Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1)
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Oh, the guy was actually willing to get his hands dirty, not just gaze adoringly at Sierra? “Traps would be great. We’ve got everything else covered.”

He nodded. “I’ll put the mutt in his run and be back in a few. Domino, heel.” Once off the steps, Zach stretched into a brisk stride, the pup trotting at his side.

“Now that is one hot-looking male specimen.” Sierra’s hands rested on her curvy hips.

As though Jo didn’t have eyes.

***

Zach dropped his rag into the bucket and settled onto his heels. Who’d have guessed this much dirt could accumulate in only two years? But he’d promised his mother he’d help out — in fact, that he’d do whatever he could to alleviate her worries about the farm so she could focus on Dad.

Hand
y for them he hadn’t landed a permanent job since his graduation from veterinary college. Zach cringed at the memory of his former boss refusing to extend his temporary work assignment, telling Zach he was looking for someone more compatible with the over-all business. Subtext: someone who would please his spoiled-rotten daughter. Well, Zach had tried, but there were games he would not play.

Not that he appreciated what the farm offered, either. But today was a bright spot, hanging out with a cute, shapely blonde. Sierra didn’t seem conscious of her beauty like Yvette. That disaster ought to have made him wary of women. It didn’t matter, though. He wouldn’t be around long enough to get serious about Sierra, or anyone else, whether they threw mice at him or not.

Jo’s backbreaking work detail gave him the munchies. Zach stood and grabbed his pack. “Anyone want some chips?” He pulled a bag out, ripped open the top, and extended it to Sierra, who shook her head. He turned to Jo.

Her forehead creased in a frown. “We have apples and carrot sticks in the cooler, thanks.”

Seriously? “Sounds too healthy for a guy like me.” Zach poured a few chips into his palm and tossed them in his mouth.

Jo’s eyes narrowed. “You’d rather eat junk food made by some multi-national corporation? Not this gal.”

“Breakfast of champions.” She was kind of cute, all perturbed like that. Some strands of her thick brown hair had pulled free of her tight braid and now frizzled around her head. She looked a bit less intimidating without a dustpan in her hands.

“There’s no redeeming value for your body or for the local economy in that stuff.”

Never mind about the less intimidating. She was like those whackos he’d been avoiding at college for the past eight years. “I’m sure it provides jobs for someone somewhere. Just doing my part.” He inhaled a couple more handfuls then pulled a pop bottle from his pack and swallowed a deep glug. No point in offering that with his germs all over it. Like either would accept.

He glanced up to catch a scowl pass between the two females. Whatever.
If Sierra turned out to be as much a health food nut as Jo, no loss. Fewer entanglements meant a quicker getaway after Dad’s
recovery.

A cell phone rang. Zach’s hand automatically reached for his pocket before Sierra’s voice interrupted him.

“Hey, bro. Where you guys at?”

She’d said something earlier about her dad and brother bringing a U-Haul with furniture.

Jo, scrubbing out a kitchen drawer, paused and cocked an eyebrow at her friend.

“You’ll be here in ten minutes? Good enough. See you.” Sierra slid the phone into her pocket.

Not a chance the cleaning detail would be ready that quickly, even if they made some serious moves. Zach tossed the pop bottle toward his pack and reached for the bucket and rag. He’d do what he could.

Jo opened the under-sink cupboard door, gasped, and slammed it shut. “Okay. Apparently there are more of them.” Her voice sounded rather pinched.

“More mice?” A chance to be indispensable — while not getting rodents thrown at him. Good deal. Zach leaned over, opened the door and peered in. This litter seemed older than the previous one. “Where’s that dustpan?”

Jo shot him a look somewhere between disgust and gratitude and handed it to him.

Zach jammed the pan underneath the mice and lifted it out of the cupboard. One of the nestlings fell off and landed with its feet scrabbling in the air.

Sierra screamed and flung her scrub brush, missing the mouse by half a room. She stared at it, eyes wide.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob and grinned, unable to help himself. “It’s just a baby, Sierra. I’ll come back for it after I’ve dumped these.”

“Just?” Her voice caught.

Jo peeled a strip of paper towel off the roll by the window. “I’ve got it.” Her nose wrinkled as she gathered up the squirming mass in at least a triple layer and rushed past him through the open door. “Ick.” She threw it, paper towel and all, onto the previous pile.

“Way to go.” Zach couldn’t resist a dig. “But really, no screaming? No jumping on a chair?”

Amusement flickered in her eyes. “Sierra screams enough for both of us, and there’s a distinct shortage of chairs until the truck gets unloaded.”

Unexpected response. Or was it? Not much seemed to rattle that little spitfire. Zach tossed the dustpan’s contents. “I’ll clean up out here when we know we’re done.”

“Thank you,” Sierra managed to say. “But surely that’s the end of them?”

Zach turned aside to hide his grin. If only it were that easy.

Jo laughed out loud. “I hate to break it to you, but baby mice generally have parents. Possibly aunts, uncles, and cousins as well. Getting rid of a nest isn’t the same thing as being
done
.”

Sierra’s eyes grew wide. “But they’re so dirty.”

Jo knelt beside the cupboard again. “Did we forget to post a sign asking them to wipe their feet on the mat as they came in?”

“Uncalled for, Josephine.”

Zach choked on a chuckle. At least having these gals for neighbors would provide a bit of diversion while he was home.

Chapter 2

Jo patted the long braid wrapped around her head and took a deep breath. The folks in the first few rooms of Galena Hills Care Facility had been too deep in their dementia to notice a visit from the newly hired nutritionist. Too bad their generation once welcomed enriched pre-packaged foods as though delivered straight from the hand of God. Most old people wouldn’t be such a mess if they’d eaten healthier. Probably too late to make a difference, but Jo couldn’t squelch the desire to try.

She straightened her back, pasted on a smile, and consulted her clipboard. Ellie, at the front desk, had barely glanced up from her solitaire game to inform Jo that the resident of Room 224 lived in the present, at least some days. She tapped the door and nudged it open. “Hello, Mrs. Humbert?”

An old woman, white hair floating around her face halo-like, sat in her wheelchair by a small table. A man swiveled at the intrusion from his seat facing the window.

Jo caught her breath.
Zach?

“Please come in, my dear.” The old lady peered at her through rheumy eyes. “Do I know you?”

J
o closed the space. She could block Zach from her thoughts. This was her job. She took the soft white hand in hers. “I’m Josephine Shaw, the facility’s new nutritionist, and I’m here to talk to you about food.”

Zach chuckled. “Be careful, Grandma. She’ll toss your stash of candies in the garbage.”

Thanks a lot, buster
. Jo shot a glare at Zach. Just her luck he felt the need to interfere on his grandmother’s behalf.

Jo turned her back on him and tried for a light tone. “Unless you have any free-trade organic dark chocolate in there. That stuff is hard for me to resist.”

Mrs. Humbert’s poufy hair shimmered as she shook her head. “Now that’s something I don’t have, but John can pick some up for us if you like.” She patted Jo’s hand. “Then I can bribe you to be nice to me.”

John
? Jo shot a questioning look at Zach, but he just lifted a shoulder and shook his head. She squeezed the old lady’s hand. “I don’t need bribing.” Not with anyone who needed help, and the fact this was Zach’s grandmother clinched the deal. “It’s my job to make sure you’re getting the best possible nutrition, though, so let’s keep those empty calorie snacks at a minimum, shall we?”

Zach laughed.

If it hadn’t been directed at her, Jo might have enjoyed the deep, full sound. But no. It was at her expense. She gritted her teeth and swiveled to face him. “May I ask what’s so funny?”

He waved a hand. “Really, does it matter? Why make big changes? Let these folks enjoy the remainder of their days and eat what they like. It’s not like a diet modification is going to make that much of a difference.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my job. I’ve been hired to improve the menu.”

Zach leaned back in the chair and ran his gaze down and up her. Not, sadly, in a romantic way. More like an intimidation attempt.

Well, she wouldn’t stand for it. Jo parked her hands on her hips and the clipboard clattered to the floor.

He grinned and snatched it before she could react.

Why did she always seem to forget what she had in her hands when he was nearby? Heat crept up her neck and across her cheeks as she retrieved her board from his grasp. She stared at it, trying to remember what questions she’d meant to ask Mrs. Humbert, but Zach’s face seemed to swim upon the paper.

He leaned forward and cupped his hand over his grandmother’s. “Maybe I should introduce you. Grandma, Miss Shaw is one of the people who bought your farm from Mom and Dad.”

Oh! This was
that
grandmother? Of course. Jo should have realized.

The old woman shook her head, a slight frown marring her face.

“That’s okay, Mrs. Humbert.” No need to perplex the woman. Jo patted her shoulder. “Just call me Jo. I’ll come back and talk to you later, when you don’t have company.” And when Zach couldn’t interrupt with his own ideas of how Jo should do her job.

Or just plain distract her.

“That will be nice, my dear. I’d love to visit.”

Jo turned for the door but froze at Zach’s chuckle. “Let me know if you’re being deprived of treats, Grandma. I’ll sneak you some.”

She was going to have to keep an eye on him. Too bad that would be a pleasure.

***

“Have you met the girls next door yet?” Mom pushed up the sleeves of her blue sweater as she glanced out the kitchen window toward Grandma’s old trailer. She turned on the faucet and waited as water streamed into the kettle.

Met them? Talk about an understatement. “Two of them.” He assumed the third resident had arrived by now, but he was in no hurry to meet her, thank you. Zach stretched his legs under the retro chrome table, thankful his mother was home from nearly a week at Dad’s bedside. Worry pressed her slight shoulders down, and her graying hair looked overdue for a trim.

Mom turned to face him. “How about Sierra? She’s the one who came to sign the papers a couple of months ago. She’s a pretty girl.”

Cute and curvy. “Yep. She’s got a good scream to her.”

“Scream? Why would that be?”

He couldn’t resist. “Perhaps because the place was full of mice?”

“I’m so sorry about that.” Red tinged her cheeks. “But there’s a chance for you to be a knight in shining armor to a group of young ladies. You can take them some traps—”

“Done.”

“—and remove the carcasses for them. There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t appreciate that kind of help.”

She obviously hadn’t met Josephine Shaw, though Jo hadn’t turned him down precisely. “Didn’t you know how bad the trailer was?”

“Zachary John. I’ve had nothing but your father’s health on my mind for the past ten days. Thank God they figured out what was wrong with him and got him on that medicine in time, but he’s been very sick. It’ll be a long haul to recovery.” She shook her head. “I do feel bad I let cleaning the trailer slip, though. Maybe I’ll take a casserole over in apology.”

“Just
make sure it’s healthy, or they’ll send it right back with you.” Second thought, that would be okay. Then he could enjoy it himself.

A frown marred Mom’s forehead. “Right. They’re on a health food kick over there. Sierra checked the zoning about opening an event destination for sustainable living before making an offer.”

“Sustainable living? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mom parked the kettle on the range and turned it on. “I guess they’re environmentalists of some sort. One thing is they’re planning to grow their own food.”

Another good reason to stay clear, as if he needed more. “You might want to watch out, though. Josephine Shaw is the new nutritionist at Galena Hills. I met her there when I was visiting Grandma yesterday. Sounds like she plans to shake up the menu.” Probably everything else, too, by the glint in her eye.

Mom’s face brightened. “That can only be good. The food there is abysmal. It’s bland and tastes like so much straw.”

Zach parked his elbows on the table. “She’s checking out all the residents’ snack drawers. I don’t trust her. When I helped them clean the trailer she spouted at me about eating chips and drinking pop and —”

Mom laughed. “No more than I’ve said to you for years, Zachary John. I told you they’d rot your teeth out one day.”

“Yeah, well. According to her, the whole earth will collapse on account of my food choices.” And she’d looked so earnest saying so.

“The whole earth? I suppose I can’t expect her to care about your teeth.” Mom sat at the table across from Zach. “So, tell me. Is she as pretty as Sierra?”

Zach stifled a groan. When would she let up trying to find him a wife? “Not looking for anyone right now, remember? Not here, not anywhere.”

“But you’re twenty-seven. We had two children when your father was your age.”

Yeah, he’d heard the story a dozen times. But look where that had landed his folks.
Four offspring and always too broke to go on vacation or fix up the house. The kitchen still sported old painted
cabinets and metal-rimmed countertops with no space for a dishwasher.

“You’re not getting any younger. Now that you’ve got your veterinary degree...”

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