American library books » Other » Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

Read book online «Organically Yours: Sanctuary, Book Five by Abbie Zanders (love letters to the dead txt) 📕».   Author   -   Abbie Zanders



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strokes of a pen. Up in the family cemetery, generations of Obermachers were probably turning in their graves.

“Are you happy now?”

Rick looked at the paper, verifying her signature. “You made the right decision.”

She nodded somberly and turned to go. Before she got to the door, she turned around, grabbed the Tollino offer, and put it into the paper shredder.

“What the hell, Bert?” exclaimed Gunther.

“Just so you don’t get any clever ideas about using the EHI offer to get Tollino to up theirs.”

The guilty look on Gunther’s face confirmed that he’d been thinking of doing exactly that.

She pointed at the EHI contract. “I want this over. Now. Sign it.”

Tina watched as each of her three brothers signed their names above hers. Then, she pulled out her phone and took pictures of it.

“Jesus. Is that really necessary?” asked Gunther.

“With you, yes. This ends right here, right now. I’ll expect notarized copies of the final sale papers by the end of business tomorrow. If I don’t have them, I’m going straight to a lawyer to file fraud charges. And then I’m going to call the ATF and leave an anonymous tip about what you have hidden in the root cellars.”

The veins in Rick’s neck pulsed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me. I’ll never forgive you for this. Any of you.”

Tina walked out of the office, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. She made it into her truck and climbed in, then leaned her head and arms over the steering wheel, willing the sick feeling in her stomach to go away.

The eerie feeling of being watched made her lift her head. Kiefer was standing by her driver’s door.

“Jesus, Kief! Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?”

“Did you mean what you said in there?”

“Every word.”

Kiefer nodded, something like respect flashing in his eyes. “Good for you. You take care of yourself, okay?”

Then, without another word, he walked away.

Epilogue—Six Months Later

Tina

Tina surveyed the orchard with approval. It was small but perfect, a blend of old history and new beginnings. The young trees had taken root, and in another year, they’d be producing gorgeous peaches, maybe her best ever.

In the meantime, some of the older trees—mostly apples but some pears, too—had been keeping her busy. Over the last few months, she’d been doting on them with lots of TLC. They were responding even better than she’d hoped.

Happy orchardist, happy orchard, she thought with a smile.

And she was happy. Why wouldn’t she be? She was doing what she loved and living with the love of her life.

As if on cue, Doc stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “How are they looking?”

“Beautiful. Is it time to go already?”

“It is. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

“Good. Your grandmother and Mr. O are meeting us there.”

The new and improved Peach Mill would be having its grand opening in just a few hours. It would be Tina’s first public appearance in months. She’d been psyching herself up for it ever since the last of the Amish craftsmen left the week before.

They’d really outdone themselves, too. It was even better than before. In addition to the state-of-the-art kitchen and professionally designed shop, the new place also had a small indoor/outdoor café, where visitors could sit and enjoy some of the unique offerings, including not only Tina’s patented recipes, but also some new specialty items created by Lexi Callaghan herself.

The real centerpiece was the old-fashioned cider mill press in the back. Visitors could watch as various ciders were made right before their eyes, using centuries-old methods and just a touch of modern technology. The type of cider featured on any given day would vary, based on what crops were available. In addition to the usual—apple and peach—Tina was also working on crafting the perfect blends of the unusual, like black currants, cherry, and pear ciders.

As they drove down the mountain, Tina wasn’t sure what to expect. She knew many locals would be coming around, more out of curiosity than anything else. So much had happened, but for anyone on the outside, looking in, not much had changed.

Obermacher Farms was still a working farm, supplying the area with fresh produce. Obermachers might not be running it anymore, but many of the same people who’d been working there their whole lives still did, now with bigger paychecks and better benefit packages.

Tina couldn’t help but wonder how her brothers felt about that or if they knew or even cared. She’d moved in with Doc shortly after the sale went through and not seen or spoken to any of them in months. Part of her was sad about that, but it wasn’t a big part. Mostly, she just felt relieved. Being able to wake up in the morning happy and looking forward to the day instead of dreading it was a huge improvement.

Beyond her little ten-acre orchard at Sanctuary, Tina didn’t spend much time in the fields these days. When she did, it was as the lead consultant of the Celtic Goddess Orchard Division. Aidan and Lexi had offered her more—what essentially amounted to a VP position—but she’d turned them down. Her greatest joy came from getting her hands dirty, whether that be creating new hybrids in the Sanctuary greenhouses or experimenting with new recipes in the kitchen with Kate. Lexi’d had her back on that, saying she understood completely.

Tina believed she did, too. The master chef had become not only a business partner, but a good friend as well. In fact, Tina had a lot of good friends now. Doc often said that the men and women of Sanctuary were like family, only better.

He wasn’t wrong. They were there for each other, always and without question, and now, she was fortunate enough to be included among them.

“Holy cow,” Tina said as Doc was forced to slow down to a crawl half a mile before the Peach Mill. “What’s with the traffic jam?”

Doc grinned at her.

“Oh, hell no. This can’t all be for the Peach Mill.

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