Bridget Anderson - Something About You

“I can just use my hands if you have some place I can wash them afterwards.”

“Aw, I’d hate for you to do that, but it’s not like gloves are going to protect that pretty white T-shirt of yours anyway,” she offered with a sly smile.

“Not to worry,” he said quickly, picking up on her joke. “I’ve got plenty more.”

She smiled. “Of course you do.”

“Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty and learning everything there is to know about organic gardening. You did say you offer a hands-on approach, correct?”

The way his brows rose with enthusiasm made Kyla laugh. “It would take years to teach you everything I know, and this is only a ninety minute workshop. How about I focus on the importance of good soil for now?”

Miles stripped the tight gloves off and laid them on the table as he gave Kyla another one of his charming smiles that sent her pulse racing again. “I’m all yours,” he said.

Kyla quickly fanned herself as beads of sweat formed across her forehead. She had to turn away from him. “Okay, let’s get started.”

One of the most important segments of the workshop was for the group to be able to distinguish between soil and dirt. She briefly explained why you get rid of dirt, but preserve soil. She also detailed what soil means to farmers. Then she walked around to see who could tell the difference.

Miles had a handful of each when Kyla walked over to him. She asked him the same question she’d asked everyone else. “You can tell the difference, can’t you?” He looked comfortable getting his hands dirty, but she couldn’t say the same for Brandon and Trey, who’d barely touched their samples.

“Sure...the dirt’s brown, and the soil’s black.” He gave her a smile that said he was pleased with himself.

Kyla shook her head. “There’s more to it than that. The soil is an ecosystem of other organisms.” She reached over and took a handful of the soil in front of Miles and held it up. “If you build the perfect soil, your plants will grow and thrive. There’s an art to soil building.”

Miles dropped the hand full of dirt and held the hand full of soil under hers to catch the soil as she poured it from her hand into his. He gently brushed the remaining remnants of soil from her palm with his fingers. His hands swallowed Kyla’s. She wasn’t prepared for the shiver that ran down her spine and splintered through her body.

“So, do you think I can learn this art?” he asked.

She quickly pulled her hands away and brushed them together. “Sure you can.” She cleared her throat and fought hard not to bite her lip, thus displaying how flustered he’d just made her. “I give a full-day workshop on soil building that you can sign up for. We cover everything from composting to manures, mulching, mushrooms and teas.” She recognized the change in pitch of her voice and the fact that she was rambling, so she shut up.

“Tea?” Miles asked.

“Yes, you can fertilize your garden with tea.” Why had Kyla found herself spending more time with Miles than anyone else, yet again?

She quickly realized the rest of the group was standing around brushing soil from their gloves and waiting for her to tell them what to do next. She caught Ben’s eye and motioned for him to start collecting the gloves. “Excuse me, but it’s time to start wrapping up.”

She stepped away from Miles and returned to the head of the class. After thanking everyone for giving her ninety minutes of their day, she passed out brochures detailing her other workshops.

Miles stood off to the side of her, holding out his hands. “You know, I could use that place to wash my hands now.”

“Oh, Mr. Parker, I forgot, I’m sorry. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you where you can clean up.”

“Right behind you,” he said.

They walked up the path toward the back of the house in a leisurely fashion, neither seeming to be in a hurry.

“The tour and the workshop have been amazing so far,” Miles said. “I like the working farm concept. I was chatting with a few of the guests, and this is the couple in green’s second visit.”

“We get a lot of repeat business,” Kyla replied as she glanced over at Miles, who licked his lips and smiled. She quickly focused back on the path ahead of them. “Some couples spend every anniversary here. The freshness of the food and baked goods keep them coming back for more.”

“So, tell me, what is it you do all day when you’re not picking vegetables and building soil?”

Kyla took a deep breath and forced her eyes to stay on the path, and not on Miles. “Well, when I’m not working on my dissertation, I help with marketing and running the farm’s office. I’ve helped arrange monthly specials, like Friday night potlucks, and the B and B celebrates just about everything. I handle most of the social media, also.”

“Potlucks? At a B and B?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Sure. The Coleman House is not your typical B and B. During potlucks, people bring food from neighboring farms. It’s a real community event. Everyone gets involved. It’s fun and organic.”

Miles laughed. “That much I gathered.”

Once they reached the barn behind the house, Kyla pointed to the inside back corner where Rollin had installed a small vanity made of repurposed material.

Miles washed his hands. “I like this setup back here. It’s nice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a sink in a barn before.”

“Rollin’s wife had him put it in. I think they used to spend a lot of time out here. Before the farm expanded, there was only the house and this barn. The sink he crafted from an old metal bucket. The handle of the bucket was drilled into the wall with a hand towel hanging from it. I don’t know where the old mirror came from above the sink.”

He dried his hands on the towel before joining her. “You sound like a busy woman. When do you find time to work on your PhD? Which is pretty impressive by itself, I might add.”

Kyla stifled a grin. “Thank you. My studies and the program have taken over my life. When I’m not working, I’m studying. But I’m not complaining. I believe this is what I was put on this earth to do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who knew so much about minerals, organic matter and how soil filters water to keep it clean.”

Kyla smiled. “You were listening?”

“To your every word.” Miles tilted his head and smiled at Kyla.

Damn, there’s that smile of his again! She blushed while her stomach did a series of backflips. She was used to guests being intrigued by her work, but this level of interest from a celebrity she was not used to, nor her response to his attention. And he kept staring at her, which made her even more self-conscious and puzzled.

“Well, I hope you learned something that will benefit your company.” She led the way out of the barn.

“I learned that Professor Abraham was right. You know a lot about organic farming, and you’re a great teacher. I like your style.”

“Thank you again. You’re dishing out so many compliments, I’m not sure my head is going to fit under the gazebo when I get back.”

Before he could respond, his cell phone rang.

“Excuse me. I need to take this.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, Glenda,” Miles said as he stepped away.

Unexpectedly, Kyla wondered if Glenda was his girlfriend. From what she remembered, he dated starlets from California to New York, nothing but high-profile models and A-list actresses, of course. She continued to walk down the path and back to the group.

Most of the people had left, but a few had hung back, waiting to speak to her. She answered some questions before Miles returned. His brother and friend waited for him outside the gazebo.