Harvest Moon. Робин Карр

pie. And then there’s rhubarb jam.” She shrugged. “It was going to go bad if I didn’t.”

      He almost swooned from the aromas. “Thank God you came to town,” he said.

      “Come in,” she invited with a laugh. “I’m just cleaning up the kitchen. I’ll see if Jill has time to take you for a tour of the house and grounds. Then, if you’re very good, I’ll give you a slice of pie.”

      “Are you sure? Because I really meant to call in advance and ask you to pick a time …”

      “I’m picking a time,” she said, pulling on his hand. “Come in. I’m still busy in the kitchen and kind of desperate for my shower, but maybe Jill is free. Let’s see.”

      He followed her into the house and noted there was no furniture until he got to the kitchen. There, as promised, was a mess. But resting on the kitchen table in the large breakfast nook were ten pies. And there were now other smells. His head tilted back and his nose began to work the room.

      She noticed. “I’m roasting a leg of lamb for dinner. Can you stay?”

      “Oh, I’m sure I’m imposing …”

      “On a chef?” She laughed. “I’m more likely to be insulted if you decline.”

      He grinned at her. Maybe that old saying about the fastest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was true, because suddenly he wanted her even more. Wanted! He really thought he was far past that kind of fierce yearning. He had found himself amazed even to be intrigued. This desire was just awesome, and he relished it. “I’ll stay. My daughter is doing homework with a friend and having dinner there tonight.”

      “That’s right,” she said. “There’s a daughter. I apologize. I’d forgotten. I’ll have both of you next time.”

      He just laughed; they’d have to revisit that idea. “Courtney is actually my stepdaughter, though she uses my last name. It’s complicated. I’ll explain later. But what are you going to do with all those pies?”

      “I don’t know. I could use a bigger freezer, but only the most essential equipment is in the house at the moment. I guess I’ll spread ‘em around. A few for Preacher, that’s for sure—he told me he’s been trying to make a decent rhubarb pie for years. I can’t believe how much stuff Jill has that’s running out of time—tomorrow I have to get a good start on blackberries. She’s had friends and neighbors out here picking for a good month and there’s still such a big crop left, someone has to do something with it. Blackberry preserves, jam, pie filling…. I came up here to surf the Net for a job, and I’m working my tail off. Let me go out to the garden and ask her if she has time to scoot you around in her garden mobile …”

      “Garden mobile?”

      “It’s how she gets between her gardens. Have a seat—I’ll be a minute.”

      As Kelly hurried out the back door, Lief didn’t go far. He pulled out one of the stools at the work island and just looked around. For some reason, all the messy pots and bowls around the large kitchen made him feel at peace. Ever since growing up on a farm with a lot of siblings and hands, a busy, messy kitchen full of good smells always made him feel safe and protected. And the sight of ten pies cooling on the table was familiar as well—his mother always baked en masse, sharing with family, friends, neighbors, anyone.

      Kelly was back quickly. “Jill has just been kicking around the pumpkins, squash and melons. She’s right outside. While you have your tour, I’m going to clean up my mess.”

      He stood. “If you wait, I’ll help. I had good training. I’m a good kitchen cleaner.”

      “Maybe you’ll get your chance another time. Go on—she’s waiting for you.”

      Even though Lief was more interested in the chef than the landscape, he really got into his tour. Jill drove him around acres of land that was partially prepared for organic farming. A winter crop had been started; she was drying seeds from her own fruits and vegetables for the next season’s crop, and she’d started building retaining walls to use like steppes to level the slope of the hill to maximize her planting space in the spring.

      The fall harvest of pumpkins, melons and squash was amazing—pumpkins that could indeed make Cinderella’s carriage.

      “I’m saving the really big ones from Kelly so the town kids have a crack at them. She has a pumpkin soup she can’t wait to get to and so I’m pushing the smaller ones at her. And these huge zucchini and winter squash—it’s more experimental than anything. Come on, let’s go see what Colin’s painting. This morning he was working on a herd of elephants. He’s just back from shooting the Serengeti—lots of beautiful big game.”

      The sunroom on the second floor of the house stretched the length of the building across the roof of the back porch. That was where Colin liked to paint because the light was good. The paintings—ranging from wilderness art to big African game—were astonishing. Also in that sunroom were a sectional, entertainment center and large flat-screen TV—their living room, or a reasonable facsimile.

      Lief was fascinated by the creativity in this house. Jillian stretched her imagination in the garden, Colin painted incredible animals from all over the globe, and Kelly was cooking. Today it was pies, but tomorrow it could be dishes that might only be found in a five-star restaurant in San Francisco.

      “Come on, Lief,” Colin said. “Let’s get a beer and sit on the back porch. Jilly has to shower off the garden and Kelly is working on making me the shape of Santa Claus. We’re on our own.”

      “I feel like I should help somehow,” Lief said. “I dropped by unexpectedly and now I’m even going to be fed and entertained. Maybe I could hose off the gardening equipment or wash the pots.”

      Colin just laughed at him. “What I’ve learned is—these girls are going to do exactly what suits them and the best thing for you to do is stay out of the way.” When they got to the kitchen, Colin opened the refrigerator and surveyed the contents. “We have ‘near beer’ and high-test. What’s your pleasure?”

      “The real deal, by all means,” Lief said. “How did you stumble into this nirvana? “

      Sitting on the back porch in perfect October weather, Lief heard about how Colin came to Virgin River after being retired from the army, a place to recover after a helicopter crash while Jillian had escaped a corporate job in Silicon Valley. They found each other by accident, but in a town of roughly six hundred, they were bound to meet. It was the falling-in-love part that was extraordinary. “I’m not a young guy,” Colin said. “I don’t think Jilly would be offended to hear me say I’ve met a few women—quite a few. I lived a transient, military life and wasn’t ever tempted to settle down. But Jilly? She makes me want to grow my roots deep.”

      “Sounds serious,” Lief observed.

      “Oh, I’m serious about Jilly. But we’re winging it for right now—just one day at a time. What about you? How did you end up in a place like this?”

      He retold the story—wife died, daughter having a hard time of it, needing a smaller, friendlier town than L.A., trying to get past the rough patch of losing a wife and mother, fresh start. The question about what he’d done in L.A. didn’t come until later, when they were all sitting down to dinner together. “I’m a writer,” he said.

      “As in newspaper?” Kelly asked.

      Right then he suspected he was completely safe from any kind of notoriety. “No, as in script writer.”

      “Seriously?” Jillian asked. “Like TV or something?”

      “Something like that. Movies, actually,” he said.

      “How interesting,” Kelly said. “I haven’t seen a movie in years. Well, I sometimes see them after the Academy Awards, when they finally make the cable networks. I’ve been held hostage in kitchens since I was eighteen.”

      “And