Deborah Mello - Sweet Stallion

* * *

Patrick had called her twice, and twice Naomi hadn’t answered, though he’d left messages in her voice mail both times. He was starting to feel as if he was being snubbed and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. The third time wasn’t going to be a charm for her or anyone. As he pulled his car onto the gravel drive of Norris Farms, he was determined to alter that, to change her mind and ease any doubt she might be having about going out with him.

The property wasn’t at all what he’d anticipated. The driveway led to a picturesque farmhouse with a wide front porch and colorful awnings. Baskets of fruits and vegetables were available for sale, and there was a quiet bustling energy that seemed to vibrate through the early-evening air. As he stepped out of his car, a robust woman with jet-black, waist-long hair captured in two ponytails waved at him, her smile warm and inviting.

“¡Hola, senor! If you are here to buy the vegetables, we’ll be closing in a few minutes!”

Patrick smiled back. “Thank you. But I was looking for Naomi Stallion? Do you by chance know where I might find her?”

The woman nodded eagerly and pointed toward the fields behind the house. “Senorita Naomi is there!” she said.

Following where she indicated, Patrick soon found himself knee-deep in a field of strawberries. The succulent fruit was in varying degrees of ripeness, some bulging red and others varying shades of green. Their sweet aroma scented the air and he found himself smiling. Toward the back of the patch Naomi was bent at the waist, picking the reddest berries and depositing them in a small wooden basket. She wore denim jeans that were fitted through the hips and buttocks, with bell-bottom legs, and a peasant top edged in tan lace. Her dreadlocks were pulled back and captured beneath a slouchy, crocheted beanie. The view suddenly had him salivating, the round of her backside beckoning his attention. His eyes widened as he watched her, in awe at how quickly she was snapping the berries from their stems.

She suddenly stood upright, turned and gasped, clearly startled by the sight of him. “Patrick!”

“Naomi, hey! I was looking for you.” He smiled sheepishly.

She clutched the basket of berries tightly between her hands. “I don’t... What are you...?” she stammered, obviously trying to make sense of the moment.

“I would have phoned,” he said. “But since you aren’t taking my calls I figured I would just make the ride out here and try to catch up with you.”

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks warming with color. “Sorry about that. I planned to call you back, but I’ve had a lot going on and...well...” Her eyes darted back and forth as he stared at her intently, amusement seeping from his stare. Naomi felt a wave of heat sweep rapidly through her core, and perspiration suddenly beaded in places moisture had no business being.

She finally let out a loud sigh. “This isn’t going to work,” she said finally, turning back to the row of strawberries she’d been picking. “I’m sorry. I should have just told you that dinner wasn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?” He moved in beside her, reaching to pick a few berries, which he dropped into the container she was holding.

She quickly glanced at him, then away. He was staring at her again, and the look he was giving her felt like a torch intent on doing bodily harm...in a very good way. She drew a swift lungful of air and held it, trying to cool the swell of heat threatening to combust her from the inside out.

He chuckled, still eyeing her as she pondered a response.

“So, this is pretty impressive.”

“This?”

“Norris Farms. You’ve got quite an operation here.”

“Thank you. It’s been a blessing, and with the new land, I can expand our operations and open a community food co-op. I’m very excited about that.”

Patrick’s eyes widened as he dropped another handful of strawberries into her basket, moving along the row of vines with her. “A co-op? Really? Will it be open enrollment or private?”

Naomi nodded. “Open. And there’s a definite need for one. I already have a lengthy list of prospective members. My farm in Arizona has been very successful and I hope to duplicate that here.”

“You have a farm in Arizona, too?”

Naomi snickered softly. “I do. I’m actually based in Arizona, running my first food co-op there.”

“So, you don’t run this farm?”

“I have a wonderful manager who handles the day-to-day operation. I fly in at least once a month, or as needed, to handle financial matters, some operational issues, and to ensure that things are running smoothly. I’ll probably be here more as we start readying the new acreage for planting.”

“So where does all the produce you harvest go?”

“The food produced here is locally sourced by several restaurants, some of the schools and a few grocery stores. We also donate a percentage to the shelters and food banks. The co-op will allow us to do even more to help the community.”

Patrick grinned, noting the rising enthusiasm in her voice. Light shimmered in her eyes, and the more she talked about her business, the more excited she became. Her face was animated, gleaming with energy. Her hands fluttered between berry picking and storytelling, and she relaxed for the first time since they’d met. And so did he, feeling a level of comfort that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

The woman at the front drew Naomi’s attention, waving her arms above her head from across the way. Naomi stole a quick glance at the watch on her wrist. “Oh, shucks! It’s past closing and I didn’t give Marcella her check!” she exclaimed. She pushed the basket into Patrick’s hands and headed in that direction. She tossed a look over her shoulder, calling out to him, “Grab my bag, please, and meet me at the house!”

She didn’t bother to wait for a response, but sprinted across the field. Patrick found himself grinning broadly as he watched her, more intrigued than he’d ever imagined being. He grabbed the cloth sack that rested a few yards from where they’d been standing, and after slinging it over his shoulder, picked one last handful of ripe berries for the basket and followed her.

When he stepped inside the farmhouse, the two were just finishing their business. The woman named Marcella gave him a bright smile as she relieved him of his basket of fruit and disappeared toward the back. Minutes later she returned, passing him a large sampling of the fruit and some vegetables in a grocery bag.

“Thank you,” he said, then shifted his gaze in Naomi’s direction, his eyes questioning.

She gave him a smile. “You earned it,” she said. “The beauty of a co-op is that you’ll be able to buy produce at a substantially reduced rate, or even work for it if you want to get your hands dirty. I hope you’ll consider becoming a member.”

He reached into the bag, grabbed a berry and took a bite. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” he said. “I’m going to look forward to it. Especially if you’re here.”

Naomi felt herself blushing, and found herself shifting nervously as Marcella sauntered to her car, waving goodbye as the two of them stood watching. It was suddenly too quiet, with just soft strains of music coming from the sound system.

“I owe you an apology,” Naomi said at last, turning to look him in the eye. “I should have called you back. That was rude of me, and my mother raised me better than that.”

Patrick met the look she was giving him with one of his own. Something had shifted between them, with Naomi feeling more like a good friend than a casual acquaintance he’d just met. “I hope you’ll make it up to me by letting me take you to that dinner.”