Local Foods 02 'Til Dirt Do Us Part by Edith Maxwell

Author:Edith Maxwell [Maxwell, Edith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780758284655
Google: cczxBwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0758284640
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2014-01-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Cam worked here and there alongside the volunteers for the next couple of hours, being careful not to bend down. She sat for a rest every twenty minutes or so. She found herself looking over her shoulder at odd noises and startling at the least thing. She wished she’d told Pete about Preston’s disappearance.

Her feelings were at odds with the weather. It had turned out to be a sunny day with a mild breeze, perfect for ripening the pumpkins and winter squashes where they lay in the field and for sweetening up the apples. Deep purple eggplants and reddening peppers hung from branches, although the first frost would spell their end. She set one younger shareholder to sift through the potato beds to be sure they hadn’t missed any tubers at harvest time the week before. Lucinda and another volunteer took on the final weeding in the lettuce and greens beds.

Cam joined Diane Weaver in her assigned task of picking up windfall apples. “I know it’s a bit backbreaking, but I can take them over to Cider Valley Farm and put them through their press,” Cam said. “I hate to waste them in the compost if we can get juice from them.”

“No problem. It’s great to be out in the fresh air.”

“What do you do for work, Diane? I know a lot of people can’t get away on a weekday morning to work on a farm.”

Diane was silent for a moment. She picked up another handful of apples and laid them in the wooden box Cam had supplied her with earlier. “I’m a consultant. I can fix my own hours, within reason.” She stood to stretch.

“What do you consult about?”

“I work for the government.” Diane bent to pick up more apples from the ground and did not elaborate.

Cam let the subject drop. She was grateful for the free labor and didn’t really care what her volunteers’ day jobs were. She watched Diane’s eyes fix on a field beyond and to the left of the small apple orchard. Cam followed the trajectory to see Wes Ames bent over a row of Brussels sprouts.

“Have you known Wes long?” Cam asked, remembering the look Wes had shot Diane on Saturday.

Diane paused again. “I don’t actually know him. I’ve heard him speak about the Old Town Hall at meetings, that’s all.”

“When he was leaving Saturday, he gave you kind of a dirty look.”

“Oh, we might have been on opposite sides of an issue once or twice.” Diane’s laugh seemed forced. “Nothing personal. Has he been a subscriber long?”

“This is my first year of having a CSA, actually. But his wife, Felicity, signed them up early last winter, and they’ve been active members. He told me she’s away helping her sister right now.”

“Interesting.”

Cam started to work alongside Diane until she realized bending down to pick up apples was not the best thing for her head. She spied Alexandra at the compost piles and strolled in that direction instead.

“Thanks once again for tackling compost duty,” Cam said to Alexandra.

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