Krista refilled Jake’s coffee cup and he gave her free hand an affectionate pat. “After your shift, I’d like to take you for a ride.”
“Oh?”
“To the farm,” he said. “I’ll give you a lift home to change and tell your cousins where we’re going, make sure they don’t need you for anything, then we’ll go. It’s not far.”
“Did you ask your sister and brother-in-law if they mind?” she asked nervously.
“My sister is at work until dinnertime and my brother-in-law will be working around the farm. They won’t mind.” Unconsciously, she backed away. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “They’re very nice people. Very welcoming.”
Of course there was no way Charley and Meg would ask her to miss a trip to the farm, not because it would be such a great new experience for her but because Jake was taking her. They were almost giddy with excitement.
It was a beautiful August day, the sun bright with just a few scattered clouds and enough of a breeze to keep her clothes from sticking to her. It was less than a thirty-minute drive to an old farmhouse surrounded by barns, outbuildings and what seemed like miles and miles of green fields. The corn was high, the wheat was thick and there were other growing things she couldn’t identify. “Soybeans and sugar beets,” Jake said.
Also, there were several trucks.
“How much of this does your brother-in-law farm?” she asked.
“Everything you can see. That house to the north—that’s the Jaspers and they don’t farm anymore. Richard leases their fields. That house to the west, that’s Nicholls and they only have a small plot, mostly for their own personal use. There are a few other neighbors here and there but this is the biggest farm in the area.”
“All the trucks?” she asked.
“Richard has hands. Day workers. Seasonal. He only keeps two year-round and usually has another four from planting to harvest.”
“Look how vast,” she said in an almost reverent breath. “What must it have been like to grow up here?”
He laughed and said, “I thought I was cursed. Lotta chores on a farm.”
He parked and met a bunch of barking dogs in the yard. At first Krista stiffened nervously and counted—four. One blond, one black and white, one solid black and one chocolate brown. Jake good-naturedly talked to them all. One of them, the golden one, sat in front of her, waiting.
“That’s Lucy,” he said. “She’ll sit there patiently until you pet her. The others all run around in excitement because they have company.”
“They don’t run away?”
“This is where their food is,” Jake said. “Twice a day, morning and night. They have work to do—keep the wildlife away from the chickens and any unfriendlies away from the house. And if they ran off, I don’t know who’d go looking for them.”
Close to the house was a vegetable garden with tomatoes that were huge, melons nearly ripe, zucchini and yellow hook-neck squash. There was a row of lettuce and a large plot of cucumbers. “Zoe likes to can pickles,” he explained. There were a couple of apple trees and Jake pulled two off, rubbed off the dust on his jeans until they shone deep red. He handed her one.
There was a swing set with two swings, a slide and hanging rings. Beside it, a sandbox. “The grandchildren,” he said.
He showed her the chickens, kept in a modern coop that was heated in winter, their three horses in the pen and two miniature mules. There were two cows and an old bull in the pasture. “They’re more of a hobby than anything. If Richard gets a calf, he usually just sells it. Once he had a Clydesdale—someone was mistreating the horse so Richard took him in until he could find a permanent home. It took him five years.”
“Five years!”
“I suspect he was dragging his feet. It’s an expensive horse to feed and take care of and Richard’s Clydesdale didn’t make beer commercials. But his kids were young then and loved that horse.”
He walked her through the cornfield to a pond right on the property.
“Oh, my God, it’s beautiful,” she said. “Did you swim in it as a kid?”
“We did not,” he said. “It’s a swampy thing. The water’s okay, but not as pleasant as the lake. We skated on it in winter.”
She saw a virtual army of big green farm machines, learned that three generations had lived in that farmhouse, his sister was a nurse who worked for a doctor in Willet, their two kids were grown and they had two grandchildren. She met a little pack of new kittens in the barn, got chased by a rooster and Lucy followed her devotedly, leaning against her regularly for a pat.
“I don’t know if I can leave this dog,” she told him.
“She’s a lover, isn’t she? Lucy was my dad’s dog. He passed six years ago.”
“Do you ever wish you were still involved with the farm?”
“Nah, I’m not a farmer. I like to come out here on a nice day, though. There’s nothing harder than running a farm but to a visitor like me it seems so peaceful and healthy. I don’t have to think about an early freeze, a bad storm, a long winter, a flood...” He picked a few daisies from a border along the side of the house, handing them to her.
“I bet you had adventures here,” she said.
He took her hand and led her through the yard toward the barn. “Adventures in weather,” he said with a laugh. “Blizzards in winter, tornadoes in summer, floods in spring. There are two types of kids raised in rural Minnesota. The ones who can’t be happy in the city—it’s too loud, messy, crowded, dangerous. And the ones who can’t wait to get off the farm. I was the latter.”
“I bet there were fun times,” she said.
“Like you and your cousins had,” he said. “Fun times, hard times. Growing up isn’t easy. Let’s go in the hayloft. I want to talk about something.”
“We’ve been talking the last couple of hours,” she said. “All the way here, out to the pond, through the veggies...”
He pulled on her hand. “You like those veggies, don’t you?”
“You have no idea what a luxury they are. Charley goes to the farmers’ stands all the time.” She looked around, saw the ladder to the loft. “I bet you got into a lot of trouble up there.”
“Not me so much as the other kids. Up you go,” he said.
“But what about Lucy?” she asked.
“I’m sure she’ll be waiting for you.”
“Why are we going up there?”
“Because after we’re done talking, we’ll want to be alone.”
“Oh,” she said. “I guess I get it now.” She smiled over her shoulder. “More kissing, I assume.”
“If you don’t mind.”
She stepped up onto the loft. There were a couple of hay bales, an old horse blanket and a pile of loose hay in the corner. There was also a big hatch, a window, that Jake opened to let in the breeze. He sat down on a bale and pulled her down beside him.
“Tell me how the summer usually ends for you and your cousins.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“When do you close up the house and leave?”
“When we were kids we left in time to get home and ready for school. We had to get our school things—new shoes, clothes, notebooks and things. We usually left right before Labor Day weekend.”
“And this year?”
“I don’t know. So much depends on Meg. We might be able to stay through the holiday weekend but we can’t stay after the temperatures drop. We’ve all avoided talking about it.”
“It’s August, Krista. We have to talk about it, you and me. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Go back to Saint Paul. Maybe to my mother’s? Or maybe I’ll rent a room, get a waitress job.”
“What if I said I don’t want you to go?” he asked.
“Careful, Jake,” she said. “You don’t want to bite off more than you can chew.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “I don’t want to scare you but I think I love you. I know you mean a lot to me, like nobody has. And I know I haven’t felt this way in a long, long time. Together, we just hit all the right notes. I don’t want you to go.”
“Well, I might not have a choice,” she said.
“If that lake house has to be closed up, I can find you a place.”
“Winter will come,” she said. “I don’t have a car. I have appointments I have to keep.”
“I’ll make a commitment to get you around,” he said. “Did you ever drive? Have a license?”
She shook her head. She had driven, many years ago, but never got her license. “I don’t want to be dependent on anyone,” she said.
“You’re dependent on Charley,” he pointed out.
“You know how different that is,” she said. “I’ve known you for two months!”
“Let’s think about where to go from here,” he said. “Just suppose we find you a place nearby for after your cousins leave. Something decent and affordable, close to the lodge so you can work. Just let me know when you need transportation—I’ll be glad to help with that. There will be cold, snowy days when you can’t walk. There will be your appointments and I suppose you’ll want to visit your mother. Let’s try it, Krista, because if you leave...” He shook his head. “I’d hate that. I love having you here. I love being here with you.”
“Just what are you suggesting?” she said.
“I don’t know. I want to be a couple. I don’t mean to rush you, I don’t want to pressure you, but I want you to know what I’m willing to do and I wanted to talk about it before summer is over. Before I wake up one morning and you’ve gone and we haven’t thought about what we could have been together.”
“A couple?”
“I don’t care what kind of couple as long as it boils down to me and you. Will you think about it? Talk to your cousins if you want to. Talk to you mother, maybe. I can’t promise you’ll be happy every day but I can promise I’ll give you my best and anything you need. If I can deliver it, I will. Krista, I just want to be with you. That’s all.”
She touched his cheek. “I think you’re a little crazy,” she said. “Sweet, but a little crazy. I’m not sure I can agree to anything right now. I’m new at this.”
“Then let’s just stay like we are,” he said. “We’ll give it time, let it grow, see where we go. If there’s a day you think it’s not right, not good for you, you’ll call your mom, you’ll tell me you need a ride. But the wild card is, you have to be here if we’re going to test it out. Take a chance on me, Krista.”
“I want to think about this,” she said.
“That’s all I ask.” He pulled her closer. “Now kiss me like the wild woman you are.” He pulled her arms around his neck.
She met his lips willingly. “That’s it. You’re getting a little wild stuff, aren’t you? I’m not wild anymore, Reverend McAllister. I want to be good.”
He laughed. “You are and I love you just the way you are, you sassy little broad.” He smothered her with a kiss that was hot and steamy. It never failed to melt her to the bone. She held on to him so tightly it was a wonder he could breathe.
He wants to be a couple. She wasn’t even sure what that meant. For right now it meant kissing her senseless, leaning back against the hay with him, holding each other and letting their tongues tangle. She could hear his heartbeat; she could taste his desire; she could feel arousal in both of them. Maybe this would be the day.
“What does it mean to be a couple?” she asked him.
“That you’re my girl and I’m your guy,” he said. “It can mean anything you want it to mean. You want me to keep walking you home? Do you want to live together? Do you want to be engaged? Whatever it is that doesn’t make you feel you’re at risk. You can count on me, I promise.”
There was a lot more kissing, leaving her feeling a little crazy and mushy inside. She had a wild urge to undress him. Instead, she broke away a little bit. “What if I only want you to walk me home sometimes? For the next year?” she asked him.
“As long as we’re in the same town so we can do that—you get to call the shots. That’s why I want you to think about staying here. I’ll help make that possible any way I can.”
“I shouldn’t trust so fast,” she said. “I’m inexperienced.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve had more experience than you can stand. I just want to be with you. But only if you want it, too.”
“I’m not ready,” she said.
“Just think about staying,” he said. “Everything else—let it mellow till you’re ready.”
“It should be at least a year before I make any decisions that could affect me permanently. I have to adjust to this life. This life of being a regular citizen.”
“Then stay a year,” he said. “There are places to rent here just like the city.”
“Aw, shit, let’s just make out,” she said.
“I’m down with that,” he said.
“And don’t try to be cool!”
* * *
Krista and Jake kissed themselves blind for about an hour. A little touching was added, a great deal of pushing and moving against each other, and she could sense the promise of how loving and satisfying making love with him could be. But not today, not in his sister’s hayloft. They reluctantly let go of each other, mostly because Krista needed a bathroom.
“You can use the house bathroom. The door is never locked.”
“Really? Is that wise?”
“No problems so far. The dogs bark when there’s company, remember.”
“And here’s dear Lucy,” she said. “She waited!”
“Told you.” He slid an arm around her waist and led her to the house. He opened the back door for her and she immediately jumped back.
“Hello?” Zoe said, turning from the sink.
“Hey, Zo,” he said, smiling at his sister. “I didn’t know you were home!” Then he went to her, kissing her cheek. She was almost as tall as him. She wore nurse’s scrubs and white tennis shoes.
“I came home a little early. What are you doing here?”
“Just knocking around the farm. This is Krista, my girlfriend.”
Zoe grinned and dried her hands on a dish towel. She stretched out a hand toward Krista, who had suddenly turned shy way down to her toes. “Girlfriend, is it?” she said with a chuckle. “How do you do!”
Krista muttered a greeting.
“We just came in to borrow the bathroom before heading back to Waseka,” he said. “It’s right around the corner,” he told Krista, giving her a little shove in that direction. “Ladies first.”
Krista didn’t really have a chance to look around, so stunned was she at running right into Jake’s sister. She hadn’t even had a chance to prepare herself! And then to be called a girlfriend? It was all a little much.
It was an attractive little bathroom, decorated to look like a Victorian powder room. So pretty. And like new. From the outside it looked like a very old house. She’d barely glanced at the kitchen and it appeared new. Jake’s sister must have remodeled.
She could hear them talking and laughing out there. Krista looked in the mirror. Her lips were ruby from kissing, her cheeks flushed. She had a six-inch stalk of hay in her hair. Dear God! She pulled it out and tossed it in the trash can. Then she plucked it out of the trash and tucked it into her pocket, hiding the evidence. Maybe Zoe hadn’t seen it.
Back in the kitchen she found that Zoe had a large basket of vegetables she was washing in her big sink, setting them out to dry on a dish towel on the counter. Gloriously bright colored tomatoes, squash, green beans, cucumbers, scallions, peppers and a colander full of leafy greens.
“My turn,” Jake said, leaving Krista in the kitchen.
“Your vegetable garden is beautiful,” Krista said.
“Thank you. I cheat a little bit—Richard or one of the guys tends it more than I do. I’m pretty busy with work and the grandkids.”
“I think you have everything growing out there. A real farmer’s garden.”
“I hope you’ll stay for dinner. Most of it’s coming out of the garden. I put a pork loin in the slow cooker with a couple of potatoes and onions. Richard needs his meat!”
“I’m sorry, I told my cousins I’d be back by dinner.”
Jake was back so quickly it was like he’d never gone. “Krista’s cousin has been battling cancer,” he said. He dropped an arm over Krista’s shoulders. “Is it okay to say that?” he asked a bit after the fact.
“Yes. Yes, sure. It’s not a secret. Breast cancer,” she said. “She’s been fighting a long time—four years now. She’s so happy to be at the lake house for the summer. She’s looking a little better.”
“You must be filled with hope,” she said. “We’ll add her to our prayers.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Since you can’t stay, will you at least raid the garden? It’s all such good, tasty stuff. And here it is August! We only have another month or six weeks left before fall.”
“I love the fall,” Krista said. “I don’t want summer to end but I can’t wait to see the leaves change color.”
“Where are you from, Krista?”
“Originally, Saint Paul. But I’ve spent the last twenty-three years in California.”
“Well, fall in the Sierras is glorious but our falls are pretty amazing, too, if you remember. Jake, you have to take her to Stillwater! The changing leaves along the Saint Croix River beat everything.” She pulled a grocery bag out of a drawer and handed it to her. “Let’s go pick, should we?”
“That’s very generous of you,” she said.
“I’m happy to thin the garden a little. And tell your cousin it’s all organic—no pesticides or fertilizer. We make our own mulch.” She grabbed a big knife out of her drawer. “Come on—I think I saw a great big broccoli flower just begging to be cut.”
Krista followed her, listening while she chattered away happily. She was a very attractive woman in her fifties, her close-cropped light brown hair streaked with blond. She had those same blue McAllister eyes and they danced happily; her slim arched brows were so expressive. Her smile was infectious.
“Here we go,” she said, lopping off a couple of broccoli stalks. She handed Krista the knife and pulled a pair of scissors out of the pocket of her scrubs. “Bandage scissors will do—I don’t want to go back inside and find a proper pair.” She cut about three inches off the top of leaf lettuce and romaine. “You need beans and tomatoes and scallions to finish a salad. And how about some of the yellow hook-neck squash? It’s still young and so delicious. Jake? Get me another bag! You’re not leaving here without at least two big zucchinis. Every day I see another one as big as a horse’s leg. Steam it with a great big onion.” She dug around and pulled one out of the ground. “Throw in some mushrooms and garlic—but you’re on your own for that. I don’t grow either. Would you like some flowers for your table?”
“That would be so nice...”
She walked over to the house where the flowers grew tall against the wall and began snipping them into a generous bouquet. “I don’t remember the last time Jacob brought a girlfriend around,” she said. “High school, maybe.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” he said.
“Bet it has,” she teased. “Here you go, carry these for Krista. Now, I want you to come back when you can stay a little while. We’ll have dinner. Let’s do it soon.”
“Thank you,” Krista said. “And thank you for all of this.”
“It’s a pleasure. I’m happy to share the garden with friends anytime. Now, you kids stay out of trouble,” she said, then laughed very happily at her own joke.
Jake gave Zoe a kiss on the cheek, told her to say hello to Richard, then escorted Krista to the truck and proceeded to load all the vegetables behind the passenger seat. Then he helped her in, putting the flowers in her lap, talking all the time. She didn’t hear a word he said.
She buckled up and watched the vast fields as they drove away. He was still talking. He was proud of Zoe, how friendly and generous she was. She was a nurse, had he mentioned that? So she would be sensitive to the fact that Krista’s cousin was fighting cancer. He hadn’t told Zoe and Richard about Andrea yet, and really, he couldn’t wait, but he was trying to be patient. He had a lot of explaining to do and wanted the time to do it.
“Hey,” he said, slowing the truck and pulling over. “You’re crying! Was something said that upset you?”
She shook her head.
“Then why?”
She turned her tear-filled eyes toward him. She hiccuped. “She’s so nice. She liked me...”
He rubbed a knuckle down her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Everyone likes you,” he said. “Know why? You’re very likable.”
She just dissolved into more tears. Sobs, really. Man, this crying thing, she thought. Once you let go, it was never-ending. Women who cried like this in prison were in for it. Someone took her aside that first week, covered her, protected her and told her to dry it up. Criers got beat up. But she was out now and the tears were freed.
Zoe was so nice. And Zoe liked her.
Jake put his arms around her while she cried into his shoulder.
Could it happen? Could it work? Could she live in the outside world among good people? People who didn’t wish to do anyone harm? Could she live in the arms of a good man? A man who didn’t want anything but her happiness? Could she? Could they?
“Good tears, I guess,” Jake said. He stroked her back. “Aw, sweetheart, everything is going to be okay.”
* * *
Jo didn’t bother knocking on the screen door at the lake house. The inside door stood open and she could hear voices. “Good morning,” she called, stepping into the house.
“Aunt Jo!” Charley and Meg both said.
“Ma!” Krista said. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“I drove Aunt Lou’s car. I’m sorry I didn’t ask if it was all right—I thought it was time we all talked. I have some things to explain. How about a cup of coffee? If you can spare one?”
“Absolutely. I’ll get it. Sit down. Tell us what’s on your mind,” Krista said.
“Well, you know I’ve been talking with Louise?”
“How’s that been going?” Krista asked, passing the coffee.
“I went to see Lou and begged her to talk about it all, negotiate a truce, kiss and make up.”
“And?” Charley asked.
Jo was momentarily distracted by Meg. She moved to her right slightly to press her cheek, giving her a little kiss. “How are you feeling, darling?”
“Pretty good actually. I know I don’t look good, but that’ll come. I have a good appetite, Charley can vouch for that.”
“I so look forward to watching you blossom.” She sipped her coffee. “So, Lou and I have been talking, resolving our differences. It was much easier than I expected, really. We’re both to blame for our standoff. Without going into all the details, we were both angry about a lot of things. Lou feels afraid everyone blames her because she was the one to make the proclamation that the lake house was closed, forbidding anyone from coming back.”
“Well, it was her,” Charley said.
“And it was me who wouldn’t try to reason with her or change her mind. Don’t you think I could have come here anytime I wanted to? I was letting her simmer in her own juices. Her own lonely juices. I was withholding my affection and making myself emotionally unavailable because I was angry with her. It’s Lou’s way to lash out and let everyone know when she’s angry. Not me. I’m passive-aggressive.”
“Aunt Jo, you don’t have to be so forgiving,” Charley said. “Mother was hoarding all the booty from Grandma Berkey’s house! She can be so selfish.”
“Actually, she wasn’t hoarding. She was storing. She was saving all the valuable stuff for our retirement. Both of us. She was pretty sure I wouldn’t have anyone to take care of me and she intended to be sure I had the means. We’re planning an estate sale.” She shook her head. “She’s lucky that house of hers didn’t go up in flames. She’s lucky she wasn’t robbed. I fired her cleaning crew. We’re moving ahead. Then we’re getting rid of her house and my condo. We’re looking around for the right arrangement—probably a duplex of some kind. We’ll be very close neighbors but not roommates, if we can find something. We talked to an agent who says that should be easy.”
“Really?” Charley said, astonished.
“We’re both so relieved by this decision. Especially your mother. I didn’t realize how lonely she’s been. She has a lot of regrets and doesn’t quite know how to go about mending her fences. She’ll be the first to admit, she has a lot of foolish pride. I told her it would be easy—all she has to do is say that. Don’t we all want to be a family again if we can?”
“Well...sure...but we’re pretty busted up,” Charley said.
“The three of you managed just fine and I do believe you’re thriving. If this could be the first of many summers, wouldn’t that be nice? I think it could be. I told Lou we had to come right away and talk to you, explain our reconciliation, our plans. We want to know if there’s anything of Grandma’s you have an eye for before it’s all gone the way of the estate sale. There’s a lot of old junk but there are some beautiful pieces and if there’s anything... Well, we talked and talked and talked. I insisted we come right away. Putting it off makes no sense—the summer is almost over. But poor Lou. She’s terrified. She thinks everyone hates her. Blames her for everything. I told her that wasn’t true, that we’re all just sick of her cranky, sourpuss attitude.”
“You told her that?” Meg said.
Jo nodded. “Made her cry.”
“Mother doesn’t cry,” Charley said.
“It’s you she particularly wants to make amends with. When you were sixteen, when you were pregnant and she insisted you go away to have the baby, she wasn’t in her right mind. She couldn’t undo it and she believes you’ll never forgive her.”
“She might’ve tried saying she was sorry,” Charley said.
“She might be in a better place to do that now,” Jo said. “She’s not all alone now.”
“We’ll see,” Charley said. “When I see her next. I’ll be sure to visit her before I leave Minnesota.”
“You can visit with her right now,” Jo said. “She’s in the car.”
“She’s in the—”
“I got her in the car,” Jo said. “I couldn’t get her out. She said when you all turn her away, it will be too much. I told her she was a big baby and everything would be fine. She didn’t believe me.” She smiled weakly. “Twenty-seven years is a long time to nurse a grudge.”
“She’s in the car?” Meg said.
Jo nodded. “I’ve never seen her like this. Someone is going to have to go get her.”
“I can go,” Meg said.
“I think it should be Charley,” Jo said. “You’re the one she’s most afraid will never forgive her, never give her a chance. Are you ready to help me tidy up this mess?”
“Why do I always get the hard jobs?” Charley said.
“Well, you’re the strongest one,” Jo said.
“Wish I felt like the strongest one,” she muttered.