Dandelions for Dinner (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 4)

by Valerie Comer

  Heads nodded around the table, and Sierra leaned forward. “Allison and I talked briefly about trying to manage a few classes in the house or pole barn, but maybe we should simply cancel the summer session.”

  “We only have five people signed up for it.” Allison let out a long breath. “I’d hoped for more, but we need to figure out better advertising, I guess.”

  “If your nephew comes, you’ll be busy settling him in over the summer, too.” Jo’s face scrunched up in thought. “Rescheduling might be best. When Gabe gets back with that shiny marketing diploma, we can put him to work on a campaign. By then we should have a better idea of the timeline, right?”

  Whoa. “Just like that? Everything can be changed?”

  Claire chuckled. “We’re an adaptable bunch. It’s not that we’re lazy, but between the windows and your nephew, delaying sounds like the best thing. Want me to contact the students while you’re away?”

  Relief washed over Allison. “If you would? Thanks.” The gang at Green Acres? The best.

  Chapter 9

  “Sorry, man. We’re not going fishing after all. I didn’t have your cell number to let you know.”

  Brent stood on the deck of the straw bale house, fly rod and tackle box in hand. “Uh. Okay.” Now what was he supposed to do with his weekend? He’d given up going back to the city for this fishing expedition.

  Noel stepped aside and beckoned Brent. “Come on in, anyway. We’ve got breakfast on.”

  He really shouldn’t, but the smell of sizzling bacon nearly made his knees weak. The Sizzling Skillet served okay food, but he was tired of their three breakfast specials.

  “Don’t stand on the step all day.” Noel jerked his chin, grinning. “You’re letting all the warmth out of the house.”

  “Thanks.” Brent followed the other guy inside. He hated being stood up, but Noel was right. They hadn’t exchanged numbers.

  “Throw a couple of more eggs in the pan,” hollered Noel. “Brent’s here for breakfast.” He looked at Brent. “Want a coffee, man?”

  Allison turned from where she’d been sitting at the peninsula counter, pecking away at a laptop. “I’ll pour you a cup. What would you like in it?”

  “Just black, thanks.” If you’re going to drink coffee, drink it like a man, his grandfather used to say. The Callahan one. The Korean one was into ginseng tea.

  Allison rounded the peninsula into the kitchen.

  He watched her reach for a mug from above the sink then fill it with steaming black liquid. That’d go down great.

  “Have a seat at the table,” Claire called. “Food’s on its way.”

  “I’ll give you a hand, hon.” Noel pointed at a chair then strode into the kitchen, passing Allison on her way out with Brent’s coffee.

  Brent figured that’s where he was supposed to sit at a table set for five. “I thought Zach and Jo ate here, too?” he said to Allison as she handed him the cup. His fingers brushed hers.

  Her gaze jerked to his face as she relinquished the handle. “Uh, not usually for breakfast on account of Maddie.” She backed up a step.

  Somehow Brent’s fingers felt chilled after Allison’s touch. “Thanks for the coffee. And for the muffins yesterday. I can’t remember when I’ve ever had pumpkin before.”

  “It’s Claire’s recipe, but I think they turned out pretty well.”

  Right, she’d told him she didn’t cook. Then why had she gone to the trouble of baking muffins and bringing a few up to the building site at afternoon coffee time?

  Miss Priss had done it for him. She was warming up a little. Or maybe that was just him doing some wishing. Whoa, Callahan. She was a client. In a few short months he’d be back in Coeur d’Alene or wherever Patrick sent him next.

  Noel set platters on the table as Sierra whisked in the door and took her place at the table beside Claire. Allison reached for the chair next to his.

  “Allow me.” He pulled it out and seated her.

  She cast him a puzzled glance.

  Well, his mama had taught him how to treat a woman, though he’d done his best to forget for many years. He couldn’t undo the past, but he could do better in the future, so long as he kept his mind corralled. He had a past he couldn’t saddle on any God-fearing woman, and he wasn’t going back to the other kind.

  Case dismissed.

  Allison slid a poached egg onto the little mound of sautéed kale on her plate and passed him the platter.

  No fingers touched. Good.

  She added one slice of bacon and handed him the plate.

  “I fixed two for you, Allison,” Claire said from across the table. “You’ll need the energy today.”

  Allison shook her head. “This is plenty. More than I’m used to for breakfast.”

  The girl didn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive. No wonder she had no padding.

  “About today,” Noel said after he’d given thanks for the food. “Zach and I will be moving furniture and boxes around for at least a few hours. I feel bad that I couldn’t let you know.”

  Brent’s confusion must’ve shown on his face.

  “Allison is trying to get custody of her nephew, so we’re rearranging the duplexes,” Sierra said. “Really, you guys can probably go fishing in an hour or two. There’s not that much heavy stuff.”

  The door opened and a whisper of cold air accompanied Zach into the dining room. “Any food left?”

  Claire set her napkin down, looking like she might get to her feet. “Want a coffee?”

  Zach waved a hand. “I’ll get it if there’s some made.”

  “Sure, and there’s food,” Noel said as Zach passed the table. “Grab a plate and help yourself.”

  “Where are Jo and Maddie?” asked Sierra.

  “Still asleep. Maddie was up half the night screaming over some tooth, I guess. They’re both exhausted.”

  The guy didn’t look that rested, either. He brought an empty plate and a fork along with a cup of coffee. His fork poised over the platters of food. “Everyone had enough?”

  “Allison?” asked Claire pointedly.

  “Go for it, Zach.” Allison stirred the kale around on her plate. She’d eaten about half the egg, Brent guessed. And a few bites of bacon.

  The Sizzling Skillet did the average decent breakfast, but their eggs had no color and their bacon tasted fake. This meal, however… “Thanks for the invitation, guys. This food is amazing.”

  Zach’s fork, loaded with egg, stopped halfway to his mouth. “I didn’t mean to do you out of food, Callahan.”

  “No, this will be lots. Really. It’s just that I’ve eaten in restaurants too much lately.”

  “Mostly the Skillet, I imagine,” Claire said. “There’s not much else in town.”

  Noel chuckled. “There’s always the diner.”

  Brent shook his head. “I can handle that no more than once a week.”

  “Poor guy.” True sympathy oozed from Claire’s voice. “I don’t think they have any ingredients besides salt and grease.”

  “Potatoes. Something that’s related to buns. A meat look-alike.” Noel reached for his coffee cup as Claire jabbed him in the ribs. “Hey, I had to eat there a couple of times back in the day. When I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Sounded like there was a story in there somewhere.

  Claire shook her head and grabbed the coffee pot. “Anyone want a refill?”

  Brent nodded when the pot poised over his cup. “Thanks.”

  Zach pushed his scraped plate away and had a sip of coffee. “How long do you think moving that stuff will take?”

  Allison leaned forward. “Look, I can probably manage…”

  “It will go faster with all of us. No problem. I thought we’d settled that last night.”

  They’d said something about Allison’s nephew. Brent turned to her. “Your nephew is coming?”

  She nodded, gaze fixed on her plate where most of her food sat cut in tiny pieces. “I hope so, anyway. I’m flying to Tucson for a
few days to see if I can make it happen.”

  “That’s cool.” Silence all around. Okay, he was on his own. “What’s the situation? If you don’t mind my asking.” He didn’t know any young woman who went around seeking custody of someone else’s kid.

  “My sister and her boyfriend were finally arrested for drug trafficking,” she said with satisfaction. “It’s my chance to get my nephew out of a bad environment if everything works out.”

  Brent should be glad she’d be off the job site and out of his hair for a few days. Instead, he suspected he’d miss her frequent visits. And the whole drug thing sounded rough. He’d dabbled too close to the edge himself, back in the day. He glanced her way. “I’ll pray for you and your nephew. How old is he?”

  “Not quite four.” Allison’s face clouded. “He’s been through so much. Used as a human shield during the police raid.”

  Brent felt sick to his stomach to think of anyone using a kid that way.

  “Are you a Christian, Brent?” Zach asked.

  “I am. God pulled me from a pretty bad place. I’m thankful He loved me enough to claim me.”

  “That’s great,” Sierra said. “We’ve all joined forces to pray for Finnley in the past few weeks, and already God is doing big things. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he’s here, safe and sound.”

  Brent glanced at Allison. “Finnley?”

  She shrugged. “That’s his name, yes.”

  “I’m happy to join my prayers with yours.”

  Allison glanced at him from below long eyelashes. “Thanks.”

  “In fact, why don’t I give you guys a hand with whatever needs moving?”

  Noel chuckled. “We’ll be out along the creek in no time. You’re on, buddy.”

  * * *

  Why had Brent insisted on helping? Allison made herself small in the corner while the three big guys hauled boxes and arranged furniture at Sierra’s direction.

  She should be thankful, probably, but he made her uncomfortable. She’d gotten a bit used to having Noel and Zach around the farm. They were safely married and didn’t seem to be headed in a bad direction yet. But Brent? He’d admitted he had big problems in his past. No one else may have caught that, but she had. She’d be watching for his relapse.

  “Where would you like this dresser, Allison?” Noel asked. He and Brent each stood at one end of a long low piece.

  The thrift store sounded like a good destination. On a good day she’d call this motley excuse for a style “Early Salvation Army.” She’d go through her parents’ house before she sold it and bring the best pieces here for her little house. Provided the thing ever got built.

  Right, the guys were waiting. “In my room, I guess. I doubt Finnley has much stuff. He can have the smaller one.”

  “I feel badly that we never painted the walls in here.” Sierra hooked her long hair behind her ear. “It’s so ugly.”

  No kidding.

  “Well, we still could,” Noel said. “Allison will be gone for a few days. I mean, you and Jo and Claire can. You don’t want me with a brush.”

  Sierra’s face brightened. “You’re right, we could. Put the furniture in the middle, guys. Leave room to get around.”

  “Really?” The word tumbled out before Allison could rein it in. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Sure. Painting is fun.” Sierra rubbed her hands together. “What colors do you like? There are some cans with leftovers somewhere.”

  How could Allison gently tell her how much she disliked the vivid tones on Sierra’s walls? “White is good. Or maybe a light gray. I can leave money for new cans.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  Allison had a feeling her comment wasn’t about the cash. “Very. I like things clean and bright.”

  Sierra looked about to keel over in faint.

  Brent set his end of the dresser down and brushed his hands together. “Sounds good.”

  Allison narrowed her gaze at him. He was going to be busy enough building her house. There wasn’t time for him to get involved in the duplex too. Was there? And if so, why?

  He grinned at her. “The little guy might appreciate some color for his room, though.”

  Who knew what a four-year-old would like? One who’d been shuffled around and abused? Probably everywhere they’d lived had been beige. Allison shrugged. “If anyone has any ideas for Finnley’s space, go for it. I have no clue.”

  Sierra’s face brightened.

  Allison pointed at her. “No purple. No turquoise.” Oops, had she said that out loud?

  Her friend laughed. “I wasn’t thinking the purple, but the turquoise wouldn’t be so bad for a little boy. Honestly. Gabe liked it on his apartment walls.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I’ll go see what there is in the storage room.” Sierra bounded to her feet. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “I need to go check on Jo and Maddie before we go fishing.” Zach strode to the door. “We still up for that?”

  Noel nodded. “I’ll make some sandwiches.”

  There was no way this little apartment could be a welcoming space in the few days it would take her to get back to Idaho with Finnley. If she were able to, of course. Even so, it had to be better than where he had been living. He’d be safe here. She was Queen of Safe.

  “This is a good thing you’re doing.”

  Allison jerked and focused on Brent’s face. Hadn’t he left with Noel? Apparently not. “Uh, well, he’s family.” About all the family she had left. She didn’t want to count Lori.

  “Family doesn’t matter to everyone.” His dark eyes drilled into hers.

  What was hiding in his past?

  He lifted a shoulder. “Don’t worry about the construction while you’re gone. We’ll keep things moving just fine.”

  Of course he would. He was the site foreman, after all. She nodded. “Thanks.”

  He quirked a grin that reached his eyes. “You’ll see. You’ll be impressed by the progress when you get back.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at him. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  Chapter 10

  Allison followed Jason Wong down the corridor at Tucson Medical Center. He pressed the buzzer at the double doors of the pediatric ward. A moment later a plump middle-aged woman opened the door, her face wreathed in a smile. “Jason.” Her gaze shifted to Allison then back to the social worker. “What may I help you with today? Are you here to see Finnley?”

  He nodded. “This is Finnley’s aunt, Allison Hart. We’ve run a preliminary background check on her and, so far, she seems clean. There is a lot more paperwork to go, but it looks like she may be taking Finnley home with her when he’s released.”

  Marge’s eyes narrowed as she took Allison in. After a bit she nodded and put the smile back on.

  Did that mean she’d passed preliminary inspection by the head nurse, too? Allison could only hope.

  “Physically, Finnley is healing well. Did Mr. Wong tell you the damages?”

  Allison nodded. The little guy’s left shoulder had been dislocated and the ulna in that arm broken. Two broken ribs. And bruises.

  “Children’s bones heal quickly. Finnley’s cast should be off in a few weeks. We’ll send his records to your doctor, so do leave that information at the desk.”

  Allison thought quickly. “I haven’t lived in Galena Landing long, but I’ll ask a friend for a recommendation and make sure to get that to you in the next day or two.”

  “Sounds good.” Marge looked her in the eye. “The bruises to his body are already fading. The bruises to his soul will take much longer. Are you certain you’re up for it?”

  Show no weakness. “Of course, I’m sure. He’s my nephew, and I’ve been wishing since the day he was born that he could have a secure home. That my sister would smarten up and see what she was doing to herself and to her child.” A two-by-six across the skull would have been nice. Maybe this arrest was God’s version.

  “It’s not
going to be easy, Ms. Hart.” Marge ambled ahead of them down the bright hallway. “He’s got some issues. His imaginary friend is the most obvious manifestation.”

  Allison choked back a snort before it could erupt. “Plenty of children have secret companions.”

  “Indeed they do, Ms. Hart.” Marge lifted an ample shoulder. “You’ll see.” She paused in front of a door on the right. “Do you want to meet him now?”

  Jason nodded. “That’s why we’re here.”

  Whoa. Allison had thought she was ready. The avenging princess swooping in to save the child in distress. But what was she really signing up for? Could she do this? Once the step had been taken, her life would never be the same. Everything would revolve around this boy she’d only met a few times since Lori moved back out of the house after his first birthday. She couldn’t mess this kid up further. Would a foster home be better for him? More secure than a single aunt with issues of her own?

  “Are you ready, Ms. Hart?”

  Sierra had prayed for Finnley, for God to intervene. She’d been joined by Claire and Noel and Jo and Zach. Even Brent said he was praying. Allison straightened her back. God had this. She had to believe it and step forward.

  “Yes, please, Marge. I’d like to see my nephew.” Allison looked in through the open section of the Dutch-style door. A bright playroom contained a dozen children or so. A few sat in wheelchairs with IV bags attached. A woman sat on a green sectional and read a book to several wan faces. And off in the corner, near a tree sculpture leaning out from the wall sat a little boy in striped pajamas and a cast, pushing a car back and forth.

  His bowed head revealed a mass of black hair in need of cutting, and his repetitive action reminded Allison of her leg jitters. Finnley didn’t look like he was playing on purpose. If she could see his eyes, she had no doubt they’d be staring at nothing.

  She caught her breath. He looked so alone. So defenseless. Please, Lord, help me. Give me what I need to make this little guy’s life better.