Lissa nodded and ducked her head to step under the low arch of the entrance.
The temperature dropped as if she’d stepped into a refrigerator as she took three steps down to the garden proper. Her mouth dropped right along with it as she tried to take it all in. Along the walls, thick slabs of limestone jutted out at varying levels, vines trailing off the ledges. Raised beds dotted the gardens, overflowing with ferns and brightly colored flowers. The air was fragrant and sweet, and she inhaled deeply, feeling like Eve in Eden.
She wanted to stay there forever.
Lissa strolled under one of the outcroppings, brushing a tendril of ivy from her cheek. She pressed a hand against the chilled stone wall and felt her heartbeat slow.
Heaven. It reminded her a bit of the courtyards of New Orleans. Verdant wildness restrained by artistic vision. She forgot her grumbling stomach and looked for the best vantage point.
On the far side of the garden, she hopped over a burbling stream and climbed the incline until she hit the wall. She turned and found the view she wanted. But not the perfect angle. Frowning, she sidestepped. Nope. Using her hands to frame the setting, she backed up until her pack hit a ledge. Still not a high-enough vantage point.
She glanced at the limestone slabs next to her. Four of them jutted out from the wall at increasing heights, Almost like a staircase for a giant. Tossing her bag on to the first outcropping, she placed her hands on the waist-high rough stone and hopped onto the ledge. Careful to avoid the ferns planted on top of the dirt-covered stone, she repeated the process with the next ledge, picking her way up until she reached the top.
She found a spot near where the outcropping met the wall, gently brushed the trailing vine of a black-eyed Susan aside, and sank to a cross-legged position. She looked over the garden, her artist’s heart tripping. She could see the patterns of the raised boxes and pathways clearly from this height. The colors of the plants were coordinated, with deep purples limning the garden walls, fading to blues, then pinks. The heart of the garden was bursting with crimson. Time had faded the lines between the color blocks, stray red plants encroaching in the pinks, the blues intruding on the purples, and Lissa loved that the flowers didn’t want to stay in their designated boxes.
She pulled a small sketch pad from her bag, along with some charcoal, and got to work. Her hand flew over the page and filled it up, and she flipped to a new sheet. Another section of the garden came to life. When she got to this Pineville, she’d have to find a good art supply store. She usually worked in oils, but this garden called for watercolors.
She became so engrossed in her work that she didn’t see Dax until he was right below her.
“What are you doing up there?” he asked. The Bluetick strained at the leash Dax held, whining softly and pawing at the soft earth.
“Sketching.” She sank back against the wall, a delicious chill soaking through her shirt. “This place is amazing. I’m so happy we stopped here instead of the giant knitting needles.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m glad you like it, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be up there. Come down. It isn’t safe.”
Lissa shook her head but couldn’t keep her lips from tipping up. He really was adorable when he went into grumpy-grandpa mode. “Lighten up, old man. These ledges are rock steady. You should come up and join me. The view is beautiful.”
“Those ledges were meant to support the weight of plants, not a human body.” He wrapped the leash around his wrist and held his arms up. “Now toss me your bag and come down. Carefully.”
Lissa turned back to her sketches. “Not going to happen. I’ll come down after you’ve walked all the other dogs and we need to go.”
“I’ve already walked the other dogs.” Dax untangled the leash from around his ankles and told the Bluetick to sit. The dog ignored him and nosed around a begonia. “But this guy put up an unholy racket when I tried to put him back in his cage.”
“Some animals aren’t meant to be caged. Freedom is everything.”
The dog leaped for the first ledge, jerking Dax a step forward. Dax pulled on the leash, dragging the dog away. “Now you sound like William Wallace. You and this dog make quite a pair.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m happy to sound like a freedom fighter. And you shouldn’t sound so dismissive of one of your ancestors.” She thought about the movie she’d seen as a kid, imagined Dax with his face painted blue and wearing nothing but a kilt, and a smile spread across her face. It would have been a good look on him.
The Bluetick faced Dax, lowering his head and backing up as much as the leash would allow.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “Let William come up and play with me.” She patted her thigh and whistled. “Come on, boy. Come join your fellow rebel.”
Dax gripped the back of his neck with one hand. “You shouldn’t even be up there. There’s definitely no way I’m letting—”
The dog’s head popped free from his collar. With a triumphant yelp, he turned and sprinted for the ledge. The Bluetick hopped up onto the first step, spraying dirt against the wall, and bounded up to where Lissa sat.
She rubbed his head. “Good boy, William.” Looking down, she met Dax’s glare. “See? No harm, no foul. You have to learn to lighten up.”
William sniffed around her spot, then leaped onto the narrow top of the garden wall. His nails scrabbled. He almost fell to the ground below before catching his balance.
“Oh no!” Lissa tossed her pad and pencils down and jumped to her feet. She reached for the dog, but he darted away.
The wall was barely the width of the dog’s body, much too narrow to be running along. “Dax!” she called.
Dax ran to the lowest ledge and leaped onto it in one smooth leap. He jumped for the next step, landed on it with one foot, and sprang off, twisting his body to grab the top of the wall and haul himself up. “Stay here,” he told Lissa and headed after William, walking the wall like a balance beam.
Lissa’s jaw dropped. Whoa. He’d climbed that wall like a large cat scaling a tree. His feet had barely touched the ground. She swallowed. It had been hot as hell.
She shook off the tingling sensation. The dog getting away might have partly been her fault. She couldn’t leave Dax to chase William all on his own. She raised a knee to the top of the wall and climbed up. Staying in a crouch, she looked up to see where Dax and William were.
Dax was at the corner of the garden, one hand gripping the scruff at the top of William’s neck. He called down to someone in the same type of gray shirt the ticket taker had been wearing. Presumably apologizing to an employee for running about on the wall.
A black Cadillac Escalade pulled off the road onto the dirt parking lot, a trail of dust in its wake. Lissa squinted. The car looked familiar.
She sucked in a breath and rolled off the wall onto the ledge next to her pack. Oh. Crap. She peered over the limestone blocks. Two men climbed out of the car. One was holding his phone up to look at the screen. He pointed toward the garden, and they started walking for the entrance.
Lissa shoved her pad and pencils in her bag and clutched the pack to her stomach. The rectangular lumps of cash pressed against her thudding heart. Dax was heading back her way, leading William behind him, and Lissa jumped down from ledge to ledge until her feet hit the ground.
“Come on,” she shouted up to Dax. “Daylight’s burning. We’d better hit the road.”
“Now you’re in a hurry?” He hopped down to the highest ledge, William a step behind. “Hey, throw up the leash and collar, would you?”
Lissa