The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [123]
“Yes, but—”
“Listen very carefully,” Simon insisted. “It’s very, very important that you know exactly what to say. . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
From the evening news . . .
Sarah Hayward Decker, daughter of the late President Graham Hayward, Sr., and sister of Rhode Island congressman and rumored presidential candidate Graham Hayward, Jr., died early this afternoon of injuries she sustained in what’s been described as a freak accident. According to Sgt. Thomas Burton of the Henderson, Maryland, Police Department, Mrs. Decker was meeting with a landscape designer at a property she and her husband, a retired navy Admiral, were thinking about buying when she was accidentally struck by a vehicle driven by the landscaper. Congressman Hayward declined comment, requesting privacy for his family. Calls to the home of former First Lady Celeste Hayward were unanswered.
No charges were filed against the driver of the vehicle in connection with the accident.
In other national news . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Hi.” Simon poked his head through the door and looked around the small shop. “I was looking for Dina.”
“Oh.” The woman behind the counter smiled. “You must be Simon. Dina said you’d be coming by this morning.” She walked toward him with her hand out and took his when it was offered. “I’m Polly. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh?” Simon grinned. “All good, of course.”
“Of course. You’re the white knight who saved Dina from the bad guy.”
Simon laughed. “I’d love to take the credit, but the truth is that Dina didn’t need much saving by the time I got there. She’s a pretty amazing lady.”
“That she is. Now, to find that amazing lady, you’ll go out this door and down the path that leads through the trees to the greenhouse.”
“I know the way. Thanks, Polly. It was good to meet you.”
“I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”
Polly pulled the curtain aside and watched until Simon disappeared through the trees.
“Nice,” she said aloud, nodding her head in approval. “Very, very nice . . .”
The door to the greenhouse swung open and Dina stepped out, a flat of low-growing plants in her arms.
“Hey!” Simon called to her.
“Hey, yourself!” she called back.
She was wearing jeans that were just a bit snug and a tiny bit dusty and a tank that fit her torso like skin. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, and it was all Simon could do to keep from sinking his fingers into those dark curls.
“You think you should be lifting that?” Simon stepped forward to take the flat from her hands. “Weren’t you just shot a few days ago?”
“It’s not at all heavy,” Dina told him as he drew closer, “and it wasn’t much of a wound, though I will admit that my shoulder’s a bit stiff.”
She let him take the flat from her hands. “I’m glad you called. I was hoping you would.”
“I wanted to give you just a little time to catch your breath.”
“I’ve caught it.” She smiled, and something deep inside him twisted and turned.
“Good. You’re feeling all right, then?”
“I’m fine. No permanent damage.”
“I’m glad.” He nodded. “Glad you’re okay.”
“I was just thinking about taking these seedlings out to the field. They need to be hardened a bit before we can offer them for planting in the ground. Want to take a walk? I’ll show you around.”
“Sure.”
Simon carried the flat for her, then placed it where she directed, on the ground in the shade.
“Shouldn’t they be in the sun?” he asked.
“These are young plants. They have to get used to natural light and temperature,” she told him. “A little each day. Otherwise, if they go right from the greenhouse to someone’s garden, they’ll die.”
He nodded as if he understood when, in truth, he was so dazzled by being this close to her again that he could barely comprehend a word she’d said.
“Want to see the lake?” she asked, holding out her hand for his.
“Sure.”
They walked through fields still muddy from last