Harvest Moon (Virgin River #15)(44)

Jill laughed. “What about the dad?”

Kelly thought for a moment. “I adore him,” she said after a moment. “He’s everything a woman could want in a man. And for as much as I think his daughter is too much baggage for me, I admire him so much for refusing to make her less than a priority. He’s completely devoted to her. And not out of some weird obligation—he really understands what she might be going through since losing her mother.” And then she went back to stirring her pot again.

“He sounds pretty perfect.”

“Yeah. Everything that makes me love him also makes me keep him at arm’s length. I’m just not ready.”

“And you’re trying to cook your way out of it?” Jill asked.

Kelly shrugged. “That’s what I do. Cook my way through the problems.”

“And what are you going to do with this stuff?”

“While I’m waiting for permits and licenses, I’ll keep giving it away as free samples, see if I can get anyone interested. Then when I’m legal, I’ll know where to take my stock.”

“Excellent idea!” Jill agreed. “Have you thought about selling on the internet?”

“I have absolutely no idea what that involves!”

“Let’s look into it,” Jill suggested. “Might be a good idea. If not, we move on.”

“We?” Kelly asked.

Jill put her elbows on the work island and leaned toward Kelly. “I love that you’re living here. I love having you use this beautiful new kitchen. I love that you can use what I can grow. We’ll make a great team. The longer I can keep this little love fest going, the better I like it.”

Just a few days after that conversation, Colin came into the kitchen while Kelly was up to her elbows in Nana’s sweet relish. It hadn’t taken her long to have a thousand jars of canned gourmet specialties stacked up and out of the way in the unfurnished dining room.

“This is just amazing,” Colin said. “You’re like a factory.”

Kelly shrugged off the compliment. “I’m pretty efficient. And it doesn’t hurt to have a nice big six-burner gas stove. While the relish simmers, I chop and mix. While the relish cools, I simmer a new batch. I probably produce over a hundred jars a day.”

“Have you heard from the health department yet?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “With the economy struggling, restaurants closing and growing in the off-season, they’re not busy. I’m going to have an inspector any day now. And this kitchen is going to get an A-plus.”

“And you,” he said.

“I’d better. I already have my state food handler’s certificate.”

“I have something for you to look at.” He put his sketch pad on the work island. “If I’m overstepping or none of this appeals, you won’t offend me by just saying so. I was fooling around, that’s all.”

She flipped through the pictures with captions. “What is this?” she asked.

“Possible labels for your canned delicacies. I know—you didn’t ask me to do this and I got involved on my own. But Kelly, you could use something besides a Magic Marker. Seriously. And if you have a something in mind, just say so. I can have labels printed for you in no time.”

She glanced through the pictures, from baskets of vegetables to images of her face, logos, slogans—they were fantastic. There was one that really caught her eye. On the top it said “From Jilly Farms.” Right under that it said, “Spicy Peach & Tomato Chutney.” On the right side was a picture of Kelly, on the left a picture of Jillian. On the bottom—“All Natural, All Organic, All Delicious.”

“Where did you get the idea for this?” she asked.

“Well, Jilly trademarked Jilly Farms as well as the slogan, and the other night she said she wished she could just keep growing for your cooking—it’s so much more appealing to her than shipping her produce to restaurants and delis. It gave me this idea. You might be getting some of your fruits and vegetables from other stores and farms at the moment, but it occurred to me that this was possible…. I thought maybe Jilly could one day be your supplier. Have you been out to the greenhouses lately? Because she’s got a good winter crop going out there, thanks to irrigation, lights and warmers.”

She stared at the label, lifted her eyes to Colin’s, looked at the label again. “Colin, I love this,” she said in an almost reverent whisper. Then, looking at him again, she said, “You would never get rid of me this way.”

He grinned. “Pretty soon you’ll have to accept the fact that no one wants to get rid of you. And I’m not exactly suffering, having you here. Besides, she has Denny to run the farm and I’m almost ready for another trip. This time I’d like Jilly to come along.”

“You mean that?”

“Why not? Of course I mean it. And I can tell, you like it here.”

She grinned right back at him. “God knows I love this kitchen.”

By a week after Halloween, Courtney was astride a horse. Blue. She’d already learned to feed her, brush her, walk her around the pen and then the pasture. She wasn’t quite brave enough to clean out her hooves or groom her tail, but she was beginning to not only trust her, but love her. And she would never admit to anyone—not Lief or Lilly—but being in the saddle made her feel huge! She’d grown so tired of feeling puny and childlike.