As Love Blooms Read online

  © 2015 by Lorna Seilstad

  Published by Revell

  a division of Baker Publishing Group

  P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

  www.revellbooks.com

  Ebook edition created 2015

  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—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-2328-9

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Published in association with Books & Such Literary Agency, 52 Mission Circle, Suite 122, PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 94509-7953.

  To Parker, Caroline, and Emma.

  If I had a flower for every time you’ve each made me laugh or smile, I’d have a garden to walk in forever.

  Watching the three of you grow to love the Lord has been my greatest joy.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Books by Lorna Seilstad

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  As ye have therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in him: rooted and built up in him, and stablished in the faith.

  Colossians 2:6–7

  1

  MAY 12, 1913

  SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA

  “Flowers have an expression of countenance.” Tessa Gregory whispered the words she’d once read. She studied the blooms in the Como Park planter and shook her head. If the author was correct, then these pansies were suffering from a severe case of melancholy.

  Why hadn’t a gardener tended the velvety flowers after the frost the other night? If the shriveled, damaged blooms weren’t removed, fungus might grow on them and spread to the rest of the healthy flowers. Should she help the poor things or simply keep going?

  They seemed to cry out to her, but it wasn’t her job to take care of the pansies.

  Not yet anyway.

  She read the sign posted with large block letters. PICKING FLOWERS IS AGAINST THE LAW. Excellent! Perhaps the staff did care about their plants.

  The colorful faces of the pansies—violet, yellow, orange, magenta, and white—winked at her, daring her to risk a few moments with them.

  She sighed, sat down on the edge of the planter, and removed her gloves. Deadheading the plants wouldn’t take long, and then she could be on her way to meeting the park superintendent.

  Humming to herself, she plucked the withered blossoms, leaned back, and examined her handiwork. How much better the array looked already!

  A shrill whistle startled her.

  “Miss! Put down the flower!”

  She whirled. Was the policeman speaking to her?

  “Now, miss.” The park officer rode his bicycle nearer, dismounted, and leaned the bicycle against the planter. He approached Tessa with a stern scowl on his face. “Miss, it’s against the law to pick flowers.” He pointed to the sign. “Do you know I can arrest you?”

  Tessa stood and held out the frazzled bloom. “For picking this? I’ll have you know I was helping the plant, not hurting it.”

  “Helping it by picking its flowers?”

  “I’m telling you the truth. I’m a horticulturist and—”

  “You might be the queen of England, but you still can’t pick the flowers. Now, move along and I’ll ignore your ordinance breach.”

  “But I’m almost finished.” She swept her arm toward the beautified planter. “See? There are only a few of the ugly blooms left.”

  His glower spoke volumes. “Keep your hands off the flowers. Understand?”

  Tessa didn’t flinch.

  The officer remained until she turned to leave. As soon as she heard the bicycle’s clatter against the planter, she spun around. Hurrying back to the flower bed, she grabbed the remaining spongy blooms as fast as her fingers could pluck them. Hands still full of the withered blooms, she stood and surveyed the tidy planter as satisfaction warmed her.

  Someone with a deep voice cleared his throat behind her.

  Slowly, she turned.

  The policeman took hold of her upper arm. “Miss, you’ll be coming with me now.”

  Inhaling, Reese King drew in the familiar scent of the freshly turned earth. He plunged the shovel back into the ground and heaved yet another load of rich dirt beside the hole. Planting this shrub was taking far too much time. He had a long list of things to do today, and if he wanted to continue to impress the Saint Paul park superintendent, Fred Nussbaumer, he’d need to finish every item.

  His father might not see Reese’s future as a gardener, but Mr. Nussbaumer seemed to. He’d even given him an area in the park in which to develop a new garden. Now if he could get done with his list, he could start designing it.

  At least he wouldn’t have to deadhead the pansies. He’d spotted a pretty young lady, with hair the color of poppies, taking on that task a few minutes ago.

  Once the hole was deep enough, he leaned against the shovel’s handle and noticed a group gathering around one of the nearby planters. What was all the commotion about?

  “Unhand me this instant!”

  Uh-oh. The pretty young lady he’d been watching deadhead his pansies attempted to pull her arm free from the police officer’s hold. This couldn’t be good.

  He dropped the shovel and rushed over. “Officer, what’s the problem?”

  “Caught this young lady picking your posies, Mr. King.”

  The fiery-haired girl fought against the officer’s grasp. “I was not picking them. Not the live ones anyway. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  “Settle down, Little Miss Polecat.” He gave her a little shake. “I’ll take care of her, Mr. King. She won’t be bothering us here again.”

  “Wait.” Reese barred his way with an outstretched arm. He glanced at the onlookers and leaned in close. “Officer, I believe we can sort this out without arresting the young lady.” He turned to the girl. “I was watching you. You were deadheading the pansies, right?”

  Her eyes widened, and for a fleeting second relief washed over her face, only to be replaced with indignation. “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain to this lout.”

  “Why, you little—” the policeman growled.

  “Officer, clearly the young woman is beside herself with fear. Perhaps she’s had too much sun.”

  “Too much sun?” she squeaked. “More like—”


  Reese silenced her with a stern look. “Why don’t you allow me to show her to the shade, and we can forget this whole unfortunate matter?”

  The officer moved his gaze from the young lady to Reese as if he were considering a life-altering decision. The girl kept her chin high, clearly unwilling to back down. After a long moment, the policeman sighed. “Are you sure you want her, Mr. King? She’s a handful.”

  “We’ll be fine. How much trouble could one young lady be?”

  The park officer released her. “All right. She’s all yours.”

  Reese met her gaze, and her eyebrows arched over twinkling hazel eyes. Was she daring him?

  Good grief. What had he gotten himself into?

  2

  Tessa held out the withered blossoms. “I believe these belong to you.” Mr. King extended his hand, and she deposited the blooms. “You really ought to be ashamed of yourself for not tending to those poor beleaguered pansies. Hadn’t you noticed them?”

  Mr. King tossed the handful of flowers into a trash can. “Deadheading the pansies was on my list of things to do today, Miss . . .”

  “Tessa Gregory.” She tugged on her gloves. “And thank you for your assistance. Now, if you’ll kindly direct me to the office of the park superintendent, I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’m off to see Mr. Nussbaumer myself. You can walk with me.” He motioned toward the path, and the two of them fell in step together. Neither spoke for the first few minutes, but finally Mr. King broke the awkward silence. “Why do you want to speak to our park superintendent?”

  “I’m seeking a position.”

  “I don’t think you’ll find Mr. Nussbaumer in need of a stenographer. He does all the record keeping himself.”

  Tessa glanced in the young man’s direction and saw he was serious. “An office girl? I realize we’ve only known each other a short time, but do I seem like the kind of person who’d be content filing papers?”

  Mr. King chuckled. “Not really.”

  “That’s certainly correct.” The wind whipped at the rolled-up garden prints she carried, and she tucked them under her arm. “I’m a horticulturist. I’ve spent the last two years at the University of Minnesota studying horticulture, and I’d like to secure a position as a gardener.”

  His eyes widened. “From Fred Nussbaumer?”

  “Yes, he has a stellar reputation.”

  “Indeed, but do you know anything else about the man?” He slowed as they neared a brick building.

  “Like?”

  “He’s German, he’s brilliant, and he works harder than two men on any given day.”

  “Are you trying to scare me off?”

  Mr. King met her gaze and held it. “Not in the least, but I don’t want you to get your hopes up. He’s a great man—a great opinionated man.”

  “Once he sees my ideas, I’m sure we’ll get along famously.”

  “He may never look at your plans.” Mr. King held the door to the small building. “But I wish you Godspeed, Miss Gregory.”

  After introducing herself, Tessa flashed Mr. Nussbaumer a broad smile and glanced around his office. Open volumes bearing sketches of plants littered one table in the corner. Another table bore several pots beneath a window, and she recognized the plants they held—milkwort, curled mallow, wild peppergrass, rock cress, and columbine.

  Mr. Nussbaumer motioned her to a chair. “What can I do for you, Miss Gregory?”

  “I’d like to speak to you about securing a position at one of Saint Paul’s parks.” She laid her rolled-up plans in her lap and took a steadying breath. “I would be happy to work at any of them, but I must admit a particular fondness for this one, Como Park. It’s truly magnificent, and I could learn a great deal by working here.”

  The man’s bushy eyebrows drew close. “Working here in what way?”

  “As a gardener, of course. I studied horticulture in college, so I’m well qualified. I’ve had classes in fruit and vegetable growing, greenhouse practices, plant breeding, floriculture, systemic pomology, ornamental horticulture, and my favorite—landscape gardening.”

  The man threw himself back in his chair and laughed. “You want to work in my gardens?” His mustache wiggled as he spoke. “The work here is man’s work. There is a great deal of lifting and digging in the dirt. You are a fine lady. You can’t be serious.”

  “But I am serious.”

  His eyes sparkled with merriment. “I wouldn’t have you here as a flower girl, Miss Gregory, let alone a gardener. Surely you can find things to keep you busy at one of the many ladies’ flower clubs.”

  Disappointment pricked her heart and welled inside her. “Mr. Nussbaumer, I want to design gardens. If you’ll only take a look at my plans . . .” She held out her papers.

  Mr. Nussbaumer waved them away. “I’m sure you are a lovely young woman. Go design your own garden in your backyard. Perhaps it will keep you entertained until you find a young man to marry you, ja?”

  “Entertained?” Her voice rose. She had to make him understand. “Gardening is not a hobby for me. I take it very seriously. I want to work for you.”

  “That is not going to happen, Miss Gregory.” Although his eyes were kind, his words were firm. She’d heard her father use the same tone. “Perhaps you can be of use to the parks in some other way. We are always in need of community support. Maybe you’d be willing to speak to your lady friends about becoming patrons. We can work together to make our city beautiful.”

  The nerve of this man. First he wouldn’t take her seriously, and now he wanted her to help him secure funds?

  Don’t say anything you’ll regret.

  She forced a thin smile. “I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “Now there’s a good girl.” He picked up his pencil and opened a ledger. “Good day, Miss Gregory.”

  Reese leaned against the wall and waited for his turn to speak to Mr. Nussbaumer. If he was honest with himself, he was waiting for Miss Gregory. He’d overheard part of the conversation, and he worried about how the young woman would handle having her hopes dashed. There was something about her that made him want to help her.

  Miss Gregory shut the office door with a solid bang, then glared at him. “Mr. King, have you been eavesdropping? Did you stay here so you could gloat?”

  “N-n-no, of course not.”

  “While I appreciate your assistance in that rather unfortunate exchange this afternoon, I do not see how it gives you the right to listen to my private conversations.” She marched toward the exit.

  For all her bravado, Reese sensed the woman’s hurt and defeat. “I’m sorry Mr. Nussbaumer wouldn’t consider you.”

  Her eyes glistened. Would she cry? Instead, she lifted her chin, drawing attention to the freckles dotting her nose, and squared her shoulders. “I don’t give up easily, Mr. King. I always find a way to get what I want.”

  Reese smiled and watched her leave. “I bet you do, Miss Gregory. I bet you do.”

  During the short walk from the streetcar up Summit Avenue to Aunt Sam’s mansion, Tessa rehearsed what she was going to tell her two older sisters. If she was going to make her dream come true, she’d need their help. Aunt Sam, of course, would be willing to lend a hand as well.

  The butler greeted her at the door. “Welcome home, miss.”

  “Thank you, Geoffrey. Are my sisters still here?”

  “They’re in the parlor.”

  Perfect. She’d tell them all about her unfruitful morning. They’d understand. Both had fought to get where they were today. Her oldest sister, Hannah, was an attorney, and her other sister, Charlotte, was the chef in charge of City Hospital’s kitchen. Together the three of them would come up with a plan that Mr. Nussbaumer would never see coming.

  Tessa scurried through the parlor’s double doors. Hannah, who sat in a winged chair with a tablet of paper in hand, looked up. “Oh, Tessa, we’re glad you’re home. Come join us. We want to tell you about the plan we’ve come up with.”

  Tessa too
k a seat on the divan next to Charlotte and smiled when her three-year-old niece Ellie climbed up in her lap.

  Hannah’s daughter held up her porcelain doll to Tessa’s lips. “Kiss my baby.”

  Tessa obliged and gave the doll a peck before Ellie slid off her lap. “You’ll never guess what happened this morn—”

  “What do you think about the three of us arranging an excursion to surprise Aunt Sam for her birthday?” Charlotte captured Tessa’s hand. “Wouldn’t it be fun?”

  “Yes, of course, you know I love surprises. How can I help?”

  Hannah waved her pencil in the air. “You don’t need to worry about the details. Charlotte and I can manage those. All you need to do is pitch in the day we tell her—and of course keep our secret. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Don’t treat me like a child. Of course I can keep a secret.”

  Charlotte poured Tessa a cup of tea. “We simply don’t want her to find out, and with you living here in the house with her, it might be more difficult for you to keep our surprise under wraps.”

  “I won’t let on to the trip.” Tessa dropped two lumps of sugar into her tea. “And why would we put you in charge of the details, Hannah? If you’d had your way, we’d have all been on the Titanic last year.”

  “They said the ship was unsinkable.” Hannah jotted down a note on her tablet. “I hardly think that precludes me from deciding our next venture.”

  Tessa shrugged. “Now, can I tell you about what happened to me this morning?”

  “All right.” Hannah set the tablet down on the table.

  Tessa relayed the experience with Mr. Nussbaumer, doing her best to reenact his German accent, and leaving out the part about almost being arrested. Neither of her sisters seemed to appreciate her dramatic interpretation of the events. Didn’t they realize how difficult it was to improvise a performance?

  “You weren’t honestly expecting him to welcome you with open arms, were you?” Hannah hurried to still Ellie from pounding on the piano keys. “It’s like I warned you. There are women gardeners at private estates, but I doubt if there are many working in the city parks systems.”

  “But a woman helped design the gardens at the Saint Louis World’s Fair, and there’s the City Beautiful Movement. Sure, everyone associates men with the effort to bring beauty to the cities, but we all know it’s women volunteers who’ve made the most difference. It’s simply not fair he dismissed me because I’m a woman.”