Spring in the Valley

by Charlotte Douglas

  “Sorry to rush off,” Gofer said when he joined them, and Rand couldn’t help noting that the man wasn’t at all breathless after his long sprint. The former Marine must have kept up his physical training. “There was a crisis in the dairy, but everything’s under control.”

  “Jared wants to see the baby chicks,” Brynn said.

  “Baby chicks, coming up,” Gofer said.

  Moments later, Rand wished for a video camera to capture and preserve the image of Brynn, sitting crosslegged in the straw of the barn floor with Jared in her lap, while the boy cradled a tiny yellow ball of fluff in his pudgy fingers. Sunlight streaming in the door highlighted the gold in her auburn hair and the midnight blue of her eyes. When she bent over Jared, Rand suppressed the urge to lean forward and run his knuckles down the enticing curve of her cheek. Unlike the women he’d dated in the years since his breakup with Sharon, who’d played their sexual attributes to the hilt, Brynn exhibited no awareness of her charms and centered her total attention on Jared.

  “Don’t squeeze,” she warned the boy. “It’s just an itty-bitty baby. You don’t want to hurt it.”

  Jared’s face filled with awe as the tiny creature moved in his palms. “It’s a pwetty itty-bitty.”

  “Yes, sweetie,” she said, hugging him to her. “It is.”

  At that moment, Rand envied Jared with Brynn’s arms around him and her breath tickling his ear.

  “The teens take care of the livestock,” Gofer was saying. “They feed the chickens, gather eggs, milk the cows and goats, and groom and exercise the horses.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work,” Rand commented but couldn’t take his eyes off Brynn.

  She lifted her head and curved her lips in a smile that created a hot burst of longing in his stomach. “That’s not the half of it. The boys also do all their own cleaning, cooking and laundry, and they plant and maintain the gardens.”

  “Don’t forget their crafts projects,” Gofer added.

  Rand shook his head. “Talk about hard labor. They’re serving a hefty sentence.”

  “You’d think so,” Gofer said, “but the boys love being here.”

  Rand cast Gofer a skeptical glance. “No offense. Archer Farm’s a beautiful spot, but not exactly a teen paradise. No movie theaters, shopping malls or video arcades. And loving all that work…” He shook his head. “I find it hard to believe.”

  “We screen the boys carefully,” Gofer said, “and admit only the ones who are likely to turn their lives around. Once they get here, they find having a purpose and doing a job well are their own rewards, and the positive feedback they receive from the staff fills a void in their lives. We’ve hit some bumps in the road, but we haven’t had to expel a boy yet.”

  “Let’s show him the rest.” Brynn shoved to her feet.

  “Wanna stay with the chickie,” Jared protested.

  “We have to let him go back to his mommy,” Brynn said softly. “He misses her.”

  Rand expected more objections, but Jared merely nodded. “Okeedookie.”

  Gofer led them into a sparkling clean dairy at the side of the barn and introduced Kermit, a black man the size of a small house with a Mr. Universe build, a shaved head and a fierce expression. When he spoke to Jared, however, his dark eyes glowed with kindness and his smile exposed stunning white teeth.

  Kermit was supervising four boys, dressed in olive drab pants, shirts and work boots, with white caps covering their hair. Brynn greeted each of the boys by name, and their responses indicated respect and affection for the woman they called Officer Sawyer. Three teens were pasteurizing milk and making goat cheese. One boy was mopping a puddle of milk from the immaculate tile floor beside an overturned pail, the apparent earlier crisis. All the boys worked with quiet efficiency and cooperation. Only the occasional bizarre tattoo flashing on a forearm or rising from the neck of a T-shirt gave any indication of their checkered pasts.

  “We sell some of the cheese and milk to Jodie’s Café,” Kermit explained. “The rest we use here. Five Marines and sixteen teenage boys need a lot of chow.”

  “We’ll leave you to it,” Gofer said to Kermit and motioned Rand, Brynn and Jared through an exterior door.

  Once the dairy door had closed behind them, Rand said, “Looks like Kermit runs a tight ship.”

  “We all do,” Gofer said. “These boys are hungry for direction and discipline, and they respond well to it.”

  “Tough love?” Rand asked.

  Gofer nodded. “That outburst of profanity you heard earlier will cost Tyrone a hefty fine.” He grinned. “We apply it by the word.”

  “You can’t truly appreciate what the staff has done here,” Brynn said, “if you didn’t see these boys when they arrived. They looked as if they were answering a casting call for a contemporary production of West Side Story. The whole gang—and I don’t use the word lightly—was one big conglomeration of body piercings, do-rags, hip-hop clothes, snarling faces and attitudes the size of eighteen-wheelers.”

  She pointed past the dormitory to open fields where several other boys worked. “That’s why I say Archer Farm has worked miracles.”

  “They just needed someone who cares what happens to them,” Gofer said.

  Lost boys, Rand thought with a long look at Jared. He would do his best to make sure his nephew never joined their ranks. He hoped he could give the boy the love he lacked. Rand’s parents had been reserved, showing little physical affection beyond an occasional pat on the head or peck on the cheek. Consequently, he felt ill-equipped to provide Jared the affection he so desperately needed. Despite the differences between their backgrounds, Rand felt a kinship with these boys who’d had so little parental love in their lives.

  He observed how Brynn held Jared with an ease he envied. As he watched, she buried her face in the boy’s hair and whispered in his ear. Jared smiled and tightened his arms around Brynn’s neck. How did she do it? She’d lost her own mother at an early age, but, apparently, the love of an entire town had given her the support she needed to grow into a happy and caring adult.

  Rand tore his gaze away and looked over the fields beyond the dorm where another tall, muscular man, a bundle of energy in constant motion, was supervising his charges. One teen drove a John Deere tractor that tilled the red clay soil in preparation for planting. Another was on his knees, setting out lettuce seedlings in cold frames and a third weeded a huge bed of spring flowers.

  “That’s Ricochet,” Gofer said and waved to the man at the far end of the field. “He oversees all the planting.”

  They turned back toward the huge log building.

  “This is the dormitory, both for the boys and the staff,” Gofer explained, “except for Jeff, who lives with his wife and stepdaughter in the farmhouse. Brynn helped us build it.”

  Rand cast her a sideways look. “I’m impressed.”

  She wrinkled her face in an impish grin. “I’m a woman of many talents.”

  Rand’s contemplation of what her other talents might be made his pulse pound. He pulled hard on the reins of his galloping imagination and followed Gofer up the stairs and into the dorm. He was struck instantly by the mouthwatering aroma of baking mixed with the acrid bite of turpentine.

  “Our kitchen.” Gofer pointed to the left. “And over here’s our living area, commandeered now as a craft center.”

  In the massive great room, furniture had been pushed against the walls, and tables, made from planks and sawhorses, held a variety of works in progress. One teen, a huge ham-fisted boy, worked supple willow branches into an intricate weave for a basket, while a second teen applied splashes of color to a rustic birdhouse. A stack of finished products included other baskets, decorative wooden plaques and picture frames artistically constructed from twigs.

  “Pwetty,” Jared said and stretched his hand toward the birdhouse.

  “These are beautiful,” Brynn said. “Nice work guys!”

  “Thanks, Officer Sawyer,” one teen said, and both boys grinned wit
h pride at her praise.

  In the kitchen, they met Trace, another former Marine, who was in charge of cooking and baking, but held absolutely no resemblance to Betty Crocker. The teens Rand had seen were big kids, but none was as large or as powerfully built as any of the staff who supervised them. Even with a smear of flour across his cheek, Trace looked like a man you wouldn’t want to meet in a bar fight or a dark alley. Under his watchful eye, two boys removed cookies and muffins from the oven and transferred the goodies to cooling racks.

  “We’ll sell these at our booth at Daffodil Days next week,” Trace said. “They’ll stay fresh in the freezer until then.”

  “And the crafts?” Rand asked.

  “We’ll sell them, too,” Trace explained. “And bouquets of the flowers we’ve grown. We’re a nonprofit organization, so part of the proceeds will go toward the operating costs of the farm and part to the boys themselves. We encourage all our teens to start a savings account for college or vocational school.”

  “Yeah,” one of the boys said with a cocky grin, “and we all need money for the fine jar, sooner or later.”

  “You’ve paid more than your share, Cooper,” Gofer said pointedly. “Better keep that in mind.”

  The boy’s expression was the picture of innocence. “But it goes to a good cause, right?”

  “A Christmas fund for underprivileged children,” Brynn explained to Rand.

  Rand’s conscience stirred. He’d donated plenty of money to charity in the past, but his giving had been a soulless exercise, prompted more by tax advantages than generosity of spirit. After seeing Archer Farm in operation this morning, he felt a strong desire to help with the work Jeff and his staff were doing. As soon as Rand returned to River Walk, he intended to make a substantial donation, anonymously, to Archer Farm. And while he was at it, he’d write a hefty check for the underprivileged children’s Christmas fund, as well.

  Chapter Seven

  Brynn sat across from Rand at the scrubbed wooden table in the Davidsons’ kitchen and found her gaze straying constantly to him. Luckily, Jodie and Jeff were so engrossed in each other, they hadn’t noticed Brynn’s fascination with their guest of honor, and Rand was preoccupied with Jared.

  Jody had served a lunch of homemade chili and cornbread, except to Jared, who’d requested a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The boy, boosted on his chair by a thick cushion borrowed from the living room sofa, licked grape jelly from his fingers. He turned his face, marked with a milk mustache, to focus intently on whoever was speaking, and just looking at him created a warm, fuzzy feeling beneath Brynn’s breastbone.

  She wasn’t surprised by Jared’s effect on her. She’d always loved kids. Having children of her own would be the only reason she’d ever consider giving up police work. When the boy had clasped his chubby arms around her and nuzzled her neck, something soft and tender had broken loose in her heart and slid to her toes. She’d never been particularly interested in marriage, but she’d always wanted a child. But one without the other wasn’t an option in her book, so she’d sublimated her desires, spending time as Officer Friendly with schoolchildren and mentoring the Archer Farm boys.

  What had surprised her was her growing attraction to Rand. She observed him now and realized she could tell a lot about a man from sharing a meal with him. Although he’d just met Jeff and Jodie, he seemed perfectly at ease with their company, praised Jodie’s cooking with sincerity and obviously enjoyed his food. His manners were perfect, but not ostentatious, and he held up his end of the conversation with humor and wit.

  Brynn suppressed a giggle, recalling a fellow officer from Walhalla with whom she’d ridden on a poker run last year. He’d been impressive to the eye with a handsome face, great physique and his monster Harley, but once they’d stopped for supper at Ridge’s Barbecue, she’d been dismayed to discover the man’s peculiar obsession. He’d insisted on chewing every mouthful exactly thirty-two times before swallowing. The poor guy swore such a process was essential for good digestion. Brynn couldn’t imagine enduring another meal with him, much less the thought of spending every morning of her life across the breakfast table from the man.

  Rand, on the other hand…

  The appeal of that image brought her to a sudden halt, spoon suspended in midair.

  “You okay?” Jodie said.

  No, she wasn’t okay. She was losing her mind. Rand was supposed to be only a diversion, not a man Brynn might consider for the long haul. She barely knew him, for Pete’s sake, and what she did know fit with her life about as well as a dress on a cow.

  She flashed Jodie a quick smile and hurried to cover for her distraction. “I just remembered I have to work next weekend, so I won’t be able to help you at the festival.”

  “No problem,” Jodie said with a glance at Jeff that threatened to melt the man’s bones. “Jeff and I have it covered. The boys will help not only at the Archer Farm tables, but at the café, as well. The festival always draws a crowd,” she explained to Rand. “Even with so many other food vendors, the café’s always crowded.”

  “After tasting your chili,” Rand said, “I’m looking forward to sampling the café’s menu.”

  Jodie flushed with pleasure at his compliment, then turned even redder when Jeff added, “I’m lucky to have a wife who’s as great a cook as she is beautiful.”

  “Must be why I’ve never married,” Brynn cracked. “My idea of cooking is Lean Cuisine and salad in a bag.”

  “You have lots of talents.” Jodie threw the words over her shoulder as she cleared the empty chili bowls from the table.

  “Name one,” Brynn challenged.

  “Target shooting,” Jodie replied. “You’re a national champion.”

  “Now that’ll make the men come running,” Brynn said with a laugh.

  “Works for me,” Rand said and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “See,” Jodie exclaimed with a triumphant nod and returned to the table with a tray filled with servings of apple pie and cinnamon ice cream.

  “I don’t know,” Jeff said with a frown as he dug into his dessert. “If I’m ever in the doghouse, I’d rather have a wife with bad aim.”

  Judging from the sexual tension that had sparked between the newlyweds throughout lunch, Brynn doubted Jeff would find himself in the doghouse any time soon.

  “Doggie?” Jared asked and gazed around the room.

  Jeff grinned at the child. “We don’t have a dog, but I wouldn’t mind getting one. Wouldn’t mind having a little guy like you, either.”

  He snagged Jodie around the waist before she sat down and angled a hopeful glance at her.

  Jodie rolled her hazel eyes and slid from his embrace. “Sixteen boys aren’t enough? Not counting the four overgrown ones you call staff.”

  “But none of them call me Daddy,” Jeff said.

  Jodie’s expression softened at those words. “We might be able to negotiate something.”

  With a look hot enough to raise steam, Jeff batted her playfully on her upper arm. “Negotiating’s the best part.”

  “Jeff Davidson, will you behave?” Jodie shook her head in feigned exasperation, but Brynn could tell she loved Jeff’s teasing.

  Brynn cast a look at Rand, who was watching the newlyweds with an amused expression, and wondered what he was thinking. She also found herself wondering why he’d never married and had children of his own. He had to be several years older than her. Brynn figured he was probably as married to his work as she was.

  “Brynn,” Jodie said, breaking her train of thought, “if you see your aunt Marion or uncle Bud before I have a chance to call them, tell them I want to rent the upstairs over the café.” She turned to Rand. “My daughter Brittany and I lived there before Jeff and I were married. It will make someone a nice apartment, or even office space.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to meet Brittany,” Rand said, and hastily reached to grab Jared’s spoon before the child dropped a dollop of melting ice cream onto the floor.


  “She’s working at the café today,” Jodie said with a sigh, “which is probably just as well. At fifteen, she doesn’t have much use for grown-ups. We, as she would say, are so out of it.”

  “I have the teen years to look forward to,” Rand said with a glance at Jared, “if I survive childhood. I’m learning as I go.”

  “All parents do,” Jodie said with a knowing grin, “and when you finally get the hang of it, the kids have grown up and move out.”

  And then they’re gone. The line of a country music hit from a few years back popped into Brynn’s head. But she wasn’t thinking of grown children leaving home. She was contemplating Rand and Jared’s return to New York, and the prospect made her chest ache.

  She stifled a curse. Look what she’d gone and done. Not only was she falling hard for a man who was her polar opposite, his adorable nephew had tangled himself in her heartstrings, as well. And soon both would return to New York. So much for her superficial spring fling. She’d flung herself, all right. Right into a whole heap of heartbreak trouble.

  “You on a diet?” Jodie asked.

  “What?” Brynn shook off her reverie.

  “You haven’t touched your pie.” Jodie pointed to Brynn’s full plate.

  Brynn forced a smile and picked up her fork. “Just savoring the anticipation.”

  She took a mouthful of the sweet concoction, aware every second of Jodie’s scrutiny. Jodie, along with Merrilee, was Brynn’s best friend in the whole world, and Brynn would have to be very careful. She knew from experience, she couldn’t hide anything from either one of them. And if Jodie and Merrilee caught even a whiff of Brynn’s attraction to Rand, Brynn would never hear the end of it.

  AN HOUR LATER, Rand was maneuvering the Jaguar smoothly around the switchbacks down the mountain, Jared was asleep in his carrier and Brynn sat in the passenger seat, every nerve ending humming with awareness of the man beside her. With the radio off and the quietness of the expensive engine, she could hear him breathe, an intimate, comforting sound.

  “Your friends are good people,” Rand said, breaking the silence. “And they’re doing terrific work with those teens. I have to admit, I was skeptical when you suggested this visit, but now I’m really glad I went.”