The Tree Keeper's Promise Part 3

"If you're asking us to dinner to apply some kind of pressure, I'll say "No, thank you" now and save your staff the trouble."

"No, that's not it. No worries. I promise. Please come and relax."

"I'll check with Mark." Angela fumed down the porch steps to the driveway and all the way to Blackstone.

Relax? I should be worried. Very worried.

Angela settled into the manager's desk at the Blackstone apartments. Though she didn't think of it as hers anymore, she still liked the way it felt to have a place to go, a place to get some work done. Aside from Mark's farm, this little office had felt like home. But the conversation with her mother had left her second-guessing herself. Had she been wasting her time? No. Just the opposite. Without a mortgage payment, she'd been saving for a new truck. And wasn't it okay to like the work she'd been doing? Maybe they hadn't found someone to take her place for a reason.

The door opened with a chime of the bells that hung on the handle. Angela looked up from her maintenance requests to greet Gloria from the home office.

"Good, you're here," the woman said.

"Are those for me?" Angela asked, nodding at some files Gloria had in her hand.

"A few renewals," she said as she put them down on the desk. "There's no rush. They renew at the end of October. And, speaking of next month, we've hired a new manager."

So much for staying around here.

"Officially she'll start on the second, but I invited her to come for training. At least one week, maybe two. Did you say you'd be willing to show her some things?" Gloria asked with a cautious but pleading tone.

"Yes, I can do that," Angela answered.

Of course the end of the month and the start of the new one is the busiest time around here, but sure. Maybe another set of hands will be better than one.

"Could you go over tours? Maybe applications and contracts, too? You've handled everything so professionally. If she can follow your lead, she'll be fine," Gloria said as she sat down across the desk from Angela and checked her cell phone.

"Does she have any experience?"

"Yes, of course. Mostly sales, but she's eager to learn."

Hmm. It sounds more like she's in need of a full, two-week training, not a friendly orientation.

Maybe Angela's concern was obvious.

"Don't worry, we'll go over all the legal and accounting practices with her at the home office. Mainly we're hoping she can shadow you and learn how you do what you do so well."

"Thank you, Gloria. I'm glad to know you've been happy with what I've done. That sounds fine. Are you sure she won't mind shadowing me?"

"She seemed enthusiastic when I told her the plan," Gloria said.

Enthusiasm. That will help.

Angela didn't call to tell Mark she was coming-he would ask why and then she would end up telling him about her mother's dinner invitation over the phone, thereby defeating the purpose of talking with him face-to-face. She wanted eye contact and to see his face to make sure he was okay with it. So long as he wasn't in the middle of the farm, mowing around the trees, he wouldn't mind the surprise and they'd be able to talk.

It's just a little dinner, Angela told herself. But she knew better. She knew her mother. It would be a full-course dinner. Probably with ulterior motives for the appetizer and here's-your-life-plan for dessert.

She parked her truck in the driveway instead of the parking lot and tapped the steering wheel as she hopped out. She didn't know when it had begun, but it was a kind of thank-you to the truck for starting each time and had grown into a near-ritual-that, and asking it to start when she got back in.

She saw Mark walking toward the back lot beside the farmhouse, a clipboard in his hand. She called to him, but he didn't hear her. She picked up her pace and caught up with him as he pa.s.sed the toolshed.

"Angela!" Mark reached out, hugged her with one arm, and gave her a kiss. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

She gave him a quick hug in return. "I came from the apartments. Can I join you?" she said a little breathlessly.

"I'd love your company. Doing a check on inventory for the sales lot this year."

They walked side by side as the sun moved lower in the west and a cool breeze stirred around them.

"Not sure what kind of year we'll have. Sales probably won't be as high as they were last year, but I'm counting on some of the new customers returning," Mark said.

"You mean you don't have any plans for a news story? You could call Channel Six and tell them about the "love match" trees," Angela teased. They never did find out how the station had learned about the miracle trees, though Angela suspected it was the same gentleman who'd paid for her tree that night.

"Not going to happen," Mark said. "It worked out for us, but the farm doesn't need a repeat of the chaos we had last year."

They came upon a row of trees, and Mark's paced slowed.

"Speaking of sales," Angela said, "Gloria from the home office came out to tell me they hired a new manager. She said she has sales experience."

Her excitement shifted to anxiousness. She and Mark had talked all summer about how much better it would be when her apartment-manager job ended and she could spend her time helping at the farm. But now that it was becoming a reality, she felt a pang or two of insecurity.

"Great. When does she start?"

"Not until October," Angela answered.

"Well, at least they've found someone. Do you like her?"

"I haven't met her yet. But I will soon. They asked me to show her around, do some training."

"I'm not surprised. You've had that place running better than it ever has," Mark said.

"I don't know if I would say that."

"You don't have to-it shows. Highest occupancy rate, least amount of delinquent rents. Isn't that why Gloria wanted you to stay on?"

It was a question, but only one to make his point. Angela checked Mark's face to see if there was any evidence that he thought she should keep her job there.

"Maybe. But they've found someone. So I'll be able to start work here-you know, officially-the first week of October." She sounded more hesitant than eager, all thanks to the insecurity welling up inside her.

Mark turned his attention from one of the trees, jotted something on the clipboard, and looked at Angela. "You don't have to quit, you know. If you like it there, you can stay." He said it so kindly it took Angela a minute to process what he was saying.

"So ... you don't want me working at the farm?" she asked.

Mark had started walking by this time, and her question stopped him. He turned around to face her.

"Of course I do. Let me clarify. I want you to work here if you want to work here." He began walking again, stopping briefly at each tree and marking his clipboard.

Angela let the words sink in. He didn't elaborate, but she sensed what had been going on between the two of them.

She wanted to be at the farm with Mark, but only if he wanted her company. And Mark wanted her at the farm, so long as she really wanted to be there. And all of her checking and testing was giving him the impression that she wasn't sure she wanted to work there. That had to be the reason he'd suggested she keep her manager job. Right?

Right.

Perhaps a change of subject was in order.

"What kind of notes are you making about the trees?" she asked.

"I'm counting."

"All the trees? I thought maybe you estimated ..." She looked over the tops of the trees and was staggered by the thought of having to count them one by one.

"Not all of them. Just the ones that will be ready to sell this season. We should have enough to meet demand, but we like to identify the trees that are in that sweet spot for height and shape."

Angela nodded and followed Mark's line of sight to each tree, hoping to see what he saw. She loved it here, loved being with him.

"I do want to work here, you know," Angela said quietly.

Mark had stepped in between two trees-though she thought he was close enough to still hear her.

"I was afraid of that," he said, sighing heavily.

"Excuse me?" Before he could explain, panic took over. "I knew it. I knew you didn't want me here. All this time I felt like something was off. Like you didn't want me here." She was speaking more to herself. "Is it because I grew up in the city? Is it the accident with the pruning shears this past summer?" Angela threw up her hands in exasperation.

"What are you talking about?" Mark stared at Angela. "I never said any of that."

"I just said I wanted to work here, and you said you were afraid of that.'" She forced back the tears threatening to derail the entire conversation.

"What? No! That's not what I was talking about. Brown spot-on the trees. Look here." He motioned to the back of the tree he'd been looking at, and sure enough, some of the needles were yellow and mottled. He inspected the surrounding trees. "I only see these two trees. Maybe this one here should go too. Brett and I will come out tomorrow. We'll remove these and get some fungicidal spray on the rest of this section."

Angela nodded, sobered and embarra.s.sed yet relieved. Not that the trees had brown spot but that Mark was afraid of it and not her.

Mark made some detailed notes and began walking back toward the farmhouse. At once, Angela noticed the sun had sunk below the tree line, and though they had enough light to see their way back, it was a fading and shadow-filled light.

Once they were at the side door to the farmhouse, Angela spoke up. "Sorry about that back there. I didn't know you were talking about the trees."

Mark smiled mischievously. "You knew I didn't want you here? The pruning accident?" He opened the door and tossed his clipboard onto the counter, then turned and in one swooping motion scooped Angela up and carried her through the side door into the front room.

Am I that pet.i.te, or is he that strong?

Amid her half protest, half enjoyment, Mark spun her around in front of the fireplace and then set her down in the wingback chair. Placing his hands on each of the armrests, he bent down and kissed the side of her cheek, then the side of her lips.

"I love you, Angela. I will love you no matter where you live or where you work. But make no mistake, I want you as close to me as possible," he said as he dropped to one knee in front of the chair, gently took her face in his hands, and looked into her eyes before he kissed her more deeply.

Angela melted into Mark's soft kisses. She could hear her own breathing. And then heavy footsteps. Papa came in through the front door.

"Oh, good. You're here. Found some-"

"Scotches with Brown spot? Probably best if I have Brett remove them," Mark finished.

Papa stopped in his tracks and scratched the back of his head. "Glad you're on it!" he said and continued to the kitchen.

Mark stood, and Angela followed him. "It's late. I need to get home. My mother is there with Caroline."

She remembered the dinner plans-the reason she came to see him in the first place. "Before I go, Cathy invited us to her house this Friday for dinner."

"What did you tell her?" Mark asked matter-of-factly.

"I said I'd check with you. It's at six thirty."

"Great, I'll pick you up about five thirty," Mark said.

"Are you sure? If you're busy I can tell her we have other plans," Angela said.

"Are you sure? This is what, the third time she's asked us. You've said no every other time. Should I be worried there's something at her house you don't want me to see? Like do you have a shrine to Todd in your bedroom or something?"

"Wait, what? No, it's not the house." Okay sort of, but not for the reasons you think. "You know my mom, talking with her can be a-um, a minefield."

"You don't think I can handle a little dinner with your mom?"

"No dinner with my mom is little. And don't forget her "non-boyfriend" Gary. And, no, I'm not saying you can't handle it, just-why would you want to?"

"It's me you're talking to. Cathy and I get along fine. At some point she may not feel the need to tell me about my dad and how long they dated every time she sees me. She's your mother, and I love you. Trust me, there isn't anything that could change the way I feel about you."

Right. How about a butler and a full-course meal?

Angela watched Mark as he said the words. His eyes were focused on her with a genuine expression. "I hope you mean that," she said, but she still had the nagging worry that her mother might try to force the engagement issue. So what if it had been eight months or nine? Who was counting? No need to rush. They would do this on their time, not Cathy's.

Mark walked Angela to the door.

Papa returned from the kitchen eating the last of his sandwich. He waved and offered his four words, "Good to see ya."

Angela paused before leaving. "So I'll tell her we can make it?" The question in her voice drew a chuckle from Mark.

"Yes. We'll be there."

"You know my mom, she is probably going to bring up us."

"And? Is that a bad thing?" Mark asked.

"No, but I don't want it to be awkward if she asks."

"Asks what?"

"About us getting engaged." There, she'd named the elephant.

"So I should bring the ring? Wear my suit?"

Angela could hear the teasing in his voice. He was baiting her, and she knew it.