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

by Valerie Comer

  “Mom, could we talk about something else? Like Amber and Shawn’s wedding, perhaps?” Not that wedding-speak was his favorite, but that’s what she’d come to Galena Landing for, right? It should be the perfect distraction.

  “I just want you to be happy, son.”

  “Who told you I wasn’t?” He didn’t dare glance at Amber. “I’m doing what I love.”

  “You’re not getting together with that employee, are you? What’s her name? Jennifer?”

  “That would be Jess.” He closed his eyes for a second. “And the answer is no.”

  “That’s good. I don’t think she’s quite proper.”

  Hearing that would break Jess’s heart for sure. Noel turned to his sister. “How did plans go today, Amber? Did you and Mom get anything finalized?”

  “I think so. Sierra and Claire have some great ideas.”

  “Like what?” Better to talk about Amber’s wedding than his lack of one.

  “Oh, just —”

  “Kenzie, party of three?”

  Noel turned to the hostess. “We’re ready.” He offered a hand to his mother, but she was already on her feet. He motioned her behind Amber and trailed through the restaurant at their heels.

  The hostess took their drink orders, set down menus, and whisked away.

  Noel opened the vinyl-covered list. Pretty ordinary small-town food for the most part: burgers, roast beef, pulled pork. Nothing stood out. He closed the menu.

  The waitress appeared. “Ready to order?”

  “I’m having the Chicken Caesar.” Amber snapped her menu shut and passed it across the table.

  Mom nodded. “That sounds good.”

  “And you?” The girl turned to Noel, pen poised over her small pad.

  “What’s the special?”

  “Claire’s cooking tonight, so the special is a roasted vegetable ragout.”

  Noel cocked his head. Vegetarian didn’t usually call to his palette, but with Claire at the range, why not? He nodded. “I’ll give it a try.”

  Amber beamed at the waitress. “Could you let Claire know this order is for the Kenzie family?”

  The waitress sent a puzzled glance at Amber then made a note. “Sure.” Off she went.

  “Why bother her? Just let her do her job.”

  “She’d want to know.” Amber turned her coffee cup in circles. “Don’t you think?”

  “There are several nice young ladies at that house, Noel. Have you noticed?”

  Uh, yes. But he wasn’t going there.

  “Now one of them is married, Amber tells me. The really short girl. But there are still two others.”

  Only one mattered, though. No way would he let his mother get a whiff of his interest. “Yes, they seem nice enough.”

  Amber leaned her elbows on the table, eyes twinkling. “Claire and I had a great heart-to-heart last night when she got home from work.”

  Noel jerked back, stifling his reaction. Too late.

  “Gotcha!” Amber smirked.

  “What’s this?” Mom looked from one to the other. “Did I miss something?”

  Thanks bunches, little sister.

  **

  Last time Claire went for a walk in the woods she’d found Noel. She wasn’t ready to run into him again. Not that he’d be in the same place, but the crew took Sunday off, so he could be anywhere. She should be safe enough on Green Acres property, though.

  It’d been pretty obvious yesterday evening which item Noel ordered. He didn’t seem like a Chicken Caesar kind of guy. But still, brave enough to take a chance on a non-menu vegetarian item? Impressive. Why couldn’t she get him out of her head? He’d kept her awake half the night and distracted her thoughts all through church this morning, made worse when his sister sat beside her.

  He hadn’t been there, and that should tell her something. If he didn’t share her beliefs, it was a bad idea to care about him.

  Never mind. It was a bad idea anyhow.

  Claire stood at the foot of the golden willow near Jo and Zach’s cabin. They’d called this a day off building, so no one was around. Which meant the tree house was vacant. She straightened her little pack and climbed up the rope ladder to the first platform. In moments she’d shed the pack and leaned back, eyes shut, against the great tree’s trunk.

  How had she become so obsessed with Noel Kenzie? Nothing about him matched any inventory she might make. In fact, instead of a list like Amber’s, Claire could make one about all the ways Noel didn’t fit. But that was dumb, like it acknowledged his power over her.

  Something like that could exorcise Noel from her head. What had been in his eyes when he’d reached out and touched her cheek, not once but twice? Men didn’t do that to random people they barely knew. He’d been so gentle. Yeah, pushy in a way, but when she’d called a halt, he’d respected it, though it was obvious he didn’t want to.

  What did he see in her? Nobody but Graham had ever tried to look into her soul that way, and Graham hadn’t meant it.

  She fingered her Bible open, searching for the spot in Isaiah where she’d stopped reading yesterday. Ah, chapter 55. She stared at verse 8. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways.”

  She’d been trying so hard to align herself with God’s ways, His thoughts, His will. When she and Graham broke up, Sierra had asked if Claire was certain God wasn’t calling her to missionary work with Graham.

  “No,” she’d said. “I’m positive God wants me building a farm somewhere, teaching people to meet their physical needs.”

  “But you thought He called you and Graham to marry.”

  Claire shook her head. “Only when Graham shared my dream. But God gave him a new dream, a different dream, and they’re not compatible. So we’re not.”

  And she’d been fine with her choice nearly every day since Graham had hopped a flight to Uganda. Those questions and all those crisscrossing emotions hadn’t come up in three long years.

  Now here she was, finally accomplishing her goal, and a distraction presented itself again. Was God saying her part in the farm was done? Or was He testing Claire’s devotion to His will?

  How could she know? “What am I missing, Lord?”

  Funny thing about God. He didn’t seem into speaking out loud. Claire read the passage a couple of more times and sighed. She couldn’t focus. Couldn’t shake Noel out of her brain.

  Fine then. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her pack. She’d seen Amber’s list. What was important to her?

  #1. He has to want to follow God with all his heart.

  Graham had that one covered, but he wasn’t in the running anymore. As for Noel, she didn’t know, but he hadn’t really said. If he’d been in church, that would’ve given her a clue.

  She placed a question mark beside it.

  #2. Devoted to sustainable living.

  The guy planted trees. That was sustainable, right? Kind of?

  #3. Roots.

  She’d vowed never to move off Green Acres until they dragged her off to Galena Hills Care Facility in her old age. She’d thought Graham was bad, wanting to bring dentistry around the world. Noel didn’t even have a home address other than his mother’s house. Very large X beside this one.

  Cute, funny, and polite. Noel pulled Amber’s chair out for dinner the other day. Those things definitely counted. He was adventuresome in his culinary expectations—personally, if not for his crew. His eyes twinkled when they met hers, like they shared a private joke. His hair was always a little unkempt—it could use a cut—but clean.

  He valued nature. All those photos he’d taken of moss, and leaves, and bark. She’d seen the subjects anew through a little rectangle that forced her eye to block out all the surroundings.

  He’d looked at her — and seen beauty.

  Claire touched her jaw where his hand had rested two days before. Even Graham had never called her beautiful. Not with such intensity in his voice. His gaze. And Graham was gone. She needed to stop comparing men to him,
though she hadn’t done so these past three years. Just now. Just with Noel, a guy she barely knew. Somehow she’d become infatuated with him.

  Likely it was her roommate’s fault. Sierra had the idea to host and cater special occasions. If Claire didn’t have to help plan Amber’s wedding — and now Isobel’s — these thoughts would not be so close to the forefront of her mind.

  God’s ways were higher than her ways. But how did she know which of these belonged to Him?

  Chapter 9

  Weeks went by and the garden began to grow. The second bride, Isobel, brought her fiancé to Green Acres to meet the team.

  “It’s hard to imagine what this place will look like in September, babe,” Greg said, looking around.

  Vegetable harvest would be in full production, but that’s not what the guy meant. “We’ll have our first heavy frost sometime in the month, but the days are usually pleasant.”

  “What if it rains?” Isobel put in.

  “That’s not impossible. We do have a backup plan.” Claire gestured to the pole barn. “Rain won’t be much of a problem unless it’s also windy. We’ve put lattice up around the end there and seeded some vining flowers just last week.”

  “Oh?” Isobel perked up. “Like what?”

  “A variety,” Sierra put in. “Morning glories, sweet peas, and those purple perennials.” She looked at Claire. “I can never remember their name.”

  “Clematis.”

  “Right.”

  Isobel frowned. “I don’t think those will all go with my wedding colors.”

  “They’ll simply provide a pastel backdrop interlaced with the white lattice.” Sierra patted the stripping. “They’ll go with any summery outdoor wedding.”

  Perhaps Sierra had been wise to veto the scarlet runner beans after all.

  “If you say so…”

  The gal seemed unconvinced, but color was more Sierra’s thing than Claire’s. Unless it had to do with making a plate attractive, then Claire was all over it. “So what palette are you thinking, Isobel?”

  “Black and white and a kind of dark gray-blue. Unless we choose the chocolate and rust.”

  And that was supposed to be an improvement? “I think you’ll find the lattice flowers to be a fine background for the ceremony photos, Isobel. Your colors are vivid and stark. They’ll really pop off the white and pastels.”

  Sierra shot Claire a grateful glance as Isobel narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, considering. “I see what you mean.”

  Were they going to have to plant color-coordinated flowerbeds around the property? If your wedding is black and gray, here’s the white flowerbed to contrast. Have rusts? Here is the marigold bed. Hmm. That sounded like a ton of extra work no one had time for, and there certainly was no budget for a full time landscaper for a year or two. Possibly ten.

  What had they started?

  “Can you recommend a cheap photographer?” Greg asked. “My best man’s brother-in-law takes pretty decent photos, but we’re not sure if that’s who we want to go with. Everything about a wedding costs so much.”

  “I’m sure you get what you pay for in a photographer.” There was a slight edge to Sierra’s voice. “And in a few years, photos — and love — are all you have left.”

  If they had that. Either way, Claire would hazard a guess Noel could shoot an amazing wedding. His eye — well, she’d never seen bark and moss that way before. He’d be long gone by September, but surely there was someone in town with talent. “I can check if a photographer from Galena Landing might be available for the day and let you know what you’re up against price-wise.”

  What were the odds they’d be able to get a photographer on staff, along with a landscaper? Next they’d be asking for . . .

  “What do you plan for music here?”

  Yeah, that. Claire and the girls thought people would bring their own staff and only use Green Acres as the setting. Apparently they were expected to provide full service.

  “We can put together some possibilities and email you,” Sierra said smoothly. “Are you into traditional or something else?”

  “More contemporary, I think.” Isobel scrunched her face, shaking her head. “I’m not sure this is going to work, to be honest.”

  “Why, babe?” Greg squeezed Isobel’s hand. “I thought you wanted an outdoor wedding.”

  This fickle bride probably changed her mind every ten minutes.

  “Well, I do, but . . .”

  Did Claire really want to deal with this gal for months? On the other hand, did she want to stay working for Nevin? She couldn’t blame Tony for wanting to quit. The boy threatened it at least once a weekend.

  Still . . . “We need a firm commitment by the middle of May, or we can’t promise to hold the date open.”

  Sierra sent a silent stunned stare but recovered quickly. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  Claire smiled as sweetly as she could muster. “I’m sure we can, too. And obviously we haven’t had a chance to address all the concerns yet. You’ve given Sierra and me some important questions to discuss. We’ll get back to you once we’ve had a board meeting.” By board meeting she meant around the dining room plank table with Jo. “I think we should be able to email you the details of what we can and cannot do by the end of April, don’t you think, Sierra?”

  Sierra nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, that will give you a couple of weeks to compare us with other venues before we need a final answer.”

  Greg turned to Isobel with his forehead furrowed. “We’re considering other venues?”

  “Maybe.” Isobel glanced from Claire to Sierra and back again through her eyelashes. Fake ones, for sure, at that length. “But I really want it to work out here. It’s far enough from home that Uncle Stanley probably won’t come, and that can only be a good thing.”

  “Uncle Stanley? Is he the one who —”

  “Yes.”

  Curiosity caught Claire for a moment. Uncle Stanley what? But it didn’t matter if she didn’t know. With any luck the man wouldn’t show up at the wedding, which might or might not take place here anyway. Isobel’s family could keep its secrets.

  “Are we done here today then, babe?” Greg swung Isobel’s hand. “If we head out now, I can still catch the game with the guys.”

  Wasn’t he a sweetheart? Claire’s throat constricted. Did they have any responsibility to provide marriage counseling for their clients? ‘Cause this pair could sure use it.

  Like she was one to talk, having walked away from a perfectly nice man who wanted to use his talents for God, and was now infatuated with a much less appropriate guy.

  “That’s fine.” Sierra shook Greg’s free hand. “We’ll be in touch soon, and if you have any additional questions or concerns, don’t hesitate to call or email.”

  The couple said their goodbyes and headed to their car. “I’m not sure . . .” Isobel whispered to Greg.

  Sierra waved until the car turned out of the driveway before turning to Claire, hands on her hips and a frown in place. “Well? Do you want to host events here or don’t you?”

  Claire scowled back. “Look at them! They’re two little kids who can’t make up their minds about anything. They see only a party, not commitment for life.”

  “That’s not our job. They pay us to create the wedding of their dreams —”

  “Whatever that is. She has no clue.”

  Sierra raised her eyebrows. “Is. Not. Our. Job.”

  Who’d appointed Sierra the boss? Claire spun on her heel and stalked toward the house. The sun-filled straw bale house with the deck she loved. The place she needed to keep making payments on or go back to Seattle.

  “We’ll call a meeting,” she shot over her shoulder. “With Jo. Then we’ll see what’s viable and what isn’t.”

  **

  The grub line under the tarp was mostly silent. Polly was a decent enough cook, if uninspiring.

  Noel hung back to the end of the line. He’d come down the mountain earl
ier than most of the crew to catch up on some paperwork. They needed food more than he did.

  Jess paused beside him. “Hey, boss.”

  “Hey, yourself. How’d it go today?”

  She shrugged. “Got into a steep spot this afternoon and some of the guys were whining. They dealt with it and moved on.”

  Noel grinned. “That’s what we do.”

  Jess craned her neck to see the food bins where Polly and her son dished up dinner. “What’re we having?”

  “Spaghetti and meatballs, looks like.”

  “Again?”

  He shrugged. “Seems so. She’s veered off the menu plan she provided, that’s for sure.”

  “Not fair.” A scowl marred Jess’s face. “These guys need good carbs, not just inexpensive ones. You better talk to her.”

  “Yeah, the thought had crossed my mind.”

  “Bet Dreamboat wouldn’t have cheaped out.”

  Noel whipped his head up and met Jess’s gaze. “Since when do you second-guess my hiring choices?”

  She poked him in the chest. “Since you seem too wrapped up in your dream world to make smart choices, boss.”

  That took him aback. “My dream world?”

  “Or lack of one.” Jess smirked. “Been thinking of her much?”

  Deep in his jeans’ pocket, Noel’s cell vibrated. “Not sure what you mean.” He pulled the phone out.

  “Oh, nice try, boss. Never seen you so smitten.”

  Her voice faded as Noel focused on the call display. Claire? She was calling him? Blood thundered in his ears as he imagined what might have caused this aberration. “Excuse me,” he said to Jess, turning away and sliding on his cell. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Noel? This is Claire.”

  As though he didn’t know. “Hi. How are things?” She wasn’t calling about Amber’s wedding, was she? What could have gone wrong?

  “Um, pretty good. Have you seen our website?”