast as she could until she snapped one in half in her hurry.
“Butterfingers, rival,” Leslie said. “You really botched that one.”
Yeah, she had.
She’d botched it big time.
Win lifted her skirts, edged past the others and got out of the greenhouse as fast as she could.
Chapter Eight
‡
When Avery opened the greenhouse door and said, “Leslie—come on. I’m going to take you to Alice Reed’s house to get you set up with some dresses,” Angus was more relieved than he could say.
The minutes since Win had left so precipitously had dragged by at the pace of a snail crawling through molasses. Despite the instinct to protect Leslie from Win’s biting joke, that was the extent of his connection to her, and he’d hurt Win as much as she’d hurt Leslie. That hadn’t slowed Leslie down, however. Since Win’s departure, she’d talked and talked and talked, until even Boone had excused
