Wildflower

Hannah’s brand-new SUV drove past the muddy road by the lake as she honked her horn a few times, watching the ducks, geese, and songbirds take flight. A deer looked up and saw the silver, metal mass before bolting. Dust and mud kicked up behind the vehicle’s massive wheels as Hannah slowed down to take in the familiar yet almost foreign environment.

It had been five long years, but Hannah was finally home. She was a ball of conflicting emotion as she rolled down the windows, letting the crisp smell of farmland fill her nostrils. She hadn’t told anyone of her homecoming, most importantly, her mother. A knot of nervous anticipation sat in the pit of her stomach, but it didn’t deter from her excitement.

The beginning of her family ranch slowly came into view. A sprawling two-thousand-acre ranch that overlooked the most bucolic settings in all of Montmorency County. The main house boasted 110 year-old rustic logs and modern, expansive windows that wrapped around the entire house. Several feet away was the lake house. It was Hannah's favorite hiding place on the property when she was a child. It's exterior had been upgraded from what she could see. It looked like a miniature replica of the main house in all of its historic charm.

Hannah stared in amazement as she passed the shimmering face of Hope Lake, smiling at how the old pier stretched through the 112 miles of green liquid proudly. She’d almost forgotten just how tranquil the scenery before her could be. Her eyes fell on her mother’s classic wooden boat docked to the right side of the pier; a 1959 Chris-Craft Capri 18-footer. A swarm of memories flooded her senses, like when she’d lost her virginity in that boat.

It was unusually warm for the middle of autumn when Hope Lake quarterback, Chris Sharpe, asked her out. She didn’t even know he knew her name until he appeared in front of her locker one day and asked her on a date; she nearly forgot how to speak. She remembered sneaking him on the boat while her mother was away hosting one of her annual galas. Hannah had pilfered a case of Summer Shandies, and they both got wasted that night. The very next day, Chris dumped her for the cheer captain, Shiloh Gentry. It was nauseating to think she had wasted tears on that slime ball, but it had been an important lesson for her – no horny, teen boy was worth her pride or dignity.

She turned into the long, nearly circular driveway. Anticipation jumped frantically underneath her skin as the gravel crunched beneath her tires. She didn’t want her mother to see the car before seeing her, so she pulled off towards the side of the driveway and put the car in park.

Eager to stretch out her limbs after the long three-hour drive from the airport, Hannah exited the vehicle, groaning underneath her breath as her legs and butt screamed with stiffness. Raising her hands over her head and stretching her sides, she ambled over to the other side of the car, using her hand to shield her eyes from the bright sun.

She could see the stable in the distance and whistled an old tune she made up as a child. Just as she predicted, a sorrel mare poked her head from the front stall near the entrance of the stable and brayed loudly in response. She grinned widely, emotion catching her breath a little.

“Misty!” Hannah called out.

She quickly stepped onto the grass as she crossed over to the stables. Her expensive, leather ballet flats sunk into the wet earth. Misty threw her head and brayed as Hannah approached. Hannah laughed, finally getting close enough to wrap her arms around the horse’s strong neck and kissing the top of here muzzle. Gently, Hannah breathed into Misty’s nostrils. Misty responded in kind. Hannah grinned before straightening the mare’s forelock.

"It’s been a long time,” Hannah murmured to Misty.

“How have they been treating you, girl?”

The moment felt tender. It was the closest thing to maternal love she’d ever experienced.

A door in the distance slammed, causing Hannah to jump. Here paranoia had her on edge. She noticed the greenhouse nearby. But to call it that, would have been an understatement considering it was bigger than two carriage houses combined. It must have been new since Hannah hadn’t recalled seeing one on the property growing up. She admired the sophisticated glass enclosing the dome-shaped conservatory. It closely resembled the historic planetarium on Belle Island where her mother used to take her as a child, only a smidgeon of an acre smaller.

She saw the familiar back of Francine locking the door to the greenhouse behind her. Francine had to have been around fifty-five years of age now, since Hannah remembered celebrating her fiftieth birthday the last time she was ever home. Still, there was hardly a crease or fold in Francine’s deep, golden brown skin. She turned around and spotted Hannah staring back at her.

“Miss Hannah? Is that you?”

Hannah unwrapped her arm from Misty's neck, waving to Francine as she made her way over to the troubled looking woman. Francine always looked like she had something to worry about.

“Francine! How are you?” Hannah asked.

She was finally close enough to embrace Francine tightly, causing the slender woman’s thick bun to unravel.

“You look so different,” Francine exclaimed instead of answering the question.

“So grownup. Your mother will hardly recognize you.”

“Is she here?” Hannah asked, pulling back to look into Francine’s dark brown eyes.

Francine shook her head.

“No, she went to a meeting for the Daughter’s of Asylum Harbor.”

"Bunch of old harpies.” Hannah scoffed.

Francine gave Hannah a sharp look.

“What’s with the posh conservatory?” Hannah formed air quotes with her fingers.

Francine followed Hannah’s gaze to the greenhouse door.

“I’ll show you.”

Hannah trailed behind Francine who led her back into the greenhouse. She stared in awe at the greenery around her, growing vibrant and large. At first glance, there were peppers, lettuce, and thickets of different berries.

“Susanne had this greenhouse built three years ago,” Francine said, leading Hannah through the rows of produce.

“You know how she is about food and those darned berries. She’s so paranoid about eating anything not grown at the ranch.”

“One of her many endearing quirks,” Hannah quipped.

She walked over to a lush blueberry bush and touched the leaves before inspecting the plant closer.

“Vaccinium!” Hannah exclaimed.

“Michigan winters make your mother impatient for blueberries. Oh, and look at those berries over there, Miss Hannah.”

Hannah trailed after Francine’s footsteps as she led her to a different row.

“See how well they’re doing?”

Francine gestured with her arm to a bush as wide as Hannah was tall, that sat proudly growing from a small green picket planter.

“Rubus fruticosus.” Hannah identified.

“Your mother insists on blackberries every morning.”

“There seems to be enough for the next year.” Hannah observed.

Francine changed the subject.

“I suppose I should call you Doctor Hannah now that you’ve finished your doctorate.”

Hannah laughed.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“What’s your official title?”

“Doctor Hannah O’Day. Doctor of Plant Science. Botanist Extraordinaire.” Hannah chuckled, teasing playfully.

“But you can still call me Hannah – same as always.”

“Well, Doctor O’Day,” Francine said importantly, “you and your mother definitely share a penchant for botany.”

Hannah’s attention was diverted by a small sapling, and she instantly went over to inspect it. Its bright green leaves stood wide and were soft to the touch as she reached out.

“Acer saccharum,” she realized, “Let me guess - mother insists on fresh maple syrup.” Hannah smirked.

Francine ignored her comment just like Hannah expected her too. Instead the older woman ventured into the conversation Hannah had been waiting for since she saw Francine.

“Your mother was very disappointed you went to that school in Zurich instead of Oxford or Cambridge. She rants about it regularly,” Francine said, sounding sad.

Hannah winced slightly. She tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible before asking her next questions. Even though she felt silly asking, she felt even more ridiculous nervously anticipating the answer.

“How is mother?”

“Never changes.” Francine shrugged.

“Did she know you were coming?”

Hannah shook her head.

Francine frowned with disapproval.

“Your mother doesn’t like surprises.”

“Wouldn’t you say life is just one surprise after the other?”

Hannah mused, keeping her attention on the leaf in front of her.

“Not if your mother has her way,” Francine emphasized.

With a big sigh, Francine gestured towards the main house, signaling it was time for them to move on much to Hannah’s dismay.

“Your mother will be home soon,” Francine mentioned, “we best get you settled.”

Wordlessly, Hannah followed Francine out of the greenhouse, not looking when she heard the jangle of heavy keys locking the door once more. They walked silently all the way to the house, entering through the kitchen door.

The familiarity of the space hit her all at once, and suddenly, she felt like a child again. Food cooking nearby captured her attention first as she realized what it was. She raised her eyebrows at Francine curiously.

“You’re making mother’s favorite?”

“We eat Osso Bucco with saffron risotto every Tuesday,” Francine recited like a car salesman.

Before Hannah could respond with some blithe comment, a heavy set of footsteps thumped down the back staircase, causing both women to look toward the noise. A tall, dishwater blond man with a lanky frame and bright hazel eyes greeted Hannah with a curious, polite smile. His eyes quickly looked her up and down. He paused and looked between her and Francine for a few short minutes before tucking his hands in his back pocket.

“Hi there,” He grinned from ear to ear.

The smile on his face didn’t fade, but when Hannah returned it widely, his grew in kind.

“Why hello there,” Hannah returned.

Francine stepped in between the two of them. Gesturing with her arm between Hannah and the mystery blonde.

“Zachary, this is Doctor O’Day,” Francine introduced, “Hannah, this is Zachary.”

“Doctor?” Zachary asked with raised eyebrows. “Someone sick?”

Hannah’s smile turned into a grin. He was handsome, and she’d seen plenty of cute guys in her day. There was something about him that captivated her. She couldn’t unglue her eyes from him.

“Not that kind of doctor,” Hannah quickly replied. “I’m Hannah O’Day.”

“Susanne’s daughter?”

“The one and only.”

Francine made a gruff noise under her breath, clearly annoyed. Hannah couldn’t figure out why, dragging her eyes away from Zachary long enough to watch Francine turn around and pour white wine in a pan. It steamed and sizzled away. Without turning around, she gestured to Zachary with her chin.

“Zachary here’s been with us for the winter,” she said, “but he’s leaving us today. Aren’t you, Zachary?”

Hannah fought the urge to complain about the disappointing news. Zachary picked up his backpack and laptop, still staring at Hannah.

“Afraid so,” he murmured, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“A pity,” Hannah said, as she delighted in his answering smile.

“Susanne here?” Zachary asked. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

“No,” Francine replied succinctly.

She continued tossing the vegetables and wine mixture over the flame, making leaps of orange and blue light in front of her.

“Oh,” Zachary said slowly.

His eyes drifted from Francine back to Hannah.

“Well, thank her for me.”

He walked over to Hannah, each step long and graceful like a man who was confident in himself. He held out his hand, a little twinkle in his eyes, and gave her a smile like they had a secret between them.

“Nice meeting you, doc,” he murmured.

She smiled, returning the pressure of his hand.

“Likewise.”

Eventually letting go of her hand, Zachary turned and leaned over the counter, planting a kiss on Francine’s cheek. She made a sound of disapproval but did nothing to avoid it. He grinned widely as he dodged her halfhearted swipe at him before pushing the kitchen door open and sauntering towards the shiny black town car waiting outside for him.

Hannah hadn’t even heard the car pull in, but she watched him as he walked way, wondering why he had to leave the day she arrived. If anything, he might have made her visit more enjoyable, especially since she hadn’t even seen her mother yet.

All those dreams faded as he got into the town car and slammed the door shut. It began to roll down the wide driveway; slowly cruising its way off the gravel and back onto the dirt path – leaving her without any distraction or hope as she waited for her reunion with her mother.

**If you've enjoyed reading the first chapter in this thriller/mystery series, please leave a tip in support of this creative effort. I hope you continue to follow the series to find out what happens.**