Last Chance Harbor (6 page)

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. Everyone chipped in when it came to harvesting the long list of seasonal crops that grew in abundance. K
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, spin
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nt v
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,
left the farm
daily headed to
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ea
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f
ood
sto
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s all over the West Coast.

With Cord Bennett busy at school, Ryder had taken up the slack. His handy list of chores included the morning and evening milking, the bookkeeping and payroll, along with all the administrative duties Cord didn’t have time to do.

It fell to Ryder to make sure nothing slipped through the cracks. From tinkering with the
sol
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st
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m on the weekends
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to researching the best
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thods into the late-hours of the night, Ryder had resolved to return the favor for the buddy who’d saved him from wallowing in a vat of self-pity. Cord Bennett had thrown him a lifeline and he didn’t intend to let him down.

He’d almost reached the outskirts of town before he realized he’d forgotten to pick up the v
e
g
e
t
a
bl
e
seedlings at the nursery he’d promised Silas.

Shooting a U, he backtracked, pulling into the parking lot of The Plant Habitat before they closed their doors for the day.

“How’s it going?” Ryder asked the woman behind the counter he knew as Shelby Jennings. He could count on Shelby to always offer up a hundred-watt smile for her customers.

“It’s going good, honey. You barely made it before we turned out the lights. Long day?”

“It’s always a long day. Did Silas phone in an order this morning?”

“He did indeed and you’re here to pick it up. Got seventy-five asparagus starter plants, one-hundred drought-resistant broccoli plants, another hundred hardy tomato plants…” Shelby spent the next few minutes ticking off the entire list.

After confirming each item, Ryder remembered something he’d forgotten. “Cord wants to add red pears to our line of fruit. Could you order fifty seedlings for starters and then let me know when they come in?”

“You got it. Caleb can help you load if you want. He’s still around…somewhere,” Shelby said, picking up the microphone to direct her son to the front of the store.

But Ryder shook his head. “That’s okay. I can manage.”

Later, Ryder was shoving trays of bedding plants into the back of his pickup when he looked up and gaped at the pretty brunette he’d met just that afternoon at the school.

“Hey, Julianne, what are you doing here?”

“I came by to try to talk Landon Jennings into selling me that old gingerbread house around the corner.”

Ryder stared at her. “The one at the very end of the block before it takes that dog-leg turn up to the lighthouse? That gingerbread house?”

“One and the same.”

“What would you do with it?”

“After I fix it up? Live in it, silly.”

He whistled through his teeth. “That’s a major overhaul, almost as ambitious as the one at the school.”

“Oh please, not even close. The yard’s a little overgrown which makes it look worse than it actually is. After re-planking that front porch, putting new shingles on the roof, sprucing up the paint, I’d have a real find. Besides, what most people see as an eyesore, I see as a treasure.”

“If you say so. I’d go see for myself but I have cows to milk.”

“Cows? Are you a farmer in your spare time?”

“How’d you guess? I work two jobs. I live in a house that comes on the property I help maintain a farm.”

“Welcome to my world.”

“You too?”

“You bet. You ever tried to live on a teacher’s salary? It’s not far off poverty level.”

“Ah, I see what you mean. What’s your second job?”

She told him about
Reclaimed Treasures
.

“Have you ever remodeled a home before? It’s a little different than shining up old things and reselling them.”

Because that statement wasn’t what she expected, one hand flew out and she drilled a finger into his chest. “If that’s a challenge, I’d like to point out that I don’t need your help. In fact, I don’t remember asking for it. I’m not asking for anyone’s to pitch in. But the next time I reupholster a chair and sell it for a huge profit, I’ll be sure to think of Ryder McLachlan who knows positively everything about what I do after meeting me…twice.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Whoa, whoa, slow down. I didn’t mean to piss you off by suggesting you were asking for my help or that you even needed it. All I meant was that I’ve done plenty of remodeling jobs and it’s a ton of work.”

Her irritation faded as fast as it had ignited. But she wanted to set him straight. “Geez, I had no idea. And here I thought it would be a walk in the park.” She rolled her eyes and went on, “So you don’t think a woman is capable of renovating a house all by her little ol’ self? Wow, what century did you time-travel from, Ryder? Let me know so I can avoid setting the time machine for that particular period. In case you haven’t noticed, women do all sorts of jobs that men do these days. Or didn’t you get the memo?”

He felt his annoyance close to overdrive. “My mother could do any job a man could do, like shovel her own driveway out from under eight inches of snowfall. I watched her do it as a kid.”

“She must be so proud of her son then,” Julianne said with a snarl.

“To tell you the truth, she is. I was raised by a single mom, a nurse, a wonder woman in my eyes. My dad was a great guy, too. They were just two opposites who had the misfortune to marry and discover they made each other miserable afterward. It happens.”

Her disdain ebbed, replaced by the soft spot she had for guys who felt that way about their moms and dads. “So, you were from a one-parent household too?”

“Didn’t have much choice in the matter. My parents divorced when I was five. Then when I was about ten my father dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of a pickup basketball game with a group of friends from work.”

“I’m sorry, Ryder.”

At the sentiment, he narrowed his eyes. “So you came from a one-parent, single-mom outfit, too?”

“No mother, a single father though. My mother made it clear early on she didn’t want the hassle of taking care of a kid. So she took off. Having a kid always seemed to get in the way of her social life. Anyway, when I was three or four she bolted out of Santa Cruz so fast she never looked back. I don’t even remember much about her. My poor dad kept thinking she’d come back. But after years and years of not hearing from her, he finally wised up and divorced her when I was around eight or so. My dad didn’t have to keep me either. He could just as easily have packed me off for my grandparents to bring up. But he didn’t do that. Even though he worked a lot, he’d take me along on jobs with him. We managed just fine.”

“Ah yes, all the busybodies who love to preach about how us kids from divorce are destined for failure should shut the hell up.”

“Why Ryder McLachlan, do you realize what just happened here?”

“What?”

“I think we may have stumbled on something we actually agree on. Imagine that.”

“We aren’t failures because we didn’t grow up having both parents in the home.”

“Exactly. Life isn’t perfect. Divorce happens. Kids adapt. Some adults are better at parenting than others.”

Realization dawned on him. “That’s how you learned to use a drill. Your father taught you.”

She grinned. “Among other tools. He often took me to work with him. I mostly got in the way until I was around six. That’s when he started letting me use a hammer. John Dickinson is a highly skilled carpenter, always in demand, one of the best in Santa Cruz. Despite the so-called studies, I had a normal upbringing in a loving, nurturing home. It just so happened to be with a single father instead of a mother. The statistics should focus on the fact some women aren’t meant to be mothers.”

Ryder agreed. “I really hate all that bogus crap that claims children from one-parent, broken homes, are doomed to failure. It’s bullshit. Oh, sorry for my language. Sometimes the Philly side of me surfaces along with my Army background.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m beginning to connect with the Philly side. Those studies defy logic. In my case, my mother wasn’t someone I’d have wanted raising me or influencing my upbringing in the first place. I’m lucky she ditched me when she did.”

“Why do you suppose they do it?”

“Do what? Take off?

“No, why do you suppose all those ill-informed, so-called experts peddle that garbage, telling ordinary folks to stick it out in an unhappy situation? A marriage that breeds a lot of infighting every day doesn’t set a good example for how kids should treat each other down the road.”

“You want my opinion? I think in some cases those so-called experts scare people into sticking it out. They leave parents too nervous and aware of those ‘statistics’ to start over. It takes courage to begin again. One parent invariably ends up using the kids to justify staying which makes for a miserable home life. Who knows? Maybe some people enjoy the martyr role. Whatever the reason, it’s unfair to the kids though, don’t you think?”

“That’s the truth. Aren’t people like us the experts—the kids who’ve been through divorce and turned out something other than the wretched serial killers they thought we would be? Both my parents were definitely not a good match. Once they divorced, I didn’t miss the nightly yelling and screaming matches. I was happy things had calmed down. Once they worked out visitation, I got to see both of them in a more serene setting. For the first time in my life I saw them happy, not with each other, but in their own way. It made a huge difference to me.”

“There you go. Who in their right mind would miss the daily drama of an unhappy parent who just doesn’t want to be there? You know, some of my brightest students are from one-parent homes. I have this one little boy who does math so well he could teach the other kids in his sleep. He and his sisters live with their father. I had his sisters earlier when I first started teaching and all three kids are fairly brilliant.”

Ryder rocked back on his heels. “So, are we okay here?”

She smiled. “Sure. Now go milk your cows, Ryder. I need to head back home anyway so I can work on my next pitch to Landon Jennings. And besides, I have to figure out my lesson plan for March.”