Seasons of Love (7 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Goddard

BOOK: Seasons of Love
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“Let’s see. His words exactly were, ‘My granddaughter’s as smart as a whip.’ ”

She jerked her face from the window to stare at Zane, looking for a trace of sarcasm. The warmth in his eyes coaxed her suspicions away.

“He’s right. Riley O’Hare has everything under control because she hired a consultant to get things moving,” he said then winked.

Her spirit surged with hope. She grinned at him. “I have to admit… you’re good.”

Zane strolled next to Riley as she pushed a napping Chad in a big-wheeled jogging stroller along a dirt path toward the cranberry beds. Her hair appeared lighter in the sunshine. It bounced at her shoulders with each step she took. The breeze swept a few errant strands across her face.

She flashed a smile his way. “I have to be honest with you. With myself. I’m starting to realize that I don’t know anything about the business of cranberry farming. I think Grandpa has expectations because I have a business degree. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

The undeveloped road swerved to the right, and they followed its course. A lush green meadow surrounded by ancient oaks extended for several acres to Zane’s left.

“I’m sure you know more than you think,” he said.

“I practically grew up here. Lived here most of the time in the summer. Of course, during harvest season, everyone pitched in. But I only saw things from a child’s point of view. I came out a few times as an adult. I realize there is much more to running a farm now that I’m living here.”

Riley sounded winded, so Zane grabbed the handles. “Here, let me.”

She relinquished control and stepped to his side without disturbing their cadence. “I should be in better shape than this. But I haven’t exercised in a few months. It’s amazing how quickly you can get out of shape.”

Zane stared straight ahead, focusing on the road. He’d noticed Riley’s slender, appealing figure. He chided himself for allowing his thoughts about her to veer from anything other than business—something he struggled with, the more time he spent with her.

“I can tell you the basics. My great-grandfather purchased the eighty acres that is now Sanderford Farms. There’s only about ten acres producing cranberries, a pond, thirty or forty acres of woodland. I’m not sure on all of the numbers, but Grandpa knows, and he can tell us. Plus there’s a reservoir for use with the bogs. It’s quite a process. Actually, now that I think about it, Grandpa should be showing both of us all of this. I haven’t exactly had the time to refresh myself with the details.”

The young woman had already faced quite a challenge, yet she appeared to stand ready to tackle another. Zane felt a rush of admiration for Riley and drew a deep breath.

“Oh, so now you’re getting winded. Let me take it, then. We’re almost there anyway. Look, you can see the dikes,” she said.

They strolled to stand on heaped-up dirt surrounding the cranberry beds. Sprinklers doused the plants with water.

“All that green covered with pink and white flowers you see is the cranberry runners. Surprising how thick they grow, isn’t it?” Riley shook her head, her expression bright, beautiful.

Zane scrambled down the dike and stepped over the irrigation pipe to take a closer look. He stared in awe at the millions of shiny red-green leaves, swelling up the runners. “Truly amazing. I’ve spent most of my time in office buildings, working in front of a computer. I regret that I haven’t taken more time to enjoy nature.” The fresh air and the vegetation had a calming, therapeutic effect on him. Yet it was Riley’s youthful excitement that fascinated him.

“Grandpa started dozing new beds in April. He said it had taken too long because he had to make sure they were level and he wasn’t experienced in using a laser level.” Riley laughed. “But he’s trying.”

She continued strolling. “Then he’d spread six inches of clay over them for the first layer. But that’s when the dozer broke down. We’ve still got to put down six to eight inches of organic material like loam or peat, then sand. That’ll take weeks, so depending on how long it will take that mechanic you hired to repair our dozer, I think we may miss planting new fields for this season. Even so, any new vines would take at least five years to give us fruit.”

Her words stunned him. He hadn’t considered that it would take so long; he’d hired a mechanic without doing much research. The news that he’d miscalculated goaded him. “Then why were you trying to hire a mechanic yesterday?”

“What? I’m not saying it’s the way things will go. I just don’t know. But we can always try. We don’t want to lose an entire planting season.”

Impatience threatened to rob Zane of enjoying the farm tour and Riley’s presence. He felt for his cell in his pocket as he considered the possibility of getting a new dozer.

Chad squirmed, waking up. Riley handed Chad his drink then stood to face Zane. He’d learned his lesson and felt certain that she would not approve of the purchase. With his limited knowledge, it would be an impulsive action at best.

“I think Grandpa wishes he could diversify into every aspect of cranberry processing. But that is beyond the realm of possibility to me.”

A chill of exhilaration raced through Zane. It amazed him how the idea of expanding this farm excited him. Riley’s jade eyes peered at him as though questioning his thoughts. A slight grin spread over her lightly freckled cheeks. She wore minimal makeup, enough to accentuate her eyes and lips. He thought her face was flushed from the exercise, but the red on her cheeks deepened.

She looked away from him. “I’m not sure what you do and don’t know about cranberries. So just ignore me if I tell you something that you already know. But these are not actually real bogs in the true sense. The cranberries have to be dry while they grow in the peat and sand. It’s only during the harvest that the bogs are flooded and the cranberries float to the top. That’s why they’re called bog rubies.”

“I didn’t realize that. See, you know more than you think.”

“Well, I’ve helped with harvest over the years as often as I could, even after we moved to California. I’ve been researching on the Internet late at night, too, to help fill in the blanks.” She grinned.

Chad threw his cup on the road, and Riley huffed. While she leaned over to pick it up, Zane released the child from the captivity of his stroller. Chad delighted in running in circles.

Zane studied Riley then said, “I know that harvest season is in October, right?”

“Yes, the bogs are flooded. That’s when all of the equipment is put into use and the extra workers are needed.”

“Well then, we’ve got some time. It’s only the end of June.” Zane cringed at his words. He hadn’t planned to work here through October. He needed to resolve if and why John was murdered—and find his missing software—before then. If only he knew what he was looking for.

He watched Riley hold hands with Chad as they danced around in a circle, trusting and innocent. He could potentially resolve the mystery if he told her of his suspicion of John’s murder and asked her to tell him what John had sent. He’d made a mistake. He should have presented her with his suspicions yesterday, instead of this plan to help her. But it wasn’t a scheme; he was genuinely pleased to think of making the cranberry farm an operation that she and her grandfather could be proud of.

If he solved the puzzle surrounding John’s death today, he would still want to do that.

But he couldn’t stand to think of the outcome of relating his suspicions. The woman juggled too many things already. She didn’t need or deserve to have fear heaped onto her already-full plate. An unpleasant thought occurred to him, causing his heart to palpitate. How would Riley react when she learned of his deception? He pushed the anxiety away, out of his mind. No, he would try to discover the truth on his own, protect her for the time being.

John would have sent something ordinary, and only a person aware that the item was a clue to a puzzle would think to engage in solving it. He didn’t think Riley had known her brother long enough to be aware of that side of him, but he wasn’t sure.

“What are you thinking about?” Her pleasant voice brought him back. “You can’t fool me. I see those wheels turning.”

She stopped playing with Chad and drew him into her arms then came to stand before Zane. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

Surprised, he said, “You know me that well already? I need to be more careful.”

He turned to face the road back to the house and office. “We should get back.”

“But I haven’t shown you the equipment or pump.”

“I’ve seen all I need to see for now.” He knew his words came out cold, and her confused expression cut him to the core. Though he was connected to Riley and cared about her because she was John’s sister, he was beginning to have feelings of a different nature for her. And it scared him. He’d already lost everyone he’d ever cared about.

seven

After lunch, Riley went back to explore the farm. She’d lost track of time, and as a result, they would have to eat a late dinner. While she stored the stroller in the mudroom, Chad wandered through the entryway to the kitchen. She trailed behind him then marched to the sink to wash her hands and splash water over her face.

“Juice, juice…” Chad pointed to the plastic apple juice container she’d left on the counter earlier. Only it was empty.

“I’m sorry, it’s all gone. How about water?” She filled his cup with the filtered bottled water she’d purchased. Every time she watched Grandpa drink from the tap, she squirmed. She wasn’t accustomed to drinking the hard water on the farm.

The child took a sip then threw the cup on the floor, shaking his head. “No. I want juice.”

Riley huffed and lifted Chad, hoping to distract him. “How about milk?” She set him in the high chair and buckled him in. “Better yet, how about chocolate milk?” At the moment, she didn’t want to risk his discontent with her new suggestion and would try anything to please him.

Tired and frustrated, she allowed her mind to think about her life in California. After a long day, she had time to kick off her shoes and recuperate, even though she had brought work home. Things were different with a child.

She opened the freezer to rummage through its offerings. Grandpa stomped his boots outside before entering the mudroom. He appeared in the kitchen wearing socks, his clothes covered with grease and dirt.

Riley gasped. “Grandpa. You look a mess.”

“The irrigation pump’s broken. It’s beyond repair, so I’m going to need a new one.”

She closed her eyes at his statement. Everything was breaking at once. She stifled her desire to ask him if he’d replaced or upgraded anything in all these years. She was here to help, not hurt.

“I’ve got to get cleaned up. Say, you wouldn’t mind popping in a frozen dinner for me, would you?” he asked.

Riley stared at the diminishing contents of the freezer. “You know, I need to do some shopping. I’m sorry that we’ve been eating everything. I need to share the responsibilities; I just haven’t had time.”

Though she’d decided to live in her grandfather’s house and divide the expenses, she hoped to have a place of her own at some point.

“Grandpa, what do you like to eat?” She glanced at the tray standing by his favorite recliner in the living area. “You can’t exist on TV dinners all the time.”

“If you want to cook something for you and Chad, I might share a bite with you.” He grinned. “Whatever you decide will be fine with me.”

After washing his hands with grime-removing soap, he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the faucet. She would have to encourage him to clean up in the bathroom. Maybe she could talk him into drinking purified water, too.

He emptied the glass then sighed. “You know, your grandmother did all the cooking. I never learned. Since it has been just me here, it hasn’t been worth the effort.” He headed through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

Great, just great.
Not only was she going to raise a child and run a farm; she’d have to learn to cook. She understood her grandfather’s sentiment, because she hadn’t made the effort to cook for herself much, either, but she’d soon have to pick up the skill. She looked over at Chad, who busied himself with the empty plastic juice bottle he’d somehow managed to reach from the counter.

“I’m sorry, I forgot all about your chocolate milk.” Riley retrieved the jug from the fridge and noticed this would be Chad’s last cup until she went to the store. Unless, of course, he was willing to accept water. Maybe she could stretch it into two cups if she only poured him half. She stirred in some chocolate syrup, something she kept on hand for stressful moments. After handing the cup to Chad, she poured a spoonful of the delightful syrup and stuck it in her mouth.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sweet taste, willing the stress away. “Mmm.”

Zane’s words about getting help with Chad came back to her as she watched the two-year-old sip with delight. He looked at her, his eyes wide with pleasure.

“Good, isn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded.

Her heart ached at the thought that Zane could be right. If only she had a little help with the child, she could get on top of things around the farm. Who was she kidding? She needed to work on more than the business. The boy needed decent, healthy food. Fruits and vegetables. Her shoulders sagged as she leaned against the counter. So far she’d been a complete failure as his guardian.

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