A Garden for Sarah

By Felicia Mires

Sparks fly when Sarah meets Rick at Fairview's first landscaping outlet. In a tank top and khaki shorts, with muscles rippling, it's easy to see why female customers are flocking for Rick's attention. Sarah's mother pushes her to give this more than attractive gardener a little encouragement, which is exactly why Sarah isn't the least bit interested. She has to set her well-meaning, but meddlesome, mother straight. "I am not interested in a dirty, sweaty gardener." Of course, Rick chooses that moment to appear behind Sarah. Is he insulted by her comments? If only she could explain, but how does one explain a lifetime of embarrassing, though comedic, moments with an interfering mother? When Rick asks Sarah out, she has no choice but to accept. According to Rick, it's the only way she can prove she has nothing against dirty, sweaty gardeners everywhere. Sarah agrees, and over the next few days, Rick does everything he can to sweep her off her feet. From potted plants, a hammock for her backyard, and hours on his knees planting flowers in her garden, Rick has mounted an offensive for Sarah's heart. Not only is he respectful to her parents, but his devotion to the Lord is an inspiration. Sarah wants to let go and follow her heart, but she's experienced far too much deception at the hands of men who think they know best. Why does she get the feeling Rick is hiding something? A Garden for Sarah is a Christian fiction romance of approximately one hundred eighty-six print pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Speedy Publishing LLC
• Release date: Jun 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781633833395

Felicia Mires

Felicia Mires began her writing career years ago when she became bored with what she found available in the Christian Fiction market. Hoping to entertain herself and provide inspiration to other Christians, she wrote her first novel, Diamonds are for Eden. Since that time, she has written more than 20 Christian novels (all with a bit of romance), even becoming a finalist in the ACFW competition. Along the way, she has judged multiple writing contests, edited scores of books for other writers, and discovered a wealth of fascinating Christian fiction. But, God did not create man, or woman, for books alone. Thankfully, there is relationship. Felicia has been married for over 25 years to Gene Mires, from whom she gains a plethora of hilarious and creative ideas. Felicia and Gene have three incredible children and three dogs who think they're children. Ahh, the drama...and unending plot ideas. Life is full of relationship. If you need a bit of inspiration or encouragement, try Christian Fiction by Felicia Mires.

Book preview

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A Garden for Sarah

Felicia Mires

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COPYRIGHT

First published in USA 2013

Copyright © Felicia Mires

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be circulated in writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

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For Mom...Libbie Higginbotham...

Who is not Meredith, but who does have a gift for getting to the heart of a matter. Thanks for your wisdom. I love you.

Thank you, Jesus.

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TOC>

CONTENTS

#CHAPTER1>Chapter 1

#CHAPTER2>Chapter 2

#CHAPTER3>Chapter 3

#CHAPTER4>Chapter 4

#CHAPTER5>Chapter 5

#CHAPTER6>Chapter 6

#CHAPTER7>Chapter 7

#CHAPTER8>Chapter 8

#CHAPTER9>Chapter 9

#CHAPTER10>Chapter 10

#CHAPTER11>Chapter 11

#CHAPTER12>Chapter 12

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Do you want to be right, or do you want to be reconciled? ~Kim Forman

Galatians 5:14 For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: Love your neighbor as yourself.

John 15:13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.

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CHAPTER1>

Chapter 1

Oh, look, Sarah, there's one now.

Sarah Winston's blond head rose from a perusal of the bucket of white daisies in her hand. One what, Mother?

An eligible man. See, no ring on his left hand.

Their usual topic of conversation.

Which could mean he's gay or doesn't want to get his ring dirty while he's working…and lower your voice.

Her mother might not care who heard them, but she did.

The man in question rose from the pile of fertilizer bags he'd been counting and tossed a fifty-pound bag over one shoulder as if he held nothing more than a sack of cherries.

No…on both counts. He glanced back over his shoulder, and grey eyes traveled up and down Sarah's slender frame then winked. Actually, I'm available.

He lumbered off with his burden, calf muscles rippling as he strode to the parking lot.

Sarah's mother stared after him with wide-eyed admiration. She nodded her head. Excellent hearing, too.

Mother, you're impossible.

Meredith Winston gazed back with an air of innocence before wandering down another aisle in the nursery.

The distinct aroma of jasmine wafted past, and Sarah turned to identify the soothing scent. Green and yellow balloons billowed back and forth in the breeze as she stepped over buckets of shrubbery, further evidence of the grand opening at Fairview's first discount landscaping outlet. Rows and rows of perfectly grown flora offered a multitude of possibilities for prospective customers. For weeks, advertisements and flyers had shown up all over town, and her mother had badgered Sarah about it for days.

She located the jasmine and read the tag. A climbing vine. Now, that might have possibilities. Though her mother sought to landscape an entire estate, Sarah merely desired a pleasing haven in her tiny backyard.

She searched for the 'eligible man,' hoping to remain as far from him as possible, lest her mother humiliate her further. She caught a glimpse of his tanned expanse leaning against a car, arms crossed over a wide chest clearly displayed by a black tank top as he smiled down at a petite blonde.

The blonde tilted her head on one side and rested a slender hand on his brawny arm.

He laughed at some remark, revealing even white teeth against perfectly bronzed skin. Probably the result of hours in the sun, taking care of plants...which could lead to melanoma if he didn't watch it.

Sarah whirled away to locate her mother and forget the attractive picture of the smiling man.

She found the errant parent situating pots of annuals around her feet. Her head jerked up at Sarah's approach.

What do you think? I know it's a lot of color, but I want the front entrance to create a bold effect. Did you ask that man on a date?

Those flowers are lovely. I think they'll do fine.

Good, I'll get someone to help us to the car...or maybe they deliver. You didn't answer my question.

The woman never gave up when she thought she'd seized upon a good idea, like a bulldog with a bone, a python with a mouse, a lion with a gazelle, only this time, Sarah was the gazelle.

She squared her feet and placed her hands on her hips. Can we not do this every time we go somewhere? I don't want a man. And I certainly don't need some dirty, sweaty… Her arms rose expressively.

Gardener, I believe, is the word that's escaped you, said a distinctly deep voice behind her.

Sarah glared at her mother. Some type of warning would have been nice, even polite. Was that too much to ask of a parent?

Said parent's benevolent smile rested on Sarah before turning to the eligible man.

I'm Meredith Winston. Do you deliver? My husband and I recently built a house, and we need the entire grounds landscaped. I'm afraid I need far too many plants to fit in my little car. She shamelessly batted her lashes.

Sarah pictured her mother's navy Lincoln Navigator. By no means a little car.

Not a problem. We deliver. His right hand slid out of a grey gardening glove. Richard Wingate. He shook hands then turned to Sarah.

Was he offended by her remark?

His steady regard held no rancor as he straightened his fingers and held them up for inspection. See, no dirt. And I apologize for the sweat. There's no way to avoid it in this humidity.

She took the proffered hand in a firm shake. Was it her imagination or had he hung on just a shade too long?

Sarah Winston. I didn't mean-

Sure you did. He turned his attention to her mother. If you'll come this way, you can complete an order form and set up delivery.

As they walked toward the front of the property, his voice trailed back. Do you need someone to do the planting?

How did Sarah get herself into these situations? Entirely her mother's fault. Not content to badger her at home about finding a husband, she had to debase her in public. Well, not any more. If she didn't promise never to mention eligible men again, Sarah was through going out in public with her.

She stalked back to the car, formulating possible apologies. I'm blind in one eye and didn't see you. I make regular donations to the dirty, sweaty gardeners' fund because I like dirt. I have a severe condition known as interfering mother and often lose my self-respect.

When she reached the Escalade, she realized she didn't have the keys and slumped against the side of the car.

Thank goodness, they'd arrived early that morning. Already, her sleeveless white shell clung to her back from the humidity. She dug her sandaled toe in the gravel of the parking lot while she watched other customers wander through the green foliage and colorful flowers of the nursery.

Several minutes later, her mother approached with Richard in tow. Two enormous green ferns hung from his hands.

Sarah, darling, have you ever seen such an impressive specimen?

The ferns or the man?

Meredith unlocked the back of the RV. They'll look spectacular on the columns. You know…at the front gate.

The ferns.

Sarah made a noncommittal sound and watched Richard as he placed the plants in the back. How did she apologize for calling him dirty and sweaty?

At the sound of the engine starting, she glanced around. Her mother sat in the front seat, oblivious to Sarah's discomfiture.

When Richard slammed the hatch down, Sarah stepped to the rear.

I'm sorry if you found my remarks offensive.

How would anyone take them?

That's not what I meant. I mean…they weren't directed at you personally.

No, they were meant for all the other dirty, sweaty gardeners in the world.

A wisp of hair fell over his forehead as he leaned against the car. He took his time crossing his arms across his chest. The action made Sarah very aware of his male physique. He smiled, and kind thoughts formed in her head...until he opened his mouth.

I'll make this easy for you, Sarah. Your mother said you have trouble meeting men.

She sent murderous looks to the front of the car. I do not…

He placed one immaculately clean finger over her mouth. Shh, I'm talking now...you're listening. I understand your mother cramps your style, so I'd like to give you another chance 'cause I think you're kinda cute. How 'bout I pick you up tomorrow night at six? There's a Cary Grant marathon at the theater. We could catch a quick bite beforehand, or we could just eat junk at the show…whichever you prefer.

His handsome face smiled confidently down at her. A good slap would bring him down to size, but she wasn't the type and he really hadn't done anything untoward. Considering Sarah's disparaging remarks, he was acting rather charitably.

Sarah peered through the back of the car, but her mother remained out of sight.

Did Meredith tell you I was going to that marathon?

She did.

What makes you think I'd want to go with you or that I don't already have a date?

Do you?

Sarah stared past him for several seconds, needing to maintain a small show of indifference. It was pathetic to have her mother set up dates for her.

Do I what?

I know you don't have a date, so…you wanna go with me? You owe me, you know. It will show you don't really have anything against dirty, sweaty gardeners.

All right. You can pick me up at…

I've got your address. Your mother said you'd say yes.

Will you always interrupt when I try to say something?

He grinned at her, cocking his head to the side. We'll have to see. Tomorrow, then.

She gaped after him as he loped off without a backward glance. He really did have nice…jeans.

Sarah climbed in the car beside her mother and fixed her eyes out the window while Meredith pulled into traffic.

That went well. Her mother positively glowed with satisfaction, grinning as if she'd won a lottery.

For whom?

Both of us. I got what I wanted, and you got what you wanted.

Tell me again, Mother. What is it I want?

A man, of course. She laughed. And Richard is a real man. Your father will like him.

Sarah ignored that. She ignored a lot of things her mother said. Just so I'll know…what have you told him?

Not much. You're an only child, a little spoiled, but you recognize a good thing when you see it...only it takes a while because you're cautious.

Did it occur to you that he's a total stranger and might be a maniac?

Nonsense. I'm an excellent judge of character. Didn't I tell you that Brad fellow was out for your job?

What else did you tell him? Not that...please, not that.

I had to explain your strange aversion to men, didn't I?

Sarah leaned back and closed her eyes. Of course. She sighed dramatically.

Don't be such a drama queen.

That…from the supreme empress of drama.

Minutes passed before her mother tried another tack. Didn't you think he was attractive? Did you see his arms when he picked up that bag? He must exercise.

Yeah, he'd get quite a work-out lifting cow manure all day.

I don't think that's all he does. Anyway, he's taller than you, has gorgeous grey eyes…did you notice? Her mother glanced at her and sighed. His physique is enviable. He attends church regularly. And for some strange reason, he seemed to like you even though you were most insulting. There's nothing wrong with a man that works in the dirt. At least, he won't steal your job.

Sarah let her mother prattle on. Once the tide set its course, there was no stopping it. And though she wouldn't admit it, Richard was attractive...in a rugged sort of way. She'd always been susceptible to guys with black, wavy hair and brown eyes. But those compassionate grey eyes…that had been a surprise. It gave him a…noble look.

Ridiculous. Now she's got me doing it. A noble gardener.

She tuned into her mother's one-sided dialogue.

...and that tan! He must stay outdoors all the time.

A sure way to get skin cancer.

You haven't got a romantic bone in your body.

Romance is for dewy-eyed young secretaries who don't care if the male executives are stealing her ideas in the name of love.

Her mother frowned at her. You're much too young to be a cynic.

Better a cynic than a fool.

And that was the end of that.

The following morning Sarah's phone rang early.

Mother.

Since Sarah had quit her job, she called every morning, making sure Sarah didn't become a bum.

Good morning, Mother. You know it's only seven? Not too late for a person without a job to sleep. Daddy does it all the time.

"Don't be