She straightened her back, pasted on a smile, and consulted her clipboard. Ellie, at the front desk, had barely glanced up from her solitaire game to inform Jo that the resident of Room 224 lived in the present, at least some days. She tapped the door and nudged it open. “Hello, Mrs. Humbert?”
An old woman, white hair floating around her face halo-like, sat in her wheelchair by a small table. A man swiveled at the intrusion from his seat facing the window.
Jo caught her breath. Zach?
“Please come in, my dear.” The old lady peered at her through rheumy eyes. “Do I know you?”
Jo closed the space. She could block Zach from her thoughts. This was her job. She took the soft white hand in hers. “I’m Josephine Shaw, the facility’s new nutritionist, and I’m here to talk to you about food.”
Zach chuckled. “Be careful, Grandma. She’ll toss your stash of candies in the garbage.”
Thanks a lot, buster. Jo shot a glare at Zach. Just her luck he felt the need to interfere on his grandmother’s behalf.
Jo turned her back on him and tried for a light tone. “Unless you have any free-trade organic dark chocolate in there. That stuff is hard for me to resist.”
Mrs. Humbert’s poufy hair shimmered as she shook her head. “Now that’s something I don’t have, but John can pick some up for us if you like.” She patted Jo’s hand. “Then I can bribe you to be nice to me.”
John? Jo shot a questioning look at Zach, but he just lifted a shoulder and shook his head. She squeezed the old lady’s hand. “I don’t need bribing.” Not with anyone who needed help, and the fact this was Zach’s grandmother clinched the deal. “It’s my job to make sure you’re getting the best possible nutrition, though, so let’s keep those empty calorie snacks at a minimum, shall we?”
Zach laughed.
If it hadn’t been directed at her, Jo might have enjoyed the deep, full sound. But no. It was at her expense. She gritted her teeth and swiveled to face him. “May I ask what’s so funny?”
He waved a hand. “Really, does it matter? Why make big changes? Let these folks enjoy the remainder of their days and eat what they like. It’s not like a diet modification is going to make that much of a difference.”
She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my job. I’ve been hired to improve the menu.”
Zach leaned back in the chair and ran his gaze down and up her. Not, sadly, in a romantic way. More like an intimidation attempt.
Well, she wouldn’t stand for it. Jo parked her hands on her hips and the clipboard clattered to the floor.
He grinned and snatched it before she could react.
Why did she always seem to forget what she had in her hands when he was nearby? Heat crept up her neck and across her cheeks as she retrieved her board from his grasp. She stared at it, trying to remember what questions she’d meant to ask Mrs. Humbert, but Zach’s face seemed to swim upon the paper.
He leaned forward and cupped his hand over his grandmother’s. “Maybe I should introduce you. Grandma, Miss Shaw is one of the people who bought your farm from Mom and Dad.”
Oh! This was that grandmother? Of course. Jo should have realized.
The old woman shook her head, a slight frown marring her face.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Humbert.” No need to perplex the woman. Jo patted her shoulder. “Just call me Jo. I’ll come back and talk to you later, when you don’t have company.” And when Zach couldn’t interrupt with his own ideas of how Jo should do her job.
Or just plain distract her.
“That will be nice, my dear. I’d love to visit.”
Jo turned for the door but froze at Zach’s chuckle. “Let me know if you’re being deprived of treats, Grandma. I’ll sneak you some.”
She was going to have to keep an eye on him. Too bad that would be a pleasure.
**
“Have you met the girls next door yet?” Mom pushed up the sleeves of her blue sweater as she glanced out the kitchen window toward Grandma’s old trailer. She turned on the faucet and waited as water streamed into the kettle.
Met them? Talk about an understatement. “Two of them.” He assumed the third resident had arrived by now, but he was in no hurry to meet her, thank you. Zach stretched his legs under the retro chrome table, thankful his mother was home from nearly a week at Dad’s bedside. Worry pressed her slight shoulders down, and her graying hair looked overdue for a trim.
Mom turned to face him. “How about Sierra? She’s the one who came to sign the papers a couple of months ago. She’s a pretty girl.”
Cute and curvy. “Yep. She’s got a good scream to her.”
“Scream? Why would that be?”
He couldn’t resist. “Perhaps because the place was full of mice?”
“I’m so sorry about that.” Red tinged her cheeks. “But there’s a chance for you to be a knight in shining armor to a group of young ladies. You can take them some traps—”
“Done.”
“— and remove the carcasses for them. There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t appreciate that kind of help.”
She obviously hadn’t met Josephine Shaw, though Jo hadn’t turned him down precisely. “Didn’t you know how bad the trailer was?”
“Zachary John. I’ve had nothing but your father’s health on my mind for the past ten days. Thank God they figured out what was wrong with him and got him on that medicine in time, but he’s been very sick. It’ll be a long haul to recovery.” She shook her head. “I do feel bad I let cleaning the trailer slip, though. Maybe I’ll take a casserole over in apology.”
“Just make sure it’s healthy, or they’ll send it right back with you.” Second thought, that would be okay. Then he could enjoy it himself.
A frown marred Mom’s forehead. “Right. They’re on a health food kick over there. Sierra checked the zoning about opening an event destination for sustainable living before making an offer.”
“Sustainable living? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mom parked the kettle on the range and turned it on. “I guess they’re environmentalists of some sort. One thing is they’re planning to grow their own food.”
Another good reason to stay clear, as if he needed more. “You might want to watch out, though. Josephine Shaw is the new nutritionist at Galena Hills. I met her there when I was visiting Grandma yesterday. Sounds like she plans to shake up the menu.” Probably everything else, too, by the glint in her eye.
Mom’s face brightened. “That can only be good. The food there is abysmal. It’s bland and tastes like so much straw.”
Zach parked his elbows on the table. “She’s checking out all the residents’ snack drawers. I don’t trust her. When I helped them clean the trailer she spouted at me about eating chips and drinking pop and —”
Mom laughed. “No more than I’ve said to you for years, Zachary John. I told you they’d rot your teeth out one day.”
“Yeah, well. According to her, the whole earth will collapse on account of my food choices.” And she’d looked so earnest saying so.
“The whole earth? I suppose I can’t expect her to care about your teeth.” Mom sat at the table across from Zach. “So, tell me. Is she as pretty as Sierra?”
Zach stifled a groan. When would she let up trying to find him a wife? “Not looking for anyone right now, remember? Not here, not anywhere.”
“But you’re twenty-seven. We had two children when your father was your age.”
Yeah, he’d heard the story a dozen times. But look where that had landed his folks. Four offspring and always too broke to go on vacation or fix up the house. The kitchen still sported old painted cabinets and metal-rimmed countertops with no space for a dishwasher.
“You’re not getting any younger. Now that you’ve got your veterinary degree . . .”
Zach sucked in a deep breath. How many times had they had this discussion? “I need a job first.”
“I’m sorry, Zachary. I just want to see you settled. Happy.” The kettle whistl
ed, and Mom rose to fix the tea.
Time for a subject change. “What did the doctor have to say about Dad’s condition? Give me the details.”
Mom’s shoulders slumped. She set two ceramic mugs on the table and sank back into her chair, burying her face in her hands. “He’s weak as a baby. He can’t even stand up without support.”
“I’m sorry.” Zach reached over and gently pulled her hands away from her face. He rubbed his thumbs along her palms. “I’m sure they’re doing all they can for him. What happens next?”
She tugged loose and reached for a tissue. “Physical therapy. Weeks. Maybe even longer.”
Weeks he could handle, probably. More than that? “I see. Long-term prognosis?”
“Most . . . Victims . . . resume normal life within a year.”
Victims. Ouch. “A year? That’s a long time. How will you manage the farm with Dad out of commission?” So much for changing the subject.
Mom blew her nose. “I haven’t talked to him about it. He’s too busy trying to keep his head up as it is. But I thank God you were able to come home at all. Maybe you’ll stay and help out as long as it’s needed?”
As he suspected. Obviously it was time to clear the air. “Right now I can’t promise a year. I can give you a few weeks, maybe more, depending on the job situation. Remember, I have quite a few résumés out. Someone is sure to call soon.” If they could balance his receipt of the president’s award with the fact that he didn’t have a recommendation from his last employer. That smarted.
“I’m trusting God you’ll do what’s right.”
Zach clenched his fingers against his knee to stop the jittering. “I’m supposed to put my future on hold?”
She bit her quivering lip. “I wasn’t thinking of it as on hold. More that God could provide what you need right here in Galena Landing.”
His mother knew this wasn’t what he wanted. How could she pray against her own son? Zach didn’t have much of an in with God these days. Of course, it was entirely possible He wouldn’t answer her prayer anyway. Didn’t He have bigger things to worry about than this little farm so far north in Idaho they nearly bumped the Canadian border?
Zach pushed his mug of tea aside. “How about praying for one of my sisters to move back here?”
Mom twisted the tissue into knots. “You loved the farm so much when you were a boy. And your sisters are already seeking God in everything they do.” She sighed. “I wouldn’t say no to Cindy and Tom bringing the grandkids closer. You know I miss being a part of their life. But God called them to a vital ministry in Denver.”
“And I’m not doing anything important because I’m not a youth pastor? Or teaching ESL in Thailand?”
“Oh, Zachary. That’s not what I meant at all.” She dabbed her face with the tissue. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
What other meaning could there be?
“I’m sorry, son. How about I just pray for you and ask God to do what He wants with your life? I’ll try not to plant ideas of my own, though He certainly knows my mother heart.”
Zach pushed his chair back. “Fair enough. I can’t say I’d mind having God on my side.” Once that had been his normal life.
“Then you’ll come to church with me in the morning?”
She had him cornered.
Chapter 3
“Really? This town has no farmers’ market?” Jo leaned against the counter of Nature’s Pantry in downtown Galena Landing. “Why?”
The owner, Gabe Rubachuk, shrugged. “Someone tried starting one a few years ago, but it didn’t last. Nobody quite knew what to do with it.”
“What do you mean, do with it? People sell their garden excess to people who don’t have any, or they purposefully plant in order to sell.” Didn’t seem that hard to her. When she’d met Gabe and his wife Bethany at church the day before, she’d assumed they’d make great allies. After all, they were about her age and owned a health food store. Somehow, though, Gabe didn’t seem to have caught Jo’s vision.
“Yeah, well. There was some of that going on, but not much. The sellers didn’t come regularly, and then the few people who were counting on fresh vegetables couldn’t get any.” Gabe bit his lip and stared at the far corner of the store before looking back at Jo through his intense brown eyes. “It should have worked, but it didn’t. The final straw was when the town council took notice and figured the vendors should have a business license.”
She could feel her eyes bugging out. “Every single one of them?”
“Yeah. Rules, you know.” He tugged at the cuffs of his university sweatshirt.
“But that’s ridiculous. If they’re members of the farmers’ market association, then one set of annual dues covers all that.”
He frowned. “What association?”
Jo waved her hands, taking in the whole musty herb-smelling store, the whole town, maybe the whole world. “Did they ask anyone from somewhere else how to set things up? A place with a thriving market?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled back. “Look, Josephine, it was while I was away at college. I’m not up on the details.”
There she went again, pushing people until they got defensive. She had to learn to stop that. “Any other ideas of how I can source fresh local food? Not only for my roommates and I, but also for Galena Hills Care Facility. I’m working there part-time. I don’t want those poor old people to keep having to eat produce with all the nutrition drained out of it from so long on a truck.”
Gabe scowled. “I carry a line of organic canned vegetables.”
Did she dare tell him that barely touched her hopes? “I’ll keep it in mind, but they probably don’t come in number ten-sized cans. How about bulk frozen?” That would be a bit closer to the real thing.
“I’ll ask my mother-in-law about volume orders. She used to own this store.”
Jo nodded. “That’d be great as a stop-gap, but we’d really like to hook into whatever is going on with food from the area.” She leaned forward. “My roommates and I were thinking of organizing a little festival later in summer, seeing what our neighbors and friends could bring that they’d grown themselves.” Assuming they’d made any friends by then. “We won’t have a lot ourselves, other than from the garden we’ll put in and fruit already growing on the farm. Looks like lots of raspberries, at least. Do you and your wife plant a garden?”
A small grin played about his lips. “No, we live in the apartment above the store so we don’t have any land. And besides, Bethany is pregnant.”
“All the more reason to have good fresh food.”
He shook his head, the grin mostly intact. “You don’t give up, do you?”
Jo’s grandfather used to call her a little Chihuahua. Yap and grit in a pint-sized package. She tried a deprecating smile. “Not often, no. Sorry if I come on too strong. I’m just really passionate about knowing where my food comes from, the closer to home the better.”
Gabe waved a hand around the store with its wooden shelving and a few metal racks. “Not much here that’s local. I buy from the same suppliers every other health food store does in the Pacific Northwest.”
“That could change. Have you ever thought of putting a produce cooler in here? You could sell vegetables and fruit. Meat, even.”
“Super One Foods has everything most people want.” Gabe shook his head, grimacing. “I’ve got some loyal customers, but most don’t want to pay extra for organics. I do best on the vitamins and supplements. Or I used to.”
“See, that’s the thing. Just because something is organic doesn’t make it better.”
By the look on his face, she’d lost him. She tried again. “Most of the organic companies are mega-businesses, like regular grocery store brands. They may not use the same types of chemicals, but they’re still raping the land. It’s called agribusiness.”
“It’s called free market.” Gabe placed both hands on the counter and leaned toward her. “I can buy some of these organic brands, like the pasta, cheaper n
ow than a few years ago. It’s all about price, and I’m just a little guy. It’s hard to compete with the big grocery chains.”
That wasn’t the point. “You sound about ready to give up.”
Gabe glanced toward the door and lowered his voice. “Look, we bought this business from Bethany’s mother three years ago. Since then, Super One has put in an entire aisle of organic food and expanded their vitamin selection. I honestly don’t know how long I can keep this place running.”
Jo vowed to buy as much from Nature’s Pantry as she could, even if it meant canned vegetables. “So what are you doing? Just letting it slide? Or are you fighting back?”
He closed his eyes for a second and rubbed his hands across his face. “I don’t know. If I could bail without losing my shirt, I probably would. But Galena Landing means everything to us. This is where we want to raise our kids.”
“Does Bethany work in here with you?”
“We can’t afford that.” Gabe’s eyes softened. “She’s a nurse. Commutes to the hospital in Wynnton. It’s nearly an hour’s drive each way, and the twelve-hour shifts are killing her. She can hardly wait for maternity leave, but it’s still a long way off.”
Jo used to dream of marriage and babies herself. She and her friends had all but given up. They’d stopped looking when the Mr. Rights didn’t materialize during college. Instead, they’d chosen to pour their energy into creating the kind of world they wanted to live in. Didn’t mean Sierra didn’t turn the head of every guy who saw her. Didn’t mean Jo didn’t crave the kind of love Gabe obviously had for his wife and unborn child.
“That’s a brutal commute.” It probably wouldn’t be polite to ask about the efficiency rating on Bethany’s car. Claire would kick her shin if she’d been there and Jo asked a question like that. Jo forced herself to focus. “So you’re saying you’re going to fight.”
A Farm Fresh Romance Series 1-3 (A Farm Fresh Romance Box Set) Page 2
