She glanced at him and straightened her shoulders. “He’s my new foreman.”
Julius looked at her with as much surprise as the aunts.
“He ran his family’s farm in Oklahoma,” Lorna continued, “and has also worked at establishments along both coasts as well as several in between. He has a wealth of experience.”
Birdy beamed up at him. Eve glared. He smiled, gave her a wink, too.
“I was just showing Mr. Holt his quarters.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Lorna,” Eve snapped. “Your husband already threw away enough of your money—”
“God save his soul,” Birdy interjected.
Eve snorted. “Too late for that. It’s bad enough your husband squandered as much of your trust fund as possible. Now you’re trying to finish the job by throwing the rest away on this sinking ship—”
“You should hear what they’re saying in town, dear.” Birdy’s expression softened with sympathy. “It’s quite upsetting.”
“I know what they’re saying in town. That I’ve gone off the deep end. ‘Loony Lorna.’ ‘Lorna the Loon.”’
Birdy glanced at her sister, then back at her niece, the distress in her eyes confirming Lorna’s claims. Julius saw Lorna’s smile stiffen. Up until that moment, he might even have agreed with the town’s assessment. But, until that moment, he’d never seen above that tense smile, pain so deep in those vulnerable gray-green eyes. Until that moment, he’d also never been a foreman before. Foreman. Even at seven an hour, he liked the sound of it.
“Actually, ladies,” he said, “Mrs. O’Reilly’s—”
“Lord, not that name.” Eve turned to Lorna. “I thought you were going to go back to using the family name?”
Lorna said nothing. She was watching Julius, waiting to see what he was about to say.
“Mrs. O’Reilly’s decision,” Julius began again, “to run this farm was a wise investment.”
Eve snorted. Birdy looked at Julius with her bright eyes. He squatted down to the new grass, pressed it to the ground. “Springs back up.” He looked at the women. “Rich, moist, class-one soil. Fed first by the waters that left us that creek that splits the land, that pond in the lower field. Good irrigation sources. A little time, hard work and innovative planting…” He straightened to his remarkable height and released his killer smile. “In five years, our yields will be the envy of every other farmer around.”
“Humph,” Eve huffed. “The way farmers around here are trying to sell out to contractors, there won’t be any left in five years.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’ll be here. Now, if it’s all right with you, Mrs. O’Reilly, and if you ladies will excuse me—” Julius tipped his absent cap “—I’ll get started inspecting the equipment.”
The women watched him as he headed to the buildings.
“I bet you could play tiddlywinks on that chassis,” Birdy observed.
“Bernadette,” Eve scolded as Lorna genuinely grinned for the first time in what seemed a long spell.
Eve turned to her niece. “Lorna, don’t you pay no mind what the gossips say in town. The entire incident was more excitement than most of these chattering fools around here will see in a lifetime.”
“I’m glad I’ve done the community a service then.”
“Now, there’s no need for a sharp tongue. And not everyone thinks you’re off your trolley, but how can others even express their concern when you’re hiding out here?”
“I’m not hiding out here.”
“Of course you are,” Eve insisted. “I don’t care how many gaudy outfits you wear as if spitting at any offers of sympathy. And land almighty, child, what were you thinking with those shutters?”
“I don’t want sympathy,” Lorna said quietly.
Eve eyed her niece. “‘The meek shall inherit the earth,’ Lorna. And you should make an appointment with Doc Stevenson, have him check you for color blindness if we can get you back into town.”
“I have no intention of staying out of town. In fact, I’m driving in tomorrow for groceries and a few other things.”
“Thatta girl,” Birdy urged. “You walk down Main Street, head high, strutting your stuff. Who cares what they say? What happened wasn’t your fault.”
Lorna’s grin was long gone. “Yes, it was, Aunt Birdy.”
“Nonsense. You were the victim in this entire debacle.”
Lorna cringed. “I let myself be a victim.”
“Enough babbling.” Eve waved her hand. “The bottom line is this has gone far enough. It’s time for you to come home.”
Lorna turned to her aunt. Past Eve rose the white house, once so plain and unadorned, but now distinct. Not far were the sturdy trees that would hang heavy with fruit at summer’s end. She had land. She rested her hand on her abdomen. She had life.
And, now thanks to her impulsive announcement, she also had an employee—an irritating, provoking, wisecracking charmer who probably wouldn’t stay any longer than to earn enough for a night of tall drinks and easy women. Yet, as of three minutes ago, she’d had someone on her side for the first time since she decided to live her life by her rules—not her family’s.
She stretched her arms out as if to embrace all around her. “I am home, Aunties.” For the first time, the words were real.
Eve threw up her hands. “Headstrong. Just like your father.”
Lorna laid a hand on her aunt’s arm. “Just like my father’s sister.”
Birdy agreed with an appreciative laugh. Eve scowled at both of them.
“Come.” Lorna linked her arms through theirs. “Let me fix you a cup of tea and you can tell me what other news there is besides my mental instability.”
Eve tsked with disapproval, but she watched her niece with worry.
Lorna squeezed her arm. “Don’t fret, Aunt Eve. I’m fine.”
“We can’t help ourselves, Lorna. You’re our little girl,” Birdy appealed. “We’re scared for you.”
She pulled her other aunt close. “I’m scared too, Aunt Birdy. But for the first time in a long time, I feel…” Lorna tipped her head back, inhaled. “I feel like I’m breathing. Breathing deep.”
Birdy looked at Lorna with bright eyes.
Aunt Eve snorted. “Foolishness. Farming. You’re not a farmer.”
“Truth is, Aunt Eve, I’m not sure who or
