Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1) (7 page)

“She’s going to desert us for some guy. I can see it already. She gets us out
here to the edge of beyond, then falls in love and ditches
us.”

Thanks for the confidence. Jo straightened her back and stretched. “Thought you were a hundred percent in.”

Claire shoved the spade into the dirt and reached for her water bottle, but a black-and-white nose intercepted. She pushed it aside before taking a swig. “Yeah, I’m in. I’m just not ready to think of any one of us being
out
practically before we’ve begun.”

She had a point. This place was beginning to grow on Jo. Thoughts of feasting on sun-warmed raspberries later in the summer and vine-ripened tomatoes in the fall... man, her mouth was watering already. Sure it was going to be a lot of work, but blossoms on the plum and apple trees flaunted their fragrance while honeybees zoomed in and out gathering nectar and pollen. So worth every
aching muscle.

Jo and Claire found a planting rhythm as the sun crept out from behind the clouds, warming their backs. The tractor grumbled around on the neighboring property.

“So the building permits are all in place?”

Claire nodded. “The inspector had some questions about the straw bales and
the roof trusses, but he okayed everything in the
end.”

“Did Sierra’s dad find enough solar panels at that auction?” Even though Sierra didn’t approve of her dad’s truck driving job, all three girls basked in the knowledge that at least one set of parents were behind their operation and had co-signed on their mortgage.

“Almost.” Claire moved to the next row. “We’ll need a few more, but it’s a good start.”

The tractor grew louder then shifted gears and turned into the Green Acres driveway. Domino was off like a spooked rabbit, only headed
toward
the danger. Jo bellowed at him, but he was already so far away he didn’t seem to hear at all.

“Hope Zach’s watching out for that dog,” said Claire.

Jo waved both arms frantically as she ran, hoping to catch Zach’s attention before Domino dodged in front of the tractor. Zach yanked on the wheel and spun the tractor hard to the right. Jo held her breath, but the machine was more stable than she’d given it credit for.

Zach swerved left again
and ground the equipment to a halt while Domino continued to dance around it.

Jo grabbed the pup’s collar, yanking him off to the side. He whimpered.

Zach nodded and drove on past. The tractor bucket clanged as he dumped manure on the garden patch, backing the tractor inch by inch.

Domino whined at Jo’s side as Zach turned the tractor and chugged back down the driveway. She kept a firm grip on the pup’s collar and lifted a hand to wave at Zach as he passed.

He tipped his hat, an old straw one today.

Jo turned to watch him drive away, tall and straight on the old John Deere.

“Maybe it’s not Sierra I ought to be worried about,” Claire drawled from behind her.

Jo swung around. “Just making sure he’s gone before letting Domino go.” She released the pup. He immediately began to chase his tail round and round.

“Uh huh. That’s what you’d like me to think.” Her gleaming brown eyes met Jo’s.

 
Even though Jo had to look nearly nine inches up at Claire, she put on her most innocent look. “Ready to get the rest of those bushes in?”

Claire snickered and grabbed the spade. “Sure. Any time.”

Chapter 6

Zach
tucked in his clean T-shirt and rapped lightly on the door of Grandma’s old trailer. He’d rather think of her here than in the Galena Hills facility, but he had a sneaking suspicion this place would be so changed his mind could never get that picture back from his childhood. Barking sounded from within, then the door opened and Domino leaped out, colliding with Zach’s belly. “Hey there. Domino, down.”

Laughter reached Zach’s ears as the pup bounced around him on the narrow landing.

Josephine. She’d taken time for a shower, too, by the looks of things. Her hair, still damp, had been pulled into a ponytail that swung way down her back when she turned to beckon him in. She’d changed into dark jeans and a mossy green top with a ruffled neckline.

The aroma of stew tickled his nose, and his forehead creased. Smelled like beef, not tofu. Not that he’d recognize tofu. He’d been raised a farm boy, suspicious of anything too weird. That concoction—

“Sierra’s turn in the kitchen,” Jo was saying. “Now if you want a
good
meal, you’ll have to come back when Claire’s cooking.”

He noticed she didn’t make any claims for her own.

The young woman who’d been working outside with Jo this afternoon came down the hallway, and he nodded at her. Taller than Jo or Sierra, and the only one of the trio with short hair, she assessed him from brown eyes.

Jo stepped closer. “Claire, have you met Zach yet? Zach, this is our roommate Claire.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Zach reached out and shook Claire’s hand.

“Same.” But she quickly looked away.

Not that it mattered. “Thanks for the invitation,” he said to the group in general. “Smells good.”

Sierra glanced over her shoulder at him from her spot by the stove. “Thanks.”

“We appreciate all your hard work for us today.” Jo knelt beside the bumbling puppy and soothed him. “Least we could do is feed you, especially with your mom out tonight.” A twinkle appeared in her eye when she squinted up at him.

He felt a flush creep up his neck. “About that. I really do know how to cook.” Would she consider opening a can or preparing packaged noodles cooking? “At least enough to get by.”

Jo pointed Domino at a folded blanket behind the door and, to Zach’s amazement, the pup wandered over and plopped down on it. Jo looked back at Zach and indicated a chair in front of the window. “Have a seat, if you like. I’m just going to wash up.”

He edged behind the farmhouse table and slid into a sturdy wooden chair. Grandma’s drop-leaf table had been much smaller, but that was far from the only change in the old trailer. The place looked a lot better than the day he’d helped Jo and Sierra clean it up. Was it really only a month or so ago?

Claire sat down across from him “This was your grandmother’s home?”

Zach nodded. “She sold out in Spokane and bought this piece of
land when my grandfather died. She lived here for more than twenty years, and my dad farmed it.” So many memories. “I’d often sneak over after school for cookies and milk. Plus she kept band-aids for scraped knees on hand.” He grinned. “I think she liked having me around. I had too many sisters and needed to get away sometimes.” And yet here he sat with a room full of females and barely felt uncomfortable.

Jo came back into the kitchen. “Your grandmother is very sweet. Stopping by to see her is a highlight of my day.”

He glanced over at her, but she turned away, her cheeks pink. Intriguing.

What time did her rounds take her to Grandma’s room? He might have to visit more often. Maybe bring some dark chocolate. Not that he was considering a relationship, of course. Now
that
was a ridiculous thought. It meant weighing the pros and cons of city life, and he’d been all over that. He’d chosen.

Domino, sound asleep on his blanket, let out a snuffle.

Zach had chosen something that didn’t include Border collies. Or fruit trees in bloom.

Jo drifted past him toward Sierra. “Need a hand?”

“Sure, if you’d like to get the biscuits out, that’d be great.” Sierra lifted the cast iron Dutch oven and carried it to a trivet on the table.

Zach’s stomach grumbled. Whatever Sierra had put in there — even if it turned out to be tofu — would be mighty tasty.

Jo popped open the oven and rescued a baking pan then deftly transferred them to a platter while Sierra dished up bowls of the stew.

The tantalizing aroma wafted closer. “Wow, you’re spoiling me. You went all out here.”

Sierra frowned at him. “All out? This is pretty basic. Even I can barely mess up stew.” She passed a bowl to him.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the fragrance. All the right mixes of meat and vegetables and seasoning. Even Claire, no matter her reputation, could hardly improve on this. Or maybe it had been too long since Zach had spent hours working up an appetite in the sunshine.

A little clink and the aroma of baking powder biscuits joined the stew.

“Would you like to ask the blessing?”

Zach’s eyes flew open and he focused on Sierra, who’d spoken. “Um. Sure.” He closed his eyes again. Where to begin? How long had it been since he’d thanked God for anything? Couldn’t announce that in front of these women, though. “Dear Lord, thank you for this good food and the hands that have prepared it. Please bless it in Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Amen,” the women agreed.

When he looked up again, Jo passed him the biscuit platter and he helped himself to three. A dish of butter followed. Zach tucked into his meal, as tasty as it smelled. For a few minutes the only sound to be heard was the scraping of spoons in bowls.

Sierra turned to him. “Was your grandmother a quilter?”

What brought that on?

At his puzzled look, Sierra added, “Oh, I wondered if she was the one responsible for the quilt on your mom’s swing. And the one airing on her clothesline.”

Ah, those. “She did some, but mostly out of old clothes. My mom is really into it, though. She loves all the colors and designs and stuff.”

Sierra beamed. “I’ve always wanted to take it up. Maybe now that we’re living out in the country I’ll have time. Think she’d be willing to teach me?”

A slight movement from Jo caught Zach’s attention but, when he looked, her focus was on her food. He turned back to Sierra. “I don’t see why not. She’s part of a club that makes quilts for orphanages in Romania. You’ve met Gabe, at Nature’s Pantry?”

Sierra nodded.

“His parents retired early and went over there as missionaries.”

She leaned forward. “Oh, that is so cool! That would be even better than making them for myself or my family.”

Claire laughed. “At least we wouldn’t have to look at your early attempts.”

Sierra scrunched up her face at her friend.

Zach leaned back, grinning. Who would have thought he’d enjoy talking about quilts around a meal with these women?

Jo pushed her half-eaten stew away.

Domino whimpered in his sleep. A light scratching sound on metal followed, and a wee thump.

Zach glanced up, trying to place it. No one else must have heard it, because they all seemed focused on their food.

Sierra set her glass of water down with unnecessary force.

Claire turned to him. “So, tell us about your job. I hear you’re a veterinarian?”

“Yes, that’s right. Just got my license to practice a few months ago.”

The scratching turned into a scuffle. Domino cocked his head.

Zach frowned. “What’s that sound?”

The pup whimpered, his gaze trained on the garbage can beside the stove.

The girls exchanged glances. “Sounds like we caught another mouse,” Jo said at last.

He hadn’t heard a snap. And dead mice didn’t scratch.

“We got a live trap.” She took a deep breath. “We weren’t catching enough of them with the kind you brought over.”

Enough of them? What on earth did
that
mean? “How many have you caught?”

She poked her spoon around her bowl. “We’ve... um... kind of lost track. Too many.”

Claire snorted. “And yet not enough.”

“Are they reproducing in here, or are more coming in from the fields?”

Jo spread her hands. “How would we know? We haven’t found any more nests.”

A good start, anyway. “Have you located their entry point, then?”

She looked at him blankly. “Um. Like where?”

“Around water pipes, maybe. Places like that.”

She shook her head. “We haven’t found any big gaps.”

“It doesn’t take much. They can squeeze through nearly anything.” Surely the girls had done a thorough inspection.

“Claire stuffed some insulation around the pipes under the sink.” Sierra poked a thumb in the direction of the counter.

“That won’t stop them. They’ll push right past fiberglass.”

“Then what?” Jo leaned her elbows on the table. “We can’t seem to get ahead of them.”

“Steel wool works. Of course there’s no insulating value to it, but they won’t chew through the metal wires or push against it.”

Claire raised her eyebrows. “Even if we block more from coming in, there are still a gazillion in here somewhere.”

“You need a cat.” Zach grinned. “Grandma had a fat old tom named George. He certainly kept pests under control.”

Sierra poked her chin across the table. “Jo says she’s allergic.”

“Well, I am!”

Zach had another bite of stew. Nearly gone, to his regret. “A lot of people who think they’re allergic can adapt to one they live with. How severe are your reactions?”

“I get stuffed up and sneezy.” Jo narrowed her gaze at him.

Oops, looked like he’d touched a sensitive spot. “You could have tests done. If you wanted.”

“We don’t want a cat anyway.” Claire shifted in her seat. “They get on the counters and stuff. I don’t want cat hair in my food any more than I want mice around.”

So much for Mom’s idea of foisting off some of Mindy’s kittens. He pushed his bowl away slightly. “That was a great supper. Thanks.”

“Oh, there’s more if you’re still hungry.” Sierra reached for the ladle. “And then there’s dessert.”

How could he resist?

***

She’d hate Sierra if they weren’t best friends. Quilting indeed. Jo had two left thumbs — she couldn’t vie with that if she tried. Her color sense was limited to whether plants looked a healthy green.

No point in dreaming about Zach, anyway. A cute guy competent on the farm and respectful to his mother only went so far. He’d be headed back to the city soon enough, and Jo’s life would go on the way she’d expected. Alone. Might as well keep it in mind.