“When you have some plans, I want you to see this man who sometimes works for me—John McElroy. He’s a very good builder and a landscape specialist. In fact, he’s also great on skis and heads up the ski patrol. This winter I’ll talk to him about teaching the boys.”

Leigh focused an unusual amount of attention on the magazine, not responding to her mother.

“Why don’t you make my last days easier and just marry him? I think he’s stable enough to take care of you and the boys when I’m gone. He even looks a bit like Mitch.”

Leigh was silent for a long time. “What an imagination you have,” she finally said, sipping her wine and flipping the pages.

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

“Hello, John.”

He dropped a fifty-pound bag of compost on a pile of identical bags and whirled around to face her. All the anticipation and anxiety that had surrounded the thought of seeing her again seemed to drain out of him when the moment actually arrived. There she was. Beautiful as ever. Hardly aged. He was instantly self-conscious about whether he smelled of sweat and cow dung. This was not what he had planned. He’d known he would run into her at some point, but he hadn’t been able to prepare for the experience. “Leigh,” he said quietly. “Dr. Brackon.”

She half smiled when he said her name, then flinched just slightly when he used her title. “I…ah…didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry. I’m—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just surprised. It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been back a couple of weeks. I’m living with my mother for now, maybe for good. She needs me, and I need a new kind of lifestyle. Jess…my mom…she has some kind of—”

“She told me.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “She said she has a heart problem and was forcing you home.”

“She didn’t actually have to force me. I was ready to come. I wanted to come. I’ve been planning to for years. I just kept putting it off.”

“This can’t make your husband very—”

“Didn’t she tell you about Max? Oh, my… I divorced him a long time ago and Max…well, he passed away about six months ago. He was sixty, Mom’s age… Far too young.”

“I didn’t know,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I thought you’d know,” she said in that slightly baffled, absentminded way of hers.