Resisting Rose, page 9
RB: Saw your truck but couldn’t find you for coffee this morning.
There was a sad face after the message, then a follow up.
RB: Lunch instead?
He blew out a breath. Tate hated disappointing Rose, and while it wasn’t an official date, coffee in the mornings had sort of become their thing and he’d totally dropped it. Even worse, he couldn’t do lunch either, since he had plans with a supplier.
TR: I’m sorry about coffee. It’s already been a crazy morning. Wish I could do lunch, but I can’t today. Dinner tonight?
RB: Youth group tonight.
Tate tried not to be disappointed. He thought it was great that Rose had volunteered with the church youth group for so many years. It would be selfish of him to, just this once, wish she didn’t have to.
TR: Tomorrow night?
RB: It’s a date.
Tate slid his phone back into his pocket and went back to counting onions. Tomorrow night seemed like a long way away, but he knew there were plenty of things to keep him busy. It would go by in a flash.
While the representative from the fertilizer company prattled on about the latest and greatest developments in organic fertilizers, Tate’s phone rang loudly.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he pulled it out. If it was the farm, he could probably wrap things up here. Lunch was over, but the guy just kept talking.
It wasn’t the farm though. His brother’s name and number flashed on the screen. Tate silenced the call and set the phone face down on the table.
“Do you need to get that?”
“Nope, go on. What were you saying about the expected yield?”
That nudge was all the sales guy needed to go on for another ten minutes. Tate’s phone buzzed a few times, but he refused to check it. Travis would give up eventually.
Youth group that night was a celebration for the graduating senior class and the end of the school year. As an adult, it always felt nostalgic. When you worked year-round, there was no such thing as summer vacation. Especially on the farm, since summer was one of the busiest seasons. Between the added work for everyone to help with the produce and the extra work keeping the animals watered, fred, and vaccinated. Not to mention the sheep shearing, hay baling, and the petting zoo.
Clearly, Tate had the same issue. They usually saw each other every day, so today had been a letdown. She’d hung around his office and looked around the barn a bit, but Tate had disappeared. She knew better than anyone that an unpredictable schedule came with the territory. After all, hadn’t she and Tate bonded over middle-of-the-night deliveries? Still, it was no wonder she hadn’t found much time to date before.
At least Tate understood. Why wouldn’t he? He grew up on a ranch. And if they stayed together, he’d be as much an owner of Bloom’s Farm as she would. Maybe more, if she was supposed to be her mother in this scenario.
The more she thought about her sister’s offhanded comments, the more it drove her crazy that all her hard work didn’t really matter. All her dad needed was for one of his daughters to marry someone who could run the farm. So much for Hawthorne trading goats for her hand in marriage. Her dad would sign over the farm!
She took a deep breath. Rose knew she was being ridiculous. There was still a lot more to the picture. Hawthorne was happy running the farm, even if he didn’t have the day-to-day patience for the fine details.
Still, it still irked her that she wasn’t even officially a manager at Bloom’s Farm. Wasn’t that embarrassing? For five years, she’d been doing everything centered around the livestock, and she was still earning the same amount as she made when she moved back to help her dad. And her father was still looking over her shoulder just as much as he always had.
As she sulked, Pastor Stephen stood up in front of the group of rowdy teenagers and got their attention. After congratulating everyone, he gave a short sermon on spiritual gifts and God’s purpose. Rose knew it was aimed at the students, all desperately trying to figure out what they were supposed to do with their lives. But as she listened, her thoughts circled around her own life. She’d never questioned what God had called her to do. It had always been the animals, even when she was a little girl. She loved caring for them, healing them, and sharing them with others. Eventually, she recognized how God had gifted her specifically for those things.
And yet, was it enough? Maybe she wasn’t as good as she thought she was. Her dad and brother still seemed intent on involving themselves in every major decision about her animals. She apparently wouldn’t get to take over unless she had a man in her life.
It was all so frustrating. And she didn’t blame Tate, she really didn’t. He was the one who always trusted her expertise and was happy to follow her lead. When he gave suggestions, they came from a place of experience and respect.
She didn’t need him. She didn’t want to be her mother, as much as she loved her. Laura had helped her dad run the farm, but mostly by keeping the books and occasionally helping with a few chores. But the farm? It was Keith Bloom’s. Everyone knew it.
Rose wanted to use the gifts she had been given. She wanted to make it on her own. The last thing she wanted was to finally get everything she’d worked for, but for the wrong reasons. And anything that had to do with her being part of some model future farm family was absolutely the wrong reason.
16
During the summer, Saturday mornings were reserved for farmers’ markets. Tate and his employees divided up the available produce and manned the Bloom’s Farm booths at markets from Terre Haute to Greencastle. This week, Tate was in Minden. It helped that he lived there now.
He made change for a customer and shielded his eyes from the sun as he spotted a familiar shape coming toward his table. Rose looked stunning this morning in shorts and a flowy top. Of course, he liked her in jeans and a work shirt, but when she was in anything else—casual or dressy—he sometimes had to do a double-take.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
She stepped behind the table with him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Can I interest you in some onions?” he joked.
She smiled. “I think I’ll avoid extra onions for now. I wouldn’t want bad breath when I go out with my boyfriend.”
“He’d probably still kiss you,” Tate winked.
Rose laughed, then looked at his half-empty truck bed. “Been busy this morning?”
Tate nodded. Minden was always a good market, but it seemed everyone was eager for some fresh vegetables after the long winter.
“You here to keep me company? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Rose bagged up an order for a customer while they chatted. “Dad caught me in the kitchen this morning and told me to take the day off. Said he wanted to take care of the chores for once.” She shrugged. “Who am I to argue with the boss? Besides, there wasn’t much to do this morning. I figured he could handle it.”
“It’s nice to see how far he’s come since the stroke.”
“Definitely. There was a time we didn’t know if he would walk again, let alone do anything else.” Her features were sad and Tate touched her arm.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing, sorry. I can’t help but think how much worse it could have been. Especially since it was my fault.”
Tate frowned. “You don’t mean that. A stroke isn’t anyone’s fault, Rose.”
Before she responded, Rose rearranged the produce on the table and straightened the small pricing signs. “We had a fight that morning, right before his stroke.”
Tate heard the pain in her voice and instinctively wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That doesn’t make it your fault. If arguing with your father could give him a stroke, mine would have croaked a long time ago.”
She sniffled a laugh and shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m fine. He’s fine, more importantly. I try not to think about it too much.”
“Excuse me, when will you have sweet corn?” The polite question came from across the table, and Tate stepped up to handle the customer.
“It won’t be until July, at the earliest. It’ll be worth the wait though!” He flashed the woman a smile. “I’ve got some wonderful asparagus that would be great on the grill,” he offered instead. He heard his phone vibrate on the bed of the truck, and nodded when Rose offered to check it. It was probably one of the workers calling from another farmers’ market.
“It’s Travis?” Rose said, confusion obvious in her voice.
Tate’s jaw tightened. “Just ignore it.”
Rose raised an eyebrow but silenced the phone. He turned back to the customer and talked her into a bundle of fresh spinach to go with her asparagus.
“Travis is your brother, right?”
Tate nodded curtly. He didn’t want to dive into this right now. Or ever, for that matter.
“You can go call him back if you need to. I can handle the booth for a bit.”
Agitated, Tate grabbed a crate of broccoli crowns from the back of the truck. Maybe moving something heavy would help him release some of the frustration. “I’m not calling him back.”
“Why not?”
“I’m just not.”
“He’s your brother though.”
“Please leave it alone, Rose.” He sounded sharper than he meant to. Logically, he knew Rose’s question came from the reality of her own experience, where siblings were in constant contact and one another’s closest friends. But that wasn’t his life. He wouldn’t call his brother back this time, just like he hadn’t called him back the last three times he had called.
Rose held up her hands as though in surrender. “Okay, sorry I offered.” She stared at him for a second, then turned and walked away from the booth. Of course, all that made him feel like an even bigger jerk. He hadn’t meant to take it out on her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Tate sighed and rubbed a hand over his beard.
Really mucked that one up, didn’t he? And now he couldn’t even follow Rose and apologize because he had to stay and man the table.
Was this how it started for his parents? With a frustrated reaction and no time to deal with it? The hurt in Rose’s eyes was exactly the kind of wounded look he remembered seeing from his mother.
“How much is the broccoli?”
Tate was rescued from his thoughts by another customer. “Three dollars each, sir.” He would have to deal with it later. Rose would come back eventually and he could apologize. Maybe he could even explain why things were so different for his family compared to hers. Would it help her understand, or would it just make it worse?
After the third person stopped her to chat, Rose decided small towns were officially unsuited to private pouting. She’d better leave or go back and face Tate. Either way, she couldn’t walk around being angry, because too many people insisted on interrupting.
She turned back toward the Bloom’s Farm table and came face to face with the familiar smile of Miss Ruth. Her elbow was linked with the arm of a jovial-looking man with gray hair and light blue eyes.
“Rose Bloom, is that you?”
Rose’s smile was genuine as she greeted the older woman. “Hi, Miss Ruth. It’s good to see you. Norm, how are you?”
“Can’t complain.”
“Are you here with Tate?” Ruth’s question was laced with curiosity and Rose felt the blush in her cheeks in response.
“I did come to see him, but I figured I’d take a lap around the market and check out the competition.” That was probably stretching the truth a bit, since she didn’t remember a single booth she’d passed. But Ruth laughed at the joke.
“Well, we’ll be headed his way soon. Norm has to decide what the special is tonight at the bistro, but he likes to see what looks good before he decides.”
“Best thing a chef can do is let God direct the menu,” Norm added.
Rose nodded, “Well, I think we’ve got some veggies you’ll like, but you better head over there soon. Tate has been keeping busy.”
Rose made her way back to the table and stood off to the side while Tate completed another transaction. She hadn’t been exaggerating to Norm and Ruth about the busyness.
When the coast was clear, she cleared her throat to let Tate know she was there. She stood awkwardly, holding one elbow and unsure of how to approach the situation. She and Tate didn’t really fight. Wager, yes. Tease? Absolutely. But fight? Never.
She debated apologizing. It was none of her business whether Tate called his brother back. Obviously, her family was close, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think every family was that way. Tate’s reaction to her presence made her debate pointless.
Tate stepped close and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s a long story about my brother and my family, and someday, I promise I’ll tell you about it. But it doesn’t matter—I still shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you. That was a jerk move.”
Rose nodded. “It was, but I’m sorry I pushed. Your relationship with Travis is none of my business. It’s hard for me to imagine not wanting to answer if one of my sisters called, and I guess I projected that on you a bit.”
Tate glanced at a browsing customer before turning back to Rose. “Are we okay?”
“Of course. Oh, Miss Ruth and Norm are headed this way. I guess he wants something for the dinner special at the bistro.”
Tate looked at the half-empty truck bed. “I guess we’ll see what we’ve got when he gets here. I should talk to them about pre-ordering. He does this fairly regularly, but I never think to hold things back for him.”
“I think that’s fair. You’d hate to hold back four bushels of spinach and then be stuck with them.”
He stood next to her, leaning against the open tailgate of his truck. Tate watched Rose as she watched the people strolling past the booth. She really was beautiful.
“I really am sorry, Rose.”
She looked over at him and gave a small smile. “It’s okay.” Her fingers nudged his on the tailgate between them, and he shifted his hand to cover hers.
Staring at their linked fingers, he explained. “It’s really not. My dad treated my mom like garbage. He took all his frustrations out on her—about the farm, about us kids, about his own bad habits and addictions.” Rose squeezed his fingers, and he shifted to meet her eyes. “I never want to be that guy who lashes out at whoever is convenient.”
“It really wasn’t that bad, Tate.”
He shook his head. Regardless of what Rose said, he couldn’t help seeing the echoes of his father in his actions.
Before he could say anything, Ruth and Norm walked up.
“Good morning, Miss Ruth. Norm.” Tate shook Norm’s hand and walked around the table for a hug from the petite redhead.
“Morning, Tate. How are things at the cabin? All good we hope.”
Tate grinned. “The cabin is perfect. I feel extremely lucky to have landed there after the tornado wiped out my trailer.”
Ruth clucked her tongue and patted his cheek. “You poor thing. God has a way of putting people in that cabin who need it most.” She turned to Rose, “And you! Tate here said you were actually in the trailer when the twister hit it?”
Rose nodded sheepishly.
Ruth bustled around the table and wrapped Rose in a hug. “Oh, sweetie. We’re so glad you’re okay.”
“I’m totally fine, Miss Ruth. Thanks to Tate here. Did he tell you he was the one who braved the storm to come get me out?”
Ruth leaned in to whisper in Rose’s ear. Tate’s whole mood changed at the sound of her laughter. Norm and Tate shifted to talking about the produce and Norm settled on the perfectly ripe asparagus. After hearing the man talk about the ideas he had for using it, Tate’s stomach was growling.
“I’m glad I still had enough left for you, Norm. We should chat sometime about reserving what you need instead of hoping you can snag it at the market.”
“We could do that. But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to bring Ruth here every week for a little morning date.”
Tate saw the way Norm looked at Ruth with absolute reverence and adoration. They were a cute couple. “Fair enough,” he laughed. “We’ll work something out. Someone would have to come pick it up here, even if you’ve got it reserved.”
Norm touched his nose with his forefinger and pointed it at Tate with a wink. “Now you’re thinking.”
After sending Ruth and Norm off with the asparagus, he and Rose packed up the rest of the booth. The remaining produce would still be good for another farmers’ market on Monday evening.
Watching Ruth and Norm together at the market made him wonder about the future for him and Rose. It wasn’t the first time. Watching Keith and Laura caused the same longing inside him for a long-term partner. Marriage hadn’t worked out for his parents, for more than a handful of reasons. But it was hard to deny the steady, long-lasting love between the Blooms—or the pure, unbridled joy of the older couple who found each other in their golden years.
It wasn’t hard to imagine manning the produce table at the farmers’ market, a couple of kids counting back change to customers or running off to buy sticks of flavored honey from the beekeeper’s table. Or years further down the road, Rose’s blonde hair turning to silver, still sharing their coffee at the kitchen table.
His keys smacked him in the chest, and he rubbed the spot as he bent down to pick them up. Rose was looking at him with barely veiled amusement. “Nice catch, Cowboy,” she said with a raised eyebrow.
Tate’s smile spread across his face. If the future he imagined included sassy Rose keeping him on his toes, he was on board. He crossed the space between them as Rose continued talking. “If you’re back from whatever daydream you were in, I said we’re done here. Are you headed back to the farm?”
He turned slightly and gently pushed her against the tailgate of the truck.
“Um, Tate?”
“Yes, Rose?” His fingers traced her collarbone as he tucked his hand behind her neck. She arched her neck into the contact.
