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“In lieu of payment, our orchard provides pumpkins for Troy’s kids and apples for Drea’s pie. Who knew we had such a veritable capacity for trade right in our backyard?”
“We really should take the time to pick the fruit and not let it go to waste.”
“Let’s change clothes and do that.”
“Right now?”
“Why not? You aren’t going to solve anything tonight. And Jade comes out of the hospital in a few hours.”
“Something tells me Jade won’t be needing the guest cottage tonight,” Lucien joked.
“Not the way Birk reacted when he heard the news.”
Kelly and Beckett overheard that last part as they strolled into the backyard.
“She won’t,” Kelly verified. “We were there when Birk walked into Jade’s hospital room an hour ago. He was carrying the biggest bouquet of roses I’d ever seen. And when he apologized, Jade went all blubbery and mushy.”
“Must’ve been the drugs,” Brogan speculated.
“Whatever it was, it was the damnedest thing,” Beckett said. “You should’ve seen my brother. I almost didn’t recognize him having to eat crow and admit he was wrong. They’re heading home to spend a nice quiet evening alone, recovering. That’s probably more from the breakup than the assault. What are you guys up to?”
“We’re about to pick fruit,” Lucien droned, his voice not conveying any excitement about the task. “Want to join us?”
“Let’s help,” Kelly urged, wide-eyed. “Sounds like fun.”
“It sounds like a lot of work,” Beckett corrected. “Does it involve another beer and maybe supper?”
Brogan stifled a snicker and turned to Kelly. “Does this guy ever think of anything besides his stomach or where his next meal is coming from?”
Kelly studied Beckett. “Now that you mention it, not really. On most farms, you have to work for your supper. Ever considered that?”
“Fine,” Beckett muttered, scowling in Lucien’s direction. “This is your fault. Why did you feel the need to grow a backyard full of stuff that needs plucking from a vine? Why couldn’t you just go to the grocery store like everybody else?”
Lucien slapped him on the back. “Stop your whinging and grab one of those buckets next to the garage.”
“There are also wicker gardening baskets in the shed,” Brogan said with a grin as she retrieved the cute hampers. “You’d look great carrying one of these.”
“Bite me,” Beckett cracked. “I’ll take the stupid bucket.”
When Troy and Zach trekked past them, heading back to their truck, Brogan smiled at the haul they carried. Each man transported a bucket full of fruit.
Troy held up his bucket. “Don’t worry. We’ll leave the buckets by the corner of the house. We’ll pour all this into boxes we keep in the truck.”
“I’m not worried,” Brogan assured him. “Glad you could help us out.”
For the next two hours, the remaining four worked their way down the rows of lemon, orange, and apple trees, looking for ripe fruit before turning their attention to the vegetable garden. They picked tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, beans, four different varieties of lettuce, and enough fresh herbs to last a week.
“Why are we always eating out when there’s all this food right here?” Brogan wondered out loud. “We should be eating veggies morning, noon, and night.”
“Convenience,” Lucien replied, wiping his brow. “We should put a fruit stand down by the road.”
“I could build one,” Beckett volunteered, suddenly excited at the notion. “Give me whatever lumber you have on hand, and I’ll throw together a farm stand before nightfall.”
Lucien nodded toward the outbuilding next to his studio. “I’ve got extra two-by-fours left over from building the house. We could use that.”
“Sounds perfect.”
The men abandoned the picking, left the field, and marched off to get it done.
