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TRACI JOINED THE TEAM of growers in the fields before her coffee had taken full effect. It was a long weekend and time to finish what she had started. She had to trust her gut this time, and like Myra said, it never led her in the wrong direction. Everyone had shared their opinions about things at Bent Willow as news of Rowena Garrett’s passing filtered through Keeferton. But she knew that there was something more to it and was determined to find out. She needed this one thing to make sense, somehow, before she let go of everything and everyone.
“What don’t get carried away in bushel baskets and crates will get turned under by the tiller. We don’t waste anything,” Moe explained to her. “All the stakes, irrigation lines and mulch gotta be taken up and stored away.”
She could see the unspoken grief in everyone’s eyes as they busied themselves in concert. Miss Rowena’s presence could still be felt, reminding everyone that there was hard work to do and plenty of it. The sun had not risen fully, and they had already been in the field for two hours before she arrived. The sweet corn was stacked, and the stalks cut down. They shook the tomato cages loose from the vines and stored them inside the shed. They wrapped Georgia collards in thick elastic bands and set them in tubs of ice water. Sarah wrote on notecards with prices for the produce. Zucchini squash, slicing and pickling cucumbers, oxblood radishes, sweet potatoes, Blue Lake green beans, serrano peppers, purple carrots, curly kale, rainbow swiss chard, yellow onions, Savoy cabbage, and every variety of tomato that anyone could imagine. Traci sprayed bug repellent on her arms and legs, wrapped an apron around her waist, and started pulling up stakes.
“Don’t pick them herbs yet,” Moe shouted at a couple of children helping with the harvest. “They’ll be wilted and wasted before we’re ready to open up.”
Soon it would be time to set up the market stand and prepare for the crowds that would come to taste and buy. Reverend McMoultry had let several of the women use the church kitchen and basement for cooking and staging the wares. Moe was unpacking those boxes of baked goods and setting them under the shade trees. All hands were in motion, picking, packing, wrapping sheets over tables and tying down the corners. Traci had never seen such unity of purpose in action. She stopped to take it in and tried not to think about how important Bent Willow was to her and the people of it.
She found Milo in the greenhouse brushing off a layer of soil from each of the small red potatoes and tossing them in a box.
“Busy day,” she said joining in.
“Yes,” he said looking up and smiling. “All our work comes down to today. How much do you think we’ll make?”
“I don’t know,” she said trying to match his pace. “You should ask Moe. He’s keeping the books now.”
She touched his shoulder and looked into his eyes.
“Milo, I want you to ...” she cleared her throat.
“What?”
“I know it’s hard to figure things out sometimes,” she said, starting over.
“You mean like what happened to Miss Rowena?”
“Yes, like that. And how I’ve tried to be there for you lately,” she said stumbling over her words. “And ...”
“And what?”
“If for some reason you can’t find me,” she said looking into his eyes, “I’m just saying, trust your gut and stay out of trouble. Okay?”
She walked outside and took a deep breath, forcing down her emotions. I can do this, she thought, I have to. Someone handed her a bottle of cool water. She wiped her face and took a sip, then stepped into the crowd forming near the market stand.
Word had spread that no one was allowed to enter the perimeter that surrounded Hazelton House without first checking with Officer Randall Wells who sat alone in his squad car near the kitchen garden. Traci kept an eye on the driveway leading to it. Randall had not spoken to her since he followed her to Empire Row. Although she could not see his eyes under those mirror sunglasses, she could feel him watching her. When she asked him to be present for Market Day at Bent Willow, he responded to her text with a simple “OK”. Oh, how she wanted him to understand the importance of this day. She wanted everything to work out right for everyone. And she needed to be right about Miss Rowena’s killer. This was her only chance to prove it.
