Charlotte squinted into the dim interior of the shed. She’d focus on what she could, which was her mother’s visit. The garden was in full swing and the plants were growing beyond her wildest dreams, but she could give them one last boost. It would have time to really soak in by the time they came home on Sunday night.
Spying the yellow five gallon bucket to the left, Charlotte hoisted it off the shelf. It wasn’t labeled. She cracked the lid and the overwhelming smell nearly knocked her off her feet. Mrs. Martin hadn’t been kidding when she said it was powerful stuff. It was unbelievable that such a concoction could come from alpaca poop.
As the sun rose, she distributed it on every plant in the garden, from the towering tomato vines and the rows of green beans to the cucumber and squash. She whispered encouragement to the little honeydew and cantaloupe melons. The kitchen was nearly empty of food since she was planning the best way to show off her garden’s production. In her imagination, her mother would be impressed into silence as she helped harvest, plucking tiny pear tomatoes and snipping purple Thai basil for fresh pesto.
Charlotte smiled as she hummed a little song. Elena had caught her singing to the thyme one day, and instead of laughing, had promptly started to sing her own little songs while she pulled weeds. After that, Elena would ask what they were singing to the plants that day. If she didn’t know better, she might suspect her love for Nico was only because of her love for Elena. But no, it was wrapped up in and diffused with it, but she loved Nico for himself.
Her cell phone trilled and she saw her mother’s name on the screen.
“All packed and ready to go?” Charlotte asked.
“I sure am, sweetie. And I’m bringing you a surprise guest, just like I said I would.” Her mother sounded positively gleeful.
Charlotte grinned. It had to be Sahil. Nobody else would want to spend the weekend with them in Spokane and then a few more days in the middle of nowhere. “I’m so excited to see you guys,” she said.
“Wear something nice, please. I know how you like your comfy clothes.”
Charlotte frowned down at her jeans and T-shirt. For the flight, she’d planned to wear pink linen shift dress that made her feel fresh and pretty. She had a few other cute outfits packed, but maybe she should grab a fancier dress
“See you soon,” her mother said and hung up.
Charlotte put the phone back in her pocket and gazed around the garden. The Lord had crowned the year with bounty, just like the verse said and she couldn’t wait to share it with her mother and Sahil. She reached out to stroke the frilly top of a carrot but she remembered the fertilizer and changed her mind. “I know this stinks, but it’s good for you,” she said. “I promise.”
Chapter 15
“When you do something noble and beautiful and nobody noticed, do not be sad. For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps.”
― John Lennon
Nico paced back and forth on his front porch, his palms slick with sweat. It had been a long time since he’d felt as anxious as he did at that moment. Charlotte had been gone all weekend and arrived back home sometime during the night.
“Papa, are we going over to Charlotte’s now?” Elena’s little voice brought him back to the present. She was already dressed and even managed to put a barrette into her curly hair to keep it out of her eyes.
He’d debated whether to ask his mother to take Elena for the day. He finally decided that she had already seen and understood too much to hide it from her.
“I think we should.” It was better to do it early. If Charlotte already knew, then he could be there for support. If she didn’t know… His heart ached at the thought. She had worked so hard, and for nothing.
Minutes later they’d climbed over the fence and headed for her front door. Just passing the garden made him cringe. Please, Lord, let her find hope in this somehow.
Elena rang her doorbell and for once she wasn’t bouncing on her toes. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. He squeezed back. This was going to be hard.
After a few minutes, the door swung open and Charlotte stood there in purple pajamas. A range of emotions flashed across her face.
“I know it’s early.” He hoped he could explain before she got the wrong idea. His heart was leaping at the sight of her, but he hadn’t come to chat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to tell you―”
“Charlotte? Who is that?” A male voice called sleepily from behind her.
A tall, blond-haired man walked into view. No, not walked. Sauntered. He was barefoot and was scratching his abs, which were bare above low-slung pajama pants.
“This is Jarrod, my… friend.” Red crept up Charlotte’s neck and colored her cheeks.
Stavros had been right. She’d spent a romantic weekend in Spokane with her ex who was now certainly not her ex. A tide of jealousy threatened to pull him under and he fought to bring his focus back to Charlotte. He would marinate in his misery later. He had come to deliver bad news.
“Jarrod, this is Elena, Nico’s little girl.” Charlotte was saying. Jarrod mumbled something and Elena let go of Nico’s hand to launch herself at Charlotte.
“I missed you so much.” Elena sounded a little teary and Nico wasn’t sure if she had really missed her that much, or if it was leftover emotion from what they’d seen yesterday.
Jarrod focused on Nico. He held out a hand, “Nice to meet you, bro. Come on in. Have some breakfast. Charlotte makes the best pancakes. Don’t you, babe?” He slung an arm around her shoulders.
“No, thank you.” Nico was trying hard to keep his voice level. “Charlotte, I need to tell you something. Or maybe you know already.”
Confusion flooded over her face and Nico’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t seen the garden yet.
* * *
Charlotte stood at the garden gate and fought back hot tears. It was as if someone had taken her dream from the other night and twisted it into a nightmare.
“I just don’t understand,” she whispered. “How did this happen?”
“The curling and withering looks like weed killer to me. They’ve started to turn color, too. Did you put anything on the garden before you left?” Nico’s voice was low and quiet.
“Mrs. Martin told me to use a bucket of alpaca fertilizer from her shed. It smelled terrible.” She took a shuddering breath. “The bucket’s over there.”
Nico crossed to it and lifted the lid. “This isn’t alpaca dung. I’ve made some of that fertilizer before. Add water, leave in the heat. Potent smelling but the plants love it.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. These are powerful industrial chemicals of some kind. Left on the plants, in the sun for a whole weekend, and they just didn’t have a chance.”
She felt fresh tears burn in her eyes and Elena took Charlotte’s hand. “You worked really hard and now everything is dead.”
“You worked hard, too, Elena. We both did.” She turned to Nico. “And you put up the fence. Thank you, both of you, for all your help. I just couldn’t pull this off.” She felt failure in every cell of her body.
“On Sunday afternoon, Bunnicula went over the fence and Elena went to bring him back,” Nico said. “She ran to get me as soon as she saw it, but even watering couldn’t stop the process.”
“Thank you for trying,” Charlotte said, forcing a smile. She straightened her shoulders. “I’d better get back in there. I bragged to them that I was going to cook a big dinner with delicious, home grown food and now I’ve got to figure something else out.”
She glanced back at the house and as if in response to her gaze, her mother and Jarrod emerged onto the porch.
“Charlotte, honey, what’s going on?”
It was terrible timing but she found herself asking, “Can I introduce you to my mom?”
“Of course.” He ran a hand over his flannel shirt.
Charlotte almost smiled at the nervous gesture as she led them up to the porch. “Mom, this is Nico Delis
and his daughter, Elena. They live next door. They’ve been good friends to me. This is my mother, Angela McGregor.”
Her mother nodded politely and took another sip of coffee. “Well, we’ve got a full day planned. I know Jarrod is really excited to see everything you’ve been telling him about.” She smiled a little too widely. “I hate to cut short your visit, but we’ve got to get ready. Right, Charlotte?”
Charlotte glanced at Nico. She wished she knew what he was thinking. If only she could say right there, out loud, that she’d never invited Jarrod, hated spending the weekend listening to him brag about his social life, and wished with all her might he’d never come. But that would be rude, even if it was all correct. She’d seen the distance in Nico’s eyes. As kind as he was, Nico wasn’t going to let himself care for a girl who lied. And to him, it must look like Charlotte was a liar. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Of course,” he said. Seconds later he and Elena were headed across the lawn, back over the fence.
“Awkward,” her mother said, exasperation in her voice. “There’s no privacy here, is there?”
“Now I know why that kid is always over. They’ve roped you into being a part-time babysitter.” Jarrod let out a loud yawn.
Fury shot through her so fast it took her breath away. “It’s not like that at all. He’s very private. He’d never overstep our friendship.”
“And that’s why he’s climbing over your fence.” Her mother said, as if explaining to a very young child. “Charlotte, you need to set better boundaries.”
Charlotte felt her mouth drop open. If Nico had gone out his front door, walked down his long driveway, and finally down the dirt road to her front door, it would have been close to half a mile. It was simply common sense to cross the shared fence.
Her mother was lecturing her on boundaries, while bringing Jarrod as a surprise guest, the man she’d dumped months ago. “I’ve got to get a shower,” she mumbled and headed for the house.
Minutes later, as she stepped into the steaming hot spray, she finally let herself weep for everything she’d lost. She had failed. Publicly and spectacularly failed. In one day, she’d ruined her garden, dashed her hopes of earning her mother’s approval, and watched any future with Nico go up in smoke. Her mother was right. She never should have come to Arcadia Valley.
* * *
“Charlotte, there’s someone at the door,” her mother called from the living room.
Sighing, Charlotte put down the dark green dress she’d been holding up to herself. She still had no idea where to take her mother and Jarrod for dinner. She couldn’t imagine they would enjoy any of the fare at the local diner.
The knock sounded again and Charlotte called, “I’m coming.”
Charlotte suppressed the urge to tiptoe past Jarrod’s room. After her shower, he’d made another remark about Elena being dumped in Charlotte’s lap. She’d had enough and told him he didn’t know anything about the situation. He’d been sulking ever since.
She swung the door open and thought for a moment that she’d forgotten Elise was invited. The older woman held two large paper bags and was smiling broadly.
“Just brought you some produce from my garden. It’s not much. A bit of our early corn, some cucumbers, tomatoes, and miniature plums.”
Charlotte took the bags. “Thank you,” she said and it came out like a question.
Elise peeked around the living room and, after seeing they were alone, whispered, “I heard your garden had a little too much fertilizer.” She patted Charlotte on the shoulder. “Happens to the best of us.”
A moment later she was gone. Charlotte felt hope rise for the first time all day. She could do this. With the ready-made polenta she had in the fridge and some ratatouille, it could still be fancy and fresh. Maybe mix up a quick cake for dessert.
She was almost to the kitchen when there was another knock. Charlotte frowned, put down the bags, and went to open the door. Ron Allen stood there. “My wife planted too many runner beans this year. I thought maybe you’d like a few. We already washed and snapped ‘em.” He held out the bag. “Also a pint of raspberries and a little basket strawberries in there. We just can’t eat all of this. Sure like growing it, though.”
Charlotte hardly had time to receive the gift before he was headed back out the door. “I don’t know what to―” she started to say.
“No need to thank me,” he called with a smile.
As she was closing the door, she spotted a big white truck waiting for Ron to exit. Joey Frappano got out and lifted a box from the back of his truck. Charlotte watched him walk up the steps, surprise and confusion running through her.
“Hey, there. I brought a few things for you.” He glanced at the bag in her hands. “Would you like me to carry it inside?”
Charlotte stepped to the side, still searching for words. As the door swung closed, Charlotte’s imagination raced in different directions. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Elise already mentioned her garden.
Someone had been gossiping.
Setting the box on the counter, he lifted the brim of his hat a few inches. “Mr. Bodkin asked me to bring over some steaks and corn. He says thanks for that time you called him when his cows were out and wandering across the road.”
“I’d never been in a cow traffic jam before,” Charlotte said, not knowing what else to say.
He glanced down at the box. “A few things from us in here, too. I didn’t know what you’d like so I just put in some onions, peppers, tomatoes.” He glanced up and saw the question in her eyes. “A few years ago a drought killed most of our crops. It was a miserable year. My dad was depressed for most of the winter. I hope you know that you’re always welcome to anything we grow.”
Charlotte felt tears prick at her eyes. He was treating her like she was a real farmer who’d lost her crops. “I appreciate that.”
“We all appreciate you, too,” he said quietly. “I know the library didn’t have a lot of money but you bought that Zane Grey series when I said I really liked the two we had.”
“What is all the knocking? It’s like Grand Central Station.” Her mother stood in the hallway, a hand on her hip.
“Just some—” Charlotte said. She was going to say neighbors but Joey didn’t live anywhere near her. “Friends.”
Joey flashed Charlotte a smile. “I’ve got to go. I can let myself out.”
Soon after the door closed, her mother turned to her and asked, “Did you say something rude to Jarrod? He’s refusing to come out.”
Charlotte sighed. Jarrod was still her guest. “I’ll go talk to him in a bit.”
Another knock made Charlotte almost jump out of her skin.
“Where are all these people coming from?” her mother asked, following her to the door.
“They’re just friends,” Charlotte said on the way to the living room. She didn’t know how else to explain. Her mother would never understand why these people were at her door because she couldn’t understand how important the garden had been to Charlotte.
A young woman with blond hair waited on the step, holding a stack of containers and smiling shyly. “Hi,” she said softly. “I’m Jamie. We own the blueberry farm on the other side of town. A friend told me you had out of town guests and I thought you might like some berries.”
Charlotte took the clear bowl of plump, dusky blueberries. A friend told her. “These look delicious.”
“Also, some blueberry preserves. Great on biscuits. And this is a bottle of blueberry syrup for tomorrow’s pancakes.” Jamie passed them over and then hesitated. “My six year old niece started reading this year because of you. She likes ponies, so you found all the picture books with ponies in the whole library for her. We read them so many times, something finally clicked. Thank you.” She reached out and hugged Charlotte gently She was halfway down the steps before she turned back to say, “And don’t worry. I bet you have a great big garden next year.”
Charlotte stood at the door for a mom
ent, emotions warring with reality. Was it really possible that Nico was the friend Joey mentioned, and that all of these presents were due to him? She wanted to believe it was possible, but the memory of his face when he saw Jarrod flashed through her mind. He was giving her blessings instead of curses.
Her mother was arranging the produce in the kitchen. “Such nice people,” she said.
Another knock at the door didn’t even startle Charlotte. She crossed the living room, a smile pulling at her lips. Lord, You are so faithful.
A tall man in a cowboy hat jerked his head toward the driveway. “Looks like there’s a line.”
Charlotte looked past him to see a pretty brunette carrying a basket, and behind her, Demtria and Elena. She started to laugh. “Better hurry. I haven’t got all day.”
He grinned, his bright blue eyes shining with humor, and held out a small box. “I’m Silas Black. I just moved back here from Montana. I think you’ve met my mom a few times. We’re the farm with all the goats, donkeys and alpacas.”
Charlotte felt her eyes go wide as she contemplated the box.
“No, no meat from the farm, although goat meat makes a really great birria if you cook it long and slow… Anyway,” he said, getting back on track, “she asked me to bring you some of her special warm ginger carrot salad and an herbed goat cheese my sister Romy made this afternoon.” He looked into the box. “Oh, I made you some fresh tomato salsa and watermelon gazpacho.”
“Wow,” she said, feeling the inadequacy of her words. Watermelon gazpacho?
“She heard you had guests and something went wrong with dinner―”
“Heard? How?”
The sound of Demtria’s voice made Silas glance back. “I’d better go. You’ve got more deliveries.”
Charlotte took the box. “Thank you. Really.”
“No problem. It’s great to finally meet the new librarian. I practically grew up in that library, so thanks for taking such good care of it.”
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