Harvest Moon (6 page)

“Garden mobile?”

“It’s how she gets between her gardens. Have a seat— I’ll be a minute.”

As Kelly hurried out the back door, Lief didn’t go far. He pulled out one of the stools at the work island and just looked around. For some reason, all the messy pots and bowls around the large kitchen made him feel at peace. Ever since growing up on a farm with a lot of siblings and hands, a busy, messy kitchen full of good smells always made him feel safe and protected. And the sight of ten pies cooling on the table was familiar as well—his mother always baked en masse, sharing with family, friends, neighbors, anyone.

Kelly was back quickly. “Jill has just been kicking around the pumpkins, squash and melons. She’s right outside. While you have your tour, I’m going to clean up my mess.”

He stood. “If you wait, I’ll help. I had good training. I’m a good kitchen cleaner.”

“Maybe you’ll get your chance another time. Go on—she’s waiting for you.”

Even though Lief was more interested in the chef than the landscape, he really got into his tour. Jill drove him around acres of land that was partially prepared for organic farming. A winter crop had been started; she was drying seeds from her own fruits and vegetables for the next season’s crop, and she’d started building retaining walls to use like steppes to level the slope of the hill to maximize her planting space in the spring.

The fall harvest of pumpkins, melons and squash was amazing—pumpkins that could indeed make Cinderella’s carriage.

“I’m saving the really big ones from Kelly so the town kids have a crack at them. She has a pumpkin soup she can’t wait to get to and so I’m pushing the smaller ones at her. And these huge zucchini and winter squash—it’s more experimental than anything. Come on, let’s go see what Colin’s painting. This morning he was working on a herd of elephants. He’s just back from shooting the Serengeti—lots of beautiful big game.”

The sunroom on the second floor of the house stretched the length of the building across the roof of the back porch. That was where Colin liked to paint because the light was good. The paintings—ranging from wilderness art to big African game—were astonishing. Also in that sunroom were a sectional, entertainment center and large flat-screen TV—their living room, or a reasonable facsimile.

Lief was fascinated by the creativity in this house. Jillian stretched her imagination in the garden, Colin painted incredible animals from all over the globe, and Kelly was cooking. Today it was pies, but tomorrow it could be dishes that might only be found in a five-star restaurant in San Francisco.

“Come on, Lief,” Colin said. “Let’s get a beer and sit on the back porch. Jilly has to shower off the garden and Kelly is working on making me the shape of Santa Claus. We’re on our own.”

“I feel like I should help somehow,” Lief said. “I dropped by unexpectedly and now I’m even going to be fed and entertained. Maybe I could hose off the gardening equipment or wash the pots.”

Colin just laughed at him. “What I’ve learned is—these girls are going to do exactly what suits them and the best thing for you to do is stay out of the way.” When they got to the kitchen, Colin opened the refrigerator and surveyed the contents. “We have ‘near beer’ and high-test. What’s your pleasure?”

“The real deal, by all means,” Lief said. “How did you stumble into this nirvana?”

Sitting on the back porch in perfect October weather, Lief heard about how Colin came to Virgin River after being retired from the army, a place to recover after a helicopter crash while Jillian had escaped a corporate job in Silicon Valley. They found each other by accident, but in a town of roughly six hundred, they were bound to meet. It was the falling-in-love part that was extraordinary. “I’m not a young guy,” Colin said. “I don’t think Jilly would be offended to hear me say I’ve met a few women—quite a few. I lived a transient, military life and wasn’t ever tempted to settle down. But Jilly? She makes me want to grow my roots
deep.
”

“Sounds serious,” Lief observed.

“Oh, I’m serious about Jilly. But we’re winging it for right now—just one day at a time. What about you? How did you end up in a place like this?”

He retold the story—wife died, daughter having a hard time of it, needing a smaller, friendlier town than L.A., trying to get past the rough patch of losing a wife and mother, fresh start. The question about what he’d done in L.A. didn’t come until later, when they were all sitting down to dinner together. “I’m a writer,” he said.

“As in newspaper?” Kelly asked.

Right then he suspected he was completely safe from any kind of notoriety. “No, as in script writer.”

“Seriously?” Jillian asked. “Like TV or something?”

“Something like that. Movies, actually,” he said.

“How interesting,” Kelly said. “I haven’t seen a movie in years. Well, I sometimes see them after the Academy Awards, when they finally make the cable networks. I’ve been held hostage in kitchens since I was eighteen.”

“And I was taken prisoner by a software manufacturer,” Jill said.

“I’ve been either in Afghanistan or the hospital. You don’t write war movies, do you? I only go for war movies.”

Lief smiled. “Nah. Mostly just family stuff. Kind of ‘coming of age’ stuff.” He was completely safe. Even if they’d heard of the films, they would never have heard of him, which was absolutely perfect. “This is the best lamb I’ve ever tasted. And these potatoes—fantastic. I grew up on a potato farm in Idaho and I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I was missing one or two things, but I think it all worked out.”

“Look out, Lief,” Colin warned. “She’s a little hard on the waistband.”

“You could take it easy,” she suggested. “You don’t have to stuff yourself.”

“Then stop making everything so good!” Colin argued.

Although Kelly was prepared to clean up her kitchen and Lief offered to help, they were pushed away by Jill and Colin. They took cups of hot coffee out to the back porch and enjoyed a cold fall evening. The sky was clear and peppered with a million stars; there was no wind, but the temperature had dropped significantly.

For a long time they sat in silence, enjoying the clean air, clear sky and hot mugs in their hands. Finally it was Lief who said, “This is a wonderful, artistic house—the growing, painting, creating in the kitchen…”

“And beautiful,” Kelly confirmed.

“Will you stay awhile?”

She shrugged before she said, “Jill and Colin are kind of new together. They’ve only been a couple since summer. I don’t want to cramp their style, if you get my drift.”

“You think they need privacy,” he said.

“All new couples need privacy.”

“I don’t know about Jill, but Colin seems to enjoy having you in the kitchen.”

“Don’t get me wrong, no one is making me feel like I should move on. But I’m thirty-three—and I don’t want to live with my sister for the rest of my life. I need a little time to get over—” She stopped to think. Get over
La Touche?
San Francisco? Luca? Her disastrous treadmill? “I think a brief vacation is in order. Then I’d better get on with things.”

“Well… I hope it isn’t too brief,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind a chance to get to know you better.”

She chuckled. “That almost sounded like a flirt. From a Disney kind of guy…?”

He turned in his chair to look at her. “Is that how I seem?”

“Isn’t it what you said? Movies for families? Disney comes to mind…”

He smiled just slightly. “And you?” he asked. “Betty Crocker?”

“Ack! Please!” she said. But then she laughed. “All right, all right. I shouldn’t make rash judgments. I’ll be here for at least a couple of weeks, and that’s if finding my next position is
very
easy.”

“After eating your dinner tonight, not to mention the pie, I’m sure you’re going to find the next gig pretty quick.” He took a sip of his coffee, then glanced at his watch. “I should go. I have to pick up Courtney before she wears out her welcome. It’s her first visit to her friend’s house.”

“You act like you can’t trust her at all,” Kelly observed.

“I can’t. Like I said, she’s had a real struggle since her mom died.” He stood. “But we’ll get through this, one way or another. A normal girlfriend from an average family could go a long way to helping that effort.”

Kelly stood also. “Is this her first
normal
friend?”

“Her name is Amber. I talked to her folks to be sure the after-school and dinner invitation was cool with them. They’re farmers with three grown and married sons and grandchildren. I got the impression Amber is the caboose—an afterthought, maybe. Courtney describes her as kind of dorky but nice. A couple of nights ago I left her alone for two hours and went home to find her with a seventeen-year-old guy who brought beer and was liberating the DVDs from my entertainment center while Courtney was in the bathroom.” He smiled just slightly. “Dorky Amber sounds like a dream come true.”

“Lord above!”

“Yeah, one thing after another,” he lamented. “But imagine losing your mother at only eleven years old.”

“I lost my parents pretty young,” Kelly said. “I understand that it can be hard. But I have to admit, I know almost nothing about kids. Especially teenagers.”

“Have you thought about having a family?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not really. I always thought the subject might come up if I ever met the right guy.”

“You thought you had,” he reminded her.

“Uh-huh—and he was fifty years old with five grown children. The thought that I wouldn’t have children never even bothered me. Being a mother was never a driving urge.” Then she smiled. “I wanted a restaurant.”

He smiled back. “They probably don’t talk back as much.”

“Oh, you don’t know restaurants!”

“It was really nice of you to invite me to stay, even though I dropped in without notice. I enjoyed myself. And the food…” He rolled his eyes skyward. “I like to cook, but I’d be embarrassed in front of you.”

“We’ll get you over that. Take a pie to dorky Amber’s house as a thank-you. Maybe we can get Courtney invited back, free you up for an encore meal.”

“I’ll take you up on that. I admit, I need all the help I can get.”

Lief and Kelly passed through the kitchen. When they gathered up a pie for Amber’s parents, Lief scored one for himself, as well. He said good-night to Jill and Colin, and they each carried a pie out the front door. Lief opened the passenger door and put the pies on the floor of the truck, suggesting that as the safest place. Then he closed the door to face her. She put out her hand to say good-night.

He took the hand, pulled and brought her into his embrace. Turning with her in his arms, he pressed her up against the closed door of the truck and, for just one blissful moment, held her there. “God,” he said, feeling everything he thought he might feel if he could hold her body against his. Plush, erotic, sweet. He put a finger under her chin to lift it, then kissed her—just a brief kiss. Her eyes were round and large, watching his. So he went for it, covering her mouth in a powerful kiss, a penetrating kiss. He urged her lips open; ah, she was delicious. And when he felt her arms come around him to keep him close, the arms of this brokenhearted woman, he tasted victory, as well. His desire escalated and suffused his entire being.

He moved his lips just a fraction of an inch from hers. “You taste even better than the pie.”

“Wow,” she said. “Nothing Disney about you.”

He plunged his fingers into her silky blond hair, tilting her head back so her mouth was slightly open and ready. He took that mouth once more, amazed by how natural it felt. When he pulled away, he said, “That was the point I hoped to make. Is tomorrow too soon to see you again?”

She shook her head, her eyes still round.

“Good.” He gave her another short kiss.

“I’m working on blackberries,” she said a little breathlessly.

He smiled at her. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow. No 1950s Betty Crocker about you.”

She grinned at him. “Toldja.”

Courtney’s dinner experience at the Hawkinses was very different from those she had at home with Lief. Amber’s older brother, Rory’s dad, came to dinner with another of his kids because his wife was working. It was a pretty full and loud table, and the food was more country than she got at home—pork chops, mashed potatoes with dark gravy and greens. She never got gravy at home—Lief used a minimum of fats in his cooking.

Courtney was seated next to Hawk, and he was in her business the whole time. While she was putting the gravy on her mashed potatoes, he leaned over, pointed and said, “You missed a spot.” When she passed on the greens he said, “You’re gonna want to try those.”

“Because they’re vegetables?” she asked.

“Naw. You can get your vitamins from ice cream for all I care. Because they’re good. Nothing in the world like Sinette’s greens.” He put a small dollop on her plate. “First off, she grows ’em. Then, she makes ’em with bacon grease and garlic. Have one tiny taste, then if you pass on ’em, you can have more potatoes.”

That made her lift her eyebrows. It wasn’t like
If you don’t eat your vegetables, no dessert.
The greens were delicious.

“There,” he said. “Know what I’m talking about, don’t I?”

After dinner and dessert, Amber and Courtney finished up their homework from other classes. It was the first time Courtney had all her homework done, and done well, since school had started the end of August.

Then Lief came, bearing gifts. “A friend of mine made ten rhubarb pies today and a couple came my way. This is for you,” he said, putting it in Sinette’s hands. “She—my friend—said to try it and if your rhubarb pie is better, she’ll need a recipe exchange.”

Sinette laughed. “Well, she better be at the top of her game because my recipe came from my grandmother!”

So Lief asked Amber’s parents how homework had gone when what Courtney believed he meant was,
Was Courtney bad? Did Courtney make trouble?

“I think they’re all caught up and Amber said it helped. She’s had a time with that algebra!”

In the car on the way home, Courtney said, “So, who is this
friend?
”