Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) đź“•
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- Author: Abbie Zanders
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“My grandmother is. My grandfather passed quite a few years ago now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. They’re good people. Your grandmother was a firecracker from what I remember.”
“She still is,” Tina told her, hoping Maggie didn’t inquire about other things, too.
Thankfully, if Maggie remembered the reason for those frequent visits, she was kind enough not to bring them up.
“Tina, Doc, this is my husband, Michael,” Maggie said, introducing them to the tall, handsome man in the kitchen. To Tina, she mock whispered, “He’s a doctor, but try not to hold that against him.”
Tina grinned. It appeared she and Maggie had something else in common. They were both attracted to men with medical training, which seemed kind of ironic since they’d once bonded over their mutual dislike for the field.
The dark-haired man smiled. Just the slightest hint of silver frosted his temples, but it only added to his good looks, especially with those brilliant blue eyes.
“Tina, it’s good to meet you,” he said, offering his hand and then repeating the gesture with Doc. “I believe you know my brothers.”
Doc nodded. “Ian and Jake. They’ve been very supportive of Sanctuary.”
“It’s a great thing you’re doing,” Michael said.
“And that’s George,” Maggie said, waving her hand toward the ancient-looking basset hound in the corner, looking mighty comfortable in his therapeutic doggy bed. He lifted his head and offered a wag of his tail. “Don’t mind him. He only moves when he has to these days.”
They exchanged pleasantries while Maggie offered them coffee and bear claws, which were every bit as delicious as they smelled.
“So,” Maggie said after a while, “Doc tells us Obermacher Farms is in a bit of a pickle.”
That was an understatement. With Doc’s gentle encouragement, Tina gave them a high-level overview of the farm’s current situation. She didn’t go into detail, simply saying that her brothers had made some bad investments and because of that, the farm would be placed up for auction among developers.
She had to accept that, but it hurt, and it was impossible to keep the emotion completely out of her voice.
Maggie nodded and reached over to pat her hand. “I know how you feel. I came close to losing this place, too. In my case, it was because of shady financial shenanigans and local political corruption.”
Well, that certainly sounded familiar. Tina looked at Doc, but his hazel eyes gave nothing away.
“Thankfully, that was right about the time Michael came into my life,” Maggie continued, “and he and his brothers worked miracles.”
“How so?”
“Shane is a brilliant lawyer. He did a deep dive into the township’s case, which was based on sketchy rezoning and tax requirements. Anyway, he found some substantial holes that got me off the hook and several township officials in hot water.”
“Oh.” Tina tried to hide her disappointment.
Their situations weren’t so similar after all. Legal loopholes didn’t exist for bad investments and illegal arms deals.
“Of course, the deal with the Celtic Goddess didn’t hurt either,” Maggie said and then went on to explain. The deal had allowed Maggie to retain ownership of her land and contract out huge parcels to the restaurant in exchange for exclusive rights to the fresh organic produce the farm yielded.
To Tina, it sounded like the ideal solution. Maggie was getting paid for someone else to farm her land. That was far more palatable than stripping the soil and building high-end condos.
“I’m really glad everything worked out for you.” Tina summoned a smile even though her heart felt like it was breaking. “We caught a glimpse of the fields as we drove in. They look great.”
“The Goddess does a good job. They’re serious about sustainable farming and use only the best. Plus, they’re supportive of the community. We host school field trips, promote pick-your-own events, and even run a haunted hayride in the fall.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
“It is, and the best part is, I can be as involved as I want. Admittedly, having kids really changed my priorities.”
“You have kids?” Tina asked.
“Two boys. They’re hanging out with their cousins today or I’d introduce you. Would you like to take a walk? I can show you some of the things we’ve done.”
“I’d love to,” Tina said honestly.
As they walked along, Maggie told Tina about some of the things they’d tried and what had proven most successful. Farming, especially produce farming, was something Tina could talk about for hours on end. Most people tended to get bored quickly when she did, however, so she curbed her enthusiasm and kept her answers short and relevant.
Maggie seemed keen to continue talking though and asked lots of questions about Tina’s experience, especially when it came to hybrid grafts and some of her more unusual products. Apparently, Maggie was something of a mad canner, too.
As they went on, the men fell farther and farther behind.
When Tina thought it was safe to do so without being overheard, she asked, “I wanted to ask ... do you happen to have any of your grandmother’s old recipes?”
“All of them,” Maggie said with a chuckle. “Did you have something particular in mind?”
Tina glanced behind them, finding the men engrossed in a discussion of their own. “A couple of things actually, but the one I’m most interested in is for joint pain.”
Maggie’s eyes softened. “I wondered if you still had issues with that. Does Doc know?”
“No. No one does, outside of immediate family.”
“It must be incredibly hard to keep something like that a secret.”
“Not as hard as you might think,” Tina said.
She’d gotten quite good at hiding it over the years. Not having close friends or a social life made it easier. Even her brothers assumed she’d “grown out of it” or at least it had lessened in severity. But Doc ... it was much harder, keeping it from him.
“He loves you, you know,” Maggie said suddenly.
Tina stopped abruptly, her heart hammering in her chest. “Why would you say that?”
Maggie stopped, too. When Tina looked at her eyes, they seemed to be swirling, just like Maggie’s grandmother’s used to. Some people
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