Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1) (22 page)

Didn’t he? Did he? The bees swarmed again. Maybe if one of them stung him he’d wake up from this quiet nightmare.

“I can’t go back to the city, even if you ask—” Her hand clapped over her mouth and her eyes grew huge. She elbowed past him and down the steps.

“Jo, wait!” Zach jumped, landing in front of her. “I’m not talking forever. Not yet. Can’t we take things one step at a time? See where it leads?”

Her head jerked back as she stared up at him. “That’s another place we’re different, Zach. I will never date a man I couldn’t see marrying. Why put myself through that? Why build up false hope?”

“But—” What could he say? That he’d stay in Galena Landing? That he’d give up his own dreams? That she was worth everything to him? He didn’t know. Couldn’t know. Not yet.

Chapter 21

“All hands on deck!” hollered Jo.

The deep rumble from down the road manifested itself into a semi-truck loaded with trusses.

Jo stood back as everyone else swarmed out the door, pulling on work gloves. She’d give nearly anything to be taking her place atop the bale walls, helping fasten down the trusses. Instead, she plunked down on the landing. In an hour someone would have to take a break to drive her to the nursing home.

Behind the heavily loaded semi were several pickup trucks, led by Mr. Graysen. Men in overalls piled out, and Jo’s roommates let out a whoop and a cheer. Tears flooded Jo’s eyes as she counted out half a dozen men she’d seen at church. This was what Jesus wanted his followers to be like.

Her mind slid to Zach and she tried yet again to convince herself he wasn’t her kind of guy. After all, he wasn’t here, was he? No. Of course, he wasn’t retired like the men Mr. Riehl and Mr. Graysen currently organized into teams. Small detail.

Zach wanted to leave the valley. Jo wasn’t going anywhere ever again, except possibly on vacation. This was totally home, or would be once the roof was on, the walls plastered, the cupboards installed, and…okay, the house itself wouldn’t be home for a while, but that didn’t change anything. Here Jo’s heart was at rest.

Or would have been if Zach had never entered it.

Rosemary hiked up the driveway, Domino leashed at her side. She shielded her eyes from the morning sun for a moment, then noticed Jo sitting on the stoop and made her way over. “I heard all the hullabaloo and had to see what was going on.” She leaned against the trailer steps next to Jo, and Domino took a quick slurp at Jo’s hand.

Jo leaned over to rub the pup’s ears. “Big day here today.”

“So I see.” Rosemary gave Jo an appraising look. “And I’m guessing you’re chafing at the bit because you can’t be in the thick of things.”

Jo blew out a long breath. “Ooh, yeah.”

“You need a hobby, girl.”

Jo shrugged and slid down to stand beside Rosemary. “No time for one.”

The crane lifted the first truss onto the walls, where several of the crew set about securing it in place.

The pup leaned hard against Jo’s leg. She’d have toppled over if the side of the steps hadn’t braced her body against his weight. He’d been putting on size. “Rosemary, what do you charge for pups like Domino? We’re hoping to run some stock starting next year, but either way, a dog is such good company.”

Rosemary looked from Jo to Domino and back again thoughtfully. “I don’t know that we’re going to raise any more. Sadie’s getting on. I used to run a decent business breeding and training Border collies, but I’d already been getting out of it when Steve got sick. Now...” Her voice drifted away.

Jo’s gut sank.
Too late
. And Rosemary would never part with Domino. He was her dog, even though Jo saw him most often with Zach, or running wild and free on his frequent visits to Green Acres. These days he’d duck under the fence and streak back across the field when he heard Zach or Rosemary whistle for him. Jo guessed she’d have to make do.

A shout rang out from up on the walls, indicating time for another truss.

Jo wrenched her gaze back to Rosemary. “How’s Steve doing?” Sure, she cared about Steve and Rosemary, but she’d have been lying if the question didn’t really mean, ‘how long will Zach be in the valley?’

Rosemary grimaced. “Good and bad. He’s getting around some with a walker now. He finds the physical therapy very painful but he’s trying to push past it.”

“So he’s still improving?”

She shook her head. “Not as quickly as we’d like. His age is against him, as is the fact that he’d had the flu not long before. They say twenty percent don’t fully recover.”

“But eighty percent do.” Seemed Jo had to be the optimist here.

Rosemary’s gaze met hers through a veil of tears. “Someone has to be in that twenty, Jo. Looks like my husband may be one of them.”

“But God can heal him. We just need more faith.”

Her neighbor slid her arm around Jo’s shoulders and tugged her close. “Yes, God could choose to heal Steve. It’s true. But what if He doesn’t? It doesn’t mean our faith is too weak. We still live here in a world full of sin.” She swallowed hard. “Everyone is going to die, Jo. I’m just thankful that now isn’t Steve’s time.”

“Me, too,” Jo whispered.

“You’re a bit like me, always trying to see how you can fix things.”

Shouts rang out from the building site across the yard, and Domino whined.

Jo shook her head. “Not to try seems like it’s giving in to the status quo.”

“True enough.” Rosemary sighed and released Jo. “But sometimes—sometimes we must remember that God is in control. We do our bit, but ultimately, it’s up to Him how things turn out. In fact, he’s perfectly capable of doing His work without our help. Even yours.”

Um, yeah. She agreed with that in theory. In reality, it seemed God often needed a helping hand. Would this planet be in such an environmental mess if God took control? Obviously not.
 

“I’ve got advice for you.”

Jo raised her eyebrows and looked at Rosemary.

“The fate of the entire world isn’t on your young shoulders. Relax a bit, and let God be God.”

***

Zach leaned on the Watermans’ rail fence, watching the calves thunder down the pasture, tails high like little flags, while their mothers placidly chewed their cud. “They’re looking good.”

Gary Waterman nodded. “Yep. Thanks for the help that day.” He pulled off his baseball cap and scratched his head. “Thinking of putting the farm up for sale. You hear of anyone looking to buy, let me know.”

“You?” Zach tried to process the information. “You’ve been farming here forever. Wasn’t this your dad’s place?”

“Yep. I still wanna farm. Gets in a guy’s blood, you know?”

Best ignore that part. “So, why sell?”

Gary’s chin jutted to the feedlot next door. “Them. Just not natural, what Leask is doing. Since they moved in there five years ago, my herd has been sick more than ever before. There’s all the bawling from them calves being cramped up over there, plus it stinks. Farms don’t have to smell so bad, day in, day out.” Gary glanced at Zach. “Well, you’d know that. Your dad runs a clean spread. Wasn’t his fault he had to work for Leask. There’s not much money in farming these days. Leastways not the way we’ve always done it. Emma and me, we’re thinking on options.”

“I see. So you’re looking for other farmland?” Maybe his folks would sell out to a guy like Gary. Good folks, the Watermans. Sounded like a win-win to Zach.

The farmer sighed. “If I get a bite on this place, I’ll start looking around. Your folks have a great spot. Someone is sure to snap it up faster than mine, what with the feedlot next door here. Might take me years to get out.”

He had a point. There was a stark difference between the calves on Watermans’ side of the fence versus Leasks’. Zach pulled away from the rails. “I’ll pass your name along if I hear anything.”

“
Thanks.” Gary reached out and shook Zach’s hand. “It’s good to have you back in the valley, boy. I hope you’ll give good thought to taking over your dad’s place. We need more young farmers around here.”

Zach grimaced. “I’m not so keen on the idea, myself. I didn’t spend eight years in college so I could muck stalls, no offense meant.”

“We’re glad to have you back as a vet. Oft times a man with a family needs a job as well as the farm to make a go. Still, there’s no life like it.”

Was the county’s entire population ganging up on him? “Now you sound like my mom.” Zach tried to smile. “I’ve tried to convince them to sell out, too. Especially since my father got sick. But they can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“I was real sorry to hear about your dad. Rumor has it they’ve traced that bug to the feedlot?”

Zach nodded. “I don’t know they can prove it, though.”

Gary stared at the Leask spread and shook his head. “See why I need to get off this land? Just can’t trust that man and how he runs his op.” Then he looked back at Zach. “But I hear your dad’s getting better?”

“Yes, but not as quickly as his doctors hoped.”

Gary shot him a sympathetic look. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, me too.” If only Dad hadn’t taken ill when he had. Then, by the time Dad was ready to retire, Zach would have been well settled somewhere else and the pressure to take over in Galena Landing wouldn’t have been as great. Or even if Dad had contracted the illness a few years later. Remorse flooded Zach.
Oh, man.
He’d never seen himself as selfish before this, but it was hard to push the guilty thought aside.

“Since those Green Acres girls moved to the area, I’ve been doing more thinking about how farming should be done. Feedlot there is just plain wrong.” Gary stared pensively across the fence. “But we were guilty of a lot of wrongdoing, too, Emma and I. Casting a blind eye to where our food was coming from. You’ll never believe it, but we raise beef cattle here and still bought all our meat from Super One. Too lazy to keep a calf back every year and grow it out for our family. We’d been selling to the same corporations as Leask.”

Had Jo — those girls — infected everyone? Zach swallowed back frustration.

“Emma hadn’t grown a garden in years. Too busy. She works at the feed store in town, you know. But she came home from that meeting last month at the church all determined to plant vegetables again.” Gary pointed toward the farmhouse. “Things are sprouting up all over her garden. Want to see?”

Not really. The mention of the neighboring women had turned the entire conversation sour in Zach’s mouth, but he needed a good escape.

Briiiiing
. Saved by the cell.

“Not this time. I’ve got to get back to the clinic. Full docket this afternoon.” Zach reached in his pocket for his phone.

“Thanks for stopping by. You’re a busy man.” Gary turned away.

Zach checked the caller ID. Yvette? No way was he answering this one, but if the cell kept ringing, Gary would wonder why. Zach thumbed the phone on, then off. He hiked over to the Mustang, climbed in, and pulled out of the farmyard.

Why would she call him? Hadn’t she made it clear enough she was now involved with Garth Draper? It had been obvious how little she cared the night he’d proposed. Thank God she’d turned him down. Not that he wanted to think about God, either.

The list of thoughts to avoid was growing. Didn’t want to think about God, or Yvette, or the farm, or his dad, or his grandmother’s dementia. Or Jo. Especially not about Jo.

Chapter 22

“There, Mrs. Humbert!” Jo balanced a cafeteria tray across her cast arm as she edged into the room. “I brought you a piece of rhubarb crisp.”

The old lady sat in her wheelchair beside the open window. Birds and butterflies flitted amongst tulips in the courtyard just beyond. She turned at Jo’s words and smiled a greeting. “Do come in, my dear. Rhubarb. Now that’s a treat.”

Jo beamed, thrilled to have caught Zach’s grandmother on a rare good day. She set the tray on the side table. “It’s from your old place. Are you the one who planted it there?”

 
“My John dug those in. Not so many people in the mountains like the taste. They say it’s too tart, but John grew up on the plains where it was much prized. I grew to love it, too, the first fruits of spring.”

Jo squeezed Mrs. Humbert’s shoulder and sat down around the corner of the table. “I’m so glad he did. We’re enjoying it very much, and looking forward to the other fruit, too. What on earth did you do with six long rows of raspberries?”

Mrs. Humbert looked thoughtfully at Jo.

Was she really in there today? She slid in and out of the present seamlessly.

“People came for you-pick,” she said at last. “And I froze lots. Rosemary taught me to make the raspberry vinegar.”

Raspberry vinegar? Rosemary had served it that day on the veranda. Refreshing. “I’ll have to get the recipe from her.”

“Sweet is good,” Mrs. Humbert mused. “But too much is too much. The vinegar gives it a bit of tang, you know? Both are needed for balance.”

Jo laughed. “Like the rhubarb. I can’t imagine it without some honey to pull back the tanginess. But some people want only sweet.” Did she have too much vinegar for a guy like Zach?

Mrs. Humbert’s gaze drifted from Jo to the bowl in front of her, and she startled. Must have forgotten Jo had set it there. She picked up the fork and stabbed into the treat.

Jo resisted the impulse to reach out and steady the trembling fingers. Something caught her eye, or the lack of something. “Where are your rings, Mrs. Humbert?”

The elderly woman held up her hands and looked from one to the other.

Jo squeezed her hands and guided them back to the table. “Your wedding rings. From John.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Humbert picked up the fork again. “Rosemary took them. They kept sliding off. John said we should get them resized.”

Jo nudged the bowl of rhubarb crisp closer, her heart twisting at the thought of Zach’s grandmother having to give up her link to her husband. What had happened to her own grandmother’s rings?

“I wish I’d known my own grandparents better.” The words were out before Jo was aware she’d spoken them.