Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1) (10 page)

“Over a month no
w.” Zach sucked in a deep breath. “I’m really
worried about him. I don’t see how he’ll ever farm again, but Mom
won’t listen to me when I suggest they sell out. They’re living in denial.”

“Is that a family trait or something?”

“Hey now!” Zach lifted the electric drill and buzzed it in Gabe’s direction.

His friend laughed. “Seriously. There’s Doc Taubin needing a hand right here in Galena Landing and you’re off trying to get a job elsewhere. Have you even stopped by?”

Zach swallowed hard. “That’s what I came to tell you, actually. Talked to him this morning.”

Gabe set the Allen wrench down and gave Zach his full attention. “And?”

“And I’m going to work with him a couple days a week until he gets the call for surgery. It’ll give me a chance to get to know the practice some. Then I’ll run the clinic until he’s back on his feet.”

Gabe’s palm came up and Zach automatically high-fived it. “Way to go, Nemesek. I told you!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m staying permanently. It just gives me a couple months or so while he and my dad recuperate. Then I’ll be free again.” Zach shrugged. “Besides, I need a solid referral, and Taubin can give me that.”

“Tell yourself what you need to hear.” Gabe winked. “God can work with it.”

***

Mrs. Humbert patted Jo’s hand. “There you are, my dear. I wondered when you’d come visit me again.”

Jo perched on the edge of the bed and smiled at the elderly woman. “They lock me up in my office.”

The narrow eyebrows pulled together.

Oops. The poor old lady only had a partial grasp on reality. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. Just that I’ve been busy.”

“But I have something for you.” Mrs. Humbert struggled to a sitting position then reached over and fumbled in the drawer of her nightstand. “At least I think I do.”

Something for her? Jo leaned forward, trying to guess.

“I’m sure it was in here somewhere.” Mrs. Humbert shuffled several crumpled tissues around the drawer. “I’m sorry, dear.”

Jo rounded the bed. “Do you need a hand? What am I looking for?” She peered into the cluttered enclosure and rested her hand on the old woman’s shoulder.

“Zachary brought some. I don’t think I ate any.”

Jo’s breath hitched. “Oh, what did he bring?” Probably some chips or something to mock her in front of his grandmother.

“That chocolate you said you liked.”

“Really?” Jo stared at the woman. No way.

“Unless I imagined it.” Mrs. Humbert turned to look at Jo, her blue eyes cloudy. “Maybe it happened a long time ago. They say I live in the past.”

“
It’s okay, Mrs. Humbert.” Jo sat next to her and wrapped her arm around the trembling shoulders. “I don’t need anything. Don’t worry.”

“John brought me candy. I can’t find that, either.”

“Who’s John?”

Mrs. Humbert peered at Jo. “Why, my sweetheart. Haven’t you met?” She held her left hand out, displaying a set of classic wedding rings.

“That’s a beautiful diamond.” Jo touched the ring gently with her free hand, and the stone slid until it touched the neighboring finger. Mrs. Humbert’s finger must once have been thicker. “He must have—must really love you.” No point in insisting the man in question had been gone for twenty plus years. Apparently love — true love — endured beyond the grave.

“Yes.” Mrs. Humbert twisted her hands together on her lap. “I don’t know where he is, but he brought me candy in a heart.”

If there was no box full of candy, there wasn’t likely to be any organic dark chocolate, either. Jo stifled the twinge of disappointment. But could she do something about the heart box? Probably not. Valentine’s Day was nearly three months past, so the odds of finding one of those candy boxes still on the shelves anywhere were pretty slim. What was she thinking? Those companies didn’t put ecologically sound chocolate in them. It was just a gimmick... but a gimmick that would make an old lady happy.

“Grandma?”

Jo’s head jerked up and she met Zach’s gaze. She pulled her arm from around his grandmother’s shoulder.

“John?” Mrs. Humbert struggled to get her feet under her. “You’ve come.”

Zach crossed the space in two strides and knelt in front of the old woman. He shot Jo a look she interpreted as apologetic then took his grandmother’s face between his hands. “It’s Zachary, Grandma.”

“Zachary?” Her fingers clutched at his.

Jo, not knowing where else to look, focused on Mrs. Humbert’s profile as the old woman blinked several times.

“Rosemary’s boy. Remember?” He was so tender with her.

Mrs. Humbert’s voice sank to a whisper. “Y-yes. Not John.”

Jo scooted over a little. She should probably leave Zach to deal with things here. This was about all the familial affection she could handle without either getting all teary-eyed herself or wishing Zach’s hands cradled her own face.

“Don’t go.”

She paused halfway to her feet. Looked into Zach’s pleading eyes.

“Unless you have to. I mean, to go back to work or something.”

He actually wanted her to stay? Jo sank back onto the edge of the bed, lost in the brown eyes that met hers.

“Who are you?” Mrs. Humbert’s voice had strengthened.

Jo turned to reassure the old lady, but Zach beat her to it. “This is Josephine, Grandma. Remember?”

It was easy to see she didn’t. Not really. Jo focused back on Zach. “I should go. I’m sorry if I disturbed her. She was telling me about the candy hearts her husband used to give her.”

By the look on his face, he had no clue what she was talking about. But then, he’d only been a little boy when his grandfather died. Jo rose. “I’ll get back to my office now.”

Zach clambered to his feet, his gaze guarded. “I suppose you told her the candy would rot her teeth or something.”

“Of course not.” Jo glared at him. “What do you think I am, some kind of tyrant?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “I wasn’t sure. I think you’re really just a softie under all that bristle.”

A million emotions writhed and jumbled like living things in her head and heart. She backed up a step.

“John? Did you give that girl her special chocolate?”

Jo’s cheeks burned as she stared at Zach. Not good. She turned and fled.

Zach’s words followed her. “Not yet, Grandma. Don’t worry, I’ll find her some.”

***

“Dratted mice!” Claire bellowed as she came down the trailer steps wit
h a burlap sack in hand. “They’ve gotten into the seed potatoes.”

Jo jumped off the tire swing and headed for her. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough.” She scowled. “A few have been gnawed to pieces, and most have at least a few bites out of them.”

Jo peered into the bag. “Can’t blame them for liking their potatoes organic.”

Claire thrust the sack into Jo’s hands. “I sure can.”

“Fine then. Blame away. You ready to start planting?”

Claire let out a long sigh. “Do you really think it’s worth it?”

“What, these potatoes? Yeah.”

“Them.” She waved an arm around. “All of it.”
 

“You mean Green Acres? Definitely. Where’s the spade?”

Claire grabbed it from where it had leaned against the trailer steps. While she was never as outgoing as the rest of them, today she looked dejected.

“You okay?”

She glanced at Jo then made a show of swinging the spade. “I’m probably just PMSing.”

Jo followed her, hauling the potato bag to the garden plot.

Claire shoved the spade into the freshly turned soil and Jo cut a chunk off a potato with an eye on it and dropped it into the hole. They’d planted half a row before Jo was certain Claire wasn’t going to say more without prodding. “So what’s up? Besides hormones.”

“I’ve never succeeded in anything in my life, so why should this be any different? I’ll drag you all down with me.”

Good grief.
“You have so succeeded. You’re a good chef.”

“Who finally got a part-time job cooking in a small-town hotel kitchen.” She stomped dirt over a seed potato.

“But that’s probably the best job in your field in Galena Landing. You knew there weren’t any five-star restaurants here.” Jo wound a long potato eye around the chunk before planting it. “Seriously, Claire. You wanted to come. Didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah. I want a place to sink some roots of my own.”

“So you made a choice. I know that Michel dude wanted you to stay in Seattle. You were his rising star.”

Claire shrugged, her back to Jo, as she dug another hole.

“You
were
.”

“He only said that because I gave my notice. He was being nice.”

Jo rolled her eyes, but of course Claire wasn’t looking. “Right. ‘Cause he tells everyone who leaves the restaurant that if they ever need a job or a reference to call him any time. At his home number. Didn’t he even give you the right to use some of his recipes?”

No response.

“Claire?” Jo tossed a potato into the nearest hole and stomped the dirt back in. “What is really bothering you?”

Claire glanced over her shoulder, then turned away again and dug another hole. “I’m scared. Scared to let myself fall in love.”

Jo’s heart lurched. She should have known Claire would fall for Zachary. Jo was used to coming in second to Sierra, but it never occurred to her that Claire might be competition, too.
Oh, dear Lord, help me to be a good friend.

“He’s an awesome guy.”

The words hadn’t come out that loud, but Claire’s head whipped around and her eyebrows pulled together. “Pardon?”

Jo bit her lip and met Claire’s gaze. “I said he’s an awesome guy.”

“I heard what you said. What I didn’t hear is what you meant.”

Jo’s turn to frown, not understanding. “Zach? You said you were afraid to fall in love.”

Claire let out a shriek of laughter, slapping her hands to her knees while the spade dropped to the tilled ground. “You thought—” She gasped, and another peal erupted. “Oh man, Josephine Lynn Shaw. You have it worse than I thought.”

Jo stiffened. “Have what worse than you thought?”

“You’ve fallen for our neighbor, and you have fallen hard.”

Her mumble of protest fell on deaf ears because Claire was still killing herself laughing. Tears poured down Claire’s face as she sank weakly into the dirt.

“Well, supposing I misunderstood you—”

Claire howled.

Jo chucked a seed potato at her friend. “I was trying to say
if
I misunderstood you, what on earth were you trying to say?”

“What I’ve fallen in love with,” and Claire’s eyes twinkled, “is this farm. Not a guy. Not even Zach Nemesek.” She sobered quickly and pushed to her feet, finding the spade. “No more men for me. You know that.” She tossed the potato back at Jo.

Claire had been engaged once, and it hadn’t gone well. The guy hadn’t really been willing to settle down and Claire hadn’t been willing to spend the rest of her life living like a gypsy. No, Jo knew that a permanent home was more important to Claire than romance. It was to all three of them. They’d pledged it. “Why are you worried about the farm? We’re making our payments, no problem.”

“It’s too good to be true. I can’t relax. I keep waiting for the other boot to drop.”

“Or the other mousetrap to snap?”

She mustered up a grin. “That, too.”

“Claire, sweetie, Green Acres isn’t a whim. You know that. We’ve all worked too hard to make this a reality. For like five years. We’re on track with our plan.”

“I know, but—”

“
By Christmas we’ll be into the new house.” Jo waved at the staked-out area across the driveway from the garden. “We’ll have more room and no mice. We’ll settle in and it won’t be quite as much work. You’ll see.”

Claire leaned on the shovel and stared at Jo. “You’re one to talk, crawling around in the dirt dreaming of Zach.”

Jo shoved a potato chunk into the ground with unnecessary force.

“I mean it. You’ll marry him and go off to the city, and Sierra will find somebody and do the same. I can’t keep this place by myself, Jo.”

“Not going to happen.” Would Jo really be willing to leave the farm if Zach asked it of her? He wouldn’t make her choose, would he? She shook her head, hard. Talk about getting ahead of things. But the gleam in his eye at the nursing home seemed to mean something.

Jo opened her mouth to respond but a flash of black-and-white caught both their attentions. Domino ducked under the barbed wire fence and into the garden. He leaped onto Jo, knocking her rear first into the dirt.

“Domino, down! Where’d you come from?” Jo knelt and gave the pup the loving he so strongly desired. A faint whir increased in volume.

Jo looked at Claire, eyebrows up.
 

Her expression was mirrored on Claire’s face. “What’s that sound?”

“Tractor.” Jo strode over to the fence, the Border collie bouncing around her. She looked up the fence line and saw a John Deere chugging toward them, a faint plume coming out from behind it. She sniffed, and the air was filled with a thick sweetness that had nothing to do with spring flowers. Her ire rose. “He’s spraying.”

“But what?”
 

Jo barely heard Claire’s words — or the machinery — through the clanging in her head. How could he? He knew they were trying to farm organically here, right alongside the Nemeseks’ property. And unless Jo missed her guess — which wasn’t possible — that stench was not from an organic source.

She pressed down on the middle wire, climbed through the fence and stood, arms akimbo, staring at the tractor grinding its way toward her, a man with a straw cowboy hat on his head instead of the usual newsboy cap. Didn’t fool her. She still knew who it was.

Zachary Nemesek.

Traitor.

Chapter 9

Zach shifted on the tractor seat. The thing he’d always hated most about driving a farm rig was the twist in his back as he tried to keep an eye on the equipment behind and the furrow ahead. He’d be up for a lengthy hot shower later to undo the kinks.

His longing thoughts turned to the weight room, pool, and hot tub in his apartment building in Coeur d’Alene. Those jets would feel awesome tonight. He probably ought to give up his unit, though his mom used it sometimes when she was down visiting Dad for a few days. Who knew when he’d be back in the city? Not for a couple months, maybe more, depending on how quickly his dad and Wally Taubin recovered. The good vet must be pushing sixty by now. Zach racked his brain. Maybe more. He hadn’t been all that young when Zach used to hang out at the clinic as a teen.