A Family For The Farmer
Home to the FarmerWhen she inherits her grandmother's farm, Emily Elliott must return to the small town she thought she'd permanently escaped. The citified single mom of twins must live on Goosefeather Farm for the summer…or lose it to neighbor and childhood friend Abel Whitlock. It's Abel's chance to own the land he's always wanted, but he won't do it at the expense of the girl he's never forgotten—or her adorable twins. Instead, Abel will show Emily how to take care of the farm and its wayward animals. He has three months to fight for a lifetime with the family he loves.
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Home to the Farmer
When she inherits her grandmother’s farm, Emily Elliott must return to the small town she thought she’d permanently escaped. The citified single mom of twins must live on Goosefeather Farm for the summer...or lose it to neighbor and childhood friend Abel Whitlock. It’s Abel’s chance to own the land he’s always wanted, but he won’t do it at the expense of the girl he’s never forgotten—or her adorable twins. Instead, Abel will show Emily how to take care of the farm and its wayward animals. He has three months to fight for a lifetime with the family he loves.
She couldn’t ignore the gleam in his eyes.
Maybe this arrangement wasn’t such a good idea after all. “You know, babysitting wasn’t part of our agreement.”
“I’ve got to do something to pay you back for that lemon pie you made.” One side of his mouth tilted up. “Besides, I like spending time with the twins.”
A burst of childish laughter came from the yard, and Emily saw the echo of her own smile on Abel’s face. Her heart bobbed and dipped crazily and her cheeks started to burn.
She’d never had anybody to share such parenting moments with, and there was an intimacy that unsettled her, making her feel like her most vulnerable spots were unprotected.
Abel’s smile suddenly faded. “I think you’d better get going.” There was a strange tone in his voice and a stunned intensity in his eyes that struck her like an electric shock.
This was bad. Those silly little sparks flashing between them weren’t one-sided. Abel was feeling them, too, and that could only mean one thing.
Trouble.
LAUREL BLOUNT lives on a small farm in middle Georgia with her husband, David, their four children, a milk cow, dairy goats, assorted chickens, an enormous dog, three spoiled cats and one extremely bossy goose with boundary issues. She divides her time between farm chores, homeschooling and writing, and she’s happiest with a cup of steaming tea at her elbow and a good book in her hand.
Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your hands, just as we told you.
—1 Thessalonians 4:11
In memory of my mother,
Frances Russell Medcalf, who encouraged me to dream, and for my husband, David, who made all those crazy dreams come true.
Contents
“I don’t want a peanut butter sandwich. I want one of the hamburgers we smelled outside.” Five-year-old Phoebe’s voice sounded unusually whiny, and Emily Elliott sighed as she dropped the baggie-wrapped offering back into her purse.
She knew her children were tired. She’d had to roust them out of bed early to make the drive down to Pine Valley from Atlanta in time for this appointment with her grandmother’s lawyer. She could have saved herself all that heroic rushing around, because the attorney had already kept them waiting twenty minutes.
And of course his office would have to be located downwind of the small town’s one and only fast food restaurant.
“You can’t have a hamburger, Pheebs. There’s no money.” Paul spoke calmly to his twin as he flipped through the book on reptiles he’d just pulled out of his backpack. “There never is.”
Emily’s heart clenched, and she cast a quick glance over to the desk where the sleek secretary was busily clicking the keys on her computer. The other woman caught her eye and gave Emily a pitying smile. She’d heard.
Emily felt her face flush. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself sternly. She was here to get the details of her grandmother’s estate settled, not to impress Jim Monroe’s secretary.
Her daughter pushed her bottom lip out. “I’m tired of sitting here. You said this would take just a few minutes, but we’ve been waiting a really long time.”
“We have been waiting a long time.” Emily shifted uneasily in her chair. She really hoped Mr. Monroe wasn’t going to ask her to reschedule this meeting. If she had to drive down again, it would cost gas money she didn’t have, and she’d have to ask Mr. Alvarez for another day off.
Asking for this one off had been bad enough.
Well, there was no point fretting over all that now. “All things work for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose,” her minister had assured the congregation last Sunday. Surely that included late lawyers and cranky bosses. Emily forced a smile and smoothed a stray tendril of blond hair away from her daughter’s sulky face. “Try to be patient, honey. I don’t think it’ll be much longer.”
“Here, Pheebs.” Her son pushed his reptile book over so that it rested halfway in his sister’s lap. “You can share my book. It shows the inside of the lizards, not just the outsides. See? That’s his guts.”
“Eeww!” Phoebe made a face, but soon she was as absorbed in the book as her brother.
