Her first impression of the greenhouse’s interior was the smell. The deep, earthy, fetid smell reminded her of vegetables left too long in the crisper. The damp air was musty and nearly suffocating.

Her gaze was drawn to the center of the room, where a fountain stood silent like a sentry watching over its domain. Dirt had filled the three tiers, allowing grass and weeds to take root in all three. Around the fluted base were brick pavers smeared in green moss and arranged in a herringbone pattern that occupied half the floor space.

The rich soil around the edges was filled with overgrown plants that had turned so wild they barely resembled any plant she had ever seen. A honeysuckle vine grew up the side of the greenhouse, searching for more sunlight.

Kelce and Sarge ventured into the room, each enamored by all the new smells. Sarge hiked his leg and definitively marked his territory. Kelce followed suit.

Colton moved to chase the two out, but Elaine stopped him. “That’s fine. They’re family too.”

“I like it.” Libby’s gaze rose up to the domed ceiling.

“It was pure luxury,” Elaine said. “My grandmother loved orchids, and Grandfather built this place so she could enjoy them all year long. She was from London and said this greenhouse matched the one her parents had in London. It was destroyed along with the family house in the Blitz.”

Colton walked up to one of the glass panes and inspected a crack that ran the diagonal length of it. “Elaine, you could make a small fortune if you had the place dismantled and sold all the pieces and parts to an architectural salvage company. It’s all quality construction.”

“We’ve had this conversation before,” Elaine said. “I want to fix it up. Make it what it once was.”

“It’ll take months,” he said.

“And money. I know the drill.” Elaine ran her fingertips along the edge of the fountain. “I suspect the plumbing that supplied water to this will need repair.”

“Yes,” he said. “There’s a gravity-fed system that feeds from a well near the main house.”

“Quite the engineering,” Libby said.

“My grandfather wanted only the best for his bride,” Elaine said.

“What was your grandfather Edward like?” Libby asked.

“Very dedicated to his work—that at times was controversial.”

“I think I read something about him years ago,” Libby said.

“It would have been hard to miss.”

Not only was the air thick with humidity, but it was also full of sadness and loss. The greenhouse had been designed to bear fruit, but neglect had left it infertile and a relic, more trouble than it was worth. A chill rolled down Libby’s spine, and she wondered if Sierra’s curse theory was not far off the mark.

Colton remained silent as he moved toward a far corner and knelt to inspect the foundation. He picked up an empty beer can that was faded and crushed. “When I was in high school, some kids used to sneak in here from time to time.”

“Sounds like you were in that group, Colton,” Elaine said.

“It was a long time ago,” he said.

Everything about Colton appeared to be in place, but Libby wondered if the sixteen-year-old version of him had been so contained.

“Did you sneak in here, Libby?” Elaine asked.

“I went to boarding school, so I missed out on the fun.”

An alarm buzzed on Colton’s phone. He removed it from his pocket and shut it off. “I’ve got to go get the boys, who are playing with friends this afternoon,” he said. His voice was smooth and mellow, unrushed. “As soon as I get them settled, I’ll be back to start on cleaning this place out. Libby, you want a ride back to the house with me or Elaine?”

“She can ride back with me,” Elaine said.

“Right,” he said.

“Colton, if you need help or extra manpower, get it,” Elaine said. “I want this done right, without delay.”

“Will do.” He strode outside and whistled for the dogs, who happily followed him to the truck.

Libby allowed her gaze to roam over the herringbone brick floor to a small stone table angled in a corner. “I’m glad you’re opening the property. From a business standpoint, it will allow you to upkeep all its beauty and history.”

“Perhaps,” Elaine said. “Or I might keep it private and available exclusively to the family. My husband calls it another one of my rescue missions.”

Libby wondered if she too might be one of those rescues, though she would argue she did not need rescuing. “Seems a worthy cause to me.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Elaine said.

Libby pointed her lens toward a small statue of a little angel. It was made of white marble and, like everything else, was covered in a thick coating of moss. She crossed to the opposite side to look back. Libby captured more images, and as she glanced to her right, she caught misshapen letters that had been etched in one of the glass panes. “Sadie.”

“What?” Elaine sounded slightly startled.

“Sadie, 1942. The name and date were etched in the glass.” Libby took more pictures.

Elaine crossed and gently traced the letters with her fingertips. “I had forgotten all about this.”

“Who was Sadie?”

“She was a local girl who worked for my grandmother for a time.”

“Is she still in town?”

“She passed away in the 1990s.”

Libby wondered if a search in the local archives would reveal much about Sadie. Even as the thought occurred to her, she wondered why it should matter.

Libby followed Elaine to her truck and slid into the passenger seat. Elaine started the engine, put it in reverse, and backed up and turned around as if she had done it a million times.

“It’s a beautiful space.” Libby clicked back through images of the domed roof—the glass cut the light into a rainbow of colors.

The truck bumped and rocked up the hill toward the road that led to the circular drive in front of the house. Elaine pulled up beside Libby’s car.

She wondered again why Elaine’s grandmother had turned her back on this incredible space. “I’ll put the proposal together and email it by tonight.”

“I’m having a little dinner tonight. It’ll be Margaret, Colton, and the boys. My daughter, Lofton, might also attend. Bring it in person and join us.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Yeah, sure. That would be great. Thank you. What time?”

“Five. I know it’s early, but the boys will be ready for bed by seven. Children have a way of taking over our lives in the best ways.”

“So I’ve been told.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

LIBBY

Monday, June 8, 2020

The Woodmont Estate

As Libby was about to drive away from the Woodmont Estate toward Bluestone, her phone chimed with a text from Sierra. Meet me at the general store. S. She texted back a thumbs-up emoji and then put her car in gear and headed for the center of town.

Parked in front of the old store was Sierra’s red MINI Cooper. Libby nosed her car behind Sierra’s and crossed the sidewalk to the front door. The large picture window was covered in brown paper with a GOING OUT OF BUSINESS sign. The door’s worn handle was made of tarnished brass. A spiderweb and a bird’s nest sat atop the transom.