Disappointed, Friedrich went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and he happened to glance out the window—and there she was. He pushed the curtain aside to see better.
Flora was digging in the garden with a trowel. In broad daylight on Sunday! If his mother saw her doing that! A smile flitted across Friedrich’s face. Luckily, his parents had announced that they wanted to visit some friends after church.
He was already at the door out to the garden when he saw Sabine coming from the street and heading in the same direction. Friedrich turned and went back inside. He hoped Sabine would not keep Flora too long.
I know I did not come to Baden-Baden to start digging around in the dirt again, Flora thought as she supported herself on the spade and rubbed her aching back. The perspiration ran down her back, her face was grimy and itchy, and her hair clung to her scalp.
At least all the effort was getting her somewhere. The garden beds were finally free of weeds and stones, and the earth itself was wonderfully crumbly.
The church bells rang eleven times when Flora, filled with anticipation, untied the linen sack holding the packets of seeds. She had to hurry if she wanted to be finished by lunch.
A familiar, spicy fragrance rose when Flora opened the first packet, which contained tiny poppy seeds, so easily blown away by the first breath of wind that came along. The smell called to her mind an image of the packing room at her parents’ house.
Next came nasturtiums, marigolds, zinnias, and the delicate seeds of echinacea. Carefully, Flora planted the seeds in the moist earth.
Let’s hope those birds in the pear tree don’t peck them out of the ground first chance they get, Flora thought. It would be good if Friedrich could build a scarecrow.
“Are you out of your mind? Slaving away like that on a Sunday?”
Flora looked up in surprise. Sabine was standing in front of her with a handful of strawberries, holding them toward her. “I was just given these. Want one?”
Flora crushed one of the strawberries in her mouth, savoring its delicious sweetness. She would rather not know from which big-hearted benefactor Sabine had received the fruit or if, as with the butcher, she had had to pay with a kiss . . .
“Well? What do you think?” she asked.
“I don’t see anything but a square of brown earth, but I must say that that looks very neat,” Sabine replied. “I can’t really picture flowers growing there yet.”
Flora laughed. “Every year at home, I’m taken by surprise. What do you think? Should I trim back that overgrown hedge a little?”
“Now listen, God did not make the earth in a day. Besides, the Sonnenscheins will be back soon, and if madam sees you like that, you’ll be in for it. Come inside and I’ll warm some water so you can wash. You look worse than me during spring cleaning.”
Flora looked down at herself. Her skirt was damp and brown at the knees, and her hands were filthy, too. Her hair had come loose and flopped in a tangle over her right shoulder. Would one bowl of hot water be enough to fix all that?
“But what if Mr. Sonnenschein falls ill again in the next few days? Then I’ll have to look after the shop and won’t have any time for garden work.”
“So what?” Sabine said. “Why are you worried about the garden at all? The young master should be the one out here breaking his back.” She turned and strode off toward the kitchen.
Flora watched her go.
“Flora! For heaven’s sake, what are you doing out here?” she heard, but this time it was Friedrich.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she replied with a laugh, and she swung her arm around toward the garden bed. “I know it is better to prepare the soil in autumn, and it is very late for most of the summer-blooming flowers. But I didn’t want the seeds my father gave me to bring along to go to waste. And your father will be happy to see this, I’m sure. Won’t he?” A sudden wave of doubt struck Flora. Would they call her presumptuous for this, too? Then all she would have achieved was the opposite of what she wanted.
“Father will be thrilled,” Friedrich said hurriedly. “Until the year before last, he was a keen gardener, but then . . . his health, you know.”
Flora nodded. “I think the customers will appreciate a wider choice of flowers, too. The flowers that bloom here in a few weeks will be as freshly picked as they can possibly be. And they won’t cost a cent, unlike the flowers from Flumm’s Nursery.”
“Their quality leaves something to be desired, doesn’t it?” Friedrich grimaced. “When I see the half-wilted flowers in the buckets . . .”
“I wouldn’t really say that,” said Flora slowly. The nurseryman certainly dealt in high-quality flowers—he purchased his seed from G?nningen, after all—but he probably kept the best he had for the customers who had the money for them. In the Sonnenschein flower shop, they could not afford any more than second-grade blooms.
“Here I am gaping like a fool!” said Friedrich abruptly. “I came out here to ask you if you’d like to go for a stroll. I think, after such a tumultuous week, you’ve earned a change of scenery and some time to rest and recuperate. But I see you’re happy to work even on Sundays. I suppose I could have helped you.”
“It’s all right,” Flora said. “I’m done with the garden bed anyway. I just wanted to trim the hedge a little—”
“The hedge?” Friedrich cut in. “I’ll help! Just wait, I’ll get a second set of shears. It’s always better with two.” He took off his vest and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.
Flora watched him, feeling rather doubtful about their joint enterprise. Mrs. Sonnenschein would certainly not be happy to come home and find her son at work in the garden.
Friedrich was right: with two of them, the work went faster and was a lot more fun. After an hour, they had trimmed back the overgrown hedge considerably. The garden looked not only bigger, but also brighter and more orderly. The more branches that fell, the more surprises awaited them. Flora discovered a rhododendron bush, patches of lily of the valley, and a few shrubs that neither she nor Friedrich was familiar with.
“As long as it’s not poisonous,” Friedrich teased.
“Or a spider’s nest,” Flora added, and they burst out laughing.
“The garden desperately needed this,” he said as they packed up the spade, hoe, garden shears, and other tools. “But I’ve had hardly any time to spare this year. Every day, the leaseholder of the casino asks for something new. One day it’s a list of all the maintenance costs, the next it’s an estimate of how many water bottles I fill for the guests.” He shook his head. “I guess the town demands these lists of him. And I’m happy to help, of course, but I already have enough to do with the guests themselves. One of them will want to hear a presentation about the healing benefits of the waters, then comes another asking for directions, and so on, and so on.” He sighed, but waved one hand dismissively. “But I’ll gladly make time for you. How would you like me to show you the town after lunch?” Friedrich smiled. “You won’t find a better guide than me. I know every corner of Baden-Baden.”
Flora shooed away a bee that was trying to crawl into the sleeve of her jacket.
“I don’t know. My feet are rather sore,” she said as the little creature buzzed away. “Would you have time next Sunday, instead?”
Friedrich nodded, smiling broadly. Then they went to the summerhouse, which had pretty decorated windows and a glass-paned door. It stood at the back of the property and had a small shed against one side where they stowed their garden tools. Perhaps they used the summerhouse on warm days in the past, Flora conjectured, but the cast-iron furniture stacked in one corner inside was now quite rusted.