Organically Yours (Sanctuary #5) - Abbie Zanders Page 0,2

were of the good ol’ local-boy variety. Unfortunately, they also tended not to be fans of Sanctuary.

He wasn’t interested in getting to know her brothers though. “What about her?”

“Tina? She’s really nice. Nothing like her brothers.”

Tina. Now, he had a name to go with the face. And according to Kate, she was really nice. That was good enough for him. As a member of an old Sumneyville family herself, Kate knew a lot about the locals.

“You know that peach tea you’re so fond of?” Kate continued.

Doc nodded. He’d become addicted to the stuff since Sandy—another Sumneyville native now living at Sanctuary—had first introduced him to it.

“You can thank Tina for that. She manages the Obermacher orchards.”

Doc looked toward the back of the lot again. The big guy was now getting into the truck, but he didn’t look happy about it.

“That guy looks pissed.”

“Rick always looks like that,” Kate said. “Don’t worry. Tina knows how to handle him.”

“Hey, do you think she’d be willing to come by and look at the old orchard at the resort, see if it’s salvageable?” Mad Dog asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Kate responded. “I’ll call her tomorrow. I bet she’d love to see the greenhouses you designed. From what I remember, she got her degree in agro science.”

The more Doc heard about Tina Obermacher, the more interested he was. And if Kate could get her to come to Sanctuary? Even better.

“Great,” Mad Dog said. “We can use all the help we can get.” He patted the back quarter panel. “All right, everything’s secure. We’re good to go.”

Doc glanced back toward the old pickup, now on its way out the back gate reserved for vendors. With any luck, he’d be seeing Tina Obermacher again soon.

Chapter Three

Tina

Running the orchards was a year-round job, but some seasons were busier than others. Things started ramping up in the spring and then built to a peak in summer and early fall before dropping off again.

March was typically the time to prune existing trees, plant new ones, and fertilize, but exactly when work could be done depended on the weather. This year, winter seemed reluctant to let go of its icy grip on the region, so it was important to make the most of every good day.

Tina had been making her rounds, checking on the state of things and growing angrier with each section she visited. At least half the trees hadn’t been pruned yet, and the new trees she’d ordered were still waiting to be put in the ground.

By the time she hit the peach grove, she was fuming.

“Eddie!” she called out, spotting her supervisor hanging around the equipment shed along with several guys. Guys who should have been out planting and pruning. Instead, they didn’t seem to be doing anything besides shooting the breeze.

Eddie turned and saw her, his face morphing into the expression she knew so well—irritation. He worked the ever-present chew between his teeth and gums before spitting off to the side. “Yeah?”

She waved toward the stationary compact utility tractor and the three dozen newly delivered young peach trees ready to go. “Why aren’t those in the ground yet? You know we can’t let those roots freeze.”

“Tractor’s acting up.”

The tractor had been fine three days earlier when she hooked up the backhoe attachment and used it to clear debris from blocked drainage channels—something else Eddie should have taken care of but hadn’t.

“What’s wrong with it?”

He turned his head and spit again. “Ain’t a mechanic, am I?”

Some of the guys behind him smirked.

“You sure as hell aren’t,” she agreed, earning a glower.

Eddie had spent enough time around equipment that he should know how to diagnose and fix common problems, but he was more likely to stand back and offer his unsolicited—and often incorrect—opinion rather than actually do something. Letting Rick talk her into putting Eddie on her team had been a decided lack of judgment on her part. She wished Fritz’s arthritis hadn’t forced him to retire. She’d never had to worry about things getting done with Fritz in charge.

Regardless, it didn’t matter. They had jobs to do. Growing superior peaches in the upper regions of Pennsylvania was hard enough. She didn’t need Eddie’s crap, too.

She offered a tight smile and asked the obvious, “Did you remember to put it in neutral and close the choke?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Now, look here—”

“No, you look. I’ll check out the tractor. You grab some shovels and wheelbarrows and get started on those trees.”

“By hand?”

“Yes, by hand.”

“The ground’s frozen.”

Oh, for Pete’s sake.