Page 49 of Harvest Moon

And sure, Claudia pouted about it, but she agreed to it. She didn’t have to like it. She was a grownup, and knew that a little annoyance now was worth it, to still be alive in a few months.

I solidified that in my mind. Whatever it took, whatever I had to do, whatever bizarre macrobiotic wheat-germ and rice-bran-only diet Skye recommended, I’d follow it to the letter. And in a few months, I would have my cousin, her husband, and a ridiculously adorable little niece or nephew.

When I met Birch’s eye, though, the fear was still stark there. He could lose the love of his life to the Condition and their mutual dream of having kids.

I shook it off, squaring my jaw and nodding to him.

We could handle this.

28

Ridge

All the hope I’d felt when I’d left those messages for Alexis was slowly leaking out of me, like I was an old boat with warped wood, taking on water in a trickle.

The only way around feeling sorry for myself was to throw all my energy into work. No problem there—there was plenty to do. The last of the cantaloupes needed to be harvested, and there were more beans to shell than four sets of hands could manage, no matter how fast Barbara worked while seated at that old kitchen table.

Too soon, we were running out of jars for our stock. There was a farmer’s market coming up that weekend that Barbara and Henrik were going to—they’d gotten out of the habit of asking Ford to join them, given that he didn’t much like people. It gave them a chance to get out and see folks, but they’d started talking about me coming along some Saturday mornings—an extra set of hands since theirs were getting pretty tired.

If we were going to move all these beans, another case or two of jars would go a long way in getting product ready. Over lunch on Thursday afternoon, I offered to go out to town and pick up some more at the grocery.

Of course, any trip into town meant I had a whole list of errands from Barbara to run—things the farm needed from the hardware store, extra feed for the animals, a new blanket because one of the ones for the horses was threadbare.

Before I even got to Ambrosia Grocery, my truck was practically full. I had to push stuff aside that’d moved around in the bed before I went into the store.

As usual, Isaac was there behind the counter. He smiled at me and lifted his hand—a simple hello, but I wandered over to him anyway.

“I talked to Mr. and Mrs. Hill about the flowers.”

He perked up right away, leaning across the counter with his hands braced beside the rubber part of the lane that moved groceries down to the bagging area.

“Did you? What did they think?”

“We’re going to give it a shot. I just wanted to say thanks for the suggestion. I think it’s going to work out real well, and we’re even going to try and keep a couple bee hives around the farm. Don’t suppose you’d be interested in some local honey?”

Isaac nodded. “You get everything sorted with the Department of Ag, and I’d be delighted to stock Hill honey in my store.”

“Great. It’ll be a few months to get everything started, but I’m glad to hear you’re interested. I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop about how things are going.”

“I appreciate it. Ridge, it really sounds like you’re doing a lot down at the farm. I’m glad the Hills have you around—Ford’s a good man, does his part, but, well, you know him now. You can tell he’s a little weighed down by everything that’s happened. It’s good to get some new life into the place. I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes for you all.”

I ducked my head and rubbed the back of my neck. That sure was a nice thing to say, but I wasn’t doing anything special. I did want to think I was helping out at the farm, though.

“Thanks, Mr. Tartt. Being here—it’s a lot more than I imagined when I left home. But I didn’t just come by to shoot the breeze. We’re canning, and need a heck of a lot of mason jars, if you’ve got them.”

“Sure do.” He led me to the back of the store, where the wall was lined with cleaning supplies, brooms and paper towels and some basics you might need for cooking if you didn’t want to go to a bigger store. From the bottom shelf, I heaved up a couple flats of jars.

“Need anything else?” he asked me, shuffling back to the front.

I pulled Barbara’s list out of the back pocket of my Levi’s. “Actually, yeah. There are a couple more things on here. You mind if I leave these jars with you for a minute?”

“Not at all.”

It was a slow afternoon, and no one else was in the store. Still, I didn’t want to take too long and clutter Mr. Tartt’s counter space, so I grabbed what I needed quick as I could, paid, and headed out with another promise to Isaac that I’d keep him in the know about any new developments at the farm.

Since I’d rushed into town before eating anything, and the Hills and Ford were probably finished with lunch, I figured I’d grab something from Chadwick’s Grille and take a bag to go.

Once I got the truck loaded, I walked down the sidewalk toward the little diner, but I didn’t get that far before a familiar scent on the breeze curled past my nose and lifted my head.

---