Organically Yours (Sanctuary #5) - Abbie Zanders Page 0,72

years ago. There was a girl there named Maggie. She was a few years older than me. I think she was their granddaughter.”

Tina had always liked Maggie. They’d bonded almost instantly over an intense dislike of doctors. From what she remembered, Maggie had had her share of health issues, too. Those homeopathic remedies Maggie’s grandmother used to make were just as effective as the medicines the doctors prescribed—plus, they had far fewer side effects.

Her father hadn’t approved, however, and when he discovered where Lottie had been taking Tina on their weekend drives, he had put a stop to it.

“Might be the same one. Callaghan’s her married name,” Doc told her.

“And we’re going to see Maggie because ...”

“Because she might be able to help.”

For a few moments, Tina wondered if Doc had discovered her secret. He was a medic after all, and her symptoms had been flaring as of late. She’d been explaining them away, citing her recent bout with the flu, stress, and long hours, but it was only a matter of time before he figured it out—if he hadn’t already.

“Help how exactly?”

“From what I understand, Maggie was in a similar situation. She almost lost her farm to developers.”

Tina inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Things were going so well with Doc, and she didn’t want to ruin it. Did she really believe he would see her differently if he knew about her autoimmune disease? No, but then again, she hadn’t believed her brothers would lose the farm either.

She would tell Doc everything. Eventually.

“I don’t see how anyone can help at this point.”

He gave her a mysterious Mona Lisa–like smile but said nothing.

Tina didn’t ask again, choosing instead to enjoy the moment. It was a beautiful morning, the drive to Pine Ridge was scenic, and she was with Doc. If he wanted her to listen to what Maggie had to say, she’d listen.

The Flynn farm wasn’t as she remembered it. Some things seemed familiar. There was the traditional, old farmhouse, but it looked to be in much better shape than the last time she’d been there. The once-detached garage was now connected to the main house with a glass-paneled breezeway. Flower boxes adorned the wraparound porch, and the yard looked professionally landscaped.

Like Obermacher property, the land sloped away from the main house in a series of rolling hills and semi-flat plateaus, creating a patchwork of fields. Off in the distance, she heard the comforting purr of powerful farm tractors doing their thing. The thought that she soon might not get to hear those again was a depressing one.

Though twenty-five years had passed, Tina recognized Maggie as soon as she opened the door. Curly dark-red hair, brilliant green eyes, and a smattering of freckles. Time had been kind to Maggie. Unlike years earlier, she was the picture of health.

“Tina Obermacher! It’s been a long time.”

“It sure has,” Tina agreed. “You look fantastic.”

“Thanks! I feel fantastic.”

Tina couldn’t help but wonder if Maggie’s grandmother’s remedies could be credited or if there was some other reason for the change. Either way, she thought it would be rude to ask.

“And you must be Doc,” Maggie said. “Please, come in. Michael is in the kitchen. I just pulled some bear claws out of the oven.”

The delicious aroma of freshly baked pastries filled the foyer. “It smells wonderful.”

“I’ll send some back with you. I always make too many, and heaven knows, I don’t need the temptation,” Maggie said with a laugh.

“Oh, here. I brought you some things from The Mill.” Tina handed her the basket.

“These look amazing!” Maggie said, pulling out a jar of spiked peaches. “I can’t wait to try them. I’ve been meaning to take a trip up there. I’ve heard great things about what you’ve been doing, and I was hoping maybe you’d share some tips. Our pears and apples do well, but from what I’ve heard, our stone fruits don’t compare to yours.”

“Of course,” Tina said, wondering if this was the reason for their impromptu visit.

Perhaps if she shared some of her knowledge with Maggie, Maggie would apply it to her orchards and be willing to sell enough of her yield with Tina to keep The Mill running.

“How are your grandparents?” Maggie asked as she led them into a large, cheery kitchen. “Are they still around?”

“My grandmother is. My grandfather passed quite a few years ago now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. They’re good people. Your grandmother was a firecracker from what I remember.”

“She still is,” Tina told her, hoping Maggie didn’t inquire about

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