Raspberries and Vinegar (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 1) (20 page)

Her mom frowned. “What else can it be? You’ll soon learn it’s a lot of hard work. You break your fingernails and get dirt wedged behind them. Your hands get callused and your muscles ache. It’s a nasty way to make a living. Most can’t do it.”

Best Mom didn’t take a close look at Jo’s hands. “I’m not afraid of labor, Mom. We’ll have guests paying to come experience our lifestyle.”

At Mom’s shocked look, Jo grinned. “I’m serious. There’s a huge market in it. So we’ll hire out what we can afford, and what can be done ethically, but all three of us are willing to get those sore muscles. It’s for a good cause.”

“Ethically.” Mom planted her hands on her hips. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jo stared at her. “Pardon me? It has everything to do with everything. You think I’m here reliving my childhood? No. We’re trying to preserve the earth so that future generations will have a place to live.” Back to discussing her mother’s husband, then. “That house Brad built for you is completely unsustainable. The two of you don’t need a fraction of that space or the expensive furniture and art that’s in it. It’s just for show.”

Mom sank to the edge of the bed. “Well, I never.”

“That kind of money could have sheltered dozens and dozens of families in true need.”

“Now that’s enough out of you, Josephine Lynn. Everyone makes their own future. Those people had their chance. It’s not my fault they live under a bridge somewhere. Look at me.”

There was nowhere else to look.

“I pulled myself up by my own bootstraps and found myself a wealthy husband. How dare you tell me I don’t deserve all the prestige Brad offers me? He’s one of the richest men in the country.”

“To whom much is given, much will be required.”

That seemed to take the wind out of her mother’s sails. Mostly because she didn’t have a clue what Jo was talking about, judging by her blank expression.

“God doesn’t allow us wealth so we can pamper ourselves. He gives it to us to use wisely, to share with those who are less fortunate. To make sure there’s still a clean planet for future generations.”

Mom shook her head, but said nothing.

How Jo wished the silence would last. Rosemary couldn’t return fast enough. But how could Jo convince the people of this town if she couldn’t even get her own mother to look at the situation clearly?

That wasn’t her job. All God asked was for her to be faithful.

“I don’t know why I even came.” Her mom’s voice dripped with ice. “I should have stayed home in California where I belong.”

Jo’s words flew out before she could censure them. “So, why did you come?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late.

Mom’s face crumpled. “You’re my daughter, my only child. I can see you don’t think I love you, but you’re wrong. I wanted to see for myself what called you so much you threw away everything Brad and I offered you.”

“I
’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that.” Oh, dear Lord, was it too late now to ever mend things between them? “Please forgive me.”

Was that sniffling real or only dramatic?

Jo surged ahead. “What I said was uncalled for. I have to make my own way in life, and follow my beliefs. I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but I hope someday you’ll be proud of me.”

“I hope so, too.”

Ouch.

Conversation continued stilted. It seemed forever until Jo’s cell phone rang. She thumbed it on. “Rosemary!” She probably hadn’t done a good job of covering her glee when she heard her neighbor’s voice at the other end, but managed not to make eye contact with her mother.

“Ready to go, or do you want a bit longer? I can go for coffee with a friend if you like.”

“Five minutes will be fine.”
And please don’t make me explain that out loud.

Brief silence, during which Mom’s hands waved in Jo’s face.

“Okay then. I’ll be right over.”

Mom clapped her hands and Jo sighed. “Just a sec,” she said into the phone then covered it. “What?”

“That’s your neighbor?” At Jo’s nod, she went on. “The one who is going to Coeur d’Alene in the morning to visit her husband?”

Jo nodded again, trying to squelch the hope that rose in her.

“If she’d be willing to drop me off at the Hampton Inn, it would save Brad six hours of driving. I’ll pay her for her trouble, of course.”

Jo removed her hand from the phone’s microphone. “Rosemary? My mom’s wondering if you’d be willing to give her a lift to the city tomorrow, if you’re still going.”

“Oh, she’s leaving early?”

“Sounds like it.” Hopefully.

“Why don’t I pop up, and we can talk about it? Room 312?”

Jo confirmed and thumbed the call off. Faced her mother.

Mom twisted a curl behind her ear. “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“No, I understand. I’m not the best hostess with this broken arm.” Guilt poked at Jo. That certainly wasn’t the main issue, but it seemed easiest to focus on.

“It may be for the best. It’s such a long drive for Brad.”

There was a rap at the door. Rosemary must have been in the parking lot when she called.

Mom glided over and peered through the viewfinder before she opened up. “Hello again, Rosemary.”

As though they were best friends now. Jo managed not to roll her eyes, instead smiling and waving at Zach’s mother.

“Hi, Denise.”

“Please do come in for a moment.” Her mother backed away, graciousness personified. Then she turned and glared at Jo as though she should jump up and offer the premium seat in the house to company.

Of course it would take five minutes of flailing like a beached whale to get upright with only one usable arm. Either way, she should probably get started on that.

“Jo says you’re looking for a ride to Coeur d’Alene tomorrow?”

Mom nodded. “My husband had planned to come pick me up after his meetings in the morning, but I’d be happy to save him the trouble if it works out.”

To say nothing of getting away from her daughter. Her daughter with the big, tactless mouth.

Rosemary smiled. “You’re right. It’s a long drive, and I’m going anyway. Your company would be welcome.”

Jo stifled a grimace. Rosemary wouldn’t ever say that again, not once she’d experienced it.

“Of course I’ll pay the fuel and get you lunch.”

“We can discuss it in the car.” Rosemary jingled her keys. “I’d planned to leave about seven. Is that okay with you?”

“I’d prefer a little la—”

Floundering out of the deep chair, Jo bumped into Mom with her cast, perhaps a little harder than necessary.

She glanced at Jo and somehow read her face. “I’m sure I can be ready by seven.”

“Well, that’s settled, then. I’ll see you in the morning.” Rosemary peered past her mom at Jo. “You ready?”

Jo couldn’t be more ready, but remembered the manners her grandmother had taught her and gave her mom a brief, awkward hug. “Thanks for coming to visit me, Mom. Keep in touch.” Preferably by email.

Chapter 19

“
Heave
ho!
” Jacob Riehl flipped a straw bale to his dad on the third tier.

Jo watched Sierra’s brother and father. Why couldn’t she be up on the wall, helping to arrange the bales or drive the metal rods through to pin the layers together? Or maybe join Claire and Sierra, who were fitting a wooden frame into the dining room window gap? Yeah, they kept finding little jobs for her to do, but it wasn’t the same.

 
This was not how she’d imagined the building process to go. She’d meant to be the ringleader. Be indispensable. Not an awkward lump of uselessness.

Sierra mopped sweat off her forehead. “Jo, could you get a jug of water?”

“Right on it.” Jo grabbed the two-quart water cooler off a loose bale and headed in to fill it.

When she came back out, Mr. Riehl sat straddling the wall while he waited for Jacob. “Good thing I have more vacation time. This is slower going than I’d thought, but I can stay a few days into next week.”

Yeah, the girls had had higher hopes. Ever optimists, they’d assumed they could will the house into being.

Sierra tossed a half-bale at her brother. “I wish you’d find a job doing something else, Dad.”

Jo sighed. If she’d been the betting sort, she’d have placed good money Sierra wouldn’t be able to resist. How many times had this conversation rerun over the past few years?

Mr. Riehl pushed his baseball cap back on his forehead. “I’m a truck driver, Sierra. I love seeing where the open road takes me. Your mother’s career keeps us in the city, and I can’t handle that day in, day out.”

“You should move out here. Mom could open an optometric clinic in Wynnton.”

He wedged the half bale against the back door framework. “Not going to happen, sweetie. We have our home, our church, our lives in Portland.”

“You know that’s not it, Dad. Just... truck driving. And worst of all, driving for a grocery line. That goes against every cell in my body.”

“A job’s a job, Sierra. If I don’t take it, someone else will. It’s not like they’ll stop hauling oranges from Florida on my say so. I’m just the delivery man, taking the stores what they’ve ordered.”

He had a point, there. The first issue was to get shoppers to stop demanding food from far off places. Oranges from Florida were bad enough, but what about the mangoes and papayas and bananas being shipped way farther?

Sierra picked up the water jug and took a deep drink. “Every voice helps. Every vote counts. You can’t just keep aiding and abetting the system.”

“Sweetie, I know how you feel. I respect what you girls are doing here, but you can’t change the world. All a person can do is what seems best to them at the time. And what seems best to me is to keep putting your little brother through college so he can take care of Mom and me when we’re old and decrepit.”

Jacob flipped another bale up to his dad. “You’re already ancient and half senile. I don’t think I can get educated soon enough to save you from your decline.”

“Hey, now.” Mr. Riehl jammed the bale into place. “You get on up here and pound the rod through, you strong young thing. Save my muscles for taking a round out of you later.”

“Hah, Dad. Nice try.” Jacob clambered up the wall while Mr. Riehl scooted over.

Sierra grinned, shaking her head, and handed the sledge and rod up to her little brother.

Jo tried to squash the jealousy that threatened to rear its ugly face at the easy banter between the Riehl family members. Had she ruined any hope of ever having something similar with her mother? But there had never been a time when this might have been normal for them. Had there?

Rosemary hadn’t told her what she and Jo’s mother had talked about in the three-hour drive last weekend. Jo had only seen Rosemary once since, when she’d come hunting for the escaped Domino, and she’d looked at Jo somewhat speculatively. Jo was pretty sure her mom had filled Rosemary’s ears with what an ingrate Jo was, and how superior Denise was to the likes of Rosemary.

Jo’s mom would probably like Zach. He was nearly ambitious enough to suit her. Jo tried to shove the thought of him out of her head, but that was like trying to keep mice out of their trailer. Even with the poison down below—and Jo cringed at the thought—a few more had still staggered in somehow.
They’d trapped something like twenty-eight before they’d agreed to stop counting. Just a drop in the bucket compared to how many thoughts Jo had of Zach.

A late-model pickup truck turned in the end of the driveway. Jo frowned, not recognizing it as it parked beside the Riehls’ motor home. Mr. Graysen swung out the driver’s door and took in the building site, waving a hammer in salute.

Jo’s heart lifted immediately. She hadn’t seen the church elder since their last meeting about the local harvest meal.

“So this is where the house raising is at! Anything an old codger like me can do to help?”

Bless him.

***

“Dr. Nemesek? You’re wanted on the phone.” Nadine poked her head around the door of Exam Room 2. “I buzzed but you mustn’t have heard.”

Zach looked up from cutting a leg cast off a sedated Labrador retriever. “Who is it? Can I return the call in a few minutes?” Of course, Nadine wouldn’t interrupt if she didn’t think it sounded urgent.

“It’s Gary Waterman. Remember you did the shots on his cows the other day?”

Oh, no.
His stomach plummeted. “Don’t tell me they’re dying.”

She shook her head. “No, he said his are doing better, but wondered if Mr. Leask next door had called you.”

Zach stared at her. Strangely the fact that the Watermans’ cattle had improved wasn’t as much comfort as he’d hoped. “Leask?”
 

Nadine sighed and twisted a long lock of hair behind her ear. “I take that as a no.”

“Why would he?” The feedlot owner had little patience for Zach—or his sick dad—for all they attended the same church.

“Gary said a bunch of Leasks’ cows were coughing yesterday, too. And right now there’s a cattle liner backing into their loading chute.”

So Leask was shipping sick cows, hoping to get his cash before they weakened too much. Zach grimaced but shook his head. “I can’t stop him, you know. If the cattle are able to walk on, the sale is legal.”

“Waterman hoped you could talk some sense into the man.” Nadine tapped a pen against her thigh.

“What would Wally do?” Zach couldn’t believe he was asking. It sounded too much like that whole ‘what would Jesus do’ movement, and he tried hard not to think about that. “I haven’t seen the feedlot in our client database. Are they ours?”

“He’d probably go talk to them, but you’re right. They’re not our clients.” Nadine pushed herself away from the doorframe.

“Wait. I’ll make a couple phone calls. See what I can do.”

Her face lit up. “Need me to finish up here?”

He nodded and headed for the office, where he slumped on the chair and cradled his head in his hands.

It wasn’t so much what Jesus or Wally would do. More like what Josephine Shaw would do. She’d stomp right up to the guy and give him a piece of her mind. Siccing her on Leask was a temptation—so he could be a fly on the wall.