Page 7 of No Bed Of Roses

It made her smile even as she decided she’d had enough for the day. Instead of checking out the barn in the dim light, she turned to the cottage, unlocked the door, relocked it, and armed the security system as Sam had shown her.

A peek out the window showed her that the man next door was out of sight. She closed the curtains against the night and put on the kettle for some tea. She’d heat up one of Graham’s meals and eat it in her pajamas.

And if she was going to think about her sexy neighbor, right along with her plans, no one had to know.

CHAPTER 3

Watching Glass Grow

Isla woke the next morning feeling almost human, even though her sleep had been spotty. The last few weeks had been among the most stressful of her life, and that was saying something.

She’d lost her mom at a young age, and that was a grief that never healed. Being disowned by her father at eighteen had been no joke, but having Asshole Ed try to rip off her ideas and discredit her had taken a bite out of her soul. The fact that he hadn’t succeeded helped, but for her well-being, she’d needed to leave the lab and her job.

Waking up across the country in a warm, cozy cottage far from her family and her former job was fabulous. Freedom. To follow her own path, her own ideas.

All thanks to Tansy.

They’d met a few years before through an online conference, both working on a way to improve wells and irrigation systems for arid countries without much money. They’d kept in touch over the years and created a few new systems that they’d patented. And those patents had given Isla enough money to keep the wolves from the door.

Tansy had told Isla about the farm properties in Vermont, where Tansy had inherited a parcel of land from her grandfather. Midnight Lake was now home to Tansy’s projects, her partner’s Midnight Security business, and a group of motivated people doing their own things to improve the world.

Isla was now one of them. She’d met a few of the group the day before, and liked them all. She hoped to get to know them all better when she had time. Her own projects would keep her busy.

Which made her think of her laughable attempts at sorting the windows into a plan for a greenhouse. Maybe a helpful wind had blown them all into order overnight, and she only had to attach the pieces together.

Smiling at herself, Isla hopped in the shower and moved to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. Oatmeal with cinnamon and fresh apple slices was exactly what she needed.

While eating, she opened the curtains and studied the view through the kitchen window. Peaceful field, worn but sturdy barn, empty garden.

Today, she would get more serious about checking out the barn. She hadn’t even stepped inside it yet. Maybe it would be full of old equipment she could use. Or it might be hiding a full-grown greenhouse she could put outside.

Wearing another pair of overalls, she slipped into her rubber boots. Her mom had been from Scotland and always called them wellies. The name made her smile every time she put them on. She didn’t have many memories of her mom, but she treasured each one.

In deference to the spring weather, she grabbed a flannel jacket and shrugged it over her hoody. Her Texas blood would take a while to acclimate. Shoving her phone in her pocket and grabbing her notebook, Isla headed outside.

The crisp air had her stopping on the back porch and drawing in a lungful of the incredible stuff. Cool enough to tingle, but the sun was already burning off the soft mist that hung low over the fields.

Isla spent a few minutes imagining the porch filled with flower pots, deciding what she wanted to plant in the veggie garden before moving towards the barn. She passed by the windows, smiling as she thought of the sexy man she’d met the night before.

Glass farmer.

She wondered if one night’s sleep was enough to help her brain figure it out. Her steps slowed as she realized the windows weren’t taking up as much space as they had been the night before.

They were arranged more compactly.

Her steps slowed further, and she studied the new arrangement. It took her brain far too long to realize they were now arranged in four rectangles. Two sets of matching rectangles that would make walls for her greenhouse. A stack of extras sat to the side as if waiting their turn.

One of the smaller rectangles had a door positioned in the center. Bits of wood from the piles filled in the gaps between the windows. Which was the missing piece her tired brain hadn’t been able to latch onto the night before.

Her window garden had grown a greenhouse. Or at least a greenhouse plan. A perfect plan that would actually work.

Isla walked around the rectangles, grinning and even giggling. When was the last time she’d giggled? Probably not since she was a little kid. Before her mom’s death had changed everything.

Her sexy farmer was nowhere in sight. Did this make him her fairy godfather? Fairy god-farmer? No one else would have known what to do with the windows. She’d have to find him and thank him. This was amazing and would save her hours—maybe days—of work.

Then she could find out his name.

Isla took multiple pictures of each rectangle and then measured them all to make sure they would fit. They did.

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