Dandelions for Dinner (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 4) Page 2

  Not that anyone glanced back and saw her on the deck glowering at them, fists planted firmly on her hips. Grr. She gathered her long hair in both hands and flipped it over her shoulder. Shaking her head, she marched back into the house.

  “Short day’s work.” Claire Kenzie, one of the other women who lived at the farm, stood beside the window, looking out.

  “Very.” Allison flounced back to her chair and tapped the keyboard to revive the laptop.

  “Want a coffee?” Claire walked past the table and into the kitchen. The caffeinated aroma filled the place as the pot beeped.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  At the peninsula dividing the kitchen from the dining room, Claire poured some into a mug then frowned. “I don’t even know how you like it.”

  “Just black, thanks.”

  Claire grinned. “That would help explain how you stay so thin.”

  Did that require an answer? Allison hoped not. She glared at the screen, feigning preoccupation.

  Claire set the mug near Allison’s elbow then dropped into another chair, cradling her own cup.

  Now they were supposed to visit? This was why Allison needed her own office. She needed to wedge a TV tray or something into that bedroom at Sierra’s. Four pink walls hemming her in. She shuddered at the thought.

  “They still figuring on having the classrooms ready to move into by summer?”

  “No. The factory they ordered the windows from burned down, so they’re doing some juggling.”

  “Oh, no! I hope no one was injured.”

  Allison grimaced as a pang of guilt stabbed. “I didn’t think to ask.”

  “So what’s the revised plan?”

  “They don’t have a new timeline yet. Obviously, they can’t put the windows in until they arrive, or finish the floors or anything as long as rain can drive in. And siding comes afterward, too.”

  Claire lifted her mug for a long sip.

  Allison ignored the fact that the other woman watched her.

  “When did you find out?”

  “A few days ago.”

  Claire leaned closer. “When did you plan to tell us? Remember, you’re part of a team now. Didn’t you think about how this affects everyone on the farm?”

  Drat. The woman was right. Allison was so used to sailing solo she kept forgetting that she’d signed on as a team member. What had she been thinking?

  She’d been thinking she had enough money now to make her dream come true if she didn’t have to buy land as well. She’d been thinking it would be nice to have people around who cared… at least when she wanted them to.

  Time to screw her head on at a new angle. A team. This was crazy stuff. She did need them. They did have a right to know.

  Allison leaned back in her chair and met Claire’s gaze. “Sorry. I keep forgetting. My life hasn’t been full of dependable people before. Or anyone with a vested interest.”

  “I bought a big white board the other day and just need Noel to put it up.” Claire grimaced. “It’s all a bit more complicated on the straw bale walls than it is on regular old drywall. Anyway, it’s for messages the whole team needs to know between official meetings. Your news would be a good candidate for that board.”

  Allison nodded. “How often are there official meetings?”

  “Not often enough.” Claire laughed. “Until now, we’ve been a group who knew each other for years, so we mostly decided things on the fly.”

  Right. But now they had a newbie in their midst. Someone who was not their best friend. Someone who didn’t automatically tell everyone everything. Awkward.

  “And the guys, of course.” Claire lifted her mug for another sip. “But we didn’t count on them from the beginning.”

  “That’s a lot of what appealed to me,” Allison admitted. “Sierra’s sister told me about you all and your decision to forge ahead with this farm and your dreams regardless of marital status.”

  Claire chuckled. “Our Mr. Rights didn’t bother showing up in college or soon after. A woman can’t just put her entire life on hold waiting for him, you know? At some point you have to ask God what He wants of your life and step forward in faith.”

  Allison tucked her hair behind her ears. “That’s been my attitude my whole life. Watching my parents live two separate lives under one roof made me realize marriage wasn’t that great.” To say nothing of the mess the situation had made for her and her sister. “I’m glad for you girls, honestly, but I hope you’ve made plans in case you find out your men are cheating on you. You could stand to lose everything you’ve worked for.”

  Claire shook her head. “That’s God’s problem, not mine. I didn’t enter into marriage with Noel half-heartedly, expecting it to go foul.”

  Allison shrugged. In her experience — admittedly from observation, not personal — it was a matter of when, not if. If Claire, Jo, and Sierra had found exceptions, good for them. She wouldn’t bank on there being any left for her.

  “So, what are you working on today?”

  Whew. Nice topic change. “Trying to decide if I should send refunds to the students who’ve pre-paid or if there’s any way to salvage this summer’s courses.”

  Claire’s coffee cup clunked to the table. “Excuse me, but how is that your decision to make? Remember what I just said about being part of a team? We didn’t give you carte blanche to run the classes any way you like.”

  Allison surged to her feet. “Sorry. Not used to thinking like this.” Did she even want to? “Maybe I should be thankful the contractors are delayed. Maybe I should forget the whole thing and cancel my agreement with them.” Yeah, she’d lose her deposit, but what did it matter if her whole dream came crashing down? Besides, then Brent Callahan wouldn’t have the power to irritate her so much.

  “Don’t over-react. Allison, please. Of course we want you here. We all prayed about the decision in the fall after we first met. We’re excited about the new possibilities your presence opens up for the entire farm, and for everyone who lives here.”

  Allison flung her arms out. “It’s all so foreign. I don’t even know how to work like this. I need an office with walls and a door. I need to make decisions and own them. I need to stand on my own two feet, not constantly wonder what other people think.” She parked both hands on the edge of the table and leaned across it toward Claire. “I don’t know how to do this teamwork thing.”

  Was that sympathy oozing out of Claire’s eyes?

  Great. Just what she didn’t need was someone feeling sorry for her about it all. Her life was what it was. No one else could possibly understand how her personality had been shaped. Nor could it be undone because someone said it should.

  “Did you pray about coming here, Allison?”

  What kind of question was that? “Of course I did.”

  “And I’m assuming you felt it was the right direction, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Allison set her jaw. “Yes.”

  “Then we take the issues one at a time and work through them together.” Claire shrugged and drank half her coffee. “We discuss things, we pray about them, and we make decisions together.”

  “Just like that?”

  Claire pulled to her feet. “Yep. Just like that.” She grinned, drained her coffee cup, and headed for the kitchen. “I’m thinking soup and biscuits for lunch. You okay with it?”

  Allison blinked. Claire had really moved on? Okay then. “Sounds great.”

  Claire smiled at Allison across the peninsula. “And we’ll have a board meeting tonight after Jo and Zach tuck Maddie in bed. We’ll get things figured out. Together.”

  * * *

  Brent drove south on Highway 95. Whatever the speed limit was, he didn’t care at the moment.

  “How did the driver make such a stupid mistake?” he asked into his Bluetooth headset.

  “He saw Thomas Road just north of Wynnton and thought he’d misunderstood,” answered Patrick.

  “And he couldn’t just turn the rig around when he figu
red out he was in the wrong place?”

  His uncle sighed. “He’s a rookie driver, a young guy who’s not from the Panhandle. He didn’t figure it out real quick.”

  “So he got stuck driving a wide load onto a narrow bridge. Good job, dude.”

  “Brent, take it easy on the kid when you get there. He’s already pretty shaken.”

  “Thomas Road. There it is. East, I take it?”

  “Yes.”

  Brent slammed on the brakes and snapped on his turn signal. Good thing no one was right behind him. As it was, he barely got slowed enough to make the turn in time. “How far from the highway did you say?”

  “He’s about eighteen miles up, but you’ll run out of cell signal long before then. Give the kid a break, Brent. Remember what it’s like to be green.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try. Talk to you when I’m back in range.” Brent tapped the button to disconnect the call.

  Just the fact that nothing riled Patrick irritated Brent even more. Surely somebody had to get upset over itty-bitty problems like entire window-manufacturing plants burning down and semi trucks carrying the first load of timbers for the Hart job getting stuck on a bridge fifty miles from its destination.

  He dragged in a deep breath. It was only a bunch of squared timbers. Inanimate objects. In neither incident had any human been hurt or killed. This was good, and he should dwell on it. Instead, all he could see in his mind’s eye was Allison Hart’s stiff posture and unyielding face when he told her where her beams were.

  Why had he wanted to become a foreman again? Why had his uncle handed over the reins on one of the bigger jobs for the season? Today he’d gladly be one of the crew, just doing what he was told. Being in charge wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Enough. If he wasn’t going to blow up at the poor rookie when he got to the bridge, he needed to calm down. This wasn’t the attitude of Christ Jesus he wanted to emulate.

  Patrick had told him the true test of greatness was not the heights of the glorious things he accomplished but the depths of the service he provided in humility.

  Brent sighed and let the truck’s Bluetooth pull worship music from his cell phone out through the speakers. Belting out with Matt Redman settled his heart and mind until he careened around a curve on the mountain road and came face-to-face with the blocked bridge.

  Whatever the greenhorn had told Patrick hadn’t taken the entire situation into account. It was going to take a crane to get this truck out of here.

  Allison Hart was not going to be amused.

  Chapter 3

  Allison shoved the sleeves of her Oregon Ducks sweatshirt up her arms. Finally a day where the sun had a little warmth to it, feeble as it might be. A good day to rake last year’s fallen leaves beside Thompson Road.

  Nine-fifteen on Wednesday morning. How come she hadn’t seen a single sign of Brent Callahan since Friday? He’d quoted her full business hours. With the qualifier this would be “once they got going.”

  Apparently they weren’t going yet.

  But they should be. She might not know a lot about putting up timber frame buildings, but it stood to reason the school needed walls and a roof before it needed windows. How come nobody was here erecting them?

  Patience. Man, she knew it was a weak point.

  Allison pressed the volume button a few more times on the side of her iPhone. Maybe listening to a sustainable living podcast would help her get over her annoyance. She really didn’t want to live grumpy all the time, but the cozy togetherness at Green Acres Farm totally encroached on her personal space.

  The leaves had partially decomposed, compressed by the snow plowed off the road. A few low banks of tired gray snow lingered beside the gravel. She gave a tentative kick at one. Ouch. Harder than she’d have thought. She might need to get out her steel-toed boots if she kept that up.

  She sensed vehicles approaching more than she heard them and looked up. A white pickup — hopefully Brent’s — was followed by a semi loaded with squared logs.

  Finally. She leaned the rake against the nearest elm and gave the trucks her complete attention.

  The Timber Framing Plus pickup careened into the driveway while the larger truck took the turn much slower.

  Allison narrowed her gaze. The tarp covering the load was ripped, and some of the visible timbers had long scratches running down the lengths of them. Others had deep gouges in places that didn’t look like the carefully hewn ends that would fit together like puzzle pieces.

  Had she made a mistake hiring TFP? It sure looked like it.

  A third truck, this one with an attached crane, pulled in behind the log load.

  She strode across the matted lawn toward Brent, who was just swinging out of his truck. “What happened to those timbers?”

  He turned and waved at her before heading to the semi driver, setting his hard hat in place.

  Okay, maybe the trucks’ engines were too loud for him to have heard her words. He’d hear her soon enough.

  The crane truck shifted into reverse, beeping.

  Allison stopped to gauge where the driver was going so she could stay out of the way. Surely he was going to park by the gravel pad that’d been flattened in front of the building site. Someday it would be a parking area for the school.

  The finished building, bustling with students, teachers, and guests, reared in her mind like the pop-up book she’d given Finnley last time she’d seen him. She had to keep the final goal in mind. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to antagonize the foreman too much. She’d have to keep a close eye. Push him just the right amount, but not so far he balked.

  Managing men was not her strong suit.

  Allison stood to the side, watching as the crane edged into place then as the semi pulled in beside it. One of the guys scrambled up to unfasten the tarp.

  “Impressive.”

  She lurched. Who’d snuck up on her?

  Claire’s husband Noel stood beside her. He grinned at her then jerked his chin toward the action. “Good-size beams on that truck. Douglas fir?”

  “Um, yeah. But it looks like there’s damage to some of them.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure the company has everything accounted for. Who’s the foreman?”

  “The guy doing all the pointing. I’ll introduce you when he’s free.” Just before she ripped Brent’s head off. Oh, right, she was going to be nice to him if it killed her. It might.

  Brent nodded and stepped away as the boom lowered for the first log. Two guys scrambled up the truck to attach the straps while Brent came around toward Allison and Noel.

  She held her peace. It was one thing to holler at Brent. He was her employee and would be gone in a few months, though it would take much longer than she’d hoped. But not in front of Noel, a man who would live on the same farm as her for both of their natural lives. Or until Noel got tired of his wife and the farm and amused himself elsewhere like all men did.

  Brent stuck out his hand toward Noel. “Mr. Hart?” A big smile crossed his face.

  Nice try, buster. “Brent, this is Noel Kenzie, one of the other owners of Green Acres Farm. Noel, meet Brent Callahan from Timber Framing Plus. He’s the foreman in charge of the build.” Somehow she managed to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  Brent clasped Noel’s hand. “Sorry, man. I just assumed.”

  Lesson number one. Never assume anything.

  Noel laughed. “No problem. I’ve been happily married to Claire for over three years, and we live in the straw bale house over there.” He motioned toward the house, hidden behind the trucks. “Zach and Jo Nemesek live on the farm, too, in a log cabin just up the hillside. And there’s another couple here who will be married later this summer.”

  “Ah, I didn’t realize it was such a big operation. One big happy family?”

  If he only knew.

  “No one’s actually related.” Noel grinned. “Well, Zach’s related to his daughter, I guess, and his parents live next door.”

&nb
sp; “Interesting.” Brent turned back to watch the first log being lowered to skids on the ground.

  Allison couldn’t hold it back any longer. “What happened to those logs, Brent?”

  He grimaced and shook his head. “The driver took a wrong turn and got the truck wedged on a curving bridge on a back road out of Wynnton. Took a bit to get him and the load headed the right direction again.”

  “So the beams are damaged.”

  Brent met her gaze, his brown eyes unwavering. “Some seem to be. We’ll be examining each one as it gets unloaded to see if it’s still suitable for the job it was designed to do.”

  Had he heard her? “But they’re gouged.”

  He tipped his head. “Yes, ma’am. A few are, but in most cases it is superficial. Don’t worry about structural integrity. Each will be inspected with that in mind, as well as visibility. We’ll order replacements as required.”

  And they’d take how long to get here?

  “Adds a little character,” Noel said with a nod.

  He must be kidding. Allison looked at Noel, who shrugged. When she turned back to Brent, he was striding back to the lone timber on the ground.

  Could she trust Brent Callahan’s judgment?

  * * *

  He was aware of Allison’s gaze on his back the entire time it took the crew to unload the truck. While he and Curtis set aside the three beams that had taken the brunt of the damage. While the other guys all jawed.

  By then the audience had gotten bigger. Two women, including a very short one with a toddler firmly in her grasp, joined Allison and Noel. The other tucked her hand into Noel’s and they shared a kiss.

  Okay, so Brent hadn’t kept his back turned the whole time, but he’d done his best to ignore the gathering. If he were going to have to work every single day with extra eyes on him, he’d go bananas. And, what, tell his uncle he wasn’t up for the job?

  Man, he’d worked for this level of trust for years. He wasn’t going to let any skinny dictator run him off. That Noel guy seemed nice enough. Hopefully no one else at the farm was as whacko as Allison Hart.