The Desert Flowers - Rose
CHAPTER ONE
ROSE
Rose told all her readers on her blog she would be traveling for the next couple of days but would add to her post whenever possible. In addition to acting as a virtual assistant to small businesses wanting to grow an online presence, Rose had successfully established a blog relating to unusual items she’d discovered for decorating, interesting places to visit, and easy-to-prepare foods to enjoy. She titled her blog “You Deserve This.” Her followers, mostly professionals who were too busy to discover these things on their own, kept growing exponentially.
Some of her friends thought she was crazy to do this, but the blog ads had begun paying her bills, and she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, she was a social person and liked the idea of having so many friends online. It sometimes made up for the fact that she was alone. Friends told her that fifty-two was far too early for her to give up hope of finding a man as exceptional as Alec. Heaven knew she’d tried and then decided not to worry about it. If or when the right time and right man came along, she’d enjoy it. Otherwise, she wasn’t focusing on it.
As for her condo, she kept it sparsely furnished so she could easily pick up and take off anytime. After her brief marriage to a man who lived in a large house full of “stuff,” she’d been more than happy to downsize. At her age, the last thing she wanted to do was fill her home with things she’d have to take care of. She’d thought of getting a cat, but even that idea was too much for her.
She kept only one framed picture on display. It was of Alec and her a long time ago. Picking it up now, she saw the light in her eyes when she smiled at the photographer with Alec’s arm draped around her shoulder. He’d always made her feel so alive.
She set the photograph down on the table and let out a sigh. It hardly seemed possible that if what he’d said was true, he would soon be gone.
Her heart heavy, Rose packed her clothes in a suitcase, checked the condo for anything that might be amiss, and then headed out the door. She’d decided to drive to Palm Desert so she’d have access to a car if she needed it.
###
The trip to Palm Desert passed quickly as Rose listened to one of her favorite author’s audiobooks. But when she reached the I-10 near San Bernardino in California, she grew tense.
After fighting her way through the dense, fast-moving traffic, she finally saw the exit for Palm Desert and Monterey Ave and made her way down the hill to turn left onto Highway 111. After traveling a short distance past Portola, she turned right and entered the driveway to the Desert Sage Inn.
Funny, after being away for so long, she felt as if she were coming home. From the time she and Alec had broken up, she hadn’t allowed herself to return. Now, she was glad she had.
Tall, straight palm trees topped by green swaying fronds lined the long entrance into the property. As she drove up to the front of the main hotel building, she realized it hadn’t changed that much since she last saw it 14 years ago.
Four two-story buildings, each holding 30 guest rooms, 15 per floor, bordered two free-form swimming pools connected by a lazy river and a small, burbling waterfall. Rose liked how the brown, stacked-stone exteriors of the buildings seemed to melt into the desert landscaping around them, allowing the shapes and textures of palm trees, cacti, and flowering plants to attract her attention. The patios or balconies of the rooms overlooked either the lushly landscaped pools or the stately mountains in the distance.
Trying to delay the moment when she’d come face to face with Alec and knowing she was early, she pulled up under the porte cochere, climbed out of the car, and stood a moment to study the entrance to the hotel. To one side of the wide, brown-brick walkway leading inside, a large waterscape shimmered in the sunlight, set in motion by the spray of a fountain in the middle. Small, green water plants nestled in the cracks of the upper layers of the stone walls of the pond, adding a touch of color.
A uniformed bellman approached her with a smile. “Welcome to the Desert Sage Inn. May I help you with your luggage?”
“No, thanks. I’m staying at Mr. Thurston’s house. I just wanted to take a look at the hotel for a moment. Okay, if I step inside?”
“Sure. I’ll keep an eye on your car,” the bellman said agreeably.
“I’ll only be a moment. I promise,” said Rose. Now that she was at the hotel, she couldn’t resist taking a peek inside.
She climbed four wide stone steps into a central courtyard where a multicolored stone statue of a Native-American woman stood holding her arms out as if to greet each guest. Gently waving grasses planted around the statue enhanced the welcoming atmosphere. Rose bypassed the figure and walked through a wide entrance into the lobby, whose stone floors shone from care.
A short, low wall separated the front entrance courtyard from the lobby. Pushed up against it, a long, narrow wooden table held a large turquoise vase filled with a stunning arrangement of a mix of peach blooms, white lilies, and succulents. On either side of the table, large, potted green palms added a softness to the area.
The décor had changed from what she remembered, of course, but the same open space welcomed her with a view through the sliding glass doors and paned windows above them of the mountains outside. A pergola above the extended patio protected the lobby from the sun to some extent and served as shade for some of the outdoor seating.
Lobby seating areas consisted of conversational groups of couches and comfortable chairs covered in bold-colored patterns of sand, purple, gray, and green. The furniture sat on custom-designed rugs swirled in complementary colors giving the room a burst of refined color from the duller, desert colors outside. Dark-brown tables were interspersed among the rest of the furniture, making each grouping a convenient place to enjoy cocktails or coffee or as a place simply to read or relax.
Rose sighed with satisfaction. It was as tasteful as it always had been. She knew the Desert Sage Inn had begun as a small inn before the large, international hotel chains began to show their interest in the area in the late 1970s and 1980s. In 1988, Alec bought the undeveloped property with money he’d made in the film industry directing a string of successful movies. At the time, plans had already been drawn to develop it into a resort, but the former owner, Bruce Williams, had run out of money before the process could begin. However, he was willing to sell a half-interest to Alec so he could continue with his dream. Alec bought it with the understanding that, upon the death of one of them, the half-interest would revert to the other. That’s how at age 32, with Bruce’s unexpected death, Alec ended up owning the entire resort.
For the next eight years, he struggled to oversee the creation of the present-day hotel and to get it operating profitably. It was during this time that he married and lost Conchita Perez and their unborn child. He’d never forgiven himself for not being there when a fire took their lives as it destroyed their small home.
Rose returned to the hotel’s front entrance, her emotions battered by the history of Alec’s tragic loss. A valet helped her into her car, and after thanking him, she drove away full of questions about the future. She and Alec had talked on the phone, but she hadn’t seen him since she’d left her position at the hotel. Lung cancer, he’d told her. It was ironic because, after his wife and child had been killed in the fire, Alec had ceased smoking. He didn’t even like to light up a grill.
Rose traveled on a paved road beside the golf course and drove to the far corner of the property, where Alec’s large, luxurious home sat in an area far removed from the original house on the property.
The large, one-story, contemporary home spread across the desert landscape like a lazy lizard. Wings of the house extended on either side of the small courtyard that led to the dramatic, large, wooden double doors that were the main entrance to the house. Tall windows of varying widths lined the front of the house, indicating one room after another. Inside, Rose knew, every convenience made living comfortable and yet private for those who resided there. Alec stayed in one area at the end of one wing of the house where he had a small, private kitchen, living room, and master suite separate from the rest of the house. Being a social man, he liked opening the rest of the house to guests who might never suspect he had his own private quarters.
She pulled into the circular drive in front of the house. Later, she’d park her car in the four-car garage. For now, she couldn’t wait to see Alec, to assure herself that though he’d received bad news about this health, it wasn’t as bad as he thought.
After climbing out of the car, Rose breathed in the air, enjoying how much clearer it was than in the Vegas area. Then, summoning up her nerve, she headed to the front door.
As she approached, the door opened, and Alec stood there smiling at her.
When she saw how fragile he was, tears blurred her vision. He looked awful. She forced a smile and kept moving forward, though a part of her wanted to collapse on the ground.
“As beautiful as ever,” he said, his gaze remaining on her.
She smiled. He’d always loved her long, auburn hair and green eyes. Though it was a bit faded and cut shorter, with a little help from her hairdresser, her hair still was a striking feature.
“Thank you for coming, Rose,” he said, holding out his arms to embrace her.
She hurried into them, careful to be gentle.
As his arms wrapped around her, she couldn’t hold back a shuddering sob. “Oh, Alec. I hoped you were wrong.”
He hugged her tighter. “You know me better than that. I’m honest to a fault.”
She stepped away and looked up at him. His full head of gray hair was still there. He’d opted out of chemotherapy treatments. As he’d told her, by the time he decided to see the doctor, the cancer was too pervasive, too aggressive for him to consider it. Even though he’d become horribly thin, he was still a tall, handsome man with craggy features and light-blue eyes that missed nothing. Some compared him to the movie actor Sam Elliott. She understood why. They shared not only rugged good looks but a sense of unspoken authority about them.
“Do you have luggage?” he asked. “I can ask Pedro to carry it in for you.”
She shook her head. “Not necessary. I can get it. I didn’t know how long I’d be staying, so I didn’t bring too much. Just two suitcases.”
He nodded. “Sensible. I’ll help.”
Rose hurried back to her car and unloaded the bags from the trunk. Alec took hold of one of the handles she’d extended, and she took the other.
“You’re in the west wing and may choose whichever suite you want. The other two aren’t here yet. In the meantime, you can get settled. And by all means, feel free to use the garage.”
“Other two?” Rose said, surprised. “What’s going on?”
“It’ll all become clear this evening,” he said cryptically.
She studied him. “Are you sure you want me here?”
He nodded. “Oh, yes. It’s all part of my plan. You’ll see.”
“You know I don’t like secrets. Tell me.”
He shook his head. “Not until everyone is here. It wouldn’t be fair.”
She followed him into the house and into the west wing, where she found three guest suites, each decorated in a different color scheme. She chose the suite decorated in soft green colors.
Alec left her suitcase by the king-size bed and said, “Juanita is in the kitchen. Please have her bring you whatever refreshments you’d like. The other two will be here before six o’clock. My apologies. I’m going to lie down for a while. I’ll catch up with you later.”
He bent down and kissed her on one cheek, then the other, French style. “You’ve always been such a lovely woman. I’m counting on you to understand what it is I want to do.”
Before she could respond, he left the room.
She lifted a suitcase onto the bed and opened it, wondering what was going on with Alec. Two others were to join them. People she likely didn’t know.
She took her things out of the suitcase, hung some clothes in the large closet, and put other items in bureau drawers. Like the rest of the house, the guest room was beautifully furnished. She particularly loved this suite with its soft green walls and green Oriental rug, offset by dark, walnut furniture. The white duvet on the bed was accented by green, white, and rose-colored pillows that complemented the large oil painting of desert flowers that hung above the bed.
Juanita knocked at the door of the room. “Hello, Ms. Rose. I’m Juanita Sanchez. Mr. Alec asked me to see if there’s anything I can do for you. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
Rose smiled at the stocky lady whose bright, dark eyes sparkled with an openness Rose found charming. “Thanks. I remember you. After I walk around outside for a bit to stretch my legs, then, maybe, I’ll have some ice-cold water.”
“Very well. I’ll be in the kitchen.” Juanita turned to go.
“Wait!” said Rose, approaching her. “How long have you been with Alec here at the house?”
“For about ten years. Several years before that at the hotel. He was married to my cousin, Conchita. Why?”
“Long enough to see the changes in him. When did he start to feel sick? Didn’t he know he needed to see a doctor? He told me it was too late to even start chemotherapy.”
Juanita gazed at her sadly. “I tried to talk to him about it when he began losing weight, but he wanted no part of any such conversation.” She sighed. “Sometimes people don’t want to know.”
Rose felt the sting of hot tears. “I wish he’d asked me to come here earlier. Maybe that would’ve changed things.”
Juanita patted her arm. “I don’t think that would’ve helped. He’s a stubborn man, Rose.”
She turned and walked away.
This time, Rose let her go. Juanita was right. Once Alec made up his mind about something, he wasn’t about to change it. That was the main reason why they’d broken up years ago.
Rose headed outside, hoping the peaceful surroundings would help to ease the ache in her heart.
We hope you are enjoying the book so far. To continue reading...
Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved
Please log in to recommend or discuss...
