Page 13 of The Payback Adventure
“Of course I did. I’m not in the habit of hiring people this way, but I know enough to check references,” Elisabeth admitted. “Manny, my foreman, usually takes care of it. But his mother is ill, and he needs to be with her. That’s why I needed help. The kids and I can’t do it ourselves.”
“How old are the kids?”
“Sam’s eleven, Abigail’s eight, and Caitlin’s told you she’s four. They’re good kids most of the time. Okay, some of the time. They have their moments. Will you be able to handle that?”
“Yes.”
He wet his lips, and she had to force her gaze away from them. Strange. She wasn’t in the habit of staring at men’s mouths.
“What about your parents?” he asked.
Sadness washed over her. No one had asked about them in so long. Everyone in Berry Patch knew what had happened, but no one wanted to bring it up. No one except the state caseworker who checked in on her siblings.
“They’re gone.” Elisabeth met his inquisitive gaze. Shedidn’t want to talk about them. “Your references gave glowing recommendations. One person, Brett Matthews, seemed surprised by your…situation.” That was putting it mildly, but she didn’t want to hurt Henry’s feelings. “I hope I didn’t cause any problems for you.”
“You didn’t. Brett is a financial adviser,” Henry said. “He must have assumed I was following his advice.”
That made sense. But Brett had recommended Henry for the job, saying he was loyal with a heart of gold and would be a helpful employee. He added Henry was good with children and babysat Brett’s daughter and another friend’s newborn son. That, in addition to the money from Cynthia Sterling, had sealed the deal in Elisabeth’s mind.
Geese flew overhead. One more sign autumn had arrived, and it was time to prepare for winter. Good thing she’d found help.
“Tell me about your farm,” Henry said.
“I’m the fifth generation of Wheelers to farm this land. We have over a hundred acres of the most fertile land in the Willamette Valley. Some of the original homestead was sold off during the Depression.”
She had a love-hate relationship with the land, but pride filled her voice. She hadn’t succeeded, but she hadn’t failed, either. Growing up, this might not have been her dream, but it was her life now. One she wasn’t about to let go. No matter how difficult things got, she would make sure the farm thrived for her sisters and brother. They would always have a home to return to when they got older.
“Thirty acres are row crops—beans and corn. The othersare berries—raspberries, marionberries, boysenberries, and evergreen blackberries. We have a small vegetable and herb garden and a handful of livestock. A horse, a cow, a few goats, and some chickens.”
“As I told Sam, I’ve never worked on a farm before.”
He sounded sincere and honest. Maybe this would work out. Elisabeth hoped so.
“Cynthia explained that to me, but I’ll show you what to do. And I’ll be here to answer any questions. That is, when I’m not working at the restaurant.”
“Sounds like you keep busy.”
“I do.”
“What do you do for fun?”
Fun? That word hadn’t been part of her vocabulary for years. Yet with Henry standing right next to her, wearing a devastating grin on his face, she could imagine having fun with him. A lot of fun. The thought made her wish he wasn’t going to be living here for the next month. “I—”
The bang of the screen door interrupted her. Sam stood on the porch, scowling. “Caitlin’s on the pot and needs you.”
“Be right there.” Relieved by the interruption, Elisabeth brushed a strand of hair off her face. “That’s my cue to go inside.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Standing on the porch with the duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Henry steeled himself for what lay on the other side of the torn screen door. He wasn’t expecting the Ritz-Carlton, but he didn’t relish the thought of living in a dive for the next month. On rare occasions, he’d stayed in four-star hotels, but he didn’t like roughing it. He hoped for clean and comfortable. Perhaps it would have the rustic charm of a lodge, like some of the places in Hood Hamlet.
As Elisabeth opened the door, the hinges squeaked. Forest-green paint peeled away, revealing various layers of blue, yellow, and orange. “My great-grandfather built this house.”
Henry respected being surrounded by so much history and family. His own grandfather had left him a legacy. Instead of a farm, though, Henry had received a multimillion-dollartrust fund that Brett had turned into billions, and Blaise added more billions on top of that. Henry was happy old Gramps had been a businessman and not a farmer. Without his money, Henry couldn’t imagine what he would do every day. He’d never had a job. Well, until today.
“It was a wedding present for my great-grandmother,” she added.
“How romantic.”
