Hart's Hollow Farm Read online

  Ruth Ann looked up, a small smile forming. “You have always had a big heart, Mitch. As big as Joe’s, I think.” She tapped a polished nail against the rim of her sunglasses. “Which is why, for your sake and Joe’s,” she stressed, “I’ve agreed with Lee to allow Emmy to rent the twenty acres.”

  He drew his head back, an uncomfortable ache spreading through his chest. “I wasn’t lying when I said this farm is on its last leg, Mrs. Ruth Ann. Giving Emmy that lot of land won’t do anything but prolong her problems. That bypass will be paved no matter what she does.”

  She nodded, a look of resignation crossing her features. “I told Lee that’s how you’d feel about it. But I also told him I didn’t want Emmy going around declaring I was the reason for her downfall.”

  Ruth Ann glanced over his shoulder again, and he followed her line of sight, watching as Kristen, who’d moved out of earshot, began attaching two hooks to the pole.

  “Plus, Emmy’s not the only one working this land now,” Ruth Ann continued. “It wouldn’t be right for me to take away an opportunity for someone else based on how I feel about Emmy.”

  “The two of them alone won’t be able to make a go of it,” he said. “Not with two kids to take care of and a house falling down around their ears. Emmy’s not as spry as she used to be.”

  And she was getting worse by the day. He’d seen her limp more often than not throughout the weekend, her moods were growing more unpredictable, and she’d called Sadie Carrie on more than one occasion since he’d arrived.

  Those things taken individually might not have bothered him too much, but taken as a whole . . .

  “I’m worried about her,” Mitch said, wincing when he realized he’d voiced the thought aloud.

  “As any good grandson should.” A suspicious wetness lined Ruth Ann’s lashes. She put her sunglasses on. “Emmy is lucky to have you.”

  She turned and headed toward her car.

  “My grandpa’s been gone for over thirty years now, Mrs. Ruth Ann,” Mitch said. “And when this farm goes under, Emmy is gonna need a friend. Do you think you could find a way to forgive her?”

  Ruth Ann stopped, then asked quietly, “Can you?”

  He stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you?” She looked over her shoulder, her expression unreadable behind the thick sunglasses. “Emmy and I were as close as sisters for years. We were family by choice if not by blood. When I realized we’d both fallen in love with Joe, I decided not to pursue him and asked her to do the same for the sake of our friendship. Sounds selfish and stupid, and it was. But I was young, Joe was my first love, and Emmy, for all intents and purposes, was my sister. I loved Joe enough to know that I couldn’t be around him and Emmy together and not hurt. And I didn’t want her to go through that if Joe looked my way instead of hers. Our friendship was more important. I told her all of that, but she threw me over instead. Just tossed me away for the love of a man.” A sound of dismay left her lips. “That hurt far more than losing Joe ever did.”

  “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me,” Mitch said gently.

  “The way I see it, Emmy did the same to you, didn’t she? Worse, even.” Her voice softened. “Your father was a troubled man, Mitch. Everyone could see that, even Joe. He loved his son every bit as much as Emmy did, but he was willing to admit David had problems, whereas Emmy wasn’t. Had Joe still been alive, things would’ve been very different for you and Carrie growing up.” She lifted her chin. “Emmy had a choice. David was a troubled man. You were an innocent boy. Who deserved her love more?”

  Mitch thrust his hands into his pockets and swallowed past the thick lump in his throat. “It wasn’t that simple.”

  “No. Neither is forgiveness, no matter what those delightful childhood fables tell us. Which might be why I haven’t heard you say you’re staying to console Emmy when she fails.” She tilted her head. “Or have you changed your mind?”

  When he didn’t answer, Ruth Ann thanked him for seeing her, said her good-byes and left.

  Mitch watched her drive away, her tires stirring up a red cloud of dust, which drifted over the field. The ground was drying rapidly, the sun shone bright, and it wouldn’t be long before the soil would be ready for planting. He looked up the red driveway toward the house, where he imagined Emmy had already begun gathering her things for the afternoon meeting in neighboring Peach Grove, favoring her good knee and urging the kids to get ready. Sadie would be all smiles, but Dylan would probably give her a hard time.

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  Kristen had finished attaching the hooks and had added two small chains. She hung the sign, straightened it, then stepped back and looked it over. A hesitant smile, similar to the one she’d sported the night he’d met her, slowly appeared.

  Before he could rethink it, Mitch pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed a New York number, and waited for Brad to answer.

  CHAPTER 5

  “And that’s where the Andrews used to live.”

  Kristen eased her foot off the pedal and slowed the truck around a curve, glancing toward the single-story house Emmy pointed at from the passenger seat. “As in Heather Andrews?”

  Emmy’s brows rose. “Thought you weren’t from around here. How do you know the Andrews family?”

  “Oh, I don’t.” Kristen’s mouth twitched as she refocused on the sedan traveling in front of them. “I think Mitch might have mentioned the name earlier today.”

  Roughly an hour ago, in fact. Right after he’d told her she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen up close. Then he’d smoothed his rough thumb over her chin in a tender caress that still lingered. A smoldering look of hunger had darkened his blue eyes when he’d studied her mouth, and she could swear she still felt his warm, husky whisper sweeping over her skin.

  As for the kiss, I can’t say how that’d compare without firsthand experience.

  Cheeks scorching, Kristen rolled her lips to stop the mouth twitch from stretching into a full-blown smile. Had it all been just a line? Possibly. But the man sure could deliver one. Either way, she really hadn’t cared right then. Just so long as that slow, delicious tingle in her middle—one that hadn’t emerged in what seemed like forever—hung around a bit longer.

  And there was a good chance it would, seeing as how Mitch had decided to stay. For a little while at least. Though she wasn’t altogether sure that would be a good thing.

  Sunlight glinted off the back bumper of the sedan as Mitch eased it to the left to avoid a pothole. Kristen followed his lead.

  Earlier, after hanging the sign by the driveway, she’d climbed back in Emmy’s truck and waited for Mitch to finish a phone call. He had joined her shortly, then had driven them back to the house, asking along the way if she minded following him into town in Emmy’s truck. He said he had spoken to a colleague and had taken an extended vacation from work, which meant he needed to return the rental car to a local dealership this afternoon. She’d agreed. After they made it inside, Mitch had informed Emmy that he planned to stay for a little while and had asked whether she minded if he attended the county meeting with her.

  To say Emmy had been overjoyed would be an understatement. And she was still on cloud nine as they drove to the dealership.

  “Glory be, it’s a miracle.” Emmy clapped her hands together and chuckled, almost bouncing in her seat. “I still can’t believe Mitch changed his mind and decided to stay. Oh, it’ll be like old times. I’ll have a chance to talk to him again. Really talk. And we’ll have help, Kristen. Lots of it. Mitch has always had the magic touch when it comes to planting. He takes after Joe in that respect. And we can—”

  “He’s only staying through the summer,” Dylan grumbled from the backseat. “It’s not for good.”

  Kristen glanced in the rearview mirror. Dylan, still grieving the loss of his cell phone, scowled out the window at the passing scenery. Sadie, who had yet to make eye contact with Kristen since yesterday’s inc
ident, brushed a pink comb through her doll’s hair silently.

  “Aw, fiddlesticks.” Emmy shrugged. “He’ll change his mind once he gets settled back in. I’ll make him feel right at home again.” She tossed a look over her shoulder at Dylan. “We’ll have family dinners and evening chats on the porch.” She smiled at Kristen. “You’ll see. It’ll be great having Mitch around. Fun. Cozy.”

  Not too cozy. Kristen shifted in her seat, braking at a traffic light. Or cozy at all, for that matter. The very last thing she needed to do was become embroiled in Mitch’s drama with Emmy. She was here to work, not flirt with a handsome, charismatic man who was related to her boss.

  Or . . . hurt a tenderhearted little girl with her selfish emotional outbursts.

  A wave of remorse rolled through her as she glanced at Sadie again. She’d lost at least two hours of sleep last night replaying the unpleasant incident and felt more and more like a heel. It would not, she’d promised herself, happen again. Regardless of the circumstances.

  And what had occurred with Mitch this afternoon was a slip—albeit a big one—but one she didn’t plan on allowing to happen again, either. Not wanting to be rude, she’d agreed to be civil to Mitch, even friendly. But that was it. No more talks of attraction or whispers of comparing kisses, and no more slow, delicious tingles—especially considering he slept in a bed right across the hall from hers.

  Kristen frowned, the thought of his tanned, muscular limbs entangled with hers, his dark blue eyes smoldering down at her with hunger, and his calloused palms sweeping tender caresses over her skin shooting a wave of heat through her middle.

  Oh, gracious. Get ahold of yourself, girl. She blew out a slow breath. It was necessary to keep her distance. But, if she was being honest with herself, it was a downright shame, too.

  “Something wrong?” Emmy peered at her.

  “No.” She tightened her hands around the steering wheel and accelerated when the light turned green. “Just taking in the view.”

  And that wasn’t altogether a lie. The small town of Peach Grove bustled much more than Kristen had anticipated for such a rural area. It was after five, and a steady rush of cars, trucks, and large tractor trailers poured down each side of the narrow two-lane road.

  “Well, allow me to show you the highlights,” Emmy said. “That right there”—she pointed to a cluster of small brick buildings with colorful cloth awnings on the left—“is the hottest shopping strip in town. The makings of a perfect Saturday are to be had there. You start at the Dutch Restaurant and Bakery. People come from miles around for their blueberry and cream cheese sweet rolls. Then you skip next door to Essie’s Odds and Ends and browse the antiques for a hefty flowerpot. Now, I don’t care for babble mouth Bertha’s salon in the middle—she gabs more than she cuts—but a lot of people do. Then you round it off with a stop at Jake’s Hardware, pick out some hot pink petunias, take ’em home, plant ’em, then kick back on the porch and wait for the hummingbirds to come dance around.”

  Kristen grinned. “Do you do that often?”

  “Once every June to break in the summer.” Her smile slipped and she grew quiet before saying, “Only there’s one store missing.” She nodded toward the other side of the road. “Used to be Joe’s older sister ran a one-stop shop over yonder, behind the ice cream parlor. Inherited it from her parents.”

  An abandoned building slumped in the back of an empty parking lot overrun with weeds. The only remaining brick wall still standing had a faded soft drink emblem on it and ragged window frames housing jagged shards of broken glass. Several piles of broken bricks and blocks of concrete stood haphazardly around it, and a young boy—around Dylan’s age maybe?—circled the debris on a skateboard.

  “Cindy Sue had just about anything a body could want in that store,” Emmy said, her voice shaking. “Groceries, toys, a bit of this and that. She sold her crafts there, too. Had wind chimes, pottery, and the most beautiful birdhouses I’ve ever seen. Made ’em out of gourds Joe grew and gave to her.” She turned her head and strained for another glimpse of the ruins through the back windshield. “Cindy Sue was a great neighbor. Gave several families free groceries during tough winters, when they had to choose between food and heat. And she was a good sister-in-law and an even better friend to me. That was decades ago, though. She had a heart attack at thirty-nine. Never saw forty.” Her voice broke, and she sniffed. “Store closed down, and that was that.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kristen whispered.

  Emmy faced the road again and gazed sightlessly at the traffic ahead. A tear seeped out of the corner of her eye and rolled down her wrinkled cheek.

  Chest constricting, Kristen said, “I remember seeing a gourd rack on your farm when I first arrived. By the driveway, I think. Do you use it anymore?”

  Emmy didn’t answer. Just kept staring. A second tear joined the first and settled in the corner of her mouth.

  “Emmy?” Kristen followed Mitch’s sedan into a turning lane and flipped on her left blinker when his started flashing. “I asked if you still use the gourd rack at the farm.”

  No response.

  When the traffic cleared, Mitch turned into a dealership parking lot, and after making sure the road was still clear, Kristen did the same.

  “Emmy, are you oka—”

  A transfer truck barreled around the sharp curve and laid on the horn, forcing her to slam on her brakes.

  Emmy latched on to her arm as the abrupt stop jerked them all forward. “Oh, careful. People drive like their hair’s on fire nowadays, and it’s gotten worse lately.”

  The large semi tore by well above the speed limit, missing them by inches, the whoosh of air in its wake rocking Emmy’s truck. Pulling in a deep breath, Kristen checked that the kids were still safely strapped in the backseat, steadied her shaky hands around the steering wheel, then completed the turn.

  Emmy scrubbed her cheeks and sat up straight. “Did you ask me something earlier?”

  The sad note in her tone was gone, a slight thread of confusion having taken its place.

  “Yes.” Kristen carefully parked beside Mitch, watching as he walked over with powerful strides. “The gourd rack. I asked if you still use it.”

  “Nah.” Emmy unbuckled her seat belt. “I got no idea where Joe’s gourd patch is. That was his place, you know. We both had our own quiet spots to think things over. Besides, it’s probably grown over and useless now. Was nice when he had them, though. Those purple martins loved ’em, and the birds kept the pests down, too.”

  Mitch opened Kristen’s door before she had a chance to, and his eyes raked over her, Emmy, and the kids. “Y’all all right?”

  Emmy waved a hand and shoved her own door open. “Yep. Some lunatic tried to run us over, but we’re fine.”

  Mitch looked Kristen over again, his intense gaze stirring warm flutters that spread throughout her body. “Sure?”

  She nodded and swung her legs out. “We’re good.”

  His big hand engulfed hers, and he assisted her as she slid down. Then he opened the back door and helped Sadie climb out. The gentle grip of his long fingers left behind a strong, comforting sensation, which Kristen savored longer than she should have.

  “I’ll run in, give Jeff the keys, and then we’ll head to the community center,” Mitch said, heading for the front entrance.

  “Wait. We’ll come with you.” Emmy grinned at Dylan. “You got that flyer I asked you to make?”

  Dylan didn’t crack a smile but held up a piece of paper. There was a picture of a huge strawberry in the middle with an advertisement to “pick your own” at Hart’s Hollow Farm.

  Emmy’s smile widened. “Oh, that looks perfect. Lead the way, Mitch. Think you can talk that friend of yours into doing you one more favor?”

  Mitch frowned. “Jeff’s already doing me a plenty big one by getting that car back to Atlanta. What do you need?”

  “Fifty color copies of this flyer run off on that fancy doodad of his.”

  “What for
?”

  “To slap up around town, of course,” Emmy huffed. “Can’t get customers out to the farm if we don’t invite ’em. Kristen, grab one of those buckets of strawberries out of the truck bed and, Dylan, put on your best smile. We’re gonna make an exchange and get some free advertisement while we’re at it.”

  Mitch shook his head, and Dylan looked put out, but everyone did as they were asked. It took only a few minutes for Emmy to sweet-talk Jeff, the dealership’s energetic and cheery owner, into making copies of the flyer in exchange for the strawberries. Shortly thereafter, they left the dealership, drove to the community center, and walked inside.

  “They’ve redone the place,” Mitch said, hovering on the threshold of the conference room and glancing around. “New screen and projector. Tables, chairs.”

  New beige carpet, too. Kristen breathed in a lungful of the fresh fiber smell, the low hum of idle conversation and the cool air filling the wide space making her limbs sluggish.

  “Ah, Mitch,” a deep voice boomed. A tall, robust man, dressed in a suit and standing in a small group by a large mahogany table, walked over, hand outstretched. “Good to see you. I heard you’d dropped in for a visit.”

  “A long visit,” Emmy clarified, giving a satisfied smile as Mitch shook the man’s hand. “He’s staying.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Just for the summer,” Mitch explained. “Took a leave of absence and had a lot of vacation time I decided to use up.” He stepped to the side and ushered Kristen forward. “Charles, I’d like you to meet Kristen Daniels. She’s helping out at Hart’s Hollow.”

  “Nice to meet you, Kristen.” He shook her hand. “I’m Charles Holt. An old friend and former classmate of Mitch’s.”

  Kristen smiled. “Good to meet y—”

  “Mitch!” A brunette with a pretty grin, who appeared to be around Kristen’s age, rushed over and hugged Mitch. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you around here again until at least Christmas. How’s life in New York? Still designing those fancy high-rises?”