| |
Tina
Leaving Sanctuary—leaving Doc—was hard, and it wasn’t just because she was dreading what she had to do. She liked his soothing presence and the fact that when she was with him, she didn’t feel so alone.
She wasn’t a damsel in distress, nor would she ever be. But it sure was nice to be able to feel like she could let go and have someone else take the reins for a little while.
Tina stopped at The Mill first. These were the people who she felt closest to, the ones who had been with her the longest and supported her when she first took over the orchards.
As expected, they’d heard the rumblings. She would have given anything to be able to look them in the eye and squash those ugly rumors, but that wasn’t possible. Instead, she did the only thing she could do. She told them the truth. Not the horrible, gory details, but the gist. That Obermacher Farms was in financial straits and would probably be sold to developers sooner rather than later, and when it did, The Mill was going to lose its primary source of fresh produce from which its products were based.
If there was a bright spot, it was that The Mill operated as a separate business entity from the rest of the farm.
Around the time Tina had started applying for patents, she’d tried to talk Gunther into buying the old mill and turning it into a cider mill. She’d seen similar places do well in upstate New York, particularly in the fall, and envisioned Obermachers doing something similar.
He declined.
Rather than be deterred, she became even more determined. A college friend suggested she create her own small business and incorporate. She did, and shortly after, she used her inheritance to buy the old mill and fix it up herself.
At the time, the mill had been in bad shape. Gunther laughed at her business plan, saying that he fully expected to be buying it from her within the year. Tina resolved to prove him wrong.
She got business loans and hired Amish craftsmen to bring the place up to par. She put in sixteen-hour days between the orchards and the mill, using her degrees to grow the highest-quality produce possible and then create superior and one-of-a-kind products.
It had taken nearly five years before Tina was able to pay off the loans and start making a decent profit, but she had done it, and as word spread, the demand for her unique products had grown substantially.
The bad news was, The Mill couldn’t continue to operate without Obermacher Farms providing the produce—at least not at its current capacity. There were other smaller farms in the area she might be able to source from but nothing on the scale she would need. For centuries, Obermachers had been the dominant force in the local fresh-produce industry.
Still, Tina would keep the place up and running and would continue to provide her employees with a paycheck as long as possible. However, she was also honest about what the future might bring and said she wouldn’t blame anyone who wanted to look elsewhere.
After that, Tina drove out to the orchards and had a talk with her crew. That didn’t go nearly as well. The orchards fell under the Obermacher Farms umbrella, which meant that they would be sold along with everything else to whoever bought the land, so there was little Tina could offer them.
Also, since their paychecks came from the OF corporate account, she couldn’t guarantee them a wage like she could her mill workers. They were understandably upset and had lots of questions. How long would Obermacher Farms continue to operate? Could they count on at least one more paycheck? What were they supposed to do once the farm was sold?
Unfortunately, Tina didn’t have answers. The best she could do was promise to keep them informed, and if that wasn’t sufficient, she encouraged them to speak directly with Gunther, who was lying almost as low as Luther these days.
Many of them probably would or already had. Despite the fact that she’d been running the orchards for years, they treated her as if she were simply her brothers’ mouthpiece.
She drove over to the office to let them know she’d addressed her crews and to talk—hopefully more calmly and rationally—about the situation, only to find it locked and dark. Calls to Rick, Gunther, and Kiefer went right to voice mail. She drove up to Rick’s house, but it was her grandmother who greeted her with a warning.
“Watch where you step,” Lottie told her. “There’s broken glass everywhere, and I’m sure as hell not going to clean it up.”
The kitchen looked as if a cyclone had torn through it. Pieces of broken dishes and glasses littered the floor and surfaces. Stains dotted the walls where bottles had been thrown at them.
“What happened?” Tina asked.
“Bonnie and Rick got into it, and things got rather heated, I’m afraid. Probably would have been worse if I hadn’t grabbed your grandfather’s old air gun and threatened to pump BB shot into both their backsides if they didn’t calm down.”
“Where are they now?”
“Bonnie took the kids to her parents’ place in Birch Falls. I don’t know where Friedrich is. Gunther showed up shortly after the fracas, and the two of them took off. Haven’t seen either one of them since, but I did overhear them saying something about trying to find that Renninger boy.”
If anyone knew where to find a snake, it was another snake.
“I don’t think you should be here when Rick gets back, Gram.”
“I’m way ahead of you,” Lottie said, waving toward the back door, where a large quilted bag and a small suitcase sat, waiting.
“Would you like to stay in my cottage?” Tina offered.
“Thank you, dear, but no. You’ve got enough to deal with. Mr. O’Farrell has kindly offered his guest room. In fact, I was just about to call a Zuber.”
“You mean, an Uber?”
“No, I mean, a Zuber. Mr. O’Farrell’s neighbor, Marjorie Zuber, has an enterprising grandson who provides basically the same service but without the corporate overhead.”
Tina knew exactly who Lottie was talking about. “You don’t have to call Tommy. I’ll drive you down, Gram.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I need something constructive to do.” Something that didn’t involve rushing up to Sanctuary and dodging reality in Doc’s arms.
Tina loaded Lottie’s things into the back of her truck and helped Lottie in. Once they were on their way, she asked, “So, this thing with you and Mr. O’Farrell is serious, huh?”
“I like the way I feel when I’m around him,” Lottie told her candidly. “The only other man who made me feel that way was your grandfather, and I’m old and wise enough not to pass up a second chance like that.”
Tina understood exactly how she felt.
“How is our Dr. Watson handling all this drama?” Lottie asked as if reading her mind.
“Very well. He’s incredibly sweet and supportive. Everyone at Sanctuary has been, honestly.”
Lottie patted Tina’s arm. “You deserve a good man to stand beside you, Bertina. He’s a keeper.”
Tina thought so, too. But there was so much going on, and her emotions were running higher than usual. “You know things are bad, don’t you?”
“Yes, I’ve heard enough to get the gist.”
“Are you okay?”
“Okay? No, I’m not okay. What they’ve done ...” Lottie’s voice faded off as she shook her head. “But I’m eighty-six years old. Time is precious, and things are just things. I’m more worried about you.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Your brothers, they’re not going to fare as well. You reap what you sow, and they’ve sown some bad seeds, to be sure.”
Karma. Fate. Destiny. God’s will. Whatever someone called it, it amounted to the same thing.
Tina dropped her grandmother off at Mr. O’Farrell’s and then headed back toward the farm. The urge to return to Sanctuary was strong, but she forced her hands to turn the truck back to the caretaker’s cottage.
She’d already leaned on Doc quite a bit, and her biggest fear was becoming too dependent on anyone. She needed to prove to him—and more importantly, to herself—that she was still a strong, capable woman.
That didn’t mean she didn’t spend hours on the phone with him that night, telling him about her day and asking about his. They made plans to see each other on the weekend, but as Tina curled up alone in her bed that night, the weekend felt very far away.