Page 6 of Love Harvested on Thanksgiving
Within seconds my car is free, sitting solidly on firmer ground. My shoulders sag with relief.
CHAPTER FOUR
FINLEY
The drive back to the farm is quick, she nearly made it. I park near the house, kill the engine, and step down, the gravel crunching under my boots.
Over my shoulder I see the small white SUV pull in behind me. The redhead climbs out, her hair catching in the sunlight like spools of copper. She looks so out of place with her perfectly put-together outfit. And thigh-high boots.
She is infuriatingly attractive.
I motion toward the picnic bench under the oak tree out front. When she reaches me, I extend my hand. Her palm is small and too soft against my rough calloused one.
“Alex Rhodes” she says with a quick smile.
“Finley Knox,” I reply before dropping into a seat on the bench. She sits across from me, smoothing the skirt that hugs her thighs a little too tightly. Her eyes dart around taking in the farm.
“This place is much bigger than I expected.” She says in awe.
“Yeah,” I say shortly. “We supply all of Oakridge, and some surrounding towns.”
I watch her for a moment, her big brown eyes taking in the surroundings. The sweet, floral scent of her perfume drifts over me, soft and delicate. I have to shift in my seat.Focus, Finley.
She tilts her head, curiosity in her eyes. “How long have you… managed the farm?”
I keep my answer short. Too much talking is unnecessary and time consuming. “Three years.”
She nods and doesn’t press further. Good. I want this over as quickly as possible. The day is long, and I have more than enough work waiting for me.
She pulls out a small note pad and pen. “Oak & Rye is launching something new next year.” She says voice bright with excitement. “We’re launching our own brand of healthy ready-to-bake meals. I’d love your opinion on what produce I should consider—what has a nice shelf life once it’s prepped?”
I glance up at her, noting the enthusiasm in her eyes. “Root vegetables,” I say flatly, still keeping my eyes on the barn beyond the picnic bench. “Carrots, sweet potatoes, beets, parsnips. Squash. Cabbage and onion also have a good shelf life.”
She nods eagerly, scribbling notes. “Okay, great, thanks.”
I nod once, already thinking about how I need to wrap this up so I can get back to the fields. Then she speaks again.
“Can you show me around? I’ve never been on a farm before. I’d love to see where my product originates.”
I let out a slow sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. The last thing I need is to babysit this girl playing businesswoman.
“Sure,” I say flatly, pushing up from the bench. “But this needs to be quick, I have work to do.”
Her whole face lights up, and she practically bounces to her feet. “Perfect!” She says, her grin wide.
I shove my hands into my pockets and start walking toward the first barn, her quick footsteps trailing behind me.
ALEX
The first place Finley takes me is a long, weathered barn with faded red siding. The moment we step inside, the smell of feathers and feed attack my senses.
Gobbles echo around me, I stop in my tracks as hundreds of turkeys waddle around in pens.
A man in coveralls moves down the row, crouching here and there, lifting wings, inspecting feet.
“What’s he doing?” I ask, leaning closer to Finley so he can hear over the sounds of wings flapping and gobbles.
“Checking them for health status,” he says, his tone brisk. “Making sure none of them are injured or underfed.”
