Plum Upside Down (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 5) Read online

  Already? Truly many hands made light work. “Do you need my help?”

  “I’m calling an hour-long break to get them framed.”

  Keanan nodded as Brent strode to the tractor. A moment later Noel cut the engine. The silence seemed louder than the machine.

  “Time for a break,” Brent called out.

  “Coffee and muffins at the house,” Claire announced.

  A cheer went up. The crew climbed down the scaffold.

  Keanan rounded the bin just as Chelsea’s feet hit the ground clad in hiking boots. That beat heels all to bits. She stumbled just a little, and Keanan’s hand snatched forward to steady her.

  “You okay?” He let go the instant she regained her balance, lest she read too much into his touch.

  She tipped her head and looked up at him from those clear blue eyes. “I’m fine. I’m sure I’ll pay for this tomorrow, though.” She patted the corrugated steel beside the door where she’d been working. “I guess we have a few more hours of pounding still to go.”

  Keanan nodded. “Look, you don’t have to…”

  Those eyes narrowed. “You think I’m not capable, just because I’ve never done something like this before?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written all across your face. Pity for the city girl. Or maybe not pity.”

  Definitely not pity. But what, instead? He searched her face as though the answer might be written there.

  “Come on.” Sierra nudged her. “Let’s get off our feet for a bit.”

  Chelsea nodded and linked arms with her sister. Then she glanced back. “Aren’t you taking a break?”

  She’d caught him staring at her feminine curves. He shook his head and jerked his thumb toward the pallet of building materials. “We’re putting in window frames.”

  “Oh.” Chelsea hesitated. “We’ll bring you a snack when we return.”

  Keanan felt a grin break across his face. “Thank you, fair lady. Much appreciated.”

  Chapter 5

  “Now that was a brutal day.” Sierra dropped on the floor in front of where Gabe sat on the love seat. He began to massage her shoulders. “Ahhh.”

  Chelsea leaned against the thick stone wall that served as a thermal mass, storing heat from the fireplace and sun room on the south and the kitchen ovens on the north.

  Noel administered a similar massage to Claire’s shoulders and, across the room, Brent rubbed Allison’s back. Zach and Jo had retreated to their log cabin right after dinner.

  Sure looked cozy in the great room. Chelsea’s own best hope for loosening her muscles was a long soak in her tub. Why hadn’t the duplex’s designers decided jetted tubs would be a necessity for every farm worker? All those couples nearly screamed the reason why. No one had been thinking about single people.

  Chelsea shoved away and pivoted, slamming straight into a body as unmoving as the rock wall.

  “Whoa.” Keanan’s hands came to her arms to steady her.

  Chelsea stepped aside, breaking contact. Just because she craved a massage — okay, maybe the touch of a man who loved her — didn’t mean she welcomed this giant’s hands on her, even for an instant.

  But something in his eyes caught her. He’d seemed to watch her at the building site today, too. Weird. He was so not her type.

  “Thank you, Chelsea. I appreciate your help insulating my home today.”

  “Um, no problem. That’s what was on the day’s agenda. Can’t pretend it’s what I’m used to, though.”

  A smile tilted one side of his face. “I’m certain. The only women for whom that would be a normal day’s work live in Africa and pound their own grain into flour.”

  She pulled her eyebrows together. Did that mean American women were less female than African women? This guy was so hard to understand sometimes. She didn’t even want to.

  Still, the image he’d presented was valid to a point. “Do they do it for six hours straight?”

  Keanan chuckled. “Probably not. But they do it every day. Either way, I’m grateful for the assistance today. I thought I might be working alone in the evenings after the farm work was done. It would have taken weeks.”

  That was honorable. But still. “I guess it’s part of that whole community thing we signed up for. Now it’s done.”

  The workers had taken another break for lunch when the second-story window level had been reached. And later, everyone had cheered when Brent’s machine hoisted the conical roof into place.

  “That part’s done.” Keanan nodded. “It’s satisfying to see my little home take shape.”

  “It’s very small.” Brilliant thing to say, Chelsea. He surely knew the square footage.

  “I’m only one person.” His green eyes pierced hers. “The lower level will have a small kitchen and bath with a sitting area by the wood stove. On the second level, a bedroom. What more do I need?”

  She blinked to get rid of those eyes staring at hers. “Someday you’ll get married and have kids. What then?” Oh, man. Dumb, dumb, dumb. So long as he didn’t get the idea she was volunteering.

  A slow smile creased his face.

  Her words had done nothing to cut eye contact. If anything, his gaze increased in intensity.

  “Then I’ll bring in another bin for a bedroom wing and make a corridor between. Not so hard.”

  Break the mood, Chelsea, break the mood. “Unless you need to send a disobedient child to stand in the corner. You’re rather short on those.”

  This time he laughed out loud. “Good point. I guess we’ll have to see what the future holds. How God leads.”

  Chelsea rubbed her arms, suddenly chilled as exhaustion threatened to topple her. A person couldn’t even have a normal conversation with a guy like Keanan. He was just plain weird.

  She glanced back into the great room with its dimmed lights and the three couples chatting quietly while five-year-old Finnley played with a wooden train set. “Anyway. I’m glad for you. Really. But right now, a hot bath with bubbles is calling my name. See you tomorrow.”

  Keanan looked over her head into the other room. “Ah, yes, everyone else has a personal masseuse. It’s the least I can offer for your help today.” He grasped her shoulders and turned her away from him. “Let me.”

  Chelsea’s knees nearly sagged under his gentle ministrations. Strong, powerful fingers applied the right amount of pressure in just the right places. She could live like this forever.

  No, she couldn’t. What kind of wanton woman was she, accepting a massage from a man she barely knew and frankly didn’t like at all? Still, it took all her resolve to take three steps away and break the contact. “Thanks, that helps.” She smiled back at him. “But I really need to get going.”

  “Good night.”

  His words lingered in her ears as she crossed the yard to her duplex. The sun hung low in the cool evening sky, causing a chill to run through her body. It had nothing to do with remembering Keanan’s hands on her and everything to do with the upcoming bath. She’d start that new novel she’d downloaded, and get her mind off him.

  * * *

  The straw bale house felt empty — vacant — without Chelsea’s presence. That woman was so intense she took up way more space than her small body did. Keanan’s hands tingled with the memory of her sagging against them, accepting his touch for that brief instant.

  He understood her flight. First from all the coupleness in the great room, but also from him. At this moment, he had no desire to face his friends, but what kind of person did that make him, when they’d unselfishly given him an entire day in the midst of a busy time of year?

  Keanan took a few steps into the great room. “Thanks again for all your help.”

  Sierra opened one eye as she sat between Gabe’s feet. “You mentioned that before.”

  “I’m still grateful.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Claire stood and stretched from one side to the other. “Anyone want tea? Hot chocolate?”


  “Coffee?” asked Allison.

  Claire grinned. “Like you need caffeine at this time of day.”

  “Nothing could keep me awake.” She leaned back against Brent as he wrapped his arms around her.

  An astonishing sight, really. Keanan well remembered the prickly person Allison had been a few short months before. Brent had brought out all the best in her.

  Would he ever find someone who completed him as his friends had? But that was saying he wasn’t fulfilled on his own, which wasn’t true. He’d had amazing adventures around the world with more to come. He’d helped drill wells and build solar ovens and worked alongside people while sharing Jesus with them. Not having a wife or children meant he could easily move on when a project was complete and something else called.

  The kettle whistled in the kitchen, and Keanan blinked. He hadn’t even noticed Claire walk past him.

  “Want tea, Keanan?”

  He turned toward her in the kitchen. On the one hand, he should head next door to the home of his hosts, Steve and Rosemary Nemesek. On the other hand… why not twenty more minutes?

  He nodded. “Much appreciated. Let me carry the tray.”

  “You’re one of the good ones, Keanan. One day some lucky girl is going to notice.”

  Why would she say that? Especially on the heels of his own thoughts? But she couldn’t read his mind. “That’s unlikely. My life is complete as it is, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  She grinned, shook her head, and filled the teapot.

  Wisps of fragrant mint soothed his mind. It didn’t matter what she or others thought he needed. That was between him, God, and no one else. Well, possibly it was also a matter for the woman in question. If she existed.

  Did Chelsea embrace her singlehood as he did? She seemed less comfortable with the couples in the great room. Yet he hadn’t gone in and relaxed, either, but planned to retreat until Claire put him on the spot. Had that been subconscious resistance on his part or simply exhaustion? Hard to know.

  He carried the tea-laden tray into the great room while Claire followed with a plate of muffins. Sierra stretched and shifted onto the love seat beside Gabe as Keanan approached with the tray. They helped themselves then he moved around the room. He set the tray on the large round coffee table, helped himself to a cup with a liberal dollop of honey, and dropped into an easy chair.

  The first sip of mellow mint relaxed him just a little. “What’s on tomorrow’s agenda?”

  He’d focused his gaze on Gabe, but Brent spoke. “You and I will get the windows in and the hangers in place for the second-story joists. I also hope to get the floor ready for poured concrete tomorrow.”

  Keanan’s gaze swung to the contractor. “But the farm work—”

  “I’ve got one more full day I can put into your place before Tyrell Burke’s footings will be cured enough to start his timber frame house. I’d really rather push through, if that’s okay with everyone else.” Brent raised both hands. “There’s not much the group can do to help over there. It’s a two-man job.”

  “Go for it, guys.” Noel reached for a second muffin. “That third cut of hay is light enough I should be able to bale it all tomorrow. Looks like rain in a few days, so there will be plenty of inside days to process that half ton of tomatoes on the deck.”

  A thousand pounds was likely not an exaggeration. But this many hardworking adults could go through jars of pasta sauce, barbecue sauce, and ketchup like nobody’s business.

  “When’s Zach planning to butcher that steer?” asked Claire.

  “Weather needs to cool off a bit more for that,” Noel answered. “Probably another month.”

  “We used to can a lot of soup, but it takes so many quarts to feed this crew anymore that it seems a waste of jars and power.”

  “We need a soup freezer.” Sierra nestled against Gabe.

  Claire chuckled. “Not a bad idea. Jo can get more of those square gallon containers from the nursing home kitchen, I bet. What comes in those?”

  “Stewed prunes,” murmured Gabe into Sierra’s hair.

  Everyone laughed.

  “I’ll ask Jo tomorrow. She is still working up there for a few more weeks, I think.”

  Jo was part-time nutritionist at Galena Hills Care Facility, but she’d be leaving permanently before the birth of their second child. Green Acres Farm was operating firmly in the black, thanks to Allison’s ability to fund the new school Brent’s crew had finished building only last week.

  “Do we have another deep freeze available?” asked Keanan.

  “We’ll have to look for one,” Claire said. “The only empty one now will be full of meat after butchering.”

  Keanan drained his cup and rose. “I’d best get over to Steve and Rosemary’s. Steve seems to be in a lot of pain these days. I know he likes to go to bed early, but he usually waits up to ask me about my day.”

  Compassion covered Claire’s face. “I’m sorry to hear about his pain level. He’s been through a lot in the past few years.”

  Brent stood to his feet, pulling Allison up with him. “I should go, too. See you in the morning, darling.” He kissed Allison.

  Keanan turned for the door. Brent and Allison’s would be the second wedding since he arrived at Green Acres. Would he truly remain content if his own never arrived?

  Chapter 6

  Awkward.

  Chelsea watched Keanan fold his large frame into the passenger seat of her car. The guy’s head brushed the ceiling, and his knees angled upward as he fumbled with the seat adjustments. Even lowering the seat and pushing it all the way back didn’t fully relieve the cramped look.

  What was the guy, six foot four? She’d offered him a ride because, hello, she had a car and he didn’t.

  Keanan snapped his seat belt and glanced over. “Ready.”

  She’d been staring. She pushed the electronic start button and the diesel engine purred to life. Would he compliment her car? So much nicer than his bicycle. What guy wouldn’t want to own a car like this? Or maybe a truck. He’d fit better in a truck.

  Chelsea turned the car toward town. Wasn’t he going to talk? She shot a sideways glance. Keanan’s eyes were shut and his lips moving ever so slightly. Afraid of her driving?

  Her lips curved upward. Couldn’t be that bad.

  His large hands lay on his thighs, palms up.

  Oh, man, he was praying. Didn’t look like he was panicked about her skill — good thing, as she wasn’t driving like an idiot at all. He must be praying about Alpha. It sounded like he’d be a teacher.

  What did you say to a guy who was praying? Um, maybe nothing. It couldn’t take much more than five minutes to get to the church. She could handle his silence that long.

  Chelsea followed the curves past Elmer’s place, eyes on the road.

  “Thank you, Chelsea.”

  She nearly swerved off. “For what, the ride?” She waited a second. No looking at him. “No biggie.”

  He chuckled. “I do appreciate the lift, but it’s not what I meant. More for seeing a need in the church and stepping forward to fill it.”

  The church elder hadn’t made it that easy to say no. “Galena Gospel Church is my new spiritual home.” She lifted her shoulder slightly. “I like people and being involved in things.”

  She slid a glance across the small car. Keanan was watching her. Heat rose in her cheeks. That was dumb. She didn’t care what he thought. Him, of all people.

  “That’s good to know. People around the world need Jesus, whether they are in Idaho or in Africa.”

  “You’ve been to Africa?”

  Chelsea caught his nod in her periphery.

  “I spent a while there providing solar ovens to refugee camps. Another time my team went from village to village drilling wells and telling the people about the living water to be found in Jesus.”

  “Wow. That sounds interesting.” A few pieces of the puzzle in Chelsea’s mind clicked together. Keanan Welsh was for real. He might
look like an overgrown hippie, but he lived out his faith.

  “There’s so much need. Everywhere.”

  Chelsea slowed to cross the bridge into Galena Landing. “Then how did you end up here?”

  “That’s a long story.”

  “Well, I’d like to hear it sometime.” That was even true. She bit her lip. “I’ve never done anything half as interesting as you have.”

  “God leads us all in different paths. I responded to the Spirit’s nudging to help when I saw the need. My eyes have been opened in so many ways. We are so blessed.”

  Did she feel blessed? Of course. She’d grown up in privilege, all her needs fulfilled and most of her wants. Wasn’t that blessing? But beyond an occasional missionary presentation in her Portland church, she’d never really thought about needs elsewhere. Certainly never felt a call to cross the world and dig a well. Had God ever tried to elbow her and get her attention? If so, she hadn’t noticed.

  She parked near the church kitchen’s side door. Only two other cars in the lot. “I thought there’d be more people.”

  “The leadership team arrives early to prepare, and the guests will come a bit later.” He reached for his seatbelt release just as she did.

  His hand was warm, his fingertips rough where they brushed against hers. A man with a heart to match the size of his hands. No denying Keanan was a little strange, but had she misjudged him completely?

  * * *

  “This smells awesome,” Chelsea said to Rosemary Nemesek. “Thank you for getting this first meal ready.”

  Zach’s mom, Rosemary, and an elderly woman called Mona had been thick in the finishing touches of slicing roast beef when they’d arrived. Chelsea pitched in, heating vegetables and pouring them into serving bowls, slicing rolls and arranging them on platters, and filling pitchers with ice water.

  Wow, there had to be thirty people milling around outside the church kitchen, some chatting with each other and some observing. Keanan’s red hair popped above everyone else’s. She watched him weave through the group and approach a young man who looked like he might bolt at any second.