Lovelock's Arc

Chapter 1 of 13

Lovelock crouches beside the wild rose plants behind her workshop, touching brown leaves that should be pink. The stems are drying from the roots up. Without these plants, she can't make the signature dye that keeps her hair bright and her textile pieces selling in Sedona. She walks to the small shack where she tests new plants. Inside, mason jars line a wooden bench. Each jar holds dried petals from her grandmother's collection—the old roses that gave her the formula years ago. She pulls three jars down and arranges them next to empty test bowls. If the wild roses are dying, she needs a backup source fast. The Sedona boutique expects twelve pieces by next month. She crushes petals from the first jar and adds hot water. The liquid turns pale coral, not the deep pink her customers recognize. The second jar yields orange. The third barely colors the water at all. None of these will work. She writes the results in her notebook with exact measurements and dates—losses that have a story get tracked precisely. Lovelock sets the jars back on the shelf and locks the shack door. Tomorrow she'll drive to the botanical supply in Prescott and ask about cultivated roses. The wild plants might be gone, but the farm market she's building depends on her keeping this color alive. She learned long ago that when one rope snaps, you braid two more.