She was short, plump,with shiny brown eyes and brown hair still wavy though graying with time. Gloves covered her hands as she worked in the dirt of her still sleeping garden, tilling the ground in preparation for spring magic. She gathered some bulbs from the cart beside her and placed them the ground with exactness and covered them with earth and good wishes for speedy growth. He watched from the side gate of the garden as she talked to her plants, telling them of the loving earth in which they could grow, the spring rains that would shortly take away winter's chill, and the warm sun that awaited them when they made their sleepy way into the air above. When she rose, pulled off her gloves, and carefully brushed the crumbs of dirt from her jeans and sweater as she headed for the back door of the cottage, he admired her light step and the straight lines of her neck and back, regal even now. She paused to stomp her gardening shoes on the mat and turned toward him with a smile bringing the kissing dimples to her mouth and cheeks. "G, how very long it has been! her velvety voice wound round him in the same way it round her spell around her flowers. "Please come in and spend some time with me."
"And you wish, so shall it be," he answered as he always had. "I come now as I have in the past and though I will need your answer to me, I would prefer to prolong this time in your presence." Gwynn Chenoweth glanced at her guest as he stood before her, cap in hand. There was little to mark his age passing except for smile crinkles at his eyes and deep ridges where dimples had gouged when he was merry. The ridges moved when he talked, the dimples now a permanent part of his facial movement and no longer glimmering in and out with amusement. Green eyes rimmed in black carried all the present and the past shades of the hills and dales of the Cornish countryside and beyond. Black hair shot with silver waved around the collar of the tanned sheepskin jacket he wore over a black tee, jeans and walking boots. He still stood tall, straight, and slim as sin and her pulse leaped at the way he hungrily scann
"And you wish, so shall it be," he answered as he always had. "I come now as I have in the past and though I will need your answer to me, I would prefer to prolong this time in your presence." Gwynn Chenoweth glanced at her guest as he stood before her, cap in hand. There was little to mark his age passing except for smile crinkles at his eyes and deep ridges where dimples had gouged when he was merry. The ridges moved when he talked, the dimples now a permanent part of his facial movement and no longer glimmering in and out with amusement. Green eyes rimmed in black carried all the present and the past shades of the hills and dales of the Cornish countryside and beyond. Black hair shot with silver waved around the collar of the tanned sheepskin jacket he wore over a black tee, jeans and walking boots. He still stood tall, straight, and slim as sin and her pulse leaped at the way he hungrily scann
