Mason glanced over at Ginger. “I hope clumsiness isn’t contagious.”
“Very funny,” Ginger said good-naturedly.
A knock sounded at the door, and Ethan opened it to reveal Ida Green with a giant suitcase and a couple of boxes.
Ginger wheeled around. “Ida! Thank you so much for bringing my stuff.”
“It’s no trouble.” Ida started to lift a box, but Ethan got to it first.
“I’ll get this, Ida. You go inside.” Ethan hefted the box and grabbed the suitcase handle.
“Could you set the box on the counter?” Ginger asked.
Ethan set it down, and she wheeled over and started to remove things—a microscope, glass slides, beakers, and a Bunsen burner.
“What’s all that for?” Ethan asked.
“I’m continuing my research. I’d almost gotten a good formula down when I fell. In fact…” She reached into her pocket, pulled out some pine needles, and held them up. “I have the final piece of the equation right here.”
“Really, Ginger, you don’t have to work while you’re recovering,” Dorothy said.
“I appreciate that, but I want to see this through. Besides, it’ll give me something to do while I’m stuck inside.” Ginger glanced down at the cast on her leg. “I might need some help applying my solution to the trees, though, since I can’t get around outside in the snow.”
“Of course, dear. I’m sure Ethan will be delighted to help you.” Dorothy glanced over at Ethan. “Won’t you?”
Ethan’s stomach sank at the twinkle in his mother’s eyes. Was she trying to fix him up with Ginger? That wasnotgoing to happen. But it made sense for him to help Ginger—the trees were his responsibility. He would have to help her, but that didn’t mean he had to get close to her. In fact, the best thing would be to make her want to spend the least amount of time with him possible.
Ethan set his face into his grumpiest scowl he could muster and met his mother’s gaze. “Of course. I want the trees to be healthy more than anything.”
“Good, then it’s settled.” Dorothy clapped her hands together.
Ethan grunted and picked up the box he’d set near the door. Earlier, he’d thrown some of his clothes and toiletries into the box. “Better get my room set up,” he mumbled as he headed out the door.
The prospect of spending the next few weeks in his childhood bedroom in the farmhouse was not very appealing, but it was better than spending them in his tiny cabin with Ginger.
Chapter12
Ginger hummed a cheerful tune as she wheeled herself closer to the makeshift lab station in Ethan’s cabin. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the various scientific instruments scattered about. Despite her unfortunate injury, Ginger couldn’t help but feel cheery. After all, she was doing what she loved most—saving plants.
“All right, my little pine needles,” she whispered affectionately, adjusting the microscope’s focus. “Let’s see what we can do for you.”
As Ginger peered into the eyepiece, she immediately noticed the telltale signs of nitrate deficiency in the balsam fir samples.Good, one piece of the puzzle solved. Now how to get the appropriate nutrients into the trees quickly.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, she began brainstorming potential solutions, her pencil flying across the pages of her notebook. Time was of the essence, and with the ground being frozen, soil amendment would be difficult. Besides, that usually didn’t work as well or as fast on full-grown trees.
“Okay, so we could try adding a nitrogen-rich solution directly to the leaves,” she mused aloud, adding the idea to her list. “Or perhaps some sort of compost tea? Or maybe…”
She trailed off, realizing that she needed to consult one of her favorite books. She wheeled over to a side table, where Ethan had stacked her reference books. She reached over to dig through the books.
“Ah-ha! There you are!” Ginger exclaimed triumphantly as her hand closed around the spine of the well-worn text. In her excitement, however, she knocked over a silver frame with a photo in it. The frame teetered on the edge of the table, and Ginger dropped her book to rescue it before it fell to the floor.
Placing it back on the table, she noticed the photo was a picture of two men standing in front of a row of young fir trees. One was a younger version of Ethan, and the other an older version of him.
That must be his father,she thought as she pushed it a safe distance from the edge. Glancing around the room, she realized what had seemed odd about the cabin—there were no other pictures, knickknacks, or decorative items. It spoke volumes that Ethan kept out only this one picture of him and his dad. She knew his dad had died about a year ago, and her heart broke a little for him. It was obvious in the picture how close the two had been.
That might explain why Ethan acted so grumpy all the time. And Mason had mentioned something about his wife passing away too. No wonder the guy was so sad. Well, the nicest thing she could do was help him get the balsam firs in tip-top shape. Now, she was more determined than ever.
As she wheeled back to the counter with the book, she noticed again how sparse the cabin was. It was the opposite of the farmhouse, which she’d seen briefly after Mason and Kristen had driven her back from the hospital. The farmhouse brimmed with warmth and cheer, every surface adorned with festive Christmas decorations. Even now, the image of the twinkling lights and colorful baubles Dorothy had set out filled Ginger’s heart with joy.
