Midu's Magic Page 2

  When she moved to Emerald Hills to follow her magic, she'd thrown herself into starting her farm stand whole-heartedly. Her parents had moved to the United States from Pakistan. They'd made a good life here. They worked hard and expected her to do the same. That's the only way she knew to approach things she cared about. Why should winning Kyle be any different?

  When she woke in the morning, she took extra care before going to the greenhouse with the lettuces. She'd planted three varieties yesterday and had many rows to go.

  Kyle was already there when she walked in. He glanced up to wish her a good morning and stared. "You look different."

  She felt a flush heat her neck and face. "I put on make-up."

  "Your hair's fancy."

  She took a deep breath. "I was tired of just washing it and letting it dry." She'd spent a decent amount of time, pulling it up into soft waves and curls.

  He studied it a moment. "It looks nice."

  Not you look nice. But it looks nice. The man wouldn't sweep a girl off her feet with his charm. She struggled not to look irritated. "Thea said you've been helping the new girl in town."

  "Lynn? You should stop by her shop. You'd like her. She needed more shelves, and Woodrow's working on a big project for Sheri's kitchen."

  "Really?" Midu got distracted by that news. "Sheri doesn't cook."

  "No, but Morgan does, and he told Woodrow that Sheri's kitchen is pitiful."

  Midu laughed. Most of the houses in Emerald Hills had been built in the days of small kitchens and big dining rooms. Guests didn't mingle with the cook. She had to knock down a wall to make her kitchen the size she wanted. "Houses in the suburbs have bigger kitchens."

  "Depends on the era," Kyle said. "If you cross the river to the rich additions around Jess and Lindsay's winery, people put in huge, expensive kitchens, but rarely use them. They'd rather eat out."

  "Does Lynn cook?" She bit her lip. Why had she asked that?

  "No idea." Kyle gave her a look. "We each have different talents."

  She sighed. "True, and it's time we used ours. Come on, Mr. Green Thumb. We have lettuces to plant."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Today, the fourth-graders visit us, remember?" Every year, George Jenkins brought his students here to transplant marigold seedlings into white, steirofoam cups. Hopefully, the plants would survive long enough to give as presents for Mother's Day. Midu didn't grow many flowers, but she started marigolds every year for this occasion.

  Kyle studied her. "I thought that's why you dressed up. You wanted to look good for the kids' field trip."

  No! But she didn't say it. Instead, she huffed a long breath. "The kids will be here in half an hour. We need to get things ready."

  By the time the school bus pulled into their drive, they had bags of potting soil and delicate marigold starts ready to go. George, as usual, had Kyle give the kids a tour of the greenhouses. Midu tagged along and listened as Kyle patiently answered questions. He explained about the different produce they grew and let kids sample different vegetables she cut up for them to try.

  Three hours later, when the last kid climbed on the bus to head back to school, they both sighed their relief. The kids were great, but there was always one who didn't want to be there and one who asked too many questions. Kids bristled with energy, and it took an equal amount of energy to hold their interest. Thank goodness, most of the visit involved moving from place to place and hands-on activities.

  When the bus pulled away, Kyle smiled. "That went pretty well."

  "I'm glad you think so, because we volunteered to go to their school once a week next month to show them how to use different types of produce."

  Kyle grinned. "We did?"

  "The sooner they learn about fruits and vegetables and try different ways to use them, the easier to get them to eat healthier. At least, that's how George sold me on the idea."

  Kyle laughed. See? She could make him laugh, too. "You like working with kids."

  "Once a year, it's great. They like hands-on, and cooking with us is more fun than diagramming sentences. They're ten. We can still impress them."

  His brow furrowed, and Midu tilted her head, waiting to hear what was bothering him. "I got engaged when I was twenty. Did I tell you that? If I'd have married Terri, we might have a kid about that age."

  "You were engaged?" Midu didn't know why that surprised her so much. He'd never once hinted at it, but he was definitely a keeper. He must have had some kind of life before he moved to Emerald Hills. "What happened?"

  "Terri went on a cruise with a girlfriend, met someone else, and I got a letter from California."

  "Ouch!"

  He nodded. "We'd known each other all through high school, but didn't want to get married too young. So we waited. Maybe we waited too long."

  His voice had an edge to it. Was he trying to tell her something? Had they waited too long? "Most people don't stay together when they start out that young." Midu wanted him to realize that she and Kyle were different. He'd been almost twenty-eight when he started working with her, and she'd been twenty-six.

  "Probably, but sometimes, you can let a moment pass, can't you? And then you can't get it back."

  Crap! Not what she wanted to hear. She decided to change the subject, but while he was in the mood to talk, she was dying to hear more about his past. "You surely met other girls after Terri left you. It was eight years until you moved here."

  He shrugged. "I dated, but nothing serious. I was looking for a fresh start when I came to Emerald Hills."

  "Did you find it?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

  He sighed. "I thought I did. Now I'm not sure."

  Even worse. "You're so nice, so wonderful, any girl would want you." She grinned. I want you, but she couldn't say it. What if he didn't want to hear it? What if those words drove him away? Maybe a hint? "And I'm the lucky person who has you as a partner."

  "A business partner." He stressed the word business. She felt like a balloon was deflating. The energy ebbed out of her. So did most thoughts of hope.

  She gave herself a small shake. Time to regroup. "Let's call it a day. Want to stay for supper?"

  He started to the door and reached for his coat. "Not tonight. I have plans."

  "Can't they wait until after you eat?"

  "I'll probably be leaving early for the next few days. Don't worry about cooking for me. I'll grab something in town."

  She pressed her lips together to keep her thoughts to herself. Would he be taking Lynn to Nancy's Restaurant again tonight? She followed him to his truck. "Will you be here tomorrow?"

  "There's work to do, isn't there?"

  She nodded.

  "See you in the morning then." He started his pickup.

  Midu fretted on her walk back to the house. The day hadn't gone as she'd hoped it would. By the time she changed into her comfy clothes, she was in a foul mood. She made herself a quick, cold meat sandwich and settled on the couch. Nothing on TV interested her, so she reached for her Kindle. Thankfully, soon, she found herself immersed in Jorg's world as she read Prince of Thorns. Jorg's acid observations of the world and its people fit her mood. At eleven, she pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and stretched out to read. The alarm on her cell phone went off at seven, and she groaned awake. Her back and shoulders were stiff from falling asleep on the couch.

  After a quick shower, she started to arrange her hair in an updo, then thought better of it. What difference did it make? Kyle would wonder what was wrong with her. She grabbed some toast on the way out of the house and grumbled on her chilly walk to the greenhouse. The temperatures were climbing, but the air still felt raw. The snow had melted, forming puddles of water and lots of mud. She threaded her way around them.

  Kyle's pickup was already parked near the door. She wanted to jostle him out of their usual routine somehow, but maybe later. For the moment, she yearned to fall back into their easy companionship. Time to finish the lettuce rows. She gave Kyle the packets
for red, leafy lettuce and she took the spinach seeds. They spent the next two hours, working in silence. This time, though, it didn't feel friendly. It felt like she and Kyle were both harboring secret thoughts that festered inside them. She was relieved when they finished their sections and walked to the house for a quick sandwich.

  They sat across from each other. Kyle would surely make some kind of small talk, but it didn't happen. He grunted most of his answers or gave one or two-word responses when she made an effort. Okay, maybe working was better. At least, they didn't just sit there, uncomfortable. When it was time to return to the greenhouse, Kyle took the arugula seeds and Midu the Bibb lettuce. Little by little, they worked until all the greenhouse beds were finished.

  Midu glanced at her watch. Maybe it was time for another tactic. She gave one of her most beguiling smiles. "We put in a full day. I'm making Kashmiri chicken for supper. Want to stay?"

  Kyle glanced at his watch, too, and shook his head. "Sorry, I told Lynn I'd swing by her place tonight. She put a chuck roast in the oven. I'd better go. She was making a pecan pie for dessert—one of my favorites."

  Midu frowned. So Lynn was a cook. "I thought you liked apple pie."

  "I do, but not as much as pecan." He started for the door. "What's on the agenda tomorrow?"

  "I thought we'd start the other early spring vegetables—peas, carrots, radishes…."

  "Sounds good." Before she finished, he gave a wave and was on his way.

  Midu kicked at an empty seed packet that had fallen. Well, wasn't Lynn just too special? How did she know that Kyle's favorite was pecan pie?

  A tiny voice answered, Maybe she asked him. Had Midu ever asked Kyle what his favorite foods were? She doubted it. When they first met, he was a hired hand and she'd ask him if he wanted to stay for supper. She didn't think of him as a guest, didn't give a thought about what he might have preferred. She just offered whatever she had on hand. And he'd seemed happy with that.

  Midu squirmed. Lynn treated him special. Who wouldn't like that? What did Gino always tell her? "Don't settle for cheap shoes." No, not that--he ran a shoe shop. He said that to everyone. He told her, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach." But Gino was Italian. And now that she thought about it, he did almost all of the cooking for Evelyn and Bridey, so what did he know?

  She sighed. Obviously, food wasn't a sure-fire answer, but it couldn't hurt to put forth some effort. She tried to remember. What were Kyle's favories? He usually ate whatever she made and complimented it, but was he just being polite? He didn't like to call attention to himself, but now she wish he'd have said something.

  She thought about the July Fourth carry-in at the town park each year. Kyle always looked forward to Nancy's potato salad, and he'd buy barbecued ribs from one of the food stands at night. She'd never made either one of those, but they couldn't be that hard, could they? She went online and looked up recipes. Doomed. She was doomed. There were more barbecue recipes than people who lived in Emerald Hills and just about as many versions of potato salad. How could she be sure she made his favorite kinds?

  Maybe he'd notice that she made an effort, and that would be enough. She drove to the grocery store and bought everything she needed. She spent the rest of the night cooking. Ribs needed two hours in the oven, and potato salad took a while to make, too. She even simmered homemade barbecue sauce ahead of time, just in case. And while that cooked, she made the Kashmiri chicken.

  She went to bed that night with a smile on her lips. Kyle would know she'd broken tradition and appreciate it.

  They worked in the far greenhouse the next day. Midu carried containers of the chicken with her for them to have for lunch. Kyle looked surprised when she brought a picnic basket with her.

  For the first time ever, she felt self-conscious around him. "I had lots of leftovers last night," she said. "We might as well use them up."

  He didn't argue. When it was lunch time, he watched her unload the containers of food, wrapped in newspapers and foil to keep them warm, and settled on a stool across from hers at their cramped work table. "I should have told you ahead of time that I wouldn't be around for suppers. I didn't think about how much food you'd waste, eating by yourself."

  She forced a smile. "It won't go to waste if we eat it for lunch. Can you stay for supper tonight? I made something special."

  He frowned. "What did you make?"

  Trying to keep the smugness out of her voice, she said, "Barbecued ribs and potato salad."

  He stared. "You went to a lot of bother. You usually have me grill for you in the summer."

  Midu wasn't sure how to answer. Did she tell him that she wanted to impress him? Would he like that or would it aggravate him? She shrugged. "I made these in the oven. It was too messy outside to grill, but I got hungry for them."

  "You?" He wasn't buying it. "I've never seen you eat a rib."

  "There's always a first time."

  "Have you ever made potato salad before?" It sounded like an accusation, like he suspected she was trying to poison him.

  She raised her chin. "I can read a recipe."

  He laughed, and a smile blossomed inside her. She loved the sound of Kyle's laughter. "I'm game. I'll call Lynn and let her know I can't make it tonight."

  The smile sagged. "Are you going to be spending lots of nights at her place?" The words didn't come out like she'd intended them to. They sounded wrong.

  His eyebrows rose. "Probably. I'm going to stay on for as long as it takes."

  It? What it? Installing her cupboards…or more? Midu sighed. "So I shouldn't count on you for supper for a while?"

  He finished his lunch and resealed the plastic container she'd brought it in. "Maybe we should take a break for a while. We've lived in each others' pockets for so long, maybe it's time to change our routine."

  She choked on the rice she just swallowed. He had to stand up and pat her on the back, and she had to drink half of her bottle of water to get herself back together again.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "Fine." But she wasn't. She felt like a jigsaw puzzle where someone switched around all of the pieces and nothing quite fit.

  He nodded. "I'll help you pack the lunch things up, then let's finish up here. I'll take the rows of peas if you take the radishes."

  Seeds. Who gave a damn? Her thoughts ground to a halt. She did!

  They spent the rest of the afternoon, working. Midu was careful to envision each, little seed pushing its head above the soil and thriving. When they finished, Midu trudged to the house to put the ribs in the oven to warm, then she hurried back to another greenhouse to help Kyle. They were starting eggplants and squash in here. They stopped at five, and Kyle followed her to the farmhouse for supper.

  When they opened the front door, the aroma of barbeque filled the rooms.

  Kyle inhaled deeply. "Boy, that smells good." He went to the kitchen and began setting the table.

  "The potato salad's in the refrigerator," Midu told him. She added green beans to a skillet to sauté. She couldn't help it. She added a touch of garlic and curry, too. At the last minute, she went to the pantry and came back with a chocolate cake on a pedestal.

  Kyle blinked. "Cake too?"

  "Chocolate's your favorite, isn't it?"

  He looked sheepish. "It's right after carrot cake."

  Midu felt her happy bubble sag. "Let me guess. Lynn made that for you."

  He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I've eaten a lot of desserts lately."

  "I can't eat the whole thing myself." She glared at the cake.

  "No need to." He visibly made himself rally. "I always have room for chocolate."

  He worked too hard on the save for her to ruin it. She motioned to his plate. "Let's eat."

  Kyle bit into the potato salad and gave a quick nod of approval, but she'd noticed his first look of surprise. "Good stuff."

  She tasted it, too. "It's not like Nancy's."

  "Hers has boiled eggs in it," he said.<
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  She poked at her food. "Hers has more flavor."

  "It needs salt." He shook a healthy amount on his potatoes.

  She grimaced. She silently watched as he picked up a rib and bit into the meat. "It's falling off the bone," he said. "Really tender."

  She tried hers. Not too bad. Not as good as the Smoke Pit's, but not too shabby, either. Her shoulders relaxed. The potato salad might be bland, but the rest of the meal was decent.

  Kyle made an effort to make small talk. He told her that his mother had called him last night. His parents were going to travel to Oregon this summer. "They want to see Crater Lake."

  "What about your brother?" she asked. "How's he doing?"

  Kyle hesitated. "He and his wife are expecting. They'll have a little boy in late Fall."

  Midu almost dropped her fork. So that's what had started this. Kyle's brother was younger than he was. He'd married two years ago, and now he was going to have a child. Kyle must feel like he'd been left behind.

  Kyle looked at her, his expression suddenly serious. "Do you ever want children?"

  She stared. "I haven't really thought about it."

  "You're turning thirty soon, aren't you?" Kyle never asked questions that were this direct, this personal.

  She put a hand to her throat, feeling threatened. "I need to meet someone and get married before I worry about kids."

  "Are you feeling anxious about that?" he asked. "Thinking maybe it's time?"

  "Are you?"

  "Yeah, I am." He didn't look away, but held her gaze.

  She sucked in her breath, nervous. If he was going to tell her that Lynn was a likely prospect, she didn't want to hear it. "From what I've heard about your parents, they're probably excited about having a grandchild."

  It was a cop out, she knew. Kyle knew it, too. He grimaced before answering. "Yeah, Mom went on and on about it." He concentrated on his food. "I like whatever you did with the green beans."

  They were heading to safe territory again. How many times had they done that? And was it always her fault? No wonder Kyle was tired of her. She squared her shoulders. "Do you want kids?"

  He looked up again. "I'm two years older than you are, so yeah. I'm ready. I don't want to be too old to enjoy them."