Page 18 of Pick Yourself Up
Jolie smiled. “Me too, but apparently there’s still a few weeks to go. They won’t be at their peak until then.”
“How are you planning to pick them all?”
Jolie laughed. “No clue yet. We’re still learning. Knox is researching that part of things, but I’m sure we’ll all need to chip in.”
Amber nodded. “Of course.”
Because he was pretty sure the woman would do anything for her family, including protect them from the details of what she’d experienced in Chicago.
Jolie told them a third barn sat on the other side of the property. Ford used the space for his woodworking projects. They couldn’t even see a glimpse of it from where they walked. “This place is huge.”
Amber nodded with a smile.
Jolie grinned. “It is. And it’s all wonderful. I can’t wait for you to see the pond and our ducks.”
Amber’s face lit up. “How are the additions blending in with your original flock?”
“They’re getting along well. It only took a few minutes for them to figure things out. Daisy’s still the leader and the first one in and out of the coop.”
Amber’s smile was soft. “And Quackerjack?”
“Still at the back of the flock. Or wandering around looking for them when she forgets to check behind her.”
A few minutes later, Gray spotted a medium-sized building through the trees. It was larger than the sheds they’d passed, but much smaller than a barn. More the size of a garage but not shaped the same.
When they approached, Jolie waved her hand like she was spinning letters on a game show. “And this is the Worminator. The heart of the farm.”
The building wasn’t completely enclosed. A second floor housed a large metal cylinder, while the space beneath held raised beds, similar to flower beds, but without plants.
It clicked, as did the broken-off conversation at breakfast. “Worminator. I didn’t fully clue in over breakfast. You’ve got your own composting facility?”
Amber raised an eyebrow, eyes sparkling. “First excited about weeds, now about compost?”
He laughed. “I’m a gardener at heart. This is almost the best thing I’ve seen all day.”
It wasn’t the best because Amber held that spot.
But a compost facility that appeared to be fully functional and produced quality compost was high on his list of things to be excited about.
A bark signaled the arrival of another dog, and he turned to see that Boomer was already on alert, eyes trained on the orchard.
Amber’s hand went immediately to Boomer’s head. She played with his fur and murmured to the dog to wait.
Jolie didn’t notice the stress because she was smiling at the forest. “That’s Fox. He’ll be happy to meet you in person, Amber.”
Hemsworth bounded away into the forest, and Amber’s shoulders relaxed.
He decided to try to help her relax. He leaned down to whisper. “I take it Fox isn’t a fox?”
Amber smiled at him, and this time it was genuine. “No, Fox is a Great Pyrenees who lives on the farm. He prefers the outdoors to the inside and was living here when our great-uncle bought the farm. He’s a wonderful dog.”
Sure enough, Hemsworth returned, loping beside a huge white dog who bounded straight up to Jolie. He leaned into her legs while she rubbed him down.
Amber rubbed Boomer’s head. “Boomer. Friend. Free.”
Her quiet commands had the dog settling, and Gray wondered again exactly how well trained this dog was. From everything he’d seen, Boomer had worked with experts. Probably for personal protection.
Amber said she’d had him for about a month, so she’d gotten him after the attack. She obviously didn’t feel safe, and he wondered if the threat from the incident continued.
