“First, the Nevada license is history. Did you know once you move to California you have ten days to get a new license? I’m within the law, Deputy Cody. Second, April 30 is off by two weeks, just two weeks! And I’ll be twenty-seven next May 15th. Third, the only other lie on that license is the color of my hair. But that doesn’t count because women change their hair color all the time. Satisfied?”
“Really? What’s your real hair color?”
“Trust me, Deputy; you aren’t nearly ready for that kind of top-secret detail.”
Chapter 13 Book 2
As the days grew cooler, the nights chillier, as trees dropped their leaves, the fall tapestry of browns and golds dominated the landscape around the grounds of the old Victorian. The walkways, the courtyards, the front flower beds, exploded in an array of fall buds. Hearty marigolds and coreopsis blossomed alongside dazzling firecracker and colorful ice plants.
Because of Jordan’s pregnancy and the fact that she still had the B & B to run, guests to tend to, and a toddler to care for, Hayden took on most of the day-to-day instructions from Francine Foley at Taggert Organic Farms.
Taking on the additional responsibilities, Hayden stayed busy.
Early morning could find Hayden spending time with Fran, following her around like a baby chick, taking a tablet full of notes, or hanging out in the vast vegetable garden dutifully trying to tend to five acres of kale, spinach, carrots, broccoli, sweet corn, and various kinds of lettuce.
If she wasn’t pulling weeds in the vegetable garden, she could be found tracking the growing stages of two different kinds of melons, marking the progress of the ripening gourds, or helping pick pumpkins they would sell down at Taggert’s roadside stand, which he kept open rain or shine, April through mid-November.
If she got bored there, she could wander up and down the rows and rows of McIntosh apple and cherry trees in the orchard, doing her best to recognize the early stages of the dreaded powdery mildew, the enemy of so many farmers and put an end to it by pruning out any infectious buds.
Each day she learned something different, something more fascinating about the farm than the day before.
It seems old man Taggert hadn’t certified his farm organic until sixteen years earlier when he’d decided to do away with using high concentrations of pesticides. Going low impact and using the minimum application of the stuff meant his farm would be recognized as the finest organic supplier in the area.
The old farmer had relied heavily on his right-hand man, Will Foley, over the years to come up with the healthiest ways of producing the best varieties of fruits and vegetables. Will believed strongly in good cultural habits, like plenty of air circulation and limiting the use of fertilizer. According to Will, both practices made for healthy plants.
With four outbuildings, complete with tidy refrigerated facilities used for packing, they could ship the freshest produce to the immediate surrounding markets without relying on an outside source. With their own greenhouse, which housed all kinds of baby seedlings, they could ensure a steady crop rotation while keeping production at a premium.
She’d never seen fat black-and-white cows up close and personal, certainly never watched them plod along to graze in pasture land on grass high above cliffs that offered some of the best views of the Pacific Ocean she’d seen yet.
The day she got her first peek inside the milking station, she realized she might as well be living on another planet. How fifteen cows could produce so much milk twice a day was nothing short of amazing!
While Hayden scribbled all pertinent info and instructions down on her pad for future reference, she looked over at the boss and found Nick deep in conversation with Will about when and how to apply the natural fertilizer he had developed.
The look on Nick’s face had said it all.
They had a lot to learn and a short amount of time to do it in. The task at hand, running a farm they had no experience running, was proving to be a challenge for both of them.
She felt bad for Nick because he seemed to be overwhelmed at the prospect of taking on a new business venture he knew very little about.
In his previous life, in addition to serving in Iraq, he had been an investment banker. The knowledge hadn’t been all that surprising to Hayden. Nick appeared to be extremely savvy in all things technical and corporate. But she suspected he was nervous about taking over the farm. And who could blame him?
Taggert Organic Farms was a complex operation and new territory.
It was a new life for Hayden as well, one Emile Reed could never have imagined.
Knowing she was helping to relieve the burden for Nick and Jordan though, two people she not only cared about but also admired, brought a great deal of personal satisfaction to her. She’d never once experienced such a sense of achievement during the four years she’d spent as Dochenko’s accountant.
Personal fulfillment aside, her job description read like a gigantic to-do list. That is, until Nick brought on a full-time farm manager. But until that happened part of the responsibility fell on Hayden.
She should have been nervous. But her devotion to Nick and Jordan refused to send Hayden into panic mode.
After all, keeping the books she could handle. But filling Will and Francine Foley’s shoes was a huge undertaking and a different matter entirely. Thank goodness they could still rely on the two full-time brothers, Silas and Sammy, who harvested and tended the crops, as well as their two cousins, Marty and Ben, who were dedicated to overseeing the packing, shipping, and delivery. All four were young, not even twenty-five yet, but had been working the farm for a couple of years and all seemed to have excellent work habits.
Because she took the job seriously, her mornings belonged to Fran, learning the farm routine and schedule as well as Nick did.
Before clocking in at the Diner though, Hayden made sure she spent at least two hours either in Fran’s kitchen or Jordan’s, soaking up as much info about the ins and outs of how best to utilize all the fresh fruits and vegetables they grew in abundance. The way Hayden saw it, she could take what she learned and pass it on to customers at the roadside stand whenever they asked about the seasonal crops.
Even though Jordan was the more professional cook of the two women, Hayden learned everything she could from both.
From Jordan she got proficiency and a skill that tended to lean more on the expert side, more like what you’d get from a five-star chef. And although Frannie’s way was considerably more downhome, the “throw it in the pot and see how it all turned out” approach, Hayden couldn’t argue with the delicious results, especially when it came to Frannie’s cornbread, or her cherry or apple cobblers.
What she discovered was that both women might create pot roast from two different angles. But both angles made for mouth-watering meals.
One thing both women agreed on though was that to be successful in the kitchen it all started in the garden. To make great dishes, you had to have the freshest ingredients and nothing could be fresher than from the garden to the table.
And growing anything seemed to be Fran’s specialty. The woman had a green thumb to envy. Hayden found Francine a genuine delight to be around. Fran was bubbly and energetic, a contrast to what she had expected from a woman who had been doing the same chores for over thirty years. Her enthusiasm it seemed never waned. Fran’s love of the farm seemed to show through everything she did. Hayden admired the way the woman tended the garden, the way she babied her seedlings along in the greenhouse, even the care she gave the mulching and weeding.
In a matter of a few short days, Hayden discovered a side to herself she didn’t know existed, the creative side of working with her hands. As exhausting as the physical work was, it was also rewarding. Imagine, being able to put a seed in some dirt and watch it sprout with a little TLC and water.
Hayden couldn’t wait to grow something of her own. So when Fran gave her rosemary and basil seedlings, she rushed out to The Plant Habitat to buy containers to set on the little lan
ding outside her apartment door.
But thanks to both Jordan and Fran, Hayden’s confidence kicked in for real when she started learning how to cook for herself. Jordan had insisted they replace the stovetop in the studio, which allowed Hayden to try out a few simple pasta and rice dishes on her own, like homework assignments. The results turned out to be actual home-cooked meals.
But as much personal fulfillment as Hayden got shadowing Fran and Jordan, she still had to wait tables Tuesday through Saturday evenings down at the Diner which left her Sundays and Mondays to do with as she pleased.
Like today, she and Ethan were out on the water, celebrating the fact he turned the big three-three. They were spending time together like a date, like a couple, on the deck of his sleek, twenty-two-foot sloop, sailing to an unknown destination because he had refused to tell her where they were going.
As the boat rocked and swayed, she stood at the railing getting used to the motion of the boat. As it made its way farther out into the choppy water of the bay leaving behind the shoreline, Hayden scanned the smattering of people sitting along the strip of sandy beach. Soon the beachgoers grew smaller and smaller as the wind caught the sails and the boat picked up speed. The people stretched out on beach towels or blankets became dots until all she could see were the colorful assortment of umbrellas, sticking up out of the sand.
She turned to look at the birthday boy and his dog. Grisham, at the moment, stood next to his master, content to thump his tail happily back and forth on Ethan’s leg. Meanwhile, Ethan steered them farther out onto the open sea.
“How long have you been sailing, Ethan?”
“Since I was maybe eight or nine. My dad always believed in taking his sons out on the water, to fish or snorkel. We always had a boat of one kind or another. Taking us out on the water was one way he could spend some alone time with us telling stories about our roots. It was a great way for him to make sure he got and kept our undivided attention, making sure we kept our Native past alive in here.” Ethan placed a hand over his heart.
“What kind of stories?”
His face crinkled with amusement. “How did I know you were going to want to hear one of our legends?”
Her lips curved. “Using your intuition on me already, Ethan, and we aren’t even thirty minutes into our sail. Come on, tell me a story.”
He gave Grisham’s head a rub, giving him time to think. “Once there lived a beautiful, but headstrong, young maiden with long raven hair, named Nahala. Her beauty attracted many suitors in her own village. But Nahala would have none of them. As it turned out, she had already given her heart to the young and strong Manaku from another settlement nearby, a man her father did not approve of.
“For some time they were able to keep their love a secret. But as often happens, the young lovers became impatient to start their life together. So on the night of the full moon, Manaku and Nahala decided to pack up their belongings and run away. She hadn’t been gone long though, when Nahala’s father and brothers discovered her missing. They immediately set out to find her, only to learn to their surprise there was not one set of tracks, but two. Fearing she’d been taken against her will by one of their enemies, they were determined to find her and bring her back.
“Letting the full moon guide their way, the couple walked fast and far, far away from both of their villages, far away from Nahala’s family who sought to bring them back. Their journey brought them to the Bay. But by that time, in the distance, they could hear the cries of her father and brothers. As Nahala’s family grew closer, the lovers became frightened that if found they would be separated forever and never see each other again. When they spotted a giant condor flying overhead, Manaku called out to him for help. The huge bird heard the man’s pleas and took pity on the young lovers.
“The condor spread its wings and soared upward, up high into the night sky, so high his wings blocked out the light of the full moon, giving the young lovers enough time to find a cave overlooking the bay where they could hide.
“With the condor hiding the moon, without its light to guide them, Nahala’s father and brothers might as well have been blind, for even though they searched and searched well into the night, they found no sign of them. Inside the cave, Manaku and Nahala shared their smoked fish with the condor and promised to feed him forever and always if he would continue to hide the moon so they would be safe and be able to live together for always.
“And to this day, Nahala and Manaku live by the bay with the condor, hidden from all who seek them. That is why my people took to calling the bay, ’initap’i’ a nimeyesh a ’awa’y, or the bay of the hidden moon.”
Hayden smiled into his warm brown eyes, felt that familiar tug in the belly. “You’re a good storyteller, Ethan. Tell me, do you play the guitar as well as you spin a yarn?”
“The guitar is a hobby, although I do love music. And the story is centuries old.” He really had no interest in sailing today or telling stories. No, what he wanted to devote his full attention to at the moment were Hayden’s long legs, which he could see because she’d worn a pair of low-riding, hip-hugging white shorts. He’d been hoping for a bikini, a red one, but knew it was the wrong time of year to wear such things on the bay to go sailing. Even though the sun felt warm the wind had a bite to it. So he blessed his good fortune for the sight of those legs in the shorts and didn’t complain.
When she caught him staring at her legs, she offered, “Good thing I picked up these cargo shorts at that little touristy shop in town. My wardrobe is rather limited these days. There aren’t many places in town you can shop for clothes, especially if you want the latest fashion. And I went the entire summer without indulging in a pair of shorts, can you imagine that? You don’t think they’re out of style do you?”
“I think they’re fine, more than fine. Once we get out into the open sea, I’ll be glad to show you―exactly how fine I think they are.”
She giggled. “Ethan, where are we going?”
“Someplace private, someplace where we can be alone. I threatened Brent with bodily harm if he so much as thinks about calling me out on my day off.”
“No news on Kent and Sissy?”
He shook his head. “I’m not talking shop today, Hayden.” To make his point, he changed the subject. “What’s in the cooler you brought?” He did his best to keep his eyes on the horizon and not on those points of interest under the green hoodie she wore. The woman had a stunning body and didn’t seem to know it. She certainly didn’t obsess on clothes like other women he’d known.
“A birthday picnic. Jordan helped me put it together. There’s lobster salad to die for, shrimp salad, a melon fruit salad with strawberry vinaigrette, and fudge cake.”
“Jordan’s fudge cake is superb.”
“I creamed the butter and sugar for the icing,” she added proudly. “And I put together the melon salad and mixed the vinaigrette.”
“Did you now?” He grinned. “Thank you. I know cooking’s not your forte.”
“Not yet, but I’m determined to learn. I made an omelet this morning for breakfast. Okay, it turned into really tasty scrambled eggs, but the point is I tried.”
“Really? Why?”
“Because I’ve always wanted to learn and now that there is no sixty-hour work weeks keeping me chained to a desk, I can enjoy taking the time to do it right. Although, I am swamped out at the farm. But if I cook, there’s no need for takeout, unless you count what I take from Jordan’s, which I don’t. No fast food either unless you count the Diner—”
“Which you don’t,” he teased.
“Might as well learn to fix my own meals. Besides, I won’t be living in the studio forever.”
“Still thinking about Autumn’s house for a bookstore?”
She sighed and took a seat on the deck. “I’m afraid that idea was a little premature. I found out the bookstore in San Sebastian went bust. I don’t see how Pelican Pointe could support one. Besides, now that Nick and Jordan have given me the task o
f learning everything I can about the farm, keeping the books, I’m determined not to let them down.”
“You always this loyal to your friends, Hayden?”
She thought about that for a minute and answered with certainty. “I haven’t had that many since college and I didn’t really go to the trouble of keeping in touch with them after I graduated. But when you’re starting over in a new place with nothing and you happen upon such terrific people like Nick and Jordan, it makes you realize that with everything bad in the world, it reaffirms your faith that there are also good people out there.”
“So the bookstore thing is off.”
“Pretty much. I’ve put the business idea on hold for now anyway because I’m too busy out at the farm to think about anything else. How far out on the water are we going?”
“We’ll sail out to Treasure Island and back.”
“Really? The water’s beautiful today. I wouldn’t mind learning to sail. You know Jordan mentioned they might need a tour guide in the spring. Taking people out to Treasure Island and back, maybe explore the shipwreck while they’re at it.”
“Ah, the shipwreck. Scott mentioned that a couple of times.”
“You knew him, didn’t you, when he was alive?”
“Some. He was older, maybe by three years. I’d see him around town every now and then with his grandfather whenever I was over here visiting my grandmother. And of course everyone knew he’d lost his parents when he was little.”
“I think I would’ve liked having him as a friend―in real life, I mean.”
Ethan couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Scott could talk your ear off if you let him.”
“You know he thinks Jordan is angry with him.”
Ethan’s brows drew together in a frown. “Hayden, are you seriously telling me you’re having conversations with Scott, for real?”
She drew in a breath, slightly embarrassed for having mentioned it. “What if I told you I’ve had several? The first time that day I went for a hike and you thought I’d gotten lost. I found the cemetery while I was walking. Curiosity had me looking for his headstone. And there he was. Big as life. The second time I went there looking for him one day before work. And I don’t care how silly it sounds talking to him makes me feel better about things. I can’t explain it anymore than that.”
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