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

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A Farm Fresh Romance Series 1-3 (A Farm Fresh Romance Box Set) Page 35

by Valerie Comer


  He’d looked straight into her soul and captured a piece of it. Her soul, not her heart. That she guarded, at least she always had before. Still, looking at these photos, the way Noel saw her, she felt exposed. He’d seen far more than she’d intended. “I think you should delete those.”

  Noel pulled the camera back, a shocked expression on his face. “Not a chance.”

  “I asked you for photos of the farm for the website, not an album of Claire Halford.”

  “Some of these would be awesome for your site.”

  Yeah, right. Good thing he didn’t have the passwords to upload them himself. He’d do it, too.

  “When do you need the images by? You’ll want some from other seasons, too, won’t you?”

  She bit her tongue. How many more seasons would he be here for? The tree-planting contract had been for three months, with one gone. “Just email me the best ones as you have them, in the highest resolution possible. If you can take them over a longer period of time, that would be great.” But she wouldn’t count on him.

  Not for photos, not for anything.

  Noel’s eyes gleamed. “I’ll need your email address.”

  How had her tongue slipped up and given him that opening? She recited it for him and he closed his eyes for a second, his lips moving as he repeated it. “Got it.”

  He’d probably be calling to ask for her to give it to him again when he had somewhere to write it down.

  “So I have your permission to wander your farm whenever I like and snap photos?”

  Claire hesitated, but that basically was what she’d asked him to do. She couldn’t very well take it back now. “Sure. That would be great.”

  He pointed at the tree beside her. “Why don’t you stand closer to that willow?”

  “Why?”

  “So my photo will be framed better.” He grinned. “You did say I could take them whenever I wanted.”

  Chapter 11

  A tap sounded on Noel’s trailer door. “Who is it?”

  “Me, Jess.”

  He couldn’t very well turn her away, even though he didn’t feel like talking to anyone. “Come on in.” He dragged himself off his bed and plodded the few steps to the dinette.

  Jess opened the door and peered around it. “You okay, boss?”

  Noel sank into the upholstered seat and ran his palm over his unshaved face. “If that’s all you want to ask about, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Not a chance.” She came in, shut the door, and slouched into the seat opposite him. “Talk to me.”

  It wasn’t right that Jess should see him like this. Mind you, she’d seen worse, but never over a woman.

  “You been drinking? You said you’d quit.”

  “No.” He met her gaze. “I did quit. You know that.”

  Jess cocked her head. “Then what?”

  “It’s personal.”

  She barked a short laugh and slid out of the dinette. That girl could never sit still for ten seconds in a row. She went over to his sink and poured herself a glass of water then leaned against the counter, glancing around the untidy space.

  Noel crossed his arms and leaned back, glowering at her. She was doubtless looking for empties. “I’ll be fine, Jess. Thanks for caring. Now leave.”

  Jess straightened, her gaze fixed on his bed area across from her. She set the glass behind her without looking. Nearly missed the counter.

  What was she staring at so intently, anyway? His bed was made, if somewhat a muddle because he’d been lying on top of the quilt. He’d been—

  Noel surged to his feet as Jess took two steps forward and reached into the alcove. “Those are mine.”

  A stack of printed photos rested secure in Jess’s grasp. She turned her back to Noel and riffled through them.

  “Jess!”

  She turned to face him, eyes sparkling. “You have got it bad, boss.” Jess pushed past him and parked on the dinette seat, where she dealt out the images like playing cards. “Ooh, Dreamboat looks good there.” She set a photo in the center of the table in a pile of its own. A photo of Claire leaning back against the rail fence, gazing into the distance.

  The near distance, of course. Anything farther than the barbed wire fence a half-mile from the road was too far out to be on her radar.

  Not that he was bitter. He snagged the photos from the table and pushed them back into a pile, letting the one Jess had singled out land somewhere in the middle.

  It was his favorite, too. Jess had a good eye, but he’d never tell her so.

  She scooted further into the dinette and leaned against the wall, tucking her knees up under her chin. “Do tell Mama Jess everything.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” He slid the photos into their envelope and tossed it back on his bed.

  “Nice try, boss. You have, what? Twenty or thirty pics of one pretty girl? And you’re grouchy like a bear in springtime. Sounds to me like you need a listening ear.”

  Noel sighed. “She’s a girl super-glued to this valley, to her farm.” He spread his hands. “And look at me, a vagabond of the highest order. Does that sound compatible to you?”

  Jess tilted her head, considering. “No.”

  His heart sank. Had he really expected a different answer from his foreman?

  “You’re right, boss. It’s a bad idea. You live to travel and have adventures. You’d hate being tied to one place.”

  And Claire would detest his life, experiencing new places, new cultures, new languages. New thrills. But could anything be more thrilling than holding her in his arms every day for the rest of his life?

  Whoa, Kenzie. Was his hindbrain considering permanence? He shuddered and straightened. “Thanks for coming in, Jess. I’m over it.”

  She cocked her head, lifting her eyebrows. “That simple?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “So. Why don’t I believe you?”

  How could he prove it to her? “Here.” He reached into the alcove and grabbed the photos. “You take them. Toss them in tonight’s campfire, if you want.” He slapped the packet into her hand.

  “Whoa, boss. You haven’t deleted them off your SD card, have you?”

  He should probably do that, too. But no. Claire had asked him for photos for the website and if he didn’t come through, she’d know she’d gotten to him. Well, she already knew, because he’d told her. But not following through on his promise would be juvenile and tacky. Besides, he’d have to see her a few more times because of Amber’s wedding.

  “I have them on my laptop still. But I promise I won’t sit and stare at them. They’re only on there until I get a package ready to sell Green Acres for their website. Then they’re gone.”

  “Right. So you don’t care about these photos of Claire.”

  He shook his head so hard his hair slid over one eye. “Not a bit.”

  “So I can give one out to everyone in camp.” Jess held up the envelope. “There’s enough to go around.”

  Noel’s insides froze solid. “What?”

  She tapped it against her open palm. “Can’t have it both ways, boss. Either you care or you don’t.”

  **

  A week had gone by and Noel hadn’t emailed her any photos. Well, fine. Claire would take some herself with the point-and-shoot she’d bought during culinary school. It wasn’t as fancy a camera as Noel’s — it didn’t have a foot-long lens — but it was hers.

  Once the garden was planted she’d do just that, in fact. Forget Noel. She didn’t need him.

  Amber and Shawn would be out for Memorial Day next week. Come to think of it, Claire hadn’t seen any pictures of Shawn yet. What did he look like? Tall, dark, and handsome? No, that described Noel, but she was getting him out of her head. Opposite — short, blond, and ugly. Well, no. She couldn’t wish that on Amber, either.

  It didn’t matter. Shawn had met a rather lengthy checklist and conquered it. He was a hero, practically a Greek god.

  Not a jerk like his soon-to-be brother-in-l
aw.

  A silver Mazda pulled into the driveway. Amber? Already?

  Claire met Amber at the door. The younger woman’s face was puffy and her eyes red from crying. If she’d been sniffling like this all the way from Missoula, she must’ve gone through an entire box of tissues and been a menace on the roads.

  Amber threw herself into Claire’s arms. “It’s off. The wedding’s off.”

  “Oh, no. What happened? Are you okay?” Claire patted Amber awkwardly on the back. By the look on Amber’s face, Shawn must’ve been caught with another woman. Or he’d turned out to be a wanted criminal in another state and the police caught him. What horrendous acts could he have committed? Serial killer, maybe?

  “He stood me up for our date last night. I waited and waited for him.”

  Claire’s eyebrows pulled together. “He must have had a reason. Did you call?”

  Amber blew noisily into a tissue. “Eventually.”

  “And . . .”

  “His brother was there, and they were watching a baseball game. Can you imagine?”

  “Um . . .”

  “If I’m no more important to him than a stupid sports event — on TV no less — then he’s just mean.”

  Claire racked her brain trying to think of something to say. “Does his brother come over often?”

  “No. They’re not even close.”

  “Well, then . . .”

  “His brother lives in Butte.”

  “Let me get this straight. Shawn’s brother from out of town came to visit him and they watched a ball game on TV?”

  A new surge of tears. “Yes.”

  “And you’re upset enough to drive for five hours to cancel your wedding in person? Without talking to Shawn about it?”

  Amber hiccupped. “I talked to him.”

  “Oh?”

  “I said that if that’s only how important I was to him, then fine.”

  A cell phone jangled. Amber put her hand on her purse then pulled it away. “It’s probably Shawn. He keeps calling.”

  “Then answer it.”

  “N-no.”

  The phone quit after three rings. Amber heaved a big sigh.

  “When you told him, what did he say to you?”

  Amber’s lower lip trembled. “He said I was being petty and immature.”

  Claire liked Shawn more by the minute. “And then?”

  “And then I hung up and got in my car. I wanted to see Noel but he’s not at the trailer.”

  “He’s up the mountain.” Claire had seen his truck go by a couple of hours ago herself. Completely by accident, of course. She’d simply happened to notice.

  “Maybe Shawn would listen to Noel.”

  “A few weeks ago you thought Shawn was the most awesome guy on the planet. He could do no wrong.” Unless one counted daisies instead of roses for a dating anniversary.

  “I know him better now.”

  And Claire bet Shawn knew Amber a whole lot better, too. “Look, do you have that list on you? The one you showed me of how perfect he was?”

  Amber rolled her eyes, flipped open her purse, and pulled out the dog-eared page. She thrust it at Claire. “Here. You can have it.”

  “Come on in.” Claire stepped aside and crossed to the love seat. How did she get to be a marriage counselor, anyway? It wasn’t simply to save the fee. She just couldn’t ditch Noel’s sister, though it would minimize contact with him. That would be good. Right?

  Behind her, Amber kicked off her shoes and closed the door. She slumped into the facing love seat.

  Claire smoothed the sheet out on her lap and read the first item. “Tell me, Amber. Does Shawn still love God with all his heart?”

  Amber glared at her. “Probably.”

  “Sense of humor?”

  “Not so much.”

  “How about yours, girl?”

  Amber narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean — is there any way to look at this with more humor?” The girl couldn’t possibly look at it with less.

  Amber shrugged, though it must’ve been hard with her arms crossed so tightly.

  Alrighty then. “Does he still have a job? Still love kids? Still respect his mother?”

  Amber jerked up and stalked to the window. “What are you getting at here?”

  “I’m saying that Shawn is the same guy you adored last week. The very same exact guy.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Claire passed the list to Amber. “Read it. Tell me what has changed.” She put up a cautionary hand. “What’s really changed, and not just because you’re angry.”

  Amber’s lower jaw worked as she scanned the page. Her hand trembled, and a lone tear dribbled down her cheek. She shot a daggered look at Claire then turned the paper over and read the other side.

  Surely the stabs meant she heard Claire’s meaning.

  Amber flung the page from her and flopped back into the loveseat, eyes shut and arms spread dramatically.

  Claire waited.

  When Amber spoke, it was with a small voice. “So you’re saying Shawn’s right? I’ve turned into Bridezilla?”

  “I never said any such thing.” But she’d thought it.

  “I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill.”

  “Are you?”

  Amber leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and rubbed her temples. She heaved a big sigh. “It seems so.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  Amber peered at Claire through her long lashes. “Call Shawn?”

  “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll go in the kitchen and put the kettle on while you do that. Give you two some privacy. Then, if you want, we can talk some more before you head back.”

  “I took the rest of the week off work. We were coming up this weekend anyway.” Amber’s eyes pleaded with Claire. “Is my room available?”

  Claire nodded and patted Amber’s shoulder, then headed for the kitchen to the tune of little beeps coming from Amber’s phone.

  **

  Noel rubbed his sore shoulder as he pulled off the forest road up the mountain from Green Acres. Thankfully it had been sunny enough today that his solar shower bag should be heated. He could sure use a few minutes of soothing water without waiting for the generator to heat the tank.

  Noel glanced at the farm as he passed, just as his cell phone came back in service. It beeped a message, but the silver car parked by the deck grabbed his attention. Amber’s.

  Had he lost a day? He would’ve sworn it was Thursday, and she wasn’t coming until Friday, late.

  By this time he’d passed Nemeseks’ driveway and almost reached Elmer’s. Noel parked beside his trailer and checked the messages on his phone.

  A text from Amber: call me. Time stamped early this morning. Two more messages and several missed calls. She’d continued trying to reach him.

  He leaned his head on the steering wheel. He absolutely did not want to get caught up in any drama, either Amber’s or Claire’s. And they were together.

  He desperately craved a quiet evening. Maybe he could pretend he hadn’t gotten the messages.

  Nice try, Kenzie. They’d probably watched his truck go by two minutes before. No getting out of this, but he could have his shower first and get on some clean clothes. At least he wouldn’t be at a disadvantage. As much of one.

  Noel swung out of the cab and paused, sniffing the air. Something smelled burned. Polly hustled around under the tarped eating area while the vans carrying Enterprising Reforestation’s crews pulled in and parked haphazardly around the area, his workers piling out.

  No. He couldn’t face the mutiny of hungry, frustrated workers. He had to deal with Polly, even before his shower. Before anyone else took it upon him-or-herself to do so.

  He wiped the dust-encrusted sweat off his forehead with his denim sleeve as his cell phone jingled. He should leave the thing to ring. But Amber had seen him go by and would keep calling. Better get her over with.

 
He slid the phone on. “Noel here.”

  “Noel, it’s Amber.”

  “Yeah, what’s up? Make it quick, okay? Having some problems here I need to deal with.”

  Silence for a few seconds. That had come out wrong. Mean. Noel’s heart sank.

  “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.” Her voice had gone all stony. “I thought I mattered to you.”

  Noel sighed. “You do matter, but the chef is burning the food, I wrenched my shoulder, and I need a shower. Can this wait ten minutes?”

  “Fine. Whatever. Call me when you get a chance, if you ever do.” She hung up.

  He’d handled that perfectly once again.

  Noel eyed Polly across the yard. What was she making anyway? What else could go wrong today?

  Chapter 12

  “Men!” Amber flung her cell at the love seat. It bounced, flew off onto the etched concrete floor, and skittered away in several pieces. She stared for a few seconds then burst into tears.

  Claire leaned against the kitchen doorway, closed her eyes, and breathed a prayer. Where were her friends, anyway? Why did she have to deal with this emotionally wrecked bride-to-be?

  She knew the answer. Jo wasn’t technically Claire’s roommate anymore, but she and Zach would be coming for supper, anyway. Jo worked as nutritionist at the old folks’ home several days a week while Zach worked as a veterinarian. Sierra was in town setting up her naturopathic practice above the health food store.

  No one would be home for another hour at least. And when they came, they’d expect food on the table. Good thing she’d put beef strips in marinade this morning. Chuck steaks needed all the help they could get.

  “Come help me cook, Amber.” Claire eyed the younger woman huddling on the love seat bawling her eyes out. “Go wash your face and blow your nose and give me a hand.”

  Hiccupping and nodding and sobbing all at the same time, Amber rushed down the hallway to the bathroom.

 

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