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

by Valerie Comer

  “Grill’s hot,” hollered Zach. “Now where’s the brush you told me about?” He hunted around in the porch cupboard.

  The screen door opened, and Sierra came out holding a platter of raw burgers. She didn’t glance Gabe’s way but set the plate down on the table near Zach, who’d found the brush and was scrubbing off the remains of the previous meal. She pivoted for the kitchen.

  Gabe released a breath. Okay. Sierra was here after all. He’d survive.

  A moment later she reappeared at the door carrying a tray loaded with a pitcher of raspberry vinegar and glasses. She went down the steps, over to the picnic table under an awning, and began unloading the tray.

  Probably there was more where that came from, if seven people were eating outside. Gabe walked into the kitchen. “What else needs to go out, Rosemary?”

  She wiped short graying hair from her face. “Thanks, Gabriel. These salads can go. Sierra can load the condiments and buns on the tray next time. Then plates and cutlery.”

  He nodded and lifted the salads. Sierra, on her way in, opened the screen door at his approach. A moment later he held the door for her as they crossed paths again. By the time the burgers were cooked, they’d transferred everything to the outdoor table. He hadn’t even had to look her in the eye once. So far, so good.

  Zach’s dad was the last to sit down. He glanced at Gabe as he lowered himself gingerly into his chair. “So, how was your first full day back in the store?”

  “Good.” Gabe refused to look at Sierra. “A little busy putting away freight around the customers, but not too bad.”

  Steve nodded. “Busier than it used to be, I’ll warrant. Doreen and Sierra have worked hard.”

  So he was cornered. He managed to come up with a smile for Sierra. “They have, and I’m thankful. How’s your head?”

  Her hand slid to the back of her skull. “I’ll have a bump for a few days, but it will be okay.”

  “Oh?” Rosemary looked up. “What happened?”

  “I slipped on some plastic wrap and fell. No big deal.”

  “And here I asked you to come in and help with supper. You should have told me.”

  “No, really. It’s fine.”

  “She’s got a hard head,” quipped Jo.

  Sierra shot her friend an unreadable glance.

  Gabe took a deep breath. “I’m planning to move back into the apartment this weekend.” He focused on Steve. “I’m so grateful you allowed me to stay here for a bit, but it’s time I stood on my own two feet.”

  Rosemary touched his arm. “Only if you’re ready, Gabriel. We’re in no hurry to see you leave.”

  “I can’t avoid it forever.” Much as he wished the opposite were true.

  “Sorry we took over your dining room for a store office.” Sierra reached for the mustard. “We can get that moved downstairs again, if you’ll give a hand with the desk.”

  “That old office under the stairs is no bigger than a closet.” It had been enough when he was running a failing solo business. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  “We can make it fit. Upstairs was easier when two of us were going over reports together. There isn’t room for two chairs downstairs.”

  And he was alone. One more reminder. Not that Bethany had taken a hands-on approach to Nature’s Pantry. Maybe if he’d encouraged it, things would have been different.

  Gabe blocked his brain. He couldn’t go there. The what-if spiral could drag him way down. He knew. He’d been there.

  “Besides,” Sierra went on. “You won’t want Doreen or me intruding on your personal space to look something up.” Then her brow furrowed. “Though I guess that won’t be a problem once you’re up to speed.”

  “Hey, Rubachuk, you might want to splash some fresh paint around that apartment before you move in.” Zach put his hand on Jo’s shoulder. “My woman here is an expert. She’d love to paint your place.”

  “Ha.” Jo shifted away from Zach’s touch. “Not by myself, I wouldn’t. But a bunch of us could make a day of it. What colors do you like, Gabe? And don’t say beige. That isn’t a color.”

  “Well, not pink.” Gabe glanced at Jo. “Anyone need some of that, there are three cans in the closet.” He managed to get the words out without choking. “Maybe you’d like it in Maddie’s room?”

  She shook her head. “Already done in green, with everything matching. No pink for my kid.”

  Surprise.

  “I haven’t painted the spare room in my duplex yet,” Sierra said. “I could take the pink off your hands. It’s definitely better than the drywall mud smears it’s got now.”

  “Sure. It’s all yours.” The perfect place for it… somewhere he’d never have to see.

  “Saturday good for everyone?” Jo looked around. “It will be nice to get a break from gardening and canning.”

  “I’ll keep Madelynn,” Rosemary offered. “I’m not up for ladders.”

  “That’s a huge help.” Jo grinned at her mother-in-law. “Though I’m sure she’d love to finger paint. Or, you know, foot paint.”

  Gabe’s head reeled. Had he agreed to all this? Really? “How about shades of blue?”

  Jo narrowed her gaze at him. “Blue would be okay, but only if I can do the wall that runs through the dining room and living room deep gold, like honey. I think that will keep it from being gloomy.”

  Yeah, he had enough trouble with depression without inviting it in on purpose. Gold wasn’t a color Bethany would have chosen. She hadn’t ever complained about the beige walls. Gabe shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”

  Sierra glanced at her watch and pushed her chair back. “Sorry, I have to run. Saturday’s good though.”

  “Where are you off to?” asked Jo.

  “I have a date with Tyrell.”

  What was the unspoken conversation going on between the two women? Gabe could almost read it, but not quite. He should be glad she was going out with the other guy. He really should.

  But he wasn’t.

  Chapter 11

  Tyrell gave Sierra a hand up into his gleaming truck, and she sank into the sumptuous leather seat. A moment later he grinned at her as he snapped his seat belt into place. “Hello, doll.”

  Sierra smiled at him. “Hi, yourself.” Maybe if she didn’t show her annoyance at the nickname, it wouldn’t be worth his while to keep using it.

  “Just wait until you see the boat. She’s a beauty. Almost as pretty as you.” He glanced her way as he navigated back onto Thompson Road.

  “That’s great.” She’d worn jeans and a fitted sweatshirt tonight, a pleasant enough evening for October. Could get cold on the lake, though.

  “Done much boating?”

  “My uncle had a sailboat moored at Lincoln City. We went out with him a few times.”

  “A sailboat?” Tyrell laughed. “You can’t water ski behind that and, besides, it’s a lot of work. I’ll take a speedboat any day.”

  “Oh, my uncle loved the wind. Bragged how little he had to spend on fuel for his boat.”

  Tyrell winked. “Money’s not a problem for me, but I didn’t mind getting a deal on this baby at the end of the season.”

  It wasn’t a problem for Uncle Ward, either. Money hadn’t been the point.

  The truck came to a stop at the small marina near Lakeside Park. Tyrell bounded around to open the door for Sierra. “After you, my lady.” He gestured toward the dock.

  One shiny speedboat stood taller and broader than the others. Sierra’s gut sank. That had to be Tyrell’s. Why did he have to have everything bigger and better than anyone else?

  He slung his arm around her shoulders and pointed as they walked to the dock. “There she is.”

  She’d been right. She took a deep breath.

  “Isn’t she a beaut? The former owners just had her registration number on the hull. I’m thinking of giving her a name.”

  Sierra could feel the whisper of his lips beside her ear. She pulled away slightly. “Oh? What kind of name?”

 
“The Sierra doesn’t sound quite right. Sorry, doll.”

  The what? He’d actually considered naming his boat after her? This was crazy. “I’m glad. Sierra’s a good name for mountains, a desert, or a woman. Not a boat.” Please, not a boat.

  “What’s your middle name?” He released her to untie the mooring.

  Sierra stepped further away, wrapping both arms around her waist. “Ann.”

  “The Ann.” Tyrell held the thick rope in his hands and tilted his head to look at the watercraft. “The Ann.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t have the right sound. Let’s think on it a bit. Maybe The Singing Ann.”

  “I don’t sing.” Church on Sunday didn’t count, did it? Certainly no one would ever ask her to join a worship team.

  “The Dolly Ann?”

  Sierra cringed. “Boats don’t really need a name.”

  “Here, let me give you a hand in.”

  When she was settled as far away from the steering wheel as she could get, Tyrell pushed off and clambered aboard. He made his way to the cockpit and started the engine.

  It was quieter than the flapping of sails in the wind, she’d give it that, but how much fuel would it go through in an hour?

  Once they’d puttered out of the sheltered marina, Tyrell opened he motor, and the boat leaped forward, bow high. He beamed at Sierra from the cockpit. “Isn’t it great?”

  She nodded, flipping her hair so it streamed behind her instead of whipping her face. Across the valley beyond Galena Landing, the sky turned orange as the sun impaled a mountain. Aside from the motor and a few southern-bound Canada geese flying overhead, silence reigned. The pain meds for her head had finally kicked in.

  Peace. A balm to her soul. She could get used to this.

  “Are you cold?” Tyrell called out. “Come over here, out of the wind.” He waggled his eyebrows and held out an arm.

  Peace. Could she ever attain it with Tyrell nearby? Why couldn’t she simply settle in and enjoy being close to him? He was a nice guy. He went to her church. Sure, he was a little on the touchy-feely side, but he hadn’t made any improper overtures.

  She’d much rather stay sitting in the stern with the wind howling through her hair than snuggle up behind the windshield, but was that being rude? She’d told everyone it was a date, but she wasn’t acting like it.

  Sierra needed to give him a chance. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life alone, and Tyrell was a better catch than most. With one last flip of her hair, she stood and made her way to the shelter of his arm.

  * * *

  The evening light faded from beyond the Nemesek veranda. Jo had long since taken Madelynn home to bed. Zach’s parents had retired, urging the guys to stay and visit as long as they liked.

  Gabe took a sip of his coffee. Decaf, given the hour.

  Zach glanced his way. “So, how are you really doing, man? Hardly seen you around since you got back.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Zach chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were busy avoiding me.”

  Gabe shrugged. “Not you so much.”

  “Then who?”

  “Everything. Everyone.”

  “And you look at me and see everything you lost.” Sympathy shone in Zach’s eyes.

  How to deny it? Gabe couldn’t. “Well, yeah. But it’s not just that.”

  “I’ve been praying for you, man.” Zach leaned his elbows on his knees.

  “I appreciate it.”

  “There for a while you were the one praying for me. Praying I’d find my way back to God.”

  “I’m not away from God.” Not precisely.

  “Yeah.” Zach didn’t sound like he quite believed that one. “Anyway, I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “I just don’t quite know how to pick up and start over, if you know what I mean. In theory, it sounds like it should be simple.”

  “Coming home is a good first step. Getting back into your own place will be tough, but I think the paint job will help, don’t you? Move the furniture around, or get some new pieces if it helps.”

  “Paint will make a difference.” Probably. Maybe. “I hate to make everyone give up a day for that, though. Everyone’s so busy, and I’m intruding.”

  “Oh, man, you are definitely not intruding. It was our idea. Haven’t you figured out yet what we’re all about here? Community. We work together. We play together. No one has to carry a burden alone.”

  Gabe’d had a community of sorts in Romania at the orphanage. The directors, the various workers, the children. He nodded slowly. Not that Zach could see in the near-darkness. “Well, I appreciate it.”

  “Noel and Claire will be back from their guide trip on Saturday night, but I think we can handle the paint job without them, especially with Mom taking Maddie. Jo and Sierra painted most of the big house and the cabin. They’re efficient.”

  Another day spent in Sierra’s company, whether he wanted to or not. So long as she didn’t bring Tyrell Burke with her. Gabe took a long swallow of coffee.

  “If you don’t want to talk to me, how about Pastor Ron? He’s a good guy.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can say, Nemesek. I know all the words. I know I have to accept things the way they are. I mostly have, but sometimes things catch me wrong.”

  Zach angled a look his way. “Like seeing my daughter.”

  “Yeah.” It didn’t hurt as much as it had, though. “Things like that. She’s a cutie, but you know that.”

  “She is. She’s also as stubborn as her mother. Some days the only reason we win is because we’re bigger than she is.”

  Gabe chuckled. “She’ll be fine, surrounded by as much love as you all give her.” Not like the kids in Romania. There just wasn’t enough of anything to go around. Not even love. He’d been making a difference there. It would’ve been easy to stay where he felt needed. But he’d known in his heart it was time to return to American soil.

  Too bad he couldn’t have brought an orphan or two with him, but the days of Romania allowing international adoptions were long past. And a kid… even an orphan… should get two parents out of the deal. Not a man struggling to find his way alone.

  “You’ll meet someone,” Zach was saying. “You know Bethany wouldn’t want you to stay single for the rest of your life. Did you guys ever talk about it? What would happen if one of you died?”

  “Yeah.” Gabe’s mind slid back to that day, early in their marriage. “She wanted to talk about it. I didn’t.”

  “I bet.”

  “She was like, don’t be alone, Gabe. You know you can’t take care of yourself. You need a woman in your life.”

  Silence for a moment. “What did you say?”

  Gabe’s laugh came out almost with a sob. “I said, how about if we agree to both live until we’re a hundred?”

  Sympathy shone from Zach’s eyes in the dim light. “Guess it didn’t work out that way.”

  “Guess not.” Gabe took a sip. “I don’t know why it still feels like I’m letting her down when I try to focus on the future.”

  “You’re taking good steps now. Real feet-on-the-ground steps. It will get better.”

  “It has, but it’s such a slow process. And honestly…” He took a deep breath. “Honestly, sometimes I don’t want to move forward. I just want to curl up in a ball and never come out again.”

  “Still?”

  “It was getting better. It’s why I thought I could handle coming back. But now? I’m not so sure.”

  “What’re you afraid of, man?”

  Zach was a good friend. Even those challenging words came out with gentleness Gabe would never have dreamed his childhood buddy had in him.

  “You don’t need to prove to anyone how much you loved Bethany. We all knew it. We know it broke your heart when she died. Don’t worry about what other people think.”

  Was that what held him back? Maybe. Maybe Doreen would think he hadn’t really loved her daughter. Maybe others would
wonder. But that was dumb. There’d never been anyone but Bethany for him since he’d been a teenager. The whole town had known.

  Time to let go? Gabe fisted his hand in the darkness then released one finger at a time. “Thanks, man.”

  * * *

  “I bought a few acres off my dad.” Tyrell’s hands held the boat’s wheel, his arms hemming Sierra in.

  She tried to pour enthusiasm into her reply. “Oh, that’s great.”

  “I’ll start building a house in spring. Big one. What style do you like? We can do big windows and a big deck. There’s a great view across the valley.” He nuzzled her neck, minty breath from his gum trickling over her.

  A chill ran through her, and she shivered.

  “A hot tub off the master bedroom. Made for two.”

  A hot tub sounded nice, but they wouldn’t be two people forever. She’d be twenty-eight soon, and her biological clock was ticking. She shoved the thought of her miserable periods out of her mind. Sometimes pregnancy helped women regulate better. She could hope.

  “We can build up the honey business. Hmm, maybe I should call the boat The Honeybee.”

  Sierra loved being in the apiary. The bees forced her to slow down and breathe deeply. But still, running hundreds of hives? What about all the other things she liked doing? She’d always meant to get Rosemary to teach her to quilt, for one thing.

  He nudged her with his elbow. “What are you thinking?”

  If he was going to talk about a future together, she guessed she could ask some frank questions, too. “How many kids do you want?”

  Tyrell laughed. “Who needs kids? They’re expensive, and the world is populated enough, don’t you think?” He slid a hand down her hips. “Besides, we wouldn’t want your beautiful figure ruined.”

  Sierra flinched and glanced up.

  He met her gaze, startled. “Oh, fine. You could probably talk me into one. It would be fun trying.”

  Her face flamed in the near-darkness, and she ducked from under his arm then backed a few steps away.