"Oh yes, that's new! It was Father's idea mostly, but he asked me to take care of it. They don't need much, being wildflowers, but I like to keep them well watered. I think plants grow better if they know they're loved."
It was an oddly sentimental thought, one he hadn't expected from a woman like Aurora. She was always so practical, but Elmore found himself appreciating this more open, gentle version of her.
They walked along the path together, side by side but with distance between them. Truly, Elmore would have liked to close the space between them, to slip his hand into hers...but there was no sense in that. Not only was it improper, but he couldn'timagineAurora herself agreeing.
So he kept that thought to himself as they walked.
As they came to the edge of the property, cut off from the street by a towering wooden fence, he saw the wildflowers. Bright pink and purple orchids spread out in all directions, dotted with delicate white daisies. There had to be half a dozen more flowers mixed in there too — honeysuckle and valerian and many others, some of which he had never seen together. Somehow, the chaos of so many plants all growing together justworked.
It was stunning, and he was lost for words.
He caught Aurora smiling from the corner of his eyes, as she bent to brush her hand through a patch of tiny daisies.
The flowers were all flourishing, not one species trying to overtake another. It was wild and free, yet clearly well looked after.Loved,as Aurora had phrased it earlier.
"Lovely, isn't it?" she asked. Aurora stood again, brushing dirt from her knees. and hands. "At first, I wasn't sure if it would look good. I was afraid that there was too much shade here, or that the flowers would look too messy, and people might think this was a forgotten part of the garden."
Elmore shook his head. "No, it looks fantastic," he urged, "there's something special about it, a part of the main garden but not. If you planted climbing flowers here too, against the fence — oh, sorry, you probably don't want to hear my advice."
She was quiet for a moment, before replying awkwardly, "it isn't that I don't want it. It's only that I don't want advice given under the assumption that I'm not smart enough to have my own ideas."
Elmore swallowed down his words, unsure whether it was all right to voice them. This new friendship between them was tenuous, a slender threat that could be severed at any second.
"Anyway," Aurora added, "maybe you're right. The fence looks awfully bare, I could put something there. The problem is that a lot of climbing flowers and vines can overtake the space too quickly and suck the nutrients from the other plants."
Well, true, if they weren't cared for and cut back regularly. It was easier for wildflowers to survive because they were hardier than garden flowers; and besides, Aurora seemed like the kind of woman who knew what she was doing. He didn't voice that though, and simply hummed in agreement.
"You do that a lot, you know."
"What?" he asked.
"Hum when you agree but wish to say more."
Oh. He did? Elmore himself hadn't been aware of it. It was probably left over from his childhood; Father had been the kind of man who expected Elmore to listen and not talk, but still expected proof that Elmore was paying attention. The odd hum oryes sir,had been Elmore's way of showing that he wasn't daydreaming. Sometimes, it had also been a reminder to Father that he was still there, when he went off on one of his rambling tirades.
Embarrassment flooded him then, but Elmore did his best to stuff it down. Nobody liked an anxious man.
"I was just thinking," he clarified, but didn't specify what he was thinking about. There was no need for Aurora to know how often his mind drifted to her, even when she was right beside him.
She watched him from the corner of her eyes, which twinkled under the sunshine. Then she turned to brush golden locks over her shoulder, and pointed down the cobbled path.
"There's a lovely spot to sit, near the trees. Would you like to sit for a minute?" she asked.
They hadn't done all that much walking, in truth, but the sun was overwhelming and he wouldn't have minded the shade.
"I would love to sit," Elmore replied, "perhaps you can show me more of the garden later? I feel exploring is more fun with a guide."
They sat under the shade of a tall sycamore tree, its wide branches stretching well past the bench to provide a cool canopy for them to rest at.
Elmore dug his notebook from his pocket, although admittedly it was more habit now than anything. He had filled almost every page by now with plants and flowers of all kinds; from towering trees to the tiniest flower, there wasn't much hehadn'tdrawn.
Silence descended on them, as he began to sketch in graphite. It wasn't as messy as charcoal and it provided more delicate lines. He found that it captured the essence of his chosen subject far better than anything else, except perhaps for watercolor.
Meanwhile, Aurora stared out across the garden, to where the wildflowers were just barely visible. Her side profile was quite lovely, with a straight nose and full, pouting lips. Her neck was slender, and she was wearing a thin pearl necklace that sat in the hollow of her throat, just above the collar of her pale blue dress.
She was unlike any woman he had seen, and Elmore found himself itching to capture her in his notebook. The curve of her lower jaw, the sweep of her hair, she was perfect.
The image took shape without effort, the graphite sweeping across the page as if he had done this a thousand times before. The only thing Elmore struggled with were her eyes; on paper, it was impossible to capture the richness of that green, or the way her delicate lashes fluttered when she blinked.