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gone to pot since the fire.”

“It was in bad shape,” Tina confirmed. “A few of the apple trees might be salvageable, but mostly, they’ll need to start fresh.”

“So, Matt Winston is the man on your mind?” Lottie mused. “I always did think he was a handsome young buck. Takes after his grandfather. That man inspired some lusty thoughts in many a young girl’s head, let me tell you. Including mine.”

“TMI, Gram.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t always this old, you know. The body might be weak, but the spirit is still willing, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know,” Tina said, unwilling to wade too deeply into those waters. “To answer your question, no, I wasn’t thinking of Matt, though I will admit, he probably inspires at least as many lusty thoughts as his grandfather did.”

“That’s my girl,” Lottie said approvingly. “But if it wasn’t him, who was it?”

“His name is Cole Watson, but he goes by Doc.”

“Dr. Watson. Cute. Proceed.”

“He’s one of the Sanctuary partners, but he told me he was a medic in the service. I’m guessing he was a Navy SEAL, like Matt.”

“Hmm,” Lottie hummed. “Tell me more.”

“There’s not much to tell. We only spoke for a few minutes.”

“And yet he seems to have made quite an impression on you.”

“He held my coat for me and opened my door.”

“A gentleman then.”

Yes, he is. “He told me he thought running the orchards was impressive.”

“It is, especially for you.”

But Doc didn’t know about that, and if Tina had her way, he never would. It was hard enough dealing with the misogynistic views still held by many in their small community. Sadly, most of the men she knew had trouble accepting the fact that a woman could run a successful operation in a typically male-dominated field, her own brothers included. She told her grandmother as much.

Lottie sighed. “It takes a strong, confident man to accept and support a strong, confident woman.”

“I think Doc is that. But he’s not over-the-top macho, you know? He comes across as laid-back and easygoing.”

“He sounds wonderful, dear, but how does he make you feel between the legs?”

Tina nearly did a spit take. “Gram!”

“Don’t Gram me. It’s a valid question. If he doesn’t do it for you, he’s not going to do it for you, if you know what I mean.”

“Nobody is doing anything to anyone.”

“How else are you going to know if he’s worth your time?”

“I don’t have time for a social life.” Not only did she oversee the Obermacher orchards, but she also ran a successful business of her own. Known simply as The Mill, it was an outlet store specializing in unique orchard-based products, which had been gaining popularity among locals and tourists alike.

“That’s part of your problem,” Lottie said, shaking an arthritic finger at her. “You work too much, and your only social interaction is a weekly dinner with your feeble, old grandmother.”

Tina snorted. Of all the words one could use to describe Lottie Obermacher, feeble wasn’t among them. Feisty? Definitely. Feeble? Never.

“I like having dinner with you. You’re the only person in this family I can spend time with and not want to hit myself in the head with a bag of hammers while doing so. Plus, you have all the good dirt.”

It was true. Lottie lived in the main farmhouse with Rick, Bonnie, and their brood, which meant Lottie was in the center of everything family-related. Gunther and his wife had had the adjacent carriage house completely renovated and lived there while Kiefer had an apartment above the garage. Tina was the outcast, preferring her quiet, quaint caretaker’s cottage, away from the chaos and bedlam of the homestead.

Lottie went on as if Tina hadn’t spoken. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Kate invited me back next Sunday for coffee and mentioned something about dinner.”

“Will your Dr. Watson be there?”

“I suppose.”

“You must go,” Lottie said, nodding emphatically.

“But Sundays are our time.”

“Well, that’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about. You know I love spending time with you, but Mr. O’Farrell has asked me to call on him several times, and I’ve been putting him off. I think I’ve played hard to get long enough.”

“Mr. O’Farrell?” Tina asked, choking again on her iced tea.

“Yes. We’ve been ... corresponding via text for quite some time.”

Tina didn’t know what was more surprising—that her eighty-something grandmother was talking about going out on a date or that she’d been texting said potential beau. “Really?”

“Really. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to drive me down to his place before you go to Sanctuary next Sunday. You can pick me up afterward, and we can compare stud stories over tea and bourbon.”

Tina gaped at her grandmother, waiting for the just kidding that didn’t come. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely. Of course, this must all be done on the QT. You know Bonnie won’t give me a moment’s peace, and, Lord Almighty, that woman is a pain in my wrinkled backside. I’ll keep your confidence as well.”

When Tina raised an eyebrow, Lottie narrowed her eyes and said, “Don’t play innocent with me, dear. If your brothers knew you’d gone to Sanctuary today, they would have raised holy hell by now.”

Lottie wasn’t wrong. While Tina didn’t really care what her brothers thought, she felt it was important to pick her battles. She wanted to explore the possibilities before deciding whether or not waging a war with her siblings was worth it.

“Deal,” Tina agreed. “Now, enough about that. Have you heard any more rumblings about selling off parcels to developers?”

Lottie’s lips turned down at the corners. “Not specifically, no, but something is definitely going on. I overheard Giselle telling Bonnie she was heading into the city—something about needing a new dress for an important dinner.”

Giselle was Gunther’s wife, the socialite in the family. She served on various community boards and made sure her picture was in the Sumneyville Times every week for one thing or another, whether or not she’d actively contributed.

“What important dinner?”

“I don’t know. They clammed up when they realized

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