“Where’s the mother?”
“She’s out earning her keep.”
Alex threw her a puzzled look. “Excuse me?”
Relaxing on her knees, bent over the kittens, Sera smiled. “Catching mice, I hope. Everybody has a job on the farm.”
“I see.”
Sera pushed the bedding back around the litter and stood, brushing bits of hay from her sweatpants.
“Two dogs, two horses and seven cats.”
She nodded. “Eight cats. Smoky is a gray tomcat and he’s neutered. But I can’t afford to spay or neuter every cat that’s dropped off. Hazards of owning a farm.”
When he didn’t answer, she fastened the lid on the cat-food container. “I’ll show you where we used to store the hay.” She started up the stairs and disappeared. Her head reappeared through the hole cut in the ceiling. “Be careful. These are just boards nailed on risers.”
Gripping the edge of the upper floor, Alex climbed the stairs and poked his head through the hole. He pulled himself out into the upstairs. “This place is huge.”
She brushed some hay off a wide beam running across the width of the barn. “Chance and I used to play hide-and-seek in here with Cy and his older sister all the time.” She looked up at a fluttering of wings high in the loft. “We would play for hours.”
Walking to the big open barn doors, Alex stood at the top of the earthen ramp that led down to the car shed and looked out across the fields, where tiny green shoots poked through the soil. “Corn?”
Nodding, she came to stand beside him. “Sweet corn.”
“So you and Cy are old friends?”
She started at the shift in conversation. The man seemed too inquisitive for someone just passing through, but then again maybe he was just making small talk. “We’ve known each other for a long time.” She hesitated, then continued, “Funny, you and I have never crossed paths.”
He took so long to answer she thought he hadn’t heard her. His response was quiet. “My parents moved to Shadow Falls after I was in college. Cy and I didn’t spend much time together as kids.”
She sighed. “He wants to buy the place.” She thought Alex would look surprised, but he just continued to stare out at the fields.
As a bird swooped by them out the doors, he glanced up at the rafters. “Is the farm for sale?”
She bit her lip. “Good question.”
He finally fixed her with the same studied stare he had been bestowing on the fields. “How about that tour?”
“Follow me. You’ll want to ride.” She led the way to the empty shed.
“Are you driving?”
One raised light brown eyebrow hinted at Sera landing in the ditch the night before. She propped her hands on her hips. “Of course.”
The golf cart was parked in the third stall. The empty middle stall reminded her again she had to figure out a way to retrieve the truck. Settling into the front seat, Sera waited for Alex. But only when she patted the seat beside her did Alex move toward the vehicle.
“A golf cart. On a farm?”
She turned the key. “My dad would take any payment for a gig. He and the band did a show at a golf course fund-raiser one year.”
Alex reached for the back of the seat and then froze. “Wait a minute. I thought you said he wasn’t around.”
Sera looked over her shoulder. The Saint Bernard lay curled up in the wooden bed of the golf cart. She threw Alex a glance. “I said he had things to do. A ride around the property is one of them. He’s too lazy to walk.”
With a last narrow-eyed glance at the dog, Alex settled next to her and gripped the edge of his seat. “I think I’m ready.” He pulled out his phone, checked the time and with a grimace returned the phone to his pocket.
“Got somewhere to be?” Sera frowned as she pulled out of the shed. This guy wasn’t interested in looking around. At that moment she decided to let Cy know in no uncertain terms how much he owed her for babysitting his cousin. “We’ll start out front.”
Sera pointed to the fields on either side of the lane leading to the house. “Horse pasture. Just my mom’s horse and mine now.”
“Very nice.” Alex let go of the dash and leaned back in the seat. “Do you ride?”
A feeling of nostalgia washed over her as they passed the two horses. At one time she had ridden her palomino gelding every day. “Not as much as I used to. You?”
Alex shook his head. “The few times we visited, Cy and I would ride his ponies down to the creek. But it’s been a long time.”
At the mailbox Sera turned left onto the berm of the main road but soon opted for a tight rutted two track that took them into a patch of woods.
The golf cart bounced over a fallen branch. At his grunt she gave him an appraising look. “How’s your head?”
“Not bad. Your great-aunt’s coffee helped quite a bit.” He glanced around. “Lots of trees.”
“We have twenty acres of timber. It might be ready to be logged. That’ll give me some extra cash.”
“Is money tight?” Alex didn’t look at her when he asked the question, just held on to the dash and scrutinized his surroundings as she motored through the woods.
At his question a tingle ran down her spine as she remembered who she was talking to. Cy’s cousin. Cy Carter, the neighbor who had indicated his interest in buying her family’s farm. “Just something we do periodically.”
Leaving the woods behind, she followed the narrow path uphill until they came out among the bare trees of the apple orchard. She shut off the golf cart and leaned back against the seat. “Your cousin has a flag—”
“Finally I have a signal. I have to make a call.” He jumped out of the cart and strode off.
“Okay.” But her reply was wasted. He was already walking away, talking rapidly and gesticulating in the air. Why exactly was this New York cousin visiting his country relative? Soon enough, he would be out of her hair.
His face was pensive as he walked back to the cart. He shoved the phone in his pocket, glanced briefly at the Saint Bernard and resumed his place next to her. He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “Does the quiet ever get on your nerves?”
“You get used to it.”
He gestured at the trees around them. “What kind of trees?”
“Apple.”
Alex’s brows raised in surprise. “All of them?”
“Yep.” She nodded. “These apples are eating apples. Crisp, sweet. They ripen early September. I sell them at the farmer’s market in town.” She pointed to the low cloud cover hanging over the creek. “Your cousin’s place is on the other side.”
“What about that place?” He pointed to a small log cabin at the base of the hill next to another grove of trees. Smoke coming out the stone chimney disappeared into the fog.
“That’s the oldest structure on the farm.” She followed his gaze, thinking of the older man inside recovering from pneumonia. With a stab of guilt, she remembered the flue should have been checked last year and she hadn’t had the money to hire someone. This year, for sure.
In