Second Chance Rose, page 20
As we walked through the orchard, Margo began asking about their approach to insect control, one of the biggest challenges to organic farming, I’d learned.
“Like everything else we do, we start with a systems-based approach,” Rose said. “A well-designed, healthy organic system naturally has fewer pest problems. So crop rotation plays into that, as well as cover drops, using disease-resistant varieties, intercropping.” Margo nodded again, encouraging Rose to continue. “Here in the orchard we remove branches infected with fire blight, then burn them on the far side of the property.” She pointed in the direction she meant. “Fortunately, that’s been only a handful of times in the past three years.”
“And if that fails to work in the future?” Margo stopped in the midst of the cherry trees and looked down her nose at Rose.
“Well, we’d introduce insect predators and parasites, use canopy management, soil solarization…” Rose’s gaze went from the inspector to Felix and back again. “We are committed here, Margo. Whatever it takes, we will do what’s best for the health of our farm and our customers, now and forever.”
Margo didn’t respond, just eyed the three of us, as if evaluating every move and facial expression. After a long silence, she looked around at the parched fruit trees and the bone-dry grass beneath our feet.
Rose could explain all she wanted about the careful planning and dedication she and Pappy had put into the farm, but nothing could cover the effects of the heat dome that’d hit Orcas Island this week.
“I think I have everything I need here,” Margo said and once again began her purposeful strides.
For the first time since she arrived, I felt a flutter of panic. I quickly caught up with the inspector, Rose and Felix loping behind me. “What you see here… We can explain—”
“It’s the process itself I’m here to inspect,” she interrupted my nervous justification. “Not the products that result from it.” She kept walking as she added, “Let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot worse this week. You’ve fared very well.”
My chest swelled with pride for Rose and her grandfather. When we reached Margo’s car, the woman turned and held out a hand. “You should hear from the USDA next week.” Margo shook Rose’s hand—two firm pumps. And then she was in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. With a brisk wave, she was off down the drive, dust billowing up behind her.
The three of us watched until she turned onto the main road.
“Congratulations, sweetheart. I think you won her over,” Felix said.
Rose kicked her boot in the gravel. “I’m not counting those chickens yet, Pappy. But I’m proud of us.” She wrapped her arms around his birdlike frame.
He returned the hug, patting her back. “Me, too, sweetheart. Me, too.”
CHAPTER 22
“Coming to the party?” Bluebell asked over cod dogs two weeks later at our Friday Cottle’s lunch. Another of Freddy’s ideas, they involved tempura-battered pieces of cod on a hot dog roll with dill dijonnaise, tartar, lemon-pickled onions, cucumbers, and pea shoots. She took an enormous bite, oblivious to the sauce on her chin, her curls bouncing as she chewed.
“Nah. Not really my scene.” I sipped on a Corona, the perfect drink for Freddy’s delicious dogs.
“Not your scene? It’s everyone’s scene,” she said. “I know for a fact Domino’s going above and beyond to make it special for islanders.”
I shrugged.
“Aw, come on, Rose,” she pleaded. “You have to come. Please?” She put down her dog and held her palms together in a prayer gesture. “For me?”
I grabbed her hands to end her entreaty. “Begging won’t work,” I teased. “But you deserve to have a great time—with or without me.”
“Because August isn’t home yet?” He’d had to leave for California after the inspection to rejoin the film shoot and wasn’t expected home again until Sunday.
“What? No. Pappy and I have things to do. You know, we’ve started getting orders from as far south as Portland. River’s friend just opened a restaurant down there, and he wants Big Oak produce.”
“That’s great. But we’re not changing the subject. You’re not getting off that easy.” She waved a finger at me.
“I’m not trying to—”
“Then come,” she interrupted. “You and Felix were a big part of making everyone feel welcome here—Domino told me so herself.”
“She did?”
“Yep. She said more than one crew member told her how special it was to eat locally grown food while they were here. And several others mentioned the farmers market. She said they all think Orcas Island is the best place they’ve ever stayed on location for a shoot.”
“Well, look around. It’s paradise.” I waved to my right, where a fishing boat bobbed in front of the pier, a giant Sitka spruce stood tall against the sky to the east, and the outline of Mt. Baker, the third highest peak in the state, towered in the distance.
“It’s the people, though, she said. Hey, Domino moved here, remember? And her attention is bringing in more tourists, which means more money in the economy, making it easier for year-round folks like you and me to thrive. I, for one, am super grateful. I just want you and Felix to be there. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
I took another bite of cod dog and contemplated. Around us, seagulls cried and crows squawked amid the familiar sounds of Mary and Louis greeting customers and taking orders.
“Don’t forget—Felix deserves a celebration, too,” Bluebell continued her case. “You worked really hard doing this organic thing. You know he loves a good party.”
Swallowing the last bite, I clapped my hands together. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!”
“What?” Bluebell watched as I dug furiously in my bag until I found my phone. “Whaaaat?” she said again when I didn’t answer, just called up my email and scrolled to find what I was looking for. Finally I turned the screen to face her.
Bluebell squinted against the sun to read, “United States Department of Agriculture National Organic Program. Big Oak Farm, 106 Winslow Road, Orcas Island, Washington, meets all the requirements prescribed in the…” Her voice trailed off, and she leaped to her feet, napkin dropping from her lap. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Rose! That is huge!” She ran around to my side of the table. “Congratulations, friend,” she said, pulling me to my feet and wrapping me in a hug. “You did it!”
She held me at arm’s length, a hand on each shoulder. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, then turned and told everyone within listening distance, “Everyone, say hello to the best organic farmer on Orcas Island!”
A whoop went up at the take-out window, and I looked across to see Mary leaning forward, two thumbs up in the air. “That’s our girl!” she called and started clapping. Soon the customers around us joined in, several of who wolf-whistled in celebration.
Bluebell grabbed my hand and hoisted it in the air. “Hip-hip hooray!” she said.
“Hip-hip hooray!” came a chorus of replies.
I was embarrassed at the attention but thrilled to be celebrating the hard work and dedication Pappy and I had devoted four years of our lives to. I did a little curtsy to show my appreciation, heat tingling my cheeks, but my smile felt like it stretched from ear to ear. Louis came to our table with another round of Coronas.
“On the house,” he said as he set them down. He, too, took me in a heartfelt hug. “Congratulations, my dear. You did us all proud. Will we see you and Felix at the party Sunday?”
“You’re going?” I was surprised. It would mean closing up shop on what was normally the busiest day of the week at Cottle’s.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He winked before he retreated through the double doors to the kitchen.
“See? Everyone will be there,” Bluebell said. “Including you and Felix. Right?” She nudged my arm. “Right?” she repeated when I hesitated.
Finally I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. It seemed futile to resist. “Oh, all right.”
“Yay! Another reason to celebrate.” She reached for the Coronas, passed one to me, and clinked her bottle against mine. “Come on, let’s look across the sound while we drink these.” She led me to the side of the pier, where we could take in the vast stretch of blue before us. Buoys wobbled in the bay, waves gently lapped the pillars below, and the July sun kissed our cheeks as we soaked up the sounds and smells of this wonderful place we called home.
CHAPTER 23
My knuckles were gripped around the armrests as the ferry docked in Bayview on Saturday. I wasn’t anxious about work, though. I wanted everything to be perfect for Rose. I’d thought carefully about what I wanted to say to her and how I wanted to say it. But before that, I needed to talk to Felix.
It was market day. I’d flown back a day ahead of the crew to speak with him before Rose arrived home from Grange Hall. Felix didn’t have a cell phone, so I was at Bluebell’s mercy to both delay Rose’s departure from the market and keep me posted when she headed out for home.
Command to Bluebell, I texted. What’s your status?
I was relieved when she texted back right away. I crossed my fingers for good news.
The subject is in sight. Bluebell followed it with a detective emoji. It was cute and all, but I needed the hard facts.
And?
And we’re at Grange Hall. Ginger’s in on the ruse. Ever had whiskey with ginger coffee?!
Sounds revolting. But keep it up. Docking now and going straight to the farm.
Roger that, she replied. I dropped my phone in my bag, picked up my belongings, and headed to the stern of the boat, where I waited with the other passengers to disembark.
I sprinted up the ramp to the terminal as fast as my knee would let me and hot-footed down the hill to the Driftwood Inn, where, just as she’d promised, Fern was waiting out back with the keys to the hotel’s blue jeep. With the ocean breeze blowing through my hair, on my way to see Felix Hardy about my girl, I was on top of the world.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as I neared the turn for Big Oak. I pulled into the driveway and stopped, fearing Bluebell had bad news.
Don’t know how much longer I can hold her. Out of whiskey.
I chuckled. At the farm. I’ll text as soon as I talk to Felix.
Better hurry.
I took her instruction to heart and floored it to the cottage, dust and gravel flying in my wake. The screen door pushed open, and Felix appeared on the porch, his hand shading his eyes to see who it was. Fig rushed to the top of the steps and barked, her tail wagging. I parked the jeep and hopped out.
“August! You back from your trip? Rose isn’t home—”
“I know,” I interrupted him. My palms were suddenly sweaty, and my heart was thudding against my rib cage. “I don’t have much time.”
“Did something happen?” His forehead creased with worry.
“No, no. It’s nothing like that. Walk with me?” In my mind when I’d played this out, Felix and I were under the old oak tree.
His brows unfurrowed, but he still looked befuddled. “Well, all right, son. Let me just get my—”
I hated to interrupt him again. I touched his arm. “You know, let’s just stay here. Time’s running out.” I joined him on the porch.
“Time for who? What’s the hurry?”
I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, sending my nerves jangling all over again. I tried to remember what I’d planned to say to him, but my mind was blank. “If you’re kind and loving to others, they’ll be kind and loving to you.” I heard Zoe’s words in my head. I was better off speaking from the heart anyway.
“I love Rose,” I said.
Felix chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know, kid. You’ve always loved her.”
Of course he knew. No one had spent more time around Rose and me than him. He’d watched us grow together, fall in love the first time, watched us stumble and find ourselves again. I nodded. “You’re right. I love this place, too. What you two have done here…” I looked out over the property, the neat rows of corn, the pretty branches of fruit trees dotting the orchard, the worn little cottage to the right, the big old house to the left. “I’ve been around the world, Felix. Big Oak is special. It’s who you are. Who Rose is. And if it’ll have me, it’s who I am, too.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat when I turned to him, this man who’d been such a steady presence for most of my life—and since my return. His eyes held more than just their usual sparkle; they were bright and watery with tears.
“Rose means the world to me, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to her.” My phone buzzed in my pocket again, sending my pulse racing. Surely they were almost here. “I came to see you today because I want to ask her to marry me, and I would be honored to have your blessing.” Buzz buzz. My armpits were wet with sweat.
He looked me squarely in the eyes, considering my words carefully. A look of approval came over his face, and he stuck out his hand. I grasped it gratefully, his calloused fingers strong despite his seventy-plus years.
“Thought you’d never ask. Welcome home.”
I clasped his shoulder with my left hand, my right one shaking his vigorously as I let out a whoop of joy. “Thank you. I won’t let her down. Ever.”
His grip tightened. “Better not, son.”
In the distance a cloud of dust billowed in the air near the end of the driveway. “Just under the wire,” I said as the Big Oak van approached, the love of my life at the wheel. I had her grandfather’s blessing and a smile on my face. I threw my head back and whooped again. Welcome home, indeed.
“What’s going on?” I was happy to see August home early but still surprised. I climbed down from the van, the door squeaking on its hinges as it swung shut. “Wait a minute. Are you crying, Pappy?” I rushed up the steps to the porch.
He swiped a bony finger at a tear on his cheek, but his eyes twinkled with joy, not pain. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He touched August’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Fig.” He slapped his thigh.
“But where are you—”
The screen door banged shut before I could finish my question.
August came toward me, hands in his pockets, his smile tender. It was late afternoon, and the air held a hazy glow of gold that softened his cheekbones and the hard lines of his shoulders. “You’re home.” I folded into his embrace like a lunar module docking to its ship. His arms wrapped around me, sure and strong.
“I missed you.” His voice was husky in his chest. I nodded, inhaling his smell of salt and sun. He pulled away, tracing his fingers down my arms. “Come with me,” he said and tugged me down the steps and into the grass.
He led me to the far end of the orchard, where sun cast shafts of filtered light through the branches of the big Garry oak. He stopped at the top of the rise and turned to face me, both hands now clasped in mine.
“Remember at the farmers market, when Zoe pulled the Wheel of Fortune? I’ve been thinking about that moment—what she said—a lot. She told me to make the most of the good moments in life while they’re in reach—because they could be gone in a heartbeat.”
I nodded. How had I thought her foolish when everything she’d said was right?
“At the time I dismissed it, I think because it hit so true. I’m proof of how quickly the good things in life, the things you count on, can disappear. All I’ve done since I left is dig a hole of pity for myself. Told myself I wasn’t good enough—for anyone.”
August squeezed my fingers when my eyes blurred with tears.
“I didn’t cherish you back then, and I lost you.” His voice wavered. “I don’t want to lose you again. Ever. I want to marry you, help you grow Big Oak, have a family someday. I don’t feel sorry for myself, not anymore. You’ve shown me what’s important. Love. Purpose. Hard work.” He dropped my hands and dug in his pocket for a little velvet pouch the color of eggplant.
He loosened the ties and pulled out a platinum-gold ring with diamonds inlaid in a vine. I gasped as he dropped to his knee—both with exhilaration and concern.
He let out a laugh of relief. “Didn’t hurt, Rose. Nothing could hurt me right now.”
I giggled, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“So how about it? Will you marry me?”
I reached out to haul him to his feet. I wanted to be standing right in front of him, this man I now realized I trusted in ways I’d never expected to trust again. I touched his chin with my thumb and smiled.
“Yes.” It came out as calm as the water in the bay that night we’d swam to the rock. I’d never felt so sure of anything. Then I was enveloped in his arms, and his lips were on mine in a kiss that sent shivers to my toes.
When I could speak again, I repeated my answer. “Yes, August Quinn. I’ll marry you.”
He lifted me in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around him as he spun me, laughing against my ear. When he set me down, I nudged him back until he was against the fissured old trunk of the oak. Now it was my turn to kneel. Knees in the dirt, I unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down, releasing a cock that was thick and throbbing. He groaned as I took him in my mouth, the taste of him salty on my tongue. He clasped my shoulders, his fingers digging in as he called out my name. But when his cock got so hard I thought he would burst, he gently pushed himself free to step out of his jeans. He sat to the ground in front of me, leaning back on the tree while he nudged open the button on my shorts and unzipped the fly.
I stood and shucked out of them, tossing them with my panties and his jeans. In tandem we slipped out of our shirts, too, and I unclipped my bra and dropped it to the ground.
His eyes swept up my body, lingering on the V between my legs, his mouth open, his eyelids hooded. I’d never felt more beautiful, more wanted. More seen.
“Wow.”
It was a single word, but it said more than a thousand. August saw me the way I saw him—as my person. We’d lost ten years, but we hadn’t lost each other. When we were together, it was with our whole hearts.
