A Killer Crop Read Free

slid an English muffin into the toaster and helped herself to a mug of coffee. “I thought it went great. The food was terrific, and everybody looked like they were having a good time. Or maybe better than that—they looked like they felt comfortable, at home with the place. Betcha there wasn’t much food left over.”
    “Good. Michael enjoyed it, too?” When Bree nodded, Meg went on, “And I know Nicky and Brian were pleased. It’s a great start, and I hope they can build on it. Doing it right once is one thing, but doing it every night is something else.”
    Bree’s muffin popped up and she buttered it and put it on a plate. “I know, and I think they know. Hey, I’m going to grab a quick shower, and then we should head up to the orchard. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Corey.” Bree clattered up the back stairs that led from the rear of the kitchen to her room above.
    “So that’s your orchard manager? She seems so young.” Elizabeth tore small pieces from the muffin on her plate.
    “She’s smart, hardworking, and knows what she’s doing. More than I do, at least as far as apples are concerned. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
    Elizabeth seemed to ignore Meg’s comments. “You said there’s only one bathroom?”
    “Yes. I’d love to add another one in a year or two, once I get the hang of this orchard thing and make some money.”
    “Are you short of money? I thought your former employer was generous when they released you.”
    “You mean when they booted me out? Yes, they were, by most industry standards. But I’ve had a lot of expenses getting started here, both with the house and with the facilities and equipment for the orchard. I have to watch my expenses, and a second bathroom is pretty far down the list at the moment. Besides, Bree and I manage just fine.”
    “Still, a second bath would greatly enhance the resale value.”
    Meg counted to ten silently. “Mother, I’m not planning to sell anytime soon, at least until I’ve seen if I can handle the orchard as a business. I told you that.”
    “Yes, you did, but I had hoped you would change your mind. Meg, you aren’t cut out to be a farmer! And all those years of education and experience . . . I’m sure you can find something more suitable, if you look.”
    “Mother, this is not exactly a good time to look for a job, certainly not in the financial sector. Besides, I happen to like what I’m doing. I’m learning a lot. It’s an honest profession with a long history. I like this place, and the people around here are great. What more should I want?”
    “A husband? Or do they call them life partners these days?”
    Why was it her mother always managed to push all her buttons? In the space of the last few minutes, Elizabeth had managed to disparage Meg’s home, her current profession, and her lack of romantic relationship.
    “You met Seth last night,” she began.
    “Oh, that man who brought you home?”
    “Yes. He’s a neighbor, and he lives over the hill. He’s using space in my outbuildings for his renovation business.”
    “He’s in construction?” Elizabeth’s eyebrow inched up a fraction.
    “Mother, you don’t have to say it like that. Actually, he was a plumber when I met him, but he’s wanted to branch out into restoring the old homes around here for a long time, and I offered him the use of my building for his business when his was demolished for the local shopping center.” She thought she’d save the news that he had also attended Amherst College, one of the most prestigious schools in the country—and that he loved what he did. Everything he did, which included serving as a town selectman and unofficial supreme facilitator for just about anything that needed to be done in Granford.
    “Ah,” Elizabeth said.
    Any further comment was forestalled by a knock at the front door—which was odd, because most people Meg knew came around to the kitchen door. She checked her watch: barely eight o’clock. Who