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

by Valerie Comer

  “But—”

  She silenced him with a glare.

  Why wouldn’t she admit to Doreen how hard she’d fallen? Pride? Not that he knew anything about pride, of course. That’d never stopped him from saying anything in the past.

  The front door jingled. Doreen turned. “I’ll see who it is.” She cast another worried look over Sierra and returned to the storefront, minus the confident stride she used to have. Was the pain in her joints really that bad?

  Sierra’s floral scent invaded Gabe’s space again. He shut his eyes for an instant, letting it filter over him while he tried to pull himself together.

  “Don’t you ever,” Sierra whispered, just inches from his face. “Don’t ever worry Doreen about anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. Do you hear me?”

  * * *

  Gabe backed up a few steps.

  Good. Sierra needed the space. That whack to her head had addled her thinking for sure. There wasn’t a chance in the world she’d read that expression on his face correctly.

  Gabe, the guy who apparently lived to antagonize her, had looked like he was going to kiss her there for a minute. She’d been kissed a time or two in her life. She knew the look. The gaze fixed on her mouth, the pursing of his lips.

  Although her head screamed — correctly — that someone had hit it with a large metal trashcan, it was obviously wrong about Gabe. No way was he going to get the satisfaction of sensing her response to his touch. His lips.

  If she knew the signs, so did he. He’d been a married man. Sierra’d be crazy to think he didn’t know what a woman begging a kiss looked like. So she’d keep her eyes off his face, thank you very much. She’d keep her distance. Maybe if she couldn’t smell Old Spice, he was far enough away.

  She retrieved the clipboard and the packing sheets that had been bumped off in the crash. “Where were we?”

  Gabe sighed. “Here’s a box of Cora’s rice cakes, cheddar flavor. Hasn’t everyone got the memo that rice cakes aren’t really good for them?”

  “The fad lives on.” Sierra turned to the second page and marked off the item. “Next?”

  Man, her head hurt, but if she put her hand up to feel the bump, Gabe would send her away for sure. And why, again, was that a bad thing? He was so stubborn he deserved to flounder. It wasn’t like she had nothing to do at the farm.

  Claire and Noel had headed to the backcountry with a hunting group from California. Jo was home whacking up pumpkins for processing… at least if Maddie allowed it. That’s where Sierra should be. At the farm helping Jo. Not here where she was so obviously unappreciated.

  “Did you get the caramel-flavored rice cakes?”

  Sierra blinked and refocused on the packing sheet. “Um, here they are.” This was going to be a long, long day.

  * * *

  He’d sent them both home early after allowing Sierra to stick the bees on each of Doreen’s hands. Doreen hadn’t been up to a full day of work even without the stings. Too bad he hadn’t really noticed until Sierra pointed it out in that obstinate way of hers. And Sierra obviously had a painful head.

  Much as Gabe hated to think it, it was a good thing she’d wiped out. He’d been seconds away from kissing her. He probably would’ve gotten his face slapped a good one for his thoughtless behavior. He’d have deserved it.

  What had come over him, anyway? Sierra wasn’t his type. His type had died with Bethany. But did he really want to spend the next fifty-some years alone?

  He pulled the last package of Cora’s plain rice cakes off the shelf and layered the new stock behind it. That’s what his life felt like. Bland. A little crunch to make a person’s taste buds think this was worth eating. Sodium-free. Gluten-free. Hypoallergenic.

  Lowest of common denominators. Barely life-sustaining.

  The door jangled as someone entered.

  Gabe looked up from his spot near the floor.

  “Gabriel! The rumor mill said you were home again, dear boy. So good to see you.”

  He clambered to his feet as the wizened elderly woman thumped over, cane in hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Bowerchuk.”

  Her gaze slid past him to the open case on the floor. “Oh, good. Did you get in more of those rice cakes?”

  Gabe picked up a package and held it out to her. “These are the plain ones, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

  She accepted it. “I didn’t want to take the last one in case someone needed it more than I did.”

  Were they talking about the same product? How in the world could anyone need plain rice cakes? Had Cora laced them with crack at the factory? His gaze caught on the label. Organic crack, of course.

  “They make other flavors, you know.” Gabe tapped the shelf in front of each. “Salted…”

  “Sodium is bad for my blood pressure.”

  “Caramel.”

  “I’m diabetic.”

  “Cheddar.”

  She shook her head. “I mentioned about the salt, didn’t I?”

  Gabe managed to get a smile on his face. “Well, then. Plain it is. Would you like more than one package today?”

  “No, one is fine. I cut each in half so a package lasts almost two weeks.”

  His smile froze in place. “Fair enough.” Fair? Who rationed out something this tasteless to make them last? Who figured they were worth it? “Can I help you with anything else today, Mrs. Bowerchuk?”

  “No, this is everything for now, Gabriel.” She started for the counter.

  He followed her then rounded the end and rang up her purchase.

  Her shaky hands counted out the bills and coins from a worn wallet. She pushed the package into her black net bag and headed for the door. “God bless you, Gabriel. It’s good to see you home again.”

  Gabe opened the door and saw her out into the sunny October afternoon. Did she still live in the apartment over on Fifth? She looked ready for Galena Hills Care Facility where Jo still worked part time as a nutritionist.

  Wilma Bowerchuk must be eighty-five if she was a day. Probably more like ninety. Plain unflavored rice cakes made her life brighter.

  Gabe turned back to the boxes on the floor. Five flavors besides plain.

  No, he did not want a life like plain rice cakes. He couldn’t see Bethany wishing that on him. She’d want him to live a little, or maybe a lot.

  If he had to be one, caramel was the best bet. Something with pizzazz. Something that tingled the palate.

  Sierra would invent a new flavor that hadn’t been tasted before. Something with honey. But look at all the cross words they’d exchanged since his return ten days ago. She wasn’t interested in him. She was all about protecting Doreen and making sure he didn’t wreck the business the two women had built.

  Besides, Burke the Jerk had kissed Sierra, and she hadn’t looked like she minded. If Gabe were going looking — and he wasn’t saying he was — he’d look elsewhere.

  Chapter 10

  Sierra wielded a heavy butcher knife over a massive chunk of pumpkin. If only her headache would simmer down. The pumpkin had been so huge even Zach couldn’t lift it. He’d rolled it over to the compost pile before he’d gone off to a day of work at Landing Veterinary. He’d taken an axe to the squash, whacked it into manageable sized chunks, loaded them into a wheelbarrow, and pushed it right into the kitchen.

  Jo tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, leaving an orange streak and a few pumpkin seeds in the wake of her finger.

  Should Sierra tell her? Nah, she’d look just as bad herself in a few minutes, no doubt. “Where’s Maddie?”

  “Rosemary took her. She was so angry I wouldn’t let her climb in the wheelbarrow.”

  “She keeps life interesting.”

  Jo shook her head. “That’s one way to put it.” She heaped chunked pumpkin onto a baking pan and set it in one of the wall ovens. “Now I know why the general population has gotten away from gardening and home processing.”

  Sierra leaned into her knife. Well, Clair
e’s knife, part of the set Noel had given her as an engagement gift. This was the thickest-skinned pumpkin she’d ever been privileged to tackle. When Jo didn’t go on, Sierra glanced up. “Your great revelation is…?”

  Jo reached for another baking pan. “Back in the old days, extended families lived near each other. They could share tasks, so no one felt the weight of doing it alone.”

  “You’re saying our set-up isn’t unique.” Not that Sierra had ever believed they were the first group to live communally.

  Jo laughed. “Not exactly. I didn’t expect to become part of an actual extended family when we moved here, though.”

  “What you’re really saying is it’s handy to have Maddie’s grandparents nearby when we’ve got a big day in the garden or kitchen.” There’d be no extended clan here for Sierra. Doreen was the closest thing she had to a mother figure in Galena Landing. Her own family lived in Portland. Supportive, yes. On the spot? Not so much.

  “You got it. The kid never sits still for two seconds. She’s enough to wear a person out.”

  Sierra laughed. “Except Zach’s dad. She’ll sit with him and look at storybooks for ages.”

  “Steve’s amazing with her. I wish I’d known him before he got struck with Guillain-Barré Syndrome. Zach says he was always busy puttering around the farm. You can tell he hates sitting around, unless he’s got Maddie with him.”

  They chopped in silence for a few minutes before Jo glanced at Sierra across the butcher-block island. “So, what’s up with Gabe?”

  Sierra’s gut, already tense, seized. “What do you mean?”

  “You two looked mighty cozy behind the counter at Nature’s Pantry this morning. Gazing into each other’s eyes and all.”

  Sierra shrugged. “Just going over the new categories on the till and the new suppliers we’ve brought in since he left. Getting him up to speed.”

  “Right.”

  “Honestly. He’s ready to take over, so I came home from town early. You should be happy. I’ll be around more to help with everything at the farm.”

  “That look—”

  “Jo? There’s nothing going on with Gabe. I’m serious.” She forced a laugh. “Now if we were talking Tyrell, it would be a different matter.”

  “Tyrell Burke?” Jo sniffed. “I don’t see what you see in him.”

  “What do you mean? He’s a nice guy. A Christian. A local beekeeper.”

  “How local a beekeeper can he be if he hauls his hives to California for almond pollination? Didn’t you tell me yourself that half the problem with the bee population is most of the hives in the country are clustered together for a time? If anyone has any diseases in their colonies, that’s a perfect chance to spread them around.”

  “I know, I know. It’s not ideal. But that’s how beekeepers in America make money to stay afloat. It’s simply how the business operates when you get to a larger scale.”

  Jo pulled a pan of pumpkin out of the oven and slammed the door. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this excuse from you.”

  Sierra clenched her jaw. “What?”

  “You know what. It’s exactly the kind of Big Ag mentality that’s gotten the whole food system in such a mess. Delete almonds permanently off the grocery list. I won’t support that industry.”

  The walnut and hazelnut trees they’d planted hadn’t begun to produce yet. It took years to become self-sufficient in nuts. But there was no sense arguing with Jo when she got this way. She’d given up coffee cold turkey, after all. Sierra and Claire’s consumption had gone down and they only bought organic fair trade, but still. Sierra was pretty sure Zach drank coffee at the clinic.

  “Relax, Jo. It’s one reason I don’t want to run more hives than we do now. This much honey we can easily sell locally, and Noel’s happy to make mead with the extra. It’s only part of the whole farm’s income, so it’s manageable.”

  “Diversity. That’s another thing.” Jo went off on a tirade about monoculture and how bad it was for the environment.

  Sierra didn’t bother to stop her. They were in total agreement on the topic, and it kept Jo from pursuing her inquisition about either Tyrell or Gabe. Sierra brought the two men up, side by side, in her imagination. Tyrell all but swaggered into place. Confidence wasn’t a bad thing, though. It was nice to be around somebody who knew what they wanted, had made a plan to achieve it, and worked his plan.

  Unlike Gabe. Sierra had no trouble cutting him a bit of slack for the tumult of the past three years. But still, he’d always lacked the confidence that was part of Tyrell’s innate being. Gabe didn’t have big dreams. He’d been satisfied with a small business in a small town, with a contented wife and a baby on the way.

  What about her? She’d obviously had big dreams, too. Her and Claire and Jo. She didn’t know any other group of women who’d decided to buy a farm and grow their own food. They’d created goals and followed through. So she was probably more compatible with Tyrell than with Gabe, no matter what Jo said.

  That Zach and Noel had come along to share their dream was a bonus, according to Jo and Claire. Sierra wasn’t so sure. Yeah, it was great that her friends were happy, but it made her the odd girl out. If she married Tyrell Burke, she’d move off Green Acres, but only by a few miles. She could still see her friends and work the farm with them. Or maybe they’d buy her share eventually.

  If she married Gabriel Rubachuk… well, first off, there was zero chance of that. But if she did, who knew what would happen? The contented small-town guy had disappeared to some European third-world country for three years and now talked of moving away permanently. What kind of life was that for someone whose roots dug deeper into the Galena Valley every day?

  No, Tyrell Burke was by far the better choice.

  “Earth to Sierra. I’ll bet a pumpkin pie you’re thinking about Gabe.”

  Sierra summoned up a grin. “You’d lose. I was thinking about Tyrell.” She rubbed her belly. “But why don’t you let Claire make the pie instead? Then it would be edible.”

  * * *

  He’d been back in Galena Landing for nearly two weeks and had managed to avoid dinner hour at his host house nearly every night, just in case it turned into another group meal. Rosemary had pinned Gabe down this morning and made him promise to show up.

  Well, if he was going to fit back in, even temporarily, he should make an effort. Zach’s parents and his had been close friends, so Gabe had known them well even before they’d shared experiences in Romania that year.

  Why was he so reluctant to spend time with them now? Partly the framed portraits of Zach’s wedding and the family pictures that hung on the living room wall. Partly the slightly worried crease on Rosemary’s forehead whenever she looked at Gabe. Partly the reminder, when he looked at Steve, that a man couldn’t plan out his life and assume it would run smoothly. Who expected to contract a neurological disease like Guillain-Barré, anyway?

  Gabe drove his old car into the Nemesek driveway and parked near the plum trees. Starlings had swept through and cleaned off the trees a few days before. Only a few leaves remained, opening a clear view of the straw bale house next door.

  He should probably brace himself and move back into his apartment. Everyone would worry about him less. He laughed, the sound harsh in the still autumn air. It should have the opposite effect.

  Gabe rounded the house to the veranda. He couldn’t remember anyone using the front door once in all the times he’d been to the farm over the years. The sound of voices and laughter filtered around the corner.

  He stopped. Not a quiet meal with Steve and Rosemary then. Madelynn shrieked. Zach and Jo must be here, unless Rosemary was babysitting. He closed his eyes, straining to hear. Surely Sierra was next door. She wasn’t part of the Nemesek clan.

  At any rate, it didn’t matter. He’d been invited. He was here. It would be beyond rude… and a bit revealing… if he left now.

  “Rubachuk!” Zach’s fist came up as Gabe stepped onto the veranda.

  �
�Nemesek.” Gabe rammed his fist against Zach’s.

  Jo rolled her eyes before grinning at Gabe.

  “Hey, we’ve been around a while,” Zach said easily, his other arm draped around Jo on the porch swing. Domino lay sprawled at their feet. He raised his voice. “Mom, Gabe’s here.”

  “Good!” she called from inside. “Want to light the grill? Everything else is nearly ready.”

  Zach disengaged from his wife, strode over to the gas grill, and opened the lid. “Don’t you ever scrub this thing?”

  “Yes. Last time I lit it.”

  “Uh. Where’s the brush?”

  “Let it get hot first, Zachary. Some things you have to do when the time is right.”

  The words trickled into a parched spot of Gabe’s soul as he sank into a wicker chair.

  Madelynn pressed her face against the screen door from inside the kitchen then started bashing at it.

  “No, Maddie!” Jo sprang to her feet. “Be gentle with Grandma’s door. You don’t want to break it.”

  “Break?” echoed the tyke, still pounding.

  Jo rescued the child and set her on the veranda floor. Maddie ran to Domino and jumped on his back. The startled Border collie strained to get to his feet, but Maddie wasn’t budging.

  Gabe reached over and rubbed Domino’s ears. “It’s okay, buddy. Be nice to her. She won’t bite.”

  She wouldn’t bite Gabe, either. He eyed the little one for a few seconds. “Hey, Maddie, want to come see Uncle Gabe?” He patted his pockets. What could he entice her with?

  “No!” she yelled, yanking on the dog’s ear.

  Jo pulled her off Domino’s back. “Be nice. Gentle.”

  Maddie wriggled to get down.

  “It’s never-ending,” Jo said to Gabe. “She never stops. Ever.”

  The pang was less than it had been. Maybe because he couldn’t imagine parenting a tornado like Maddie. Surely his and Bethany’s daughter would have been calmer… not that there was any way to know.