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

by Valerie Comer

Doreen studied his face while her hand slid back and forth on the envelope. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not selling the store, Doreen. I’m not going away to school. I’m not hiring a manager, temporarily or permanently. I might do a distance education course or two, but that’s it. Okay?” He rounded the counter and dropped the packet into the recycling bin.

  Her gaze went from his face to the envelope and back again. “About Sierra…”

  Gabe could see the wheels turning. He held his smile in place as he raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “She’s the key to all this, isn’t she?”

  She was the key to everything in his future. Even though Doreen had nudged him in Sierra’s direction like everyone else they knew, he wasn’t ready to tell her the details of their evening.

  It was still too early to be certain, but the direction looked positive. At least he was pretty sure he wouldn’t need that college information. He got the smirk off his face. “You want a project? I’ve been too busy to properly organize that office under the stairs. We just stacked everything in boxes and hauled them down, but I bet some of the musty paperwork can go into storage. Old brochures from companies we don’t deal with anymore can be recycled. We could probably make better use of the filing cabinet.”

  It took a minute before she nodded. “If you lift the boxes, I can sort.”

  Gabe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Lifting I can do.”

  Chapter 20

  A lanky boy skidded to a stop in the threshold of the junior youth Sunday school room, bracing a hand on each side of the doorframe. “You’re not Mr. Burke at all.”

  Gabe grinned at the kid. “Great observation. I’m Mr. Rubachuk. Guess I’m your teacher for a while.”

  The boy moved into the room, a dozen or so other tweens pouring in behind him as though he’d been the plug holding them back. “What happened to Mr. Burke?”

  “This time…”

  Gabe couldn’t spot who’d added those words. “Hey now. I taught this class for five years. Just because I’ve been out of town for the last three is no reason to assume I’m not able to handle you guys.”

  The boy raised his eyebrows.

  Gabe mimicked him. “Your name is?”

  “He’s Mark Kestrel,” another kid chimed in.

  Gabe nodded his thanks to the spokesman. “Kestrel. Any relation to Dustin?”

  “Yeah, he’s my brother.”

  If this boy was half as much trouble as his older brother had been, Gabe would have his hands full. “Dustin was in my class for a couple of years. We both survived. Might even have learned something.”

  “You or him?”

  Gabe laughed. The kid was quick with his tongue. “Both of us.” He took a good look at each pre-teen as they settled into chairs around the long table. What he’d liked best about teaching this age group had been the questions that made him dig. Rote didn’t work. They needed reality and depth. Gabe breathed a prayer. Was he ready to guide them?

  Did he have a choice?

  He slid his Bible and the curriculum to one side. “Let’s get to know one another today. What have you been studying with, ah, Mr. Burke?”

  Mark leaned back in his chair. “Not much.”

  Gabe kept a grin in place. “Then it’s time we got digging into God’s word, don’t you think?”

  The kid shrugged. “Why bother? We’re only here because our parents make us come.”

  “Not all of us.” A girl across the table made a face at Mark before beaming at Gabe.

  Gabe wasn’t sure if she was here to study the Bible or ogle a male teacher. He’d make no bets yet. “Your name?”

  “Samantha. Or just Sam.”

  He asked the others for names. When introductions had been made, he asked, “What do you think about Jesus?”

  “He’s God.”

  “He died to save us.”

  “He’s ancient history.”

  Who’d said that? It hadn’t sounded like Mark. “So you don’t think Jesus is relevant?”

  “How could He be? He died thousands of years ago.”

  “And rose again,” Sam piped up.

  The boy — Austin? — shrugged. “So they say. But what good is it now? I mean, I don’t see Him here, walking around and doing miracles like He did in the Bible.”

  Once Gabe had begged God for an old-fashioned sign of His attention — Bethany raised from the dead. “You’re right. We don’t see many flashy miracles these days.” He took a deep breath. “Which doesn’t mean Jesus isn’t real.”

  “Even if He is, it doesn’t much matter.” Mark slouched down in his seat and motioned around the table. “We’re young. We’re not going to die for a long time, so why worry about stuff like God now?”

  “Actually, nobody knows how long they have.” Gabe silently begged God for words. “My wife was only twenty-six when she died in a car crash.”

  The kids stared at him. Even Sam had no more than a flicker of sympathy. Did they have hearts of stone?

  “I guess she wasn’t that old,” Sam said at last.

  “It’s pretty old,” another girl said.

  Oh, for the perspective of pre-teens.

  “It may seem ancient to you,” Gabe said, “but it isn’t really. Who is the youngest person you know who died?”

  The youth glanced at each other.

  Was this groupthink? Could they not form opinions without confirmation?

  “My neighbor drowned in the creek when she was two,” Sam said.

  “Jenkins got killed driving drunk.”

  “That was stupid.” Mark gave his head a quick shake.

  “My cousin had cancer. She was eight.”

  Gabe leaned his elbows on the table. “So not only old people die.” That these kids thought of Bethany as old still rankled. She’d been in her prime.

  Mark shook his head. “Mostly old people though. Like my great-grandmother. I think she’s ninety or a hundred. She’s gonna die soon, Dad said.”

  “The thing is, we don’t know for sure, do we?” Gabe tried to meet the kids’ eyes, one by one. “And eternity lasts a whole lot longer than even your great-grandmother. Whether you live to be nine or ninety—”

  “We’ve already got nine beat,” Austin interrupted with a laugh.

  “So you do. But the point is, whether you live to be nine or ninety, it’s barely a drop in the bucket of time. Eternity is so huge that it’s worth thinking about, even when it feels a long way off.”

  They didn’t look convinced.

  “But you know, forever isn’t the only reason to get to know Jesus and live for Him. It’s worth it every single day.”

  The most response was a few raised eyebrows. Gabe had his work cut out for him.

  * * *

  “Hey, Sierra.” Gabe smiled at her in the foyer after church.

  She’d made sure she was wedged in the middle of a pew between Jo and Claire, the guys flanking them. She hadn’t been ready to talk to Gabe. He’d texted her a couple of times this week, and she’d claimed busyness with Chelsea and Allison’s visit. Of course, they’d been gone a few days now.

  And she still wasn’t ready to talk to Gabe but, at some point, she’d have to come up with words.

  She managed a smile for him, her heart breaking. How was she going to live without him, just when it seemed like things were coming together for them as a couple? But he kept talking about having kids as though it were a given. Maybe it was. For other people.

  “Rubachuk.” Zach’s fist came past Sierra’s shoulder and collided with Gabe’s.

  “Nemesek.”

  “Lunch?”

  Gabe’s eyes caught Sierra’s for a second. “Sure, why not?”

  “Why not, indeed.” Zach chuckled as he turned away.

  Gabe lowered his voice. “I’ve missed you this week.”

  She studied his shoes. Brown, in need of polishing. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Have a good visit with your sister?” />
  She nodded.

  “That’s good.” He hesitated for a second. “Everything all right? You seem kind of quiet.”

  She blinked moisture from her eyes and looked up at him. Blue eyes with little wrinkle lines around them met hers. “I’m okay.” It was a bit of a lie, probably, but they were too new to talk about this kind of thing. Maybe she could keep their relationship in limbo until after the ultrasound, after she knew for sure what she was up against. It might prove to be nothing.

  It wasn’t nothing. She knew it. Those painful periods had a reason for their increasing frequency.

  “Hey, Rubachuk!” This time the voice was Noel’s. “How are you at chopping vegetables? If you’re up for it, you can come for lunch.”

  Claire swatted Noel’s arm and winked at Sierra. “He can come anyway.”

  Noel grinned. “He who doesn’t work shouldn’t eat,” he quoted, tugging Claire against his side.

  Claire rolled her eyes.

  Sierra backed up a step. She wanted what they had. She wanted it with Gabe.

  “I can do the chopping thing.” But Gabe’s eyes didn’t go to Noel. They seemed pinned on her.

  He’d chop her from his life when he found out. Even now, he suspected something. He was reading her better than Jo or Claire. If that wasn’t scary, nothing was. Her girlfriends were too wrapped up in their own lives to notice anything wrong in Sierra’s. Yeah, she’d made no announcements, but shouldn’t they have been more in tune with her moods?

  Sierra turned and headed for the big double doors before Gabe decided to ask her if she’d ride out to the farm with him. In front of everyone.

  * * *

  All through lunch Gabe kept an eye on Sierra. How could no one else notice how quiet she was? Probably Jo and Claire knew what the problem was and just didn’t want to make an issue of it in front of him. But if he felt like an outsider, what about Sierra? Was the pulling back on purpose or not?

  The group lingered over coffee in the great room after Sunday lunch — all except Jo, who always drank chamomile or mint tea from the farm’s own herb patches.

  Gabe couldn’t spend all his time worrying about Sierra. He dropped on the floor beside Maddie’s toy box and took out a little car. He set it on the top level of the play garage and gave it a nudge.

  Maddie squealed as it zipped down the ramp. She scampered after the runaway and brought it back to him. “Again!”

  Jo chuckled. “She likes you, Gabe.”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” asked Zach.

  Gabe grinned. Being around this little monkey wasn’t as painful as it had been a few weeks before. She was her own person, not a whisper of the babe Bethany had carried. He let the car go down the ramp again, to Maddie’s glee.

  Chapter 21

  Sierra’s phone beeped with an incoming text. Chelsea.

  You up? Call me.

  What if Sierra didn’t want to? What if the things that were happening to her were not something to share? What could Chelsea do about the technician’s clinical observations, anyway?

  The phone beeped again. Got yr test results yet?

  Her sister wasn’t going to let up.

  Sierra hauled herself out of bed and shrugged into her bathrobe. It was midmorning. She should shower. Do something useful. Lying in the semi-darkness staring at the ceiling and thinking melancholy thoughts was not good for her.

  Melancholy thoughts about Auntie Pam.

  Her phone beeped. Sis? U there?

  Sierra jabbed her finger on the button. Later.

  Why? What happened? Call me.

  First she’d spent an evening and night moping that no one cared. Jo and Claire hadn’t caught on that something was wrong. Yeah, she could tell them, but she wanted them to notice.

  Now she was frustrated because her sister wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Perverse hormonal emotions. Sierra took a deep breath and plodded into the bathroom. She scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth and hair before making her way to the kitchenette and flipping on the coffee pot she’d set up the previous evening, as always.

  She stared, mesmerized, as the coffee began to drip and hiss. The fragrance began to tantalize her senses. Maybe life was worth living, after all.

  Not that she had much choice. Auntie Pam hadn’t. Sure, she’d fought the cancer, but to no avail.

  The cell phone rang. Chelsea.

  Sierra let it go three rings before she answered. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself. Talk to me. You had your ultrasound yesterday?”

  “Yeah.”

  Silence for a few seconds. “Are you going to make me drag every sentence out of you?”

  It was a temptation. A childish one. “The endometriosis is pretty bad. The doctor scheduled a biopsy for next week.”

  “Oh, no.”

  Sierra could echo the dread in Chelsea’s voice. “Probably surgery after that.”

  “Doctors can do a lot in surgery these days. Keep your chin up.”

  Chelsea’s brain had gone straight for a bad-result biopsy, too. Interesting.

  “Yes, they can. In this case, it would probably mean a hysterectomy.”

  “A hys — oh, no.” Her sister’s voice deflated. “I wanted to be an aunt some day.”

  Like it was all about Chelsea. “There’s still Jacob.” Sierra hadn’t seen her little brother in nearly a year, but surely he was turning into a responsible human being that a female would someday find attractive.

  Chelsea’s sniff gave her opinion.

  “Besides, it’s not for sure yet. The results might come back negative.” Why put an effort into convincing her sister when she didn’t believe it herself? “I’m trying not to borrow trouble.”

  “That’s good. I’ll keep praying for you. And good news! I got Thanksgiving off, so I’ll be coming up to see you with Mom and Dad and Jakey.”

  Sierra tried to put some enthusiasm in her voice. “Awesome!” Only two weeks away. The biopsy would be over. Maybe she’d know whether she had good news or bad before she had to pretend to give thanks for the bad.

  Her conscience smote her.

  People had far worse things happen to them than uterine cancer. Or even than not being able to have kids.

  “What day is the biopsy?”

  “Thursday.”

  Chelsea took in a sharp breath. “This week?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wow, they’re not wasting any time, are they?”

  The coffee pot finally beeped that it was done brewing. Sierra poured a cup. She’d need the whole pot today. “I noticed that, too.”

  “I’d be far more likely to just book off work and head for Idaho if you didn’t have your girlfriends there to talk to.”

  About them. How did a gal bring up this kind of conversation? Better to wait until she knew what she was dealing with.

  “Sierra?”

  “What? No need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.” She stirred a little honey into her mug.

  “You have talked to Claire and Jo already, haven’t you? You promised me you would.”

  “Um, not yet? Things have been kind of busy.”

  “Sierra Ann Riehl! That’s no excuse. You know it. I know it.”

  “Don’t get all bossy on me, little sister.”

  “You can give that up, too. We’re both adults, and you know you’re being ridiculous about this. It’s what friends are for.”

  Sierra tasted her coffee and added a dollop more honey.

  “Do I need to call Jo myself? I will, you know.”

  Pretty sure her sister didn’t have Jo’s number, but there were ways to find it. Zach was the only veterinarian in town, for instance. A call to his office would get instant attention. “I’ll tell them.”

  “When?”

  Sierra sighed. “Soon.”

  “Define soon.”

  “In the next day or two.” Or possibly three. Or after the biopsy results.

  Chelsea was quiet for a few seconds. “Promise?”
<
br />   “Sure. Soon. I just need the right time.” Like when Zach and Noel weren’t around, but both Jo and Claire were. And they weren’t busy with other things.

  “I’ll be checking up on you. What time will you be home Thursday?”

  “I don’t know. The biopsy is scheduled for ten in Wynnton.”

  “Kay. Text me when you’re done, or I’ll call in the evening.”

  Sierra sighed. “Fine.”

  The call ended. Why couldn’t she be happier that someone cared enough to push past the barrier?

  She’d erected it. She knew it, even if her best friends hadn’t seemed to notice. Gabe had, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t, either. All she wanted was for the hurt to go away. The physical pain, the emotional pain… and the pain she was causing Gabe.

  She had to wait until she knew the answers so she could lay them out in front of him. It wasn’t fair to make him walk through this uncertainty with her. Really, they barely knew each other. He’d run away for sure.

  He would anyway. At least, if she didn’t push him away first.

  * * *

  The door of Nature’s Pantry jangled.

  Gabe looked up to see two of the rowdies from his Sunday school class. Two twelve-year-olds interested in health food? Possible, but unlikely. “Hi, guys. What’s up?”

  Austin elbowed Mark. “Just checking out your place, man.”

  “Oh, yeah? It’s a health food store.” He grinned at the boys. “Not what I expected to do with my life when I was your age.”

  Mark looked around, nodding coolly. “I bet. I doubt we want anything from here. You got any junk food?”

  “Healthy junk food.”

  The kid quirked his eyebrows. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “There are chips flavored with real ingredients rather than chemicals. Candy bars and pop without weird additives.” Gabe paused, unable to resist pouring as much excitement into his next words as he could muster. “Even rice cakes!”

  The two guys glanced at each other, clearly not getting the joke.

  “Rice cakes?” asked Mark at last. “I don’t even know what those are.”