Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

I was in the sunroom, having my tea. But I do know that she and Gunther have gone out to dinner several times over the past six months, all gussied up, but without the usual name-dropping.”

Tina didn’t like the sound of that.

“Why?” Lottie asked. “Did you hear something?”

Tina relayed what she’d overheard one of the men say about working for Tina not being a problem much longer.

“Sounds like sour grapes to me.” Lottie shook her head. “The male ego is a fragile thing, isn’t it? I wouldn’t worry too much about it, dear, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, and you do the same.”

“Thanks, Gram.”

“Now, call Kate and tell her you’ll be there for dinner next Sunday while I start these dishes. It’s my turn to choose the movie, and I’ve already picked one out.”

“What did you pick?” Tina asked, carrying plates over to the sink.

Lottie’s pale blue eyes, so much like Tina’s, twinkled mischievously. “Magic Mike.”

Chapter Eight

Doc

Doc pulled into Mr. O’Farrell’s driveway, happy to see colorful crocuses pushing up through the dirt in the pristine flower beds—another sure sign that spring was on the way.

These weekly visits had become a regular thing ever since Kate had suggested Doc talk to the old man about the mines in and around the Sumneyville area. Each time he did, Doc came bearing gifts in the form of meals made by Kate.

At one time, Mr. O’Farrell had been on Kate’s Meals on Wheels delivery route, but that was before the Ladies Auxiliary decided they didn’t want to get on the bad side of the fire chief—who allowed them to use the fire hall kitchen—and informed Kate that her volunteer services were no longer required.

When Mr. O’Farrell found out what had happened, he canceled his participation and gave the Ladies Auxiliary a severe tongue-lashing. Kate had been so moved that she’d been cooking him special meals ever since, even going as far as purchasing a box freezer for his garage so she could ensure he always had enough meals on hand.

“Want these in the usual place?” Doc asked, nodding to the box of premade meals in his hands.

The old man nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider. At a sprightly one hundred and three, Mr. O’Farrell was an unending source of fascinating local history and a gifted storyteller.

He closed the door behind Doc and nodded. “Yes, please. Did Kate make that special dinner I asked for?”

“She did,” Doc confirmed with a grin. “She said to tell you it’s in the container with the heart drawn in red Sharpie on top.”

“Kate’s a good lass. Put that one near the front, so I don’t need to dig it out.”

“What are you up to, Mr. O?”

The old man grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Got a hot date tomorrow with a classy woman, and I want to impress her.”

Doc chuckled. “Nice. Anyone I know?”

“Lottie Obermacher. She’s a little young for me—only eighty-six—but I reckon she’s old enough, eh?” The old man winked.

The name piqued Doc’s interest since he’d been thinking a lot about a different Obermacher female lately.

“Obermacher, huh? Same family that has the produce outlet?”

“That’s the one. Lottie’s widowed, going on ten years now. I figured I’ve waited long enough to be respectful. Neither one of us is getting any younger, you know.”

Doc unloaded what he could fit into Mr. O’Farrell’s refrigerator and put the rest into the nearly-full chest freezer in his garage. Doc would have to remember to tell Kate to cut back on the extras for next time. Not everyone ate as much as her tank-sized husband.

Once everything was put away, Doc turned to Mr. O’Farrell to ask him which of the delicious meals he’d like for lunch, only to find the older man waiting patiently by the door with his jacket on, his “fancy” cane in hand, and a dapper tweed flat cap atop his snowy-white hair.

“I guess we’re running errands today?”

“If you don’t mind, son. Like I said, Lottie’s a classy woman. She’s going to want flowers and chocolates.”

As much as he enjoyed simply visiting with Mr. O’Farrell and listening to his stories, driving around town while running errands with him was both a learning experience and an adventure. There wasn’t a spot in town that didn’t have one or more stories associated with it, and the old man knew them all.

It was a beautiful day to do it, too. The sun was shining. The temperature had risen above the freezing mark and was hovering at a respectable forty-five. Plenty of people were out and about, which only added to Mr. O’s running commentary.

“They finally got around to leveling Santori’s, huh?” he noted as they drove past the spot of the café where Sam used to work. “About time. Sure do miss their coffee though. There was a girl who worked there—made the best damn cup of joe I ever had.”

Doc knew exactly who he was talking about. “Sam.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Sammy Appelhoff. Do you know her?”

“Sam’s married, and she lives at Sanctuary now.”

“I think Kate did tell me that once, now that you mention it,” Mr. O’Farrell mused with a nod. “Her grandpa was a good man but an old-school, fire-and-brimstone type. Couldn’t handle it when his only daughter came home pregnant and demanded she give the baby up for adoption.”

He paused, as if allowing the memories to funnel back to him. “She ran away shortly after that, if I recall, and he was never the same. He didn’t even know about Sammy until family services showed up on his door years later. Not sure what happened to the boy.”

Doc knew that Sam’s mother had had mental problems and died by her own hand. Cage had dug up that information as part of their covert investigation when Sam was kidnapped by a deranged psycho several years earlier, but the identity of Sam’s father remained a mystery.

Did Mr. O know who Sam’s father was? And if he did, would Sam want to know? Doc made a mental note