Her Mysterious Houseguest. Jane Toombs

she said, tossing one to Mikel.

      “I take it green, in this case, is ripe,” he said.

      “My, so suspicious.”

      “Why not? Since Eve persuaded Adam to eat an apple, things have never been the same.”

      “But this isn’t Paradise.”

      She didn’t realize how relaxing the quiet and peace of the farm were, Mikel thought. Hell, even he was surprised at how relaxed he felt. “Close enough,” he told her, “but I’ll chance the apple.” He took a bite.

      “What’s the verdict?”

      “Hmm, a hint of tartness within the sweet, summery flavor. A good year.”

      She laughed. “Hey, it’s only an apple, not fine wine.”

      “But this is a special one.” Like you, he wanted to add, but had enough sense not to. With the sunshine gleaming on her dark wavy hair as she smiled up at him, her brown eyes still crinkled with laughter, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Flaws tended to show up in sunlight, but if Rachel had any, they weren’t visible.

      “Metrovich’s is pretty casual, in case you wondered,” she said.

      “Figures. Most of what I’ve seen of the U.P. seems to be. It’s a different world up here.”

      “That’s why a lot of us never leave.”

      “How about you?”

      A flicker of some emotion couldn’t identify crossed her face and disappeared. “Sometimes I think it must be the only safe place left in the world,” she said so softly he hardly heard her words.

      Seeing an opening, he said, “It must have been difficult raising Eva while you were still a child yourself.”

      She turned away from him to pick another apple from the tree, speaking with her back to him. “I was glad to have a way to give in return for what others had given me. Besides, Eva was a pretty good kid, as kids go.” She dropped the apple into a sack with others. “That’s seven apples, more than enough for Aino. He’s complaining about hospital food so I plan to take these in to him before we go to dinner.”

      It was obvious she didn’t want to discuss the subject. He didn’t have a clue why. After all, it didn’t matter. Rachel raising Leo’s daughter had no bearing on what he’d come here to do—find Renee Reynaud. Eva, herself, might prove to be of more help than Rachel, since she’d actually known Renee.

      “I’m looking forward to meeting Eva,” he said.

      Ignoring his comment, Rachel said, “Shall I show you the apple tree seedlings on the back porch?”

      Reminded of his upcoming duties as a planter, he nodded, hoping the guys at headquarters would never hear he’d spent part of his vacation playing at being Johnny Appleseed.

      He surveyed the motley containers the tiny trees were growing in—everything from coffee cans to cardboard cartons and said, “Looks as though Aino recycles everything.”

      “Farmers always have, didn’t you know?”

      “If these seedlings get put in a hole in the ground, will they all grow?” he asked.

      “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

      He sighed. “I figured it would be. I know zip about plants—Grandma Sonia handled the ones growing in the house. I remember her talking to the droopy fern in the entry, coaxing it to do better.”

      “Did it?”

      “Come to think of it, I don’t know what happened to that fern. It never did show up after my grandparents moved to the condo in White Plains.”

      “You didn’t have an outside plot to grow things in when you were a kid?”

      “I remember a big tree in back of the apartment complex in the city that shed leaves all over the place in the fall. With that tiny yard, it didn’t leave room for much else.”

      “Let me get what you need to read for your demonstration tomorrow. You can give them a quick run-through while I go visit Aino and, when I get back, we’ll discuss how-to.”

      He grinned. “How-to?”

      She shook her head at him and entered the house.

      His smile faded as he gazed at the fragile-looking seedlings in the pots. How had he let himself get talked into this, anyway?

      Rachel returned briefly to hand him a book and a pamphlet, then disappeared. Easing onto the bench swing suspended by hooks from the porch overhang, he sat with the books in his lap, thinking about Rachel instead of trying to read any of the material she’d given him.

      She couldn’t be less like Yolanda, he told himself. She was neither self-seeking nor dishonest. No denying she was connected with this case, though. His case, not an agency one, yet still business, not pleasure. He’d vowed never to be fooled again by a woman, especially while working. But it was getting more and more difficult to resist his attraction to Rachel. Damn it, he wanted to hold her, to feel her respond to him, to make love to her.

      What could possibly be the harm in a brief affair? Because it would be. Other than the fact he wouldn’t be here long, he took care to make sure not to get involved in any long-term entanglement. No strings.

      He had no inclination to change his lifestyle—why should he? So far, it’d been working out just fine. The women he met were out for a good time—they had no more desire to tie themselves down than he did. No one got hurt and no regrets.

      “Wait’ll you fall in love, old buddy,” Steve had once said to him. “I hope I’m around when it happens, so I can be the first to say I told you so.”

      “In love? Whatever that means, it has nothing to do with me so you may just be waiting around forever.” That had been his answer then and was now.

      Love wasn’t on his agenda. How could you fall in love with any woman, when there were no honest ones?