A Farm Fresh Romance Series 1-3 (A Farm Fresh Romance Box Set)

by Valerie Comer

  The sweet scent drifted upward.

  Her eyes brightened as she dropped to her knees. “Another patch,” she breathed, crushing a few leaves between her fingers and looking around her as though calculating the number of tea cups this might fill.

  The aroma intensified.

  She might be intoxicated by the mint, but Noel focused on Claire. He needed to remember this moment forever. The look of delight on her face, the carpet of mint bushes, the ridiculous pink boots.

  He raised his camera, but not slowly enough.

  Claire’s face turned toward him. Her eyes narrowed and she bounced back to her feet.

  Moment gone. Lost forever. Noel took a deep breath. “Want to see some of the shots I’ve made today?”

  She nodded eagerly, tipping the hood back. She ran her fingers through her hair, flicking each brown strand where it belonged as she stepped closer.

  Unlike his, which normally stuck up in whatever directions they wanted to go. Noel slid the button to view and shifted so they both could see the little screen. The scent of mint clung to her like an earthy perfume.

  Focus on the camera, man.

  His gaze caught a squirrel peeking out from behind a tree. “Hold still,” he whispered, sinking slowly to his knees to get a better angle. “Come on, little fella. Come out just a wee bit more.” He drew the camera toward his face in slow motion as the creature darted out then back again.

  No time for sighting the shot. Noel held down the shutter button and listened to the barely audible clicks as the camera aimed in the general direction of the little mammal. Hopefully he lined up enough to zoom in on the laptop later and crop the image. If not, well, so be it. There’d be other chances.

  The squirrel rustled around in the leaves for at least half a minute. By then Noel had the camera to his eye and made a few adjustments to its settings. Then, with a final whisk of its tail, the squirrel disappeared up the tree.

  “That was awesome,” breathed Claire. “Were you able to catch him, you think? We don’t see many squirrels here.”

  For those few seconds he’d nearly forgotten she was there. Back on his feet, Noel leaned closer to Claire as he switched the camera into viewing mode. He arrowed back through the dozens of images he’d captured. A couple might be worth cropping, if his hand had been steady enough.

  “Beautiful.” Claire, brown eyes shining, looked up at him.

  “Yes, you are.” He dropped the camera to dangle on its strap and swung it out of the way. He slid his finger down her cheek.

  Her jaw tightened and a guarded look crossed her eyes. She didn’t retreat, though.

  Noel figured he was doing okay. Definitely some kind of spark existed between them. Dimly in the back of his mind he recalled Zach’s warning, but he dismissed it. The future could take care of itself. For now, he was in the presence of a beautiful woman who was not completely immune to his charms.

  “Claire . . .”

  This time she did step back. “No, Noel.”

  His brain scrambled for something else to say than what he’d intended, whatever that had been. “May I take some photos of you?” Something to remember her by, but he didn’t want to say that.

  Her eyebrows pulled together. “Pictures? Of me?”

  He nodded. “Maybe you could use them for your portfolio. You know, on your website.”

  Claire shook her head. “I’m not dressed up for it. My hair’s a mess.”

  Noel tucked an errant lock back into place, letting his hand linger. “Casual is great, and your hair is fine. Please let me.”

  She closed her eyes for a second and seemed to tremble under his touch. He let his fingers trace her jaw when all he wanted to do was cup her face in both his hands and kiss her senseless. That wasn’t going to work. “Please.”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why would you want to take my picture?”

  “If you could see yourself as I see you, you’d understand. You’re so beautiful.”

  Hesitation tripped across her features before she bit her lip. “I think…I think it’s probably best not, Noel.” She took a step back, out of easy reach, and pulled the hood up over her hair. “Besides, I need to get going. I’m due at work in an hour.”

  Noel’s hand dropped to his side. “I’m glad you found time for a walk.” Glad he had, too. His eyes captured hers for a long moment. He held his breath, and tried to read what he saw.

  Then she shook her head, turned, and hiked away, pink boots squelching through the minty leaves.

  **

  Claire pulled into the driveway at quarter past eleven that night, after a late cleanup at The Sizzling Skillet. Miracle of miracles, Tony hadn’t made good on his threat from last week to quit. Any time there’d been a lull she’d called him over to observe, while Don mumbled and whined in the background. Whatever.

  It took her tired eyes a moment to recognize the silver Mazda beside the deck. Right. Amber returned for the weekend, bringing her mother to meet with the wedding planners. Hopefully everyone was asleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

  Claire mounted the steps and opened the door, grateful to be out of the mouse-infested trailer she, Jo, and Sierra had lived in when they first arrived at Green Acres. Thankfully someone had hauled it away. This spacious house and farm were worth everything they’d gone through. It was worth putting up with Don and Nevin and customers who wanted their steaks done to a crispy death and turned up their noses at exotic vegetables — meaning anything more interesting than boiled peas, which they usually left on their plates anyway.

  A lamp glowed in the living room on its lowest setting, just enough light to see by as she kicked off her shoes.

  “Hi, Claire.”

  Her purse hit the floor as she whirled around.

  Amber rose from the loveseat.

  Claire pressed a hand over her heart. “Oh, you scared me.” She padded into the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Amber slid onto a stool at the overhang. “How was work tonight?”

  Claire closed her eyes to gather strength for a moment before turning to face her guest. Her client. Noel’s sister. She shoved the last thought aside and mustered up a smile. “Long. How was your drive from Missoula?”

  Amber chuckled. “Also long.” She propped her elbows on the counter. “I was hoping to catch you for a few minutes without my mother around.”

  Alrighty then. This wasn’t going to be a quick hello goodnight. “She’s gone to bed already?”

  “Yeah. She was pretty tired.”

  Claire poured water into the kettle. “Want a cup of tea?”

  “Sure, that would be nice.”

  At this time of night, she wasn’t giving the girl the option of anything caffeinated. Mint would hit the spot. Soothing after a stressful evening at work. Claire set the kettle on the burner and brought her glass of water around the counter. She climbed up on the stool next to Amber. “So, what’s up?” Mom trouble? Fiancé trouble? And why couldn’t it keep until morning?

  “At first my mom seemed to really like Shawn, but now that we’re engaged and planning a wedding, she seems nervous. I don’t know how to set her mind at rest.”

  And Claire was supposed to help how? She’d never been the mother of the bride or the bride herself. She’d come mighty close once, but she’d seen the light in time. Thankfully. Didn’t mean marriage was evil, just that she’d been with the wrong guy. She turned to Amber. “Tell me why you think Shawn is the right person for you.”

  Amber’s eyes shone in the low light. “That’s easy. I made a list.”

  Claire set her glass down on the counter with a thunk. “A list?”

  “Yeah. Do you think that’s weird?”

  Definitely. But the wrong answer. “Not necessarily. What kind of list?”

  Amber dug into the hip pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. She smoothed out the creases and laid it in front of Claire.

  Too dark. Claire reached up an
d flipped on the counter’s task light. Amber’s list had been printed off a computer, obviously some time ago.

  Loves God with all his heart.

  Has a sense of humor.

  Has a job.

  So far so good. Graham had all those things, too. But a good marriage needed more. Apparently Amber knew that, too, as the list went on.

  Is active in church.

  Volunteers.

  Ouch. That one could be overdone. Maybe Amber was safe though. Was there such a thing as pharmaceutical reps beyond borders? Claire doubted it.

  Wants to have kids.

  Doesn’t have a temper.

  Respects his mother.

  Is polite.

  Is fun.

  The kettle boiled before Claire read through the second side of Amber’s list. Any guy who met all this girl’s criteria was practically a saint. “Is Shawn really this perfect?” Claire asked as she poured hot water over dried herbs. Because that would be seriously hard to believe.

  “Almost. He did miss a couple of them.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, where it says a dozen roses for our six-month dating anniversary? He didn’t do that.”

  Thank goodness.

  Amber chuckled. “But I let him get away with it. Daisies and mums make a gorgeous bouquet, too.”

  “You’re serious.” Claire poured two mugs of mint tea and set one in front of Amber. “Cream? Honey?”

  Amber shook her head. “Really, though, Shawn is awesome. I can’t believe I’m this lucky.”

  Had Claire ever felt that way about Graham? Really truly believed she was blessed to have him in her life? Or had it been more of a friendship with some common goals thrown in? Someone she liked and respected, rather than loved?

  More to the point, had Graham’s touch ever sent her blood racing like Noel’s finger on her cheek this afternoon? If so, she couldn’t quite remember.

  The rustling of Amber’s paper pulled Claire back to the Green Acres kitchen. The other girl glanced over her checklist and looked up. “What’s important to you, Claire? In a guy, I mean. A potential marriage partner.”

  Claire touched Amber’s much-used paper. “Well, I’ve never made an actual list like you have.”

  “But you must have thought about it.” Her eyes, so like her brother’s, darkened. “Unless you’re not planning on ever getting married, but I can’t imagine that. You’re so pretty and so talented.”

  As though only ugly people expected to stay single? Claire hoped that didn’t require an answer. Amber didn’t likely mean it that way. “Thanks.” Seemed an appropriate reply for the last part, anyway. “I’ve thought about it. I was even engaged once.”

  “You were? What happened?”

  Claire took a sip of her tea. “Turns out our goals in life weren’t the same, after all.” She poked a finger at the top line on Amber’s sheet. “He did love God with all his heart. But that one —” she pointed at volunteers “— was more important than I was.”

  Amber rubbed her finger over the word. “What kind of volunteering?”

  “Dentists Without Borders. All over the world.”

  “Wow!” Amber’s eyes shone. “So many countries to see, so many people to help.”

  Claire gritted her teeth. “You might have been better suited for him than I was. All I wanted was this.” She waved her hand. “A small plot of land, big enough to grow my own food and live gently on the Earth. I respect what Graham is doing, I honestly do. But I wasn’t the right person to stand beside him in his work. We couldn’t be together and both fulfill who God made us to be.”

  “So you broke up with him? That’s really noble.”

  “More likely selfish. I didn’t want to change for him or anybody.” She met Amber’s gaze. “I’ve done some growing up since then.”

  Compassion filled Amber’s eyes. “Do you regret not marrying him?”

  Claire shook her head. “Not at all. I’m still a homebody. I still have no desire to travel the world. We really weren’t suited to each other — didn’t love each other the way a married couple needs to.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I did not cry buckets when we parted ways. I missed him, and hated letting all my friends know we canceled the wedding, but it was better this way.” Much better.

  “I just can’t imagine.”

  Claire touched Amber’s shoulder. “And you don’t need to try. If you’re certain Shawn is the guy God wants for you, if you’re in love and ready to tackle the world together, you don’t need to be sorry for something that happened to me several years ago.”

  “Did it make you say you’d never get married?”

  “For a while.” Claire stared into her cup. “Not anymore. But I’m content to stay single, too, if that’s what God has for me, because I’m not leaving this farm. I’m going to die right here, an old lady.”

  “Nah.” Amber grabbed a piece of scrap paper off a pile on the end of the counter. “You’ll get married. What you need is a list. Not exactly like mine, of course, but one made just for you. Now, what’s the most important thing?” She looked at Claire expectantly, pen poised.

  She wasn’t going there with this young woman, the sister of the guy who wouldn’t get out of her head. She slid the blank paper from under Amber’s hand and set it back on the stack. “A good night’s sleep is about the top of my list.”

  Chapter 8

  Noel folded himself into the backseat of his sister’s car. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  Amber glanced at him via the rearview mirror. “Didn’t want Mom to have to climb up into your truck.”

  Accepting a ride was a small price to pay for not having to go by Green Acres. Noel didn’t want the next time he saw Claire to happen in front of his mother and sister. They didn’t need to notice his awkwardness around their wedding planner.

  Noel patted his mother’s shoulder. “What do you think of Amber’s plans?”

  Mom turned slightly in her seat. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to imagine that drab farm looking inviting for a wedding in just a few months.” She held up her hand. “I know that foliage and flowers will make a large difference, but it doesn’t seem the structures have much to work with.”

  Amber glanced over. “Mother —”

  “It’s your wedding, dear. I won’t tell you what to do.”

  That’d be a first, but she meant well.

  Amber drove across the bridge into Galena Landing. “They’re giving me a good deal, being as Shawn’s and my wedding is their first one.”

  Noel bit back the comment that Zach and Jo had married there. It wasn’t the same when the bride actually lived on the premises.

  Mom’s manicured fingers rested on Amber’s forearm. “That’s my concern. It’s not only their first wedding, but yours. I mean, you won’t be getting married again, I hope, so this . . . Place . . . will be the center of all your memories.”

  Amber spun the steering wheel to turn into The Sizzling Skillet’s parking lot, dislodging Mom’s hand.

  Not here. Not if he was trying to avoid Claire, and he was. Of course, she’d be back in the kitchen and wouldn’t know whom she cooked for. Still . . . he tapped Amber on the shoulder. “There’s a diner just a couple of blocks down.”

  She glanced at him, eyebrows arching. “But this is supposed to have the best food. All the girls say so, especially if Claire’s working.”

  He could make a fuss, but then his cover would be blown. “Oh, in that case, no problem.” He managed to get out of the vehicle fast enough to open his mother’s car door.

  “Thank you, son.”

  The car beeped as Amber locked the doors. “Mom, that’s the thing. My memories won’t be centered around the setting, but on Shawn. This will just be a backdrop.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Amber Margaret.”

  So that’s the argument his sister was using. Noel managed to keep a grin from appearing with great difficulty. He held the heavy wooden door to the rest
aurant open. Mom swept through in her silk pantsuit, head held high, with Amber right behind her, wearing fashionable jeans and a checkered top.

  “Chin up,” he whispered.

  Amber flashed him a grin and rolled her eyes.

  The hostess paused, a stack of menus in hand. “Do you have reservations?”

  “Uh, no. Do we need one?” Noel scanned the rustic interior with its wagon wheel light fixtures and slab tables surrounded by patrons.

  “It’s always a good idea on weekends.” She looked around the space. “Give me about fifteen minutes and I can fit you in.”

  “No problem.” He’d been expecting something more like an hour after her question.

  “You may have a seat in the lounge if you like.”

  “We’ll wait right here.” Mom’s eyes narrowed.

  The hostess shrugged and turned away. “Suit yourself.”

  Blocking the doorway for fifteen minutes — or more — didn’t sound that great. He turned to his women-folk. “Sure you don’t want to go to the diner?”

  “I’m good with waiting.” Amber glanced around, tucking long strands of dark hair behind her ear. “Look, there’s an empty bench.”

  Noel took his mother’s elbow and propelled her to the alcove hidden off the entry, where she took a seat with Amber beside her. Looked a bit crowded for three, so Noel leaned against the window frame.

  “Tell me, son.” Mom flicked an imaginary speck off her cream slacks. “When are you going to settle down and get married yourself?”

  Here they went again. “Not any time soon, Mom.”

  “You’re thirty.”

  Did she think he hadn’t noticed?

  She eyed him. “Amber is only twenty-four, and she’s getting married.”

  Amber leaned back out of Mom’s line of sight and smirked at him.

  Thanks, sis. “Believe it or not, Mom, I’m aware of all those things.”

  She spread her hands on her lap, palms up, and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

  And she wondered why he stayed as far away from Missoula as possible. He could barely manage a week or two over Christmas. He’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t head home then, even though he spent most days boarding at the Snowbowl.