Secret Garden (20 page)

“I do, sir,” Paul said crisply.

“No time off?”

“No, sir.” A frostier tone. “Since the laird and lady are away, I have volunteered to stay at the castle with Rhiannon for the duration.”

“Good to know,” Colin said, nodding. “What are your preparations for the gathering on Saturday?”

Paul stiffened. He darted a glance toward the old-fashioned telephone on the wall.

“You don’t have to call Malcolm on me.” Colin smiled at him. “I’m asking because I’ll be helping Rhiannon at the gathering. She wants to, uh, do whatever it is her mother usually does for the hosting duties. I want to be prepared.”

Paul blinked, taken aback. Definitely, a crack appeared in his professional butler’s composure. “I’ll speak to Rhiannon about it.”

“Great. Just let me know whatever you need help with.”

Paul cleared his throat. “Sir, is there anything else?”

“Yes. Call me Colin.”

“Very well.” Paul swallowed, as if the word didn’t come out easily. “Colin.”

Colin opened his backpack and took out the plate that had held the cupcakes Rhiannon had made for Nana. “I’m returning this from my grandmother.”

“Ah. Yes. Thank you, Colin.”

Colin’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He’d left a message with the head pro at Kildrammond Golf Club—hopefully this was him.

Colin pulled out his phone and popped the backpack over his shoulder. “Great to see you, Paul. We’ll talk tomorrow night. I’m going to stop by after my workout, just so you know.”

Paul opened his mouth and closed it. He seemed confused.

Colin gave him another smile. “I’ll go out the back way, if you don’t mind. It’s a shorter walk back to the cottage.”

“Very good, sir.
Colin
,” he corrected himself.

Outside in the walkway, Colin paused to check his texts. The incoming message he’d heard had come from Leonard, his accountant back in Texas.

We’ve lost the Dry-line clothing endorsement. What do you want to do?

Colin closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. Okay, so he’d known this might happen. How he dealt with it was what mattered most.

Colin sat on the bench nearby and phoned his accountant. “Hi, Leonard,” he said when the man picked up, “I’m calling from Scotland. I got your text.”

“I’m sorry to forward the news to you at this difficult time,” Leonard said in a somber tone.

Colin had forgotten that everybody at home still assumed he was dealing with death and a funeral. “It’s all right. Thank you for your concern,” he said quietly. “Listen, I’ve got news. I’m staying here for another week to prepare for the New York Cup. Mack is headed home though, so don’t be alarmed if you see him at the club without me. Everything else is proceeding as planned. And don’t worry about Dry-line. Send them a standard thank-you letter from me. Update the website—take down the logo. If you get any press or communication of note from the website, let me know, and we’ll handle it as it comes. I’ll check in every day that I’m gone, at about this time. How does that sound?”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Uh... That sounds very good.” Leonard had a note of surprise in his voice.

Get used to it,
Colin thought. “Anything else I need to know?” he asked.

“Uh, I’ll need your signature on a financial document.”

“What for?”

Another uncomfortable pause. “We need to tap in to the trust that I set up for you.”

“For?”

“Everyday expenses.”

That’s bad
. Colin stood and paced for a moment. “Okay,” he said calmly. “Email me the financial spreadsheets you’ve been keeping for me. You can overnight the document I need to sign care of a golf club here. I’ll text that address to you.”

Another silence.

“Leonard, are you there?”

“Yes, Colin. Sorry, I’m just surprised that you’re taking an interest in the numbers.” Colin would bet that Leonard wore a smile as he spoke. “I’ll get right on those items for you.”

“Great. And if Daisie Lee contacts you at all, please send her to me. In fact, I’m going to call her right now.”

“Colin, she’s asking about the inheritance you’re due to receive.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” he said quietly. “I’ll handle it.”

They said their goodbyes, and Colin hung up the phone, still pacing.

Oh, Mom,
he thought. This wasn’t going to be an easy phone call to make, but he had to do it.

Facing Rhiannon’s yew maze, he punched in the number.

“Colin!” his mother said. “How was the funeral?”

“Fine,” he said shortly, not wanting to get into any of that right now.

“How are your grandparents?” Her tone was biting.

“They’re fine, too,” he said. Because really, this was a negative topic with his mom, and his relationship with them wasn’t her concern. “I’m just checking in to let you know that I’m good, and that I love you.”

She paused. He didn’t usually tell her outright that he loved her. Usually, he made light of things. Made her laugh. Told her funny stories.

“Were any of Dougie’s friends at the funeral? Did the new wife come?”

“No.” Colin refused to take the bait. “When I get home, we’ll talk more. For now, I’m just checking in to let you know that I’m okay. I’ll be away for a couple weeks training. If you need anything, I’m reachable by phone. You don’t need to call Leonard.”

“Do you want me to drive over and check on your mail? The real estate tax bills came this week. Mine was in the mail box yesterday. I’m going to go down to city hall and—”

“Mom,” he said patiently, “you don’t need to worry about money anymore. Your house is paid for free and clear, and you won’t be evicted. I’m taking care of it.”

“But there are expenses, Colin. Did you talk to the Sages about a sponsorship?”

“I don’t need a sponsorship from the Sage family,” he said as clearly as he could.
I’m going to win a purse at the New York Cup.

“So you got the inheritance, then? What did the lawyers say?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” he said firmly. “I’m on the road right now and working with some swing coaches, getting ready for the tournament next week.” He phrased it that way because he knew she was on board with that goal.

“That’s...wonderful.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about me. I just need you to sit back and let go so I can focus on my job. It’s do-or-die time for me. I can’t be disturbed. Do you understand?”

She sighed. “I know. You’re right. I just...worry.”

“Please don’t. It shows you have no faith in me,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed again. “I love you, baby.”

To her, he would always be her baby, no matter what his age. That was fine, but he had boundaries he needed to strengthen with her. “We’ll talk again in a week.”

“Can’t you keep in touch more often than that?”

“No, and it’s not personal.” He paused. “If there’s a real emergency, then do call me. Otherwise I need to concentrate.”

He hung up and turned, only to see Paul standing there, Molly on leash sitting quietly by his side, her tongue hanging out.

“Hi,” Colin said. How much had Paul heard? “Can I help you with something?”

“No, sir.” Paul bent over and unhooked the leash from Molly’s collar. The golden retriever took that as an okay to bound over to Colin, leaping up at him, her front paws against his chest.

“Whoa there,” Colin said, laughing.

But when he glanced up, he caught Paul looking at him strangely.

Once Molly calmed down and was back beside Paul, Colin wiped off his hands and picked up his backpack. “Have a good walk, you two,” he said to Paul. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He couldn’t help feeling that he was in a fight for his life, carving out the space that was his.

CHAPTER TEN

O
VER THE NEXT
few days, heeding her brother’s advice to be careful, Rhiannon read everything she could find online about Colin. She found no gossip about his love life, or wild party behavior off the fairways, and secretly that pleased her.

What she did see were sports columns about his shaky-of-late golf career, just as Malcolm had warned her.

But Colin had been up front with her about that, so she wasn’t suspicious about him the way Malcolm was. If anything, it made her more sympathetic to helping Colin with his goals—especially since he was encouraging hers, as well.

He stopped by, once or twice per day, though most of his time was taken up with training. He seemed determined to turn around his career himself—laying out an extensive practice schedule and plan for each day.

Always polite and cheery, perhaps as a courtesy, he checked in with her and kept her informed of his goings-on. And some pieces of his life, she was happily included in.

After having coffee with her and Paul and then taking a morning walk over the grounds, he would train at Jessie’s golf club. During his lunch hour, his routine was to eat at a small, local restaurant, before he spent the rest of the afternoon on fitness exercises—running, weights and stretching. He usually shared dinner with Jessie and Jamie in the evenings—though once with her—and then would go back to the practice range while it was still light outside.

She had the inkling it was the most Colin had buckled down and applied himself in a while. He seemed to be enjoying it. From what he’d told her, the golf professionals he worked with treated him well. Rhiannon had even become acquainted with one of them—McGuff, the man who ran the pro shop at the club. Twice, Colin had left his phone on the table while they ate lunch, and she and McGuff had video-chatted over the internet connection. A huge step for her.

Today when Colin phoned her during his lunch break, he’d just finished sharing a meal with Jessie. Leaning against his rental car, he dipped the phone outward so she could see a ridge of spectacular scenery. Rhiannon was particularly keen on the loch view, given that their estate had no water frontage.

“What do you think?” Colin asked, turning the phone back toward himself. He wore his golf clothes, a collared shirt and short sleeves that showed his tanned muscles.

I think you look beautiful.
Swallowing hard, she glanced away from him. Sometimes it bothered her that Colin wasn’t interested in her in that way anymore. It was sad, but he’d made it clear, and she didn’t know what to do about it. He seemed determined to remain platonic friends, strictly at arms’ length.

“What are you looking at?” Colin asked. “Is someone there with you?”

“Oh, no.” She gazed back into the phone, carefully smiling at him, keeping her voice light so as not to embarrass herself. “Did I tell you I’ve been painting Colin the cat today?”

“Really?” Colin’s eyes widened. But then he remembered himself and gave her a cheery smile. “Is my namesake getting the portrait treatment?”

“He’s resisting it,” she said lightly. “The wee beastie keeps turning his head away from me and showing his bottom instead. I’ve tried bribing him with cream, but apparently it’s not fresh enough.”

Colin laughed. “Is that what he told you?” he teased.

“Of course,” she teased back. “Let me walk over and you can hear him squawking about it yourself.”

Rhiannon let her phone drop to her hip as she walked back to her garden. Beneath her own cheery surface, her spirits drooped.

Yet again, she and Colin were ignoring that proverbial elephant-in-the-room. Their conversation was always easy now, optimistic and pleasant, but never reaching the depths of honesty they’d once enjoyed. She wasn’t surprised—she’d let Colin down. And even if he did decide to trust her again, she knew he could never promise to commit to visiting her beyond once or twice a year at best.

This surface cheeriness was the closest they could come to a real relationship.

She hated that.

Trying not to cry, she opened the gate and stood in her garden. Her secret garden. Only three other people—her parents and Paul—knew about it. Yet even they didn’t know everything that it was to her.

Colin certainly didn’t need to know the significance of her location. Exhaling a clearing breath, she pointed her phone toward her easel, set up under the tree in the corner, her palette and paints on a table beside it. She’d placed the cat’s pedestal beside a wild catmint plant that Colin particularly enjoyed and had poured some cream on his favorite china plate.

Rhiannon pointed her phone camera at Colin the cat and his private bliss. No panoramic shots of her garden. “As you can see, my cat is spoiled rotten.”

“You’re painting outside?” Colin asked. “Where? I don’t remember that tree.”

Because he’d never been back here, not even when they’d been young. Her locked, walled-off garden was secret—in later years she’d found it, explored it, built it back up from ancient ruins and encroaching heather.

“We’re behind my art studio,” she hedged.

“I can’t visualize where you are. Will you show me tonight?”

She dragged her bare toe in the grass. She was thinking of a way to tactfully tell him no, when on the screen, she saw Colin’s face turn away. Jessie’s voice was muffled in the background, and it appeared to have distracted him.

When he turned back to Rhiannon, he looked bothered. “Excuse me,” he said.

He fidgeted with the buttons on the phone, and the picture Rhiannon was seeing dipped sideways, dropping to a view that showed the side of Colin’s trouser leg and the door of his rental car.

If he thought he’d muted the phone in addition to blocking her view, then he was wrong, because Rhiannon could clearly hear their conversation.

“That was my father who called you just now, wasn’t it?” Colin was asking.

Jessie made a sympathetic cluck. “He isn’t able to talk to you yet, but I’ll work on him, dear.”

“I’m fine without talking to him,” Colin said tersely. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know I don’t have to worry about you. You were a fine, braw wee lad, and now you’ve grown into a fine, braw man.”

“Then why don’t we just leave it alone? I don’t care that he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

But even Rhiannon, muffled as the conversation was, heard the pain in Colin’s voice. She imagined the crushed expression in his eyes.