But here I was, wishing Anna weren’t in the cabin but living inside here instead. With me.
She wasn’t just a temporary employee. Not to me.
But she’d been through hell. She needed space, not pressure. Already, I was seeing the subtle change in her. She no longer ran menus past me. She didn’t ask if I wanted the flowers or pillows. She was quietly reclaiming her life, and in the process, she was breathing a little of it back into the house as well.
I ran a hand across my face and exhaled. The farm had always given me peace. Purpose. Now I was grateful for thephysical labor that kept me too tired to go where my heart wanted.
Today, I was working in the nursery where the humidity cloaked me like a wet blanket. I started checking on the rows of saplings that were ready to transplant. This was the straightforward part of the job. Caring for the seedlings in the controlled environment of the greenhouse was relatively simple. Once they were transferred to large outdoor containers or the open field, they were subject to an array of threats, including pests and diseases, storms, and temperature swings. But that was part of the process, and thankfully, we rarely lost plants to any of those risks.
I spent much of the morning culling the weaker plants, separating the ones that looked to have the best chance of thriving. My crew would then handle the transplanting.
I was almost done when the sound of the door opening made me look up. Anna stood just inside the door, a wicker basket dangling from her arm.
I brushed some of the dirt from my hands and offered her a smile. “What have you got there?”
“It’s a warm day. I know the guys have water coolers down at the field, but I thought maybe you could use some cold water, too.”
I wiped the sweat from my brow and grinned at her. “You’re amazing.” I walked over to her and grabbed the bottle she offered, twisted off the cap, and drank half of it in one go. The cold water was a relief. I hadn’t realized how warm it had gotten, nor how long I’d been at the job.
She shifted slightly, hesitating before holding the basket out again. “Then I hope you’ll really like what else is in here.” Her lashes lowered, and she pulled a blue-checked cloth napkin away, revealing two muffins. “They’re nothing fancy, but…”
That hesitation again. That uncertainty I hated in her eyes. I forced myself not to react to it. At least she hadn’t sought my permission before making them, but even so, some remnant of whatever the hell Mason had done to her lingered.
Damn that Mason. If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him.
I took the still-warm muffin she offered and ate half of it in one bite. A touch of cinnamon and apple flooded my taste buds. “Damn. This is perfection in a muffin. You should make these more often.”
“Really?” Her face brightened.
“Definitely.”
The smile on her face lasted only a minute. The hesitation I hated came before she spoke. “I know Jordan is coming back this afternoon after school. It’s long after lunch is cleaned up. I wondered if it would be okay if I made dinner at the main house? I don’t know his circumstances or why he’s here, but I have a feeling he could use a good meal before he goes home. Or if you prefer, I can do it in the bunkhouse. I just didn’t want the other guys to know he was getting special treatment.”
The part of Anna I once knew and loved—the compassionate and instinctive nurturer—was still present beneath the surface. She didn’t even know Jordan, but she sensed what he needed.
I nodded. “Of course.”
I filled her in on his circumstance that brought him to be working for me. “He’s living with some other relatives just outside of town, but I don’t know them. But you’re right. It doesn’t feel like it’s the best situation, so we’ll try to do right by him while he’s here. Make whatever you think a kid his age will like best.”
She beamed. “I hoped you’d say that, but I wanted to make sure. I know it’s outside of what the farm provides for the hands, but?—”
“We take care of them no matter when they’re here. And you’re right. I think he needs looking after more than the others. Once school’s out and he’s here full time, we’ll figure things out as we go.”
She nodded, then turned to leave.
“Anna.” She paused and looked over her shoulder at me. “Feel free to make whatever you want, whenever you want. Even if it’s just for yourself. Okay?”
Her lips parted slightly, then she dipped her head. “Thank you,” she answered softly, then slipped out the door.
I watched her go, exhaling slowly. Someday, I’d get her to tell me what the hell life had been like living with Mason. But for now, like Jordan, she needed someone to look out for her. And I was feeling more than up to the job.
I glanced at my watch while I waited near the barn to meet Jordan. He was already nearly thirty minutes late. It wasn’t really a surprise. He was obviously here grudgingly. But I thought—hoped—maybe I’d made a dent in his tough veneer; sparked a slight interest in our operations. Apparently not. He saw this more as a punishment than an opportunity.
I was about to head back out to the fields when I spotted a figure slowly coming up the long driveway on a bike. I leaned against a porch rail, crossing my arms as he rolled to a stop in front of me. I inwardly grimaced at the condition of the bike, a slightly dented frame that was too small for him.
“You’re late,” I announced as he reached me.
His only answer was a scowl as he swung his leg over the bike and let it fall to the ground as if it had personally offended him.