night air. She would have liked to have lit a cigarette off of it, like actors did in the movies, but she didn’t dare get much closer to the inferno she had created. The burn pit was large and deep, but she wasn’t entirely sure that it had been safe to pile it so high, she thought, eyeing the crackling mess with caution and taking yet another step back. Oh well, she finally shrugged, there weren’t any neighbors close enough to be affected if things got out of control, and the house was insured, though the thought of losing all of her mama’s things made her stomach clench. So she waited on the outskirts of the yard, watching shadows and branches twist and weave in the orange glow cast by the fire that was still going strong. When the pile had burned down far enough to be level with the brick wall of the pit, Paige took the garden hose off the circular rack that was mounted to the side of the house, turned on the spigot and sprayed the fire until even the enormous cloud of white smoke had dissipated into the black night.
She didn’t bother to wind the hose up and properly put it away, like Denmari had always insisted on; instead she simply turned off the water, tossed it into the grass and took off across the yard for a walk through the garden, uncaring of the late hour and the dark.
She was always mindful of her surroundings, no matter what the hour. After all, she was a modern woman; she read the newspapers and was well aware of the kind of violence that could befall a woman, especially a woman alone on the street.
Usually she kept to the grounds that surrounded the estate if the moon was up by the time she made her way out the wide front door of the house. And why not? The property was undeniably beautiful. It would never be a lush paradise , being as mostly pine and sturdy flowers and vegetation graced the stone walkways that meandered through more than fifteen acres of land. She used to think of the space as her own mountain getaway, even though they weren’t technically 'next to' any mountains.
Her fingers trailed along the maze-like hedges that made up the garden and every so often she stopped to sniff at the white bell shaped blooms that popped out here and there. When her mother had been alive, she had tended the garden by herself, devoting long hard hours to the design and care and upkeep of the vast space. The place had been a collaboration between Layna Frey and her first husband Christopher, Paige's real father. It still amazed her, even after all these years, that such a huge, gorgeous place was not only the dream but the product of two people and two people alone.
In recent years, she reflected with only a trace of regret, professional gardeners tended to the trees and bushes and shrubs and flowers. As much as Paige would have loved to carry on her mother’s fine tradition, she had the polar opposite of a 'green thumb'.
No, her thumb was black as coal and she was sure that any plants left in her care wouldn’t have ever lived to tell the tale. There was no denying it-things tended to shrivel and wilt and die around her. Had she been left to tend her mother’s beautiful garden, the entire mass of green life that surrounded her would have probably committed plant suicide within a month.
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
“God!” Paige whirled to face Erik, one hand still clutching her galloping heart. “You scared me; did you have to sneak up on me like that?”
“Who’s sneaking?” He asked with an amused tilt to his head.
“I guess maybe I wasn’t paying attention.” She shrugged, not really all that concerned with her momentary lapse in vigilance.
“I’d say that’s understandable,” He replied, falling into step beside her. “Are you headed back to the house?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I have to be up and moving pretty early tomorrow. A little
She didn’t bother to wind the hose up and properly put it away, like Denmari had always insisted on; instead she simply turned off the water, tossed it into the grass and took off across the yard for a walk through the garden, uncaring of the late hour and the dark.
She was always mindful of her surroundings, no matter what the hour. After all, she was a modern woman; she read the newspapers and was well aware of the kind of violence that could befall a woman, especially a woman alone on the street.
Usually she kept to the grounds that surrounded the estate if the moon was up by the time she made her way out the wide front door of the house. And why not? The property was undeniably beautiful. It would never be a lush paradise , being as mostly pine and sturdy flowers and vegetation graced the stone walkways that meandered through more than fifteen acres of land. She used to think of the space as her own mountain getaway, even though they weren’t technically 'next to' any mountains.
Her fingers trailed along the maze-like hedges that made up the garden and every so often she stopped to sniff at the white bell shaped blooms that popped out here and there. When her mother had been alive, she had tended the garden by herself, devoting long hard hours to the design and care and upkeep of the vast space. The place had been a collaboration between Layna Frey and her first husband Christopher, Paige's real father. It still amazed her, even after all these years, that such a huge, gorgeous place was not only the dream but the product of two people and two people alone.
In recent years, she reflected with only a trace of regret, professional gardeners tended to the trees and bushes and shrubs and flowers. As much as Paige would have loved to carry on her mother’s fine tradition, she had the polar opposite of a 'green thumb'.
No, her thumb was black as coal and she was sure that any plants left in her care wouldn’t have ever lived to tell the tale. There was no denying it-things tended to shrivel and wilt and die around her. Had she been left to tend her mother’s beautiful garden, the entire mass of green life that surrounded her would have probably committed plant suicide within a month.
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
“God!” Paige whirled to face Erik, one hand still clutching her galloping heart. “You scared me; did you have to sneak up on me like that?”
“Who’s sneaking?” He asked with an amused tilt to his head.
“I guess maybe I wasn’t paying attention.” She shrugged, not really all that concerned with her momentary lapse in vigilance.
“I’d say that’s understandable,” He replied, falling into step beside her. “Are you headed back to the house?”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I have to be up and moving pretty early tomorrow. A little
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