“Unfortunately, on the website, we did advertise the garden tours. I hoped we could include your home and maybe even this garden?” The last ended on a hopeful note.
Silke shook her head. “This shouldn’t be on the tour. I don’t want to take the chance of anyone stepping on my plants. We need these for medications.” She didn’t add that many of the plants were poisonous. They needed those for defense. “We also like to keep strangers from our forest. It’s best if we stick with the homes and estates in the village.”
Gesina sighed. “I knew you’d say that. It’s just that they’re paying quite a bit for the tour, and I don’t want them to be disappointed because so many of the plants are not blooming right now.”
“They should expect that if they know anything at all about flowers,” Silke said.
“What time will you be home? Fenja said she wasn’t up to showing the gardens to anyone.” This time, there was concern in her voice. “What’s going on with her, Silke? She loves to show off the gardens.”
“Her arthritis is becoming a problem for her,” Silke admitted, unable to keep worry from her tone. It was more than that. Fenja’s heart, despite Tora’s repeated healing sessions, was wearing out. She often was short of breath and shaky. She never complained, but Silke watched her carefully and could see that Fenja’s health was slipping downhill.
“I’m sorry, Silke,” Gesina said immediately. “I know how close you are to your mother. It’s evident anytime I see you together. You look at her so lovingly, and she looks at you the same way.”
“She’s the best,” Silke said simply, meaning it. She pressed a palm over her aching heart. The thought of losing Fenja was too much tobear, so she tried never to think about that probability. She knew it was inevitable. Fenja was up there in age, and despite her knowledge of natural medicine, and her careful diet and exercise, she had always had health problems. Not that she ever complained. She didn’t. Silke had never heard her complain, even when she knew her adoptive mother was quite pained.
“Spread joy,” Fenja had told her. “It costs you nothing to be joyful and kind. Give back to others. Always spread joy.”
Fenja had always lived by her mandate. Everyone who knew her loved her. She was an example of serenity and calm. In any situation, no matter the crisis, Fenja could be counted on. Silke had big shoes to fill. Fenja was such a great example of what a kind human being could bring to the world. Many times, Silke had watched Fenja deescalate a volatile situation, whether it was adults arguing or children fighting. She tried to emulate her, staying calm in the middle of a storm. She’d always felt lucky having Fenja for a mother.
“Will you be able to do the tour at your house around five this evening? We could end at your gardens. That will give you some more time here before you have to deal with the group.”
“That would be perfect, thank you,” Silke said. “I was hoping to finish transplanting the last of the dragon lilies.”
Gesina wrinkled her nose. “They’re so beautiful, but the smell is awful. And they attract so many flies. Milan wanted me to plant some in our garden because he loves the way they look, but I said absolutely not.”
Silke laughed. “I agree it is best not to have them too close to the house. They do smell like rotting meat.”
“Milan said a corpse.” Gesina gave a delicate little shudder. “He thought if we advertised that they ate flies, more people would come on the tours and we’d make more money.”
“You know they don’t actually eat the flies. The flies are trapped for a short period of time, so the plant is pollinated.”
This was the first time she had an inkling that Milan and Gesinamight be in financial difficulties. She knew they had invested in pastureland to raise cows. It had taken most of their money to swing the deal. She’d heard rumors that they had taken a partner—a friend, Ese Jordan, whom Milan had gone to school with—who had talked them into the investment. Gesina and Milan had always wanted to raise dairy cows, and they were willing to put in the work. Ese had the knowledge.
“How are all your cows? I haven’t heard you talk about them lately. I only went by a couple of times when you were putting up the shelters for them. They’re beautiful animals and seemed sweet.”
“They are sweet,” Gesina confirmed. She hesitated. “Unfortunately, several of our best cows were sold off. They produced large amounts of milk and were amazing mothers.” She turned away, but Silke saw the sheen of tears on her face.
“You sold your cows? You loved them so much, Gesina.”
“I didn’t sell them. Milan and I weren’t even told they were being sold.” Bitterness crept into her voice. “It seems Ese thinks he’s the senior partner, and although we put up the money and do the work, he controls everything. Especially the books.”
Silke wiped her hands clean on the cloth she carried for just such a purpose. “He won’t allow you to see the books?”
Gesina shook her head. “Milan and I have been discussing whether we should approach the elders over this matter. Ese did suggest we put our home on the garden tour, which was a good idea and quite the compliment. Still, he doesn’t go near the farm to help. Milan and I do most of the work. We had help to begin with but had to lay the workers off.”
“You think he’s siphoning off money for his gambling.” Silke made it a statement. There was no judgment in her voice. She sounded strictly neutral, something she’d learned from Fenja. She didn’t portray sympathy or hint that she agreed with Gesina. She wanted to appear as a friend who would listen without judging either side. She’d deliberately used “siphoning” rather than “embezzling.” She knew Ese and Milan had been good friends in school.
Gesina looked around her as if the forest might have ears. It did. Had she looked closely, Gesina might have noticed two branches bending slightly toward them, the movement against the wind. She might have seen eyes peeking out at them from the clusters of moss growing on trees and rocks. Or the way the closest fallen tree adjusted part of the fallen log toward them. Gesina saw none of those things. Most people didn’t. Evi Van Wieren, a child of eleven, did and she believed.
Gesina lowered her voice to a whisper. “I know he’s taken our money. The dairy should have been turning a nice profit, but Ese claims we’re losing massive amounts of money for feed, vet bills, fencing, pretty much you name it, he claims we’re spending the money on it. That’s just not true. The fencing is up. We’ve always paid the vet bills when they come out to see to the cows. He says we owe them a huge debt. Milan doesn’t want to believe that Ese would steal from us, but…” She trailed off and wrapped her arms around her waist protectively.
Knowledge blossomed. “Gesina, are you pregnant?”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded. “We’ve wanted a baby forever. We thought we would be in a good financial position and were so excited, and now everything’s a mess.”
“Have you been to the doctor?”
Gesina shook her head. “We didn’t want to spend the money.”
