Team Bride (11 page)

Corbin met the woman’s gaze. She was a pretty redhead nearly as tall as him, her eyes a warm green and flickering with interest. His nose twitched. A lot of perfume there. He tried to back up a step, but Lucy was in the way. “I use them when I can instead of the tractor. They’re not suited to every task.”

“I’m Steph Mabry. I heard you inherited this place from your grandfather, and I’m thrilled to have a chance to meet you.”

“Uh, likewise. Corbin Morrissey.”

Steph rested a manicured hand on his sleeve. “I know you’re busy right now.” She winked. “But I’d love to get together for coffee sometime. I sure do appreciate country living.”

Words failed him.

“When my son brought the paper home about this field trip, I knew I had to take the day off from the bank and come along as a chaperone. It’s hard being a single parent. Little boys need to be outdoors with lots of room to run around, and I just don’t have access to that sort of thing in the apartment.”

Corbin snapped his mouth shut and scratched the back of his neck. “I, uh. I’m sure.” Was she seriously coming on to him? She’d practically proposed. What on Earth must Sarah think? He peered past Steph. Sarah’s brown eyes snapped dangerously from only a meter or two away, a row of restless children behind her.

“Excuse me,” he said to Steph. “Duty calls.”

She stepped aside and pointed out a curly redhead right behind Sarah. “That’s my son, Reggie. Such a sweet boy.”

“Great. Would you like to see the children settled on the wagon, Ms. Mabry? That would be a big help.”

She smiled at him, head tipped to one side. “I’d love to. But do call me Steph.” She waited a moment as though he would correct himself on the spot, but he made a show of looking past her. His nose stopped twitching from the scent overload as she moved out of his periphery.

“Right over here,” he heard Heath say.

Good. Heath needed a woman in his life. Corbin already had one. He met Sarah’s flashing eyes. Okay, he’d had one and lost her, but he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

He fingered the halter. “This is Lucy, and that’s Danny beside her. Lucy likes it if you touch her nose gently.” Corbin beckoned to the redhead. “Reggie? Would you like to pet Lucy?”

The little guy nodded eagerly and stepped forward. “This is a big horse.” Awe tinged his words as he reached up to pet Lucy. His eyes grew round. “It’s soft.”

Corbin grinned at the boy. “You’re right.” The kid couldn’t be held accountable for his mother’s actions. “Now go around to this side and climb up on the wagon, okay?”

He turned back to the line to see Sarah’s clenched jaw. She motioned another child forward, and Corbin kept them moving around to the wagon after greeting the horses until only Sarah was left. “Want to pet the horse?”

She glared at him. “No, thank you.” She followed the last student around to the crate Heath had set up for the children to climb onto the wagon.

Corbin shrugged, not that Sarah was looking, and met Heath’s gaze. Heath’s eyebrows twitched before Corbin swung himself onto the high seat at the front. He glanced back. “Everyone ready?”

A chorus of
yes
met his ears, and he flicked the reins over the horses’ backs. “Move on, Lucy. Move on, Danny.”

* * *

Reggie’s mother leaned close to Sarah as the group watched the chickens scratching in their outdoor run. “I’m so glad I came today.”

Sarah had never had this much trouble being gracious to one of her pupil’s parents. “We needed the chaperones.” Though Steph Mabry herself seemed to need one. Maybe Corbin did, too. He’d looked uncomfortable the first time, but seemed to have warmed up to Steph over the course of the last hour or so.

“A friend of mine from work who lives out this way has met Corbin a few times. She told me he was single, hot, and oh, so eligible.” Steph sighed. “Wow. She was right. Isn’t he a dream?”

Did Sarah seriously need to be part of this conversation? “Excuse me. I need to see to the students.” She hurried around the chicken pen and crouched down between two children. As though they needed her at the moment.

Grr. That Steph Mabry, digging her claws into Corbin. The woman wasn’t the least bit subtle. Was that how it was done these days? Maybe Corbin liked that sort of thing. He was rather forward himself. All that flirting he’d done at Lindsey and Nick’s wedding.

Give him another chance, Sarah.
That’s what Lindsey had said to her just yesterday at Carmen’s Cupcakes and Confectionary.
You can’t hold what he did when he was five years old against him forever.

Sure she could. Because he was still the same guy. Still playing to an audience. Still bringing up all those horrid memories of the day her parents split up. She could tell herself he wasn’t responsible. Of course he wasn’t. But deep inside, separating the two eluded her.

She all but snorted. Interest indeed. Ever since they’d climbed on the hayride, he’d completely ignored her. She wanted that, right? To close the door on what had been turning into a promising relationship and move on. Of course that’s what she wanted. It’s what she’d told him. It was the only way to stay safe. To be secure.

But did he have to start flirting with another woman so soon, right under her nose? Obviously Sarah meant little to him after all. If she were feeling charitable, she’d warn Reggie’s mother, but hey, the woman was bringing it on herself, hovering beside Corbin every minute she could while Corbin turned smiles in her direction. Encouraging the hussy.

Sarah trailed behind the group as they made their way to the pole shed where several machines sat beside a huge bin of apples. At the front, Steph Mabry chatted away with Corbin, laughing gaily.

Corbin gathered the children around him. “Welcome to the apple orchard part of Morrissey Farm. We are going to make juice today, and everyone can taste some and then take a liter home. Have any of you ever made apple juice before?”

Several students’ hands shot up, including some unlikely contenders.

“We picked the fruit a few days ago. This is an organic orchard, so we’re not too worried about pesticides and stuff on the skins.” He began to fill a wooden box with apples while he talked. “But still, there are birds and bugs around, so it’s a good idea to wash the fruit.” He picked up a hose and pointed the nozzle at the apples until water streamed out between the slats.

“Next, we have to turn all these apples into pulp. That’s what this machine is for. It’s pretty noisy when it’s turned on. We’ll put a few apples at a time into this metal part, and puree will come out the bottom. Any questions about it so far?”

Reggie’s hand shot up. “What is puree?”

“It’s like applesauce that hasn’t been cooked. You’ll see when we do it.”

Reggie nodded, and his mom beamed at the child as though he were a prodigy.

Easy, Sarah. Reggie’s a good boy. Don’t vent on him.

“The pulp will be brought to this machine—” Corbin moved over a couple of meters “—and folded into cloth in layers. Then we use a small hydraulic jack to apply a lot of pressure to it. The juice is squeezed out and runs down into a bucket. We’ll keep emptying the bucket into that stainless steel barrel. And that’s all there is to it. It’s pretty easy, but it takes some time.”

“Does the apple juice taste good?” asked a little girl.

“It sure does,” Corbin said seriously. “You’ll find out in just a few minutes. Okay, I need some volunteers. I think your teacher told you to wear old clothes today, right? So if you want to help, you’ll need to roll up your sleeves if they’re long. I’m going to take care of this part with the noisy motor, and Mr. Collins there will take care of the press. Your teachers and parents will make sure everyone who wants to gets a turn, okay?”

“I can help you.” Steph Mabry smiled at Corbin as though he were a famous movie star.

“Thanks. Miss Jamieson could use a hand organizing the children into groups.”

Ha. No special treatment. Take that.

Students took turns putting apples into the wooden boxes and spraying water into them. They took turns dropping whole apples into the grinder and oohing over the puree it created. They took turns dragging buckets of pulp to the press, using dippers to lift the mash onto the cloths, smoothing them out, folding the cloths, and adding slatted boards between the layers. They took turns moving the handle of the small jack to increase pressure as juice bubbled out of the cloths and gushed into the bucket below.

Sarah carried a pail from the press to the barrel. Several wasps circled her head. She flinched away from them as she dumped the juice. There sure seemed to be a lot of the pests.

She glanced around. Several of the children flailed at the buzzing insects.

“I hope no one is allergic to stings.” Corbin’s voice sounded conversational. “Fresh, sweet juice attracts wasps. Swatting at them makes them angry and more likely to sting you, so it’s best to stay calm and ignore them if you can. If you’re allergic, go out of the work area, and they’ll probably leave you alone.”

Steph backed out of the shelter. “Reggie, come over here.”

“But I didn’t get a chance to help with the jack yet, Mama.”

“I don’t want you to get stung, baby.”

Sarah managed not to roll her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to get stung, either, but some parents didn’t know how to keep their kids active in their peer group.

Reggie glared at his mom and turned back to his current job of ladling puree onto a cloth in the press. Steph’s hands clenched, but she didn’t argue.

“Do you know the difference between wasps and bees?” asked Corbin. “Bees pollinate plants and make honey, and they don’t sting people who aren’t bothering them. They’re fat and round and busy all the time. Wasps are skinny and mean. They’re happy to sting people for no reason at all.”

Reggie screamed and dropped the dipper, splattering apple puree across the cement. He bolted out of the work area. “Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Chapter 13

Corbin flicked the switch to turn off the grinder. The sudden silence made Reggie’s screams that much sharper. His gut plummeted. Getting stung was always a possibility, but plenty of juicing days went by without that complication.

Steph caught up to Reggie. “Baby, are you okay? Let Mama see.”

Should he go over there, too? He stood, uncertain, as other children flinched and flapped at the air, backing out of the shelter. Another of the women went to Steph and her son.

Sarah stepped forward. “Over here, children. I’m sure Reggie will be fine. His mom is taking care of him, and Miss Thompson knows how to help his sting.”

Right. The other teacher. Corbin dared to breathe as Sarah’s composure settled him as well as the kids gathering around her.

“Who wants to keep helping Mr. Morrissey and Mr. Collins make juice?”

A few hands went up.

She nodded. “Okay, you may help. The rest of you, let’s wash your hands from the hose to get the sticky off so the wasps won’t be as interested in you. Then we’ll sit down on the grass over there and talk about what we’ve learned today. Soon we’ll get our picnic lunches from the bus and have fresh apple juice to drink while we eat.”

Reggie’s cries continued unabated while the other children lined up at the hose. Corbin couldn’t take it any longer. Of course, it wasn’t his fault the boy had gotten stung, but he was the host. He strode over to where Miss Thompson squatted in front of the boy, peering at his hand.

“Oh, Corbin!” Steph flung herself against him. “My baby.”

Whoa. The twitch in his nose exploded into several sneezes as he tried to remove Steph’s arms from around him and get away from her perfume. And from her. Easier said than done. He sneezed again. “Excuse me.”

“You poor thing. Are you allergic to wasps, too?”

He managed to get her at arms’ length. It took both hands to keep her there, so he could only turn aside for the next sneeze, not cover his nose. “Sorry. Not wasps.”

Her pretty face tilted to one side as her green eyes widened. “Then what? Miss Thompson, doesn’t that sound like he’s having an allergic reaction?”

“Perfume,” he managed to get out. “It’s your perfume.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Steph’s hand covered her mouth.

As though that would help.

Miss Thompson glanced up. “Do you have any antihistamines for children, Mr. Morrissey? Reggie’s finger is quite swollen.”

“Uh, no. Just for adults.” How would it be possible for him to feel even worse than he did now? At least Steph’s hands had fallen to her sides and she no longer clung to him. She’d even turned back to her son.

“Oh, Reggie. Mama is so sorry. I should never have brought you out here to this farm where there are wild bees to hurt you.” She shot a glare at Corbin.

“It was a wasp, ma’am, not a bee.”

She fluttered her hand as though it made no difference. “I need to take my boy to the doctor. What if he d-dies? Where’s the bus driver?”

Miss Thompson patted Reggie’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine.”

“But how do you know? Look how red and puffy it is.” She tugged Reggie to her side. “Poor baby.”

Miss Thompson glanced at Corbin. “Reactions like he’s having are normal. The dangerous kind closes a person’s windpipe so they can’t breathe. We’d know by now if that’s what he had. He’s breathing just fine.”

“But you said... antihistamine...”

“That will help with the swelling and the itching, for sure, but there’s no panic to get to it. You might want to stop by the pharmacy and pick some up when you get back to town if you don’t have any at home.” She ruffled Reggie’s curls. “But he’s fine. Really.”

“If you’re sure...”

“Very sure.”

The relief swept through Corbin even as Steph glanced between them, seemingly unconvinced. He nodded. “That’s my understanding, as well. Someone whose allergies are life-threatening would already be in extreme distress.” Or worse. It had been at least five minutes since the child had been stung.

Reggie peered past Miss Thompson to see the other children grouped on the grass around Sarah. “I’m okay, Mama. It’s just my finger hurts. Can I go back to my class?”

“Sure you can.” Miss Thompson took his other hand and led him away.