“So I heard,” Josh said from between his teeth. “Generous guy, Harve.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Leo. “Not one to sit around on his duff when there’s work to be done. Not a lazy bone in his body. No, sir.”
Perhaps we can ask that he be canonized, Josh thought.
Admiration vibrated in Leo’s tone. “That he would pitch in and help like this, after all he’s been through. I was wondering—could you give him a hand? I mean he’s helping out Briana and Nealie, too, you know.”
A cloud of gloom descended over Josh. He had just been blackmailed, and neatly, too. He said, “As soon as I’ve finished breakfast, Leo.”
“You won’t go unrewarded,” Leo said. “I want you and Briana and Nealie to come up for supper with us tonight. I won’t take no for an answer. I’ve hardly seen you since you got here. And Inga really wants to get to know you better. You’ve just met in passing so far.”
“Daddy, come eat,” Nealie beseeched.
“Leo, Briana and I’ll talk about it. Now I’d better—”
“You do that,” Leo said cheerfully. “Why, Harve’s at your place now. I can see him from here. Got a bird’s-eye view from up here, you know.”
I know. Oh, yes, I know.
A knock sounded at the door.
Josh looked at Briana, standing at the counter waiting for him. Their eyes met. “What’s this about?” she said apprehensively.
“I’m going to have to help Harve do something,” he muttered.
“But for how long?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Her eyes told him, I don’t want to be alone. I want you to be here when the center calls. But she managed to smile and say, “I’ll be fine.”
Again they heard the knock on the door. Josh went to let in the man who loved Briana almost as much as he did.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JOSH DECIDED what hell was. It was moving around great quantities of dirt and fertilizer. More specifically, hell was moving around great quantities of dirt and fertilizer while Harve gave the orders.
Leo’s largest warehouse held his bulkiest products—special mixes of soil and what he liked to call “enrichment products.” He ordered them from a company in Oregon.
Soil bags were big, heavy, unwieldy and oozed grime. The contents of enrichment products seemed picked for how badly they stank.
Josh hauled, heaved and stacked. Sometimes a bag or bottle had broken in shipment. Soils, both the fine and the coarse, spilled out and haunted the air in a dirty, low-lying fog.
Leaking fertilizer was worse. It settled over Josh in a prickly smut. Fish emulsion, which was liquid, slimed him. Foulness clung around him in an odiferous cloud.
The large containers were for Leo’s use on the farm and for his local customers. The smaller quantities were sold through the catalogs.
Today’s job started with storing the latest shipment from Oregon in the proper niches. Josh lugged the bulky bags and boxes of gallon bottles. Harve told him what to lug and where to lug it.
It was not that Harve did nothing. It was that Harve knew what he was doing. Josh did not and could only follow orders.
“When we finish this,” Harve said, “we start filling the early orders. People buy a lot of this stuff. Sometimes Larry boxes and sends out half a ton of this stuff at a time.”
Josh was stacking cumbersome sacks of fertilizer mix. “How do you know so much about this?” he challenged.
“I used to work for Leo during school vacations,” Harve said, loading a dolly with bags of green sand. “My daddy wanted me to have the experience.”
This made no sense to Josh. A farm was a farm. “Why weren’t you working on your own place?”
“Because I knew all that. This was part of my education. My daddy wanted me to learn other things.”
Like how bad fish emulsion stinks, Josh thought grumpily.
“My daddy was just a regular farmer. But he saw Leo was a pioneer. And an entrepreneur. It was him that said maybe we should follow in Leo’s footsteps. I’m fixing to do that one of these days.”
Josh muttered something unintelligible as he hoisted another sack.
Harve said, “I don’t suppose you ever did anything like this before.”
“Not exactly,” said Josh, although once he had fallen into a wallow with a dead hippopotamus in it. The smell was similar.
“You just go all kinds of places and take pictures, huh?” said Harve.
“That’s about the size of it,” Josh said from between his teeth.
“But sometimes,” Harve said, with a hint of charity, “you have to camp out. I used to be in Boy Scouts. I liked to camp out.”
Try camping out on Mount Everest, thought Josh. Or in the Gobi Desert.
“I’ll give you credit, though,” Harve said, loading another dolly. “When you work, you pull your own weight.”
Josh paused to wipe the grime from his mouth and stare at Harve. The man was paying him a compliment?
Harve didn’t meet his gaze. Instead he grunted and pushed the dolly to the dry fertilizer storage section. He said, “I appreciate your helping at my place. I don’t think I ever thanked you proper.”
Josh was surprised, almost touched. “It’s okay.”
“I’m still kind of in shock,” Harve said. He parked the dolly and began to unload the sandbags. “It helps to keep busy.”
Josh picked up another bag of fertilizer. Its seam ruptured, billowing dust. Josh coughed and hacked. “No wonder Larry gets bronchitis,” he said, wiping his face. “This stuff must be murder on your respiratory system.”
“Yeah, it gets to him, all right,” Harve said without emotion. “He needs more help in winter. Vacations, he can get schoolkids. But full time, a good man is hard to find. I mean a man who knows what he’s doing. This work is specialized.”
Josh thought his present task could be done by a large and not very bright dung beetle. But then he heard the sound of a truck outside. He recognized the rhythm of its motor—Briana was here.
“What the—?” Harve said. “Sounds like Briana. Is she bringing lunch? I thought Inga was.” He pushed up his sleeve and looked at his watch. “It’s too early. It’s not even eleven.”
Josh sprinted toward the warehouse door. He knew why Briana was there. She’d heard from the center. As he ran, he stripped off his dirty gloves, throwing them to the floor.
“Hey!” Harve called. “What’s going on?”
Josh barely heard him. He plunged through the deep snow and reached the truck as Briana was stepping out. He stared at her, his heart thudding.
She looked at him, smiling tremulously. “Four of the eggs are fertilized,” she said. “It’s—it’s a good start. In two more days we’ll know if they’re developing the way they should.”
He felt a lump rising in his throat. “Babe, we’re getting there. Just hang on. We’re getting there.”
He put his arms around her. He didn’t care if he was filthy, and she didn’t seem to mind a bit. She wound her arms around his neck.
“Oh, Josh,” she said, shaking her head. “I was so scared nothing would happen.”
“Now Nealie’s got a chance,” he said, pulling her closer. “And maybe we’ll have a miracle.”
“Congratulations.” She grinned at him. “You’re the proud father of four zygotes.”
“I should have done it today instead of yesterday,” he said, “I’m much more equipped to fertilize things.”
She sniffed at his grimy neck. “Mmm. I smell fish emulsion.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll back off.”
But she kept her arms around him. “To me, right now, you’re fragrant as a rose.”
He bent and kissed her, a long, celebratory kiss, full of affection and wild hope.
From the door of the warehouse, Harve watched in silence, his face stricken.
AT THE KITCHEN WINDOW, Leo was watching the warehouse through the binoculars he pretended he kept for bird-watc
hing. In truth he kept them to keep tabs on his family.
“They’re kissing,” Leo said in horror. “I saw her drive down there and thought, what the hay? And now they’re kissing. Right in front of Harve.”
Inga’s hand flew to her breast. “In front of Harve? Oh, the poor boy! Let me see.”
Leo, grim-faced, thrust the binoculars at her. She seized them, put them to her eyes and stared. “My goodness! They certainly are. Poor Harve. He’s gone inside. He looked so depressed. He was all slumped.”
“He’s always slumped,” Leo grumbled.
“They’ve stopped,” Inga said, adjusting the binoculars. “But they’re still holding hands. Now she’s getting back in the truck. They’re waving goodbye to each other. They seem awfully excited about something.”
Leo’s mouth was grim as he watched Briana drive toward her house. Inga lowered the binoculars. “Leo, you’re right. Something’s going on between those two.”
Leo gave her a reproving look. “You doubted me?”
Inga turned to him, eyes wide. “Oh, not for a minute. I just didn’t think they’d be so—so open.”
Leo said, “He’s got no shame, that man. And it’s like he puts a spell on her.” He stamped through the kitchen, banged open its door and marched into the living room. He threw himself into his recliner.
“When Nealie was here the other night, that’s all she could talk about—Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Briana used to talk about me like that. She never gave me a lick of trouble until he showed up.”
Inga followed him. “You’re upset. Let me make you a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want a cup of tea. I want my daughter to come to her senses.” He put his elbow on the arm of the chair and settled his chin on his hand. “Nealie wants them to get back together. Phooey! It’d be a disaster.”
Inga sat in the rocker next to him and touched his arm. “Children of divorced parents often feel that way, Leo. It’s normal.”
“Why can’t Briana get back together with Harve?” Leo demanded. “What’s she want with a man who runs all over the world taking pictures of penguins and yaks? I’ve talked to him. He doesn’t know a summer squash from a snap bean. He doesn’t even want to know.”
“There are none so blind as those who will not see,” quoted Inga. She rose, took a small pillow and put it behind Leo’s head. “There. That should be a little more comfortable.”
Leo settled against the pillow. It was more comfortable. He repeated her words. “None so blind as those who will not see. That’s Briana, too. How to make her see Harve’s the man for her?”
Inga sat in the rocking chair and took up the sewing basket. “In my very, very humble opinion,” she began.
Leo leaned closer to her, his eyes narrowing. “In your opinion, what?”
“Josh Morris can’t be here much longer,” Inga said. “Let Harve do what Harve does best. And in the meantime…”
Once again she did not finish the thought, and Leo leaned nearer still. “And in the meantime what?”
“In the meantime,” Inga said sweetly, “we just keep trying to make sure that Josh and Briana have as little time alone together as possible.”
She drew out the scissors and held them up to the light. “After all,” she said, “it’s for Briana’s own good.”
She tested the scissors on the empty air. They went snip, snip, as if cutting time itself.
AND TIME WAS CUT. That night Leo insisted that Briana, Josh and Nealie join him, Inga and Harve for supper. Leo said Inga had been planning for the event all day and was making her special lemon-minted lamb and vegetable pilaf.
“Besides,” Leo told Briana on the phone, “I’ve been wanting us all to have a big family dinner since Josh got here. I know we have our differences, but it’s important that we try to get along. For Nealie’s sake.”
Briana sighed and finally agreed. All evening, Harve and Leo talked about nothing except compost and vegetables. Larry was still sick and stayed home, so Glenda came with the boys. She seemed delighted to have an evening out.
Inga was an excellent cook and charming company. Her most amazing feat was making Glenda’s rowdy sons behave almost like little gentlemen.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Glenda marveled when Inga smoothly intervened and kept Rupert from spitting water at Neville.
“There are ways,” Inga assured her. “I taught so many years that there aren’t many things kids can put over on me.”
“I thought you taught high school,” Briana said, puzzled.
“I did,” Inga answered, talking Neville’s hand out of the salad bowl. “But I taught elementary school for seven years. After I got my master’s, I switched to high school. I love children. But I don’t put up with nonsense from them.”
“I wish I had the knack,” Glenda said sadly. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.”
“Any time, my dear,” Inga said. “I’m flattered you’d ask.” She turned her attention to Josh, who was helping Nealie cut her meat.
“And you, Josh,” Inga said. “It’s so good to have a talk with you at last. I’ve always wanted to know a world traveler. The rest of us must seem like provincials to you. Just stay-at-homes.”
Inga’s tone was friendly and bright. But Briana saw irritation spark deep in Josh’s eyes. “I don’t consider my wife or my daughter provincials, Mrs. Swenson,” he said. “Nor anyone else here.”
Inga looked contrite. “Oh, excuse me,” she begged. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just that you’ve traveled so many places, and the rest of us have hardly traveled at all.”
“I’m through eating,” said Rupert. “I want to watch television.”
“Then say, ‘May I please be excused,’” Inga said.
“May I please be excused?” Rupert echoed in disbelief.
“Me, too,” cried Neville, and Marsh banged his spoon, indicating he wanted to go with his brothers.
“Yes, you may,” said Inga. “But keep the volume down.”
Rupert slid from his chair and vanished into the living room. Neville sped after him, and Marsh toddled behind.
Inga sipped her coffee and turned to Josh again. “I’d love to hear some of your travel stories. Leo says you’ve been to some dangerous places.”
“They’re not dangerous if you’re careful,” Josh said.
“Daddy got bit by a tarantula in Costa Rica,” Nealie volunteered. “And he nearly got hit by a Molotov cocktail in Indonesia.”
“My goodness,” Inga said, “I bet you wish he had a safer job.”
“No,” Nealie said, taking a tiny nibble of lamb. “I’m proud of him.”
“And you should be,” Inga said. She looked at Briana, and her eyes said, This poor child really doesn’t understand, does she? And you, my dear—how did you ever live with such insecurity?
Briana’s heart rapped angrily in her chest. Inga turned her attention to Josh. “How long until your next assignment?”
Again Briana saw a glitter of displeasure in Josh’s gaze. He said, “I’m not sure. It could come within a couple of weeks. Maybe sooner. It’s a question of permits.”
“How lovely you’re here now,” Inga said. “It’s like fate sent you when you were needed most. What with Leo convalescing and Larry sick and Harve trying to run two places at once, we so need an extra hand now. Harve says you were such a help today.”
Oh, no, Briana thought with a sick feeling. I should have seen this coming. She’s backing him into a corner so he’ll have to keep playing the part of the hired man.
Inga said, “Harve says it’s a blessing to have you around. I hope we can keep counting on you.”
“It really was good of you to help do Larry’s work,” Glenda said shyly. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Briana knew that Glenda meant this. There was little guile in her sister-in-law, and her thanks seemed heartfelt.
Inga said to Josh, “Leo says you may be sent to Burma or Pitcairn Island. They’re both quite rem
ote, aren’t they? Why do you have to go so far away?”
“I don’t know that I will. It takes a lot of red tape to get either place. Both assignments may fall through. It could be someplace else.”
“Let’s hope it’s someplace safe,” said Inga. She smiled at Nealie. “I suppose we should clean off the table. Do you want to help the women, Nealie, like a big girl?”
“No, thank you,” said Nealie. “I don’t like women’s work. I’ll stay here with the men.”
Inga tried to laugh off Nealie’s answer. She nodded toward Leo and Harve, who were having an intense discussion about muskmelons. “Oh, you don’t want to listen to these men. They’re just talking gardens, as usual.”
“Daddy’s not,” Nealie said. “Somebody’s got to talk to him. So I will.” She put her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand and gazed adoringly at Josh. “Tell me again about how the whales sing.”
THE NEXT DAY passed in a blur for Briana. When she and Penny weren’t working in the office, she and Glenda worked in the greenhouses, thinning seedlings, repotting the tomatoes and planting herbs.
Josh had been pressed into working on more projects with Harve. Most of them were hard labor and kept him far from her all day.
That evening after supper, Inga and Leo dropped in at Briana’s uninvited. Inga was taking Leo for his constitutional, she said. They stayed until Nealie’s bedtime.
When they left, Josh swore under his breath.
Nealie blinked in surprise. “What did you say, Daddy?”
“Nothing,” Briana said hastily. “Come on, Nealie, bath time.”
“Will Daddy read me a story?”
Josh said, “Daddy will. Now scoot.”
By the time he came downstairs, Briana had poured him a glass of brandy and settled by the fire. He went to her, picked his brandy from the coffee table and settled beside her.
“Alone at last,” he said. “Unless Harve is hiding under the couch.”
Briana put her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said miserably. “Really, I am.”
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