LITMIR.BIZ

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all day.”

      “You were always in love with the romantic notion of our cultural heritage.” Javier turned away from his cousin and toward Angie. “The old stories do give me an excellent opening when I’m courting a new woman to my bed.”

      The disgusted sound coming from Estebe made Angie’s lips curve. If anything, this visit had been a great font of information about her sous chef. “So, what’s in season now?”

      “We’ve added a small watermelon to our fields this year. They are just starting to ripen, not like the traditional melon that will be ready in late August. And of course, we’re producing more Roma tomatoes than we have demand for. Those plants just keep on giving fruit. Maybe you would like to see what we have available this week?”

      “That is why we came,” Estebe grumbled.

      Javier just laughed, ignoring the tone, and opened the barn door. “Then come on in. We’re open to the public on Fridays and Saturdays, but the community frowns on us selling on Sunday, so we stay closed.”

      “And being closed lets you go drink on Saturday night without concern,” Estebe added, his tone low.

      Angie wasn’t sure Javier had heard the comment until she saw his face turn to stone for a second, and his eyes narrow toward his cousin. Apparently, there was no love lost between the two men. Just what Angie didn’t need was to stumble into a family feud. She snapped a picture of the display stands, then went over to where the gleaming red tomatoes were set up. Picking one up, she smelled the sweetness before even taking a bite.

      A vision of a fresh marinara sauce—or no, bruschetta with garlic butter on the toasted bread and the tomatoes and roasted peppers on top. She glanced around the rest of the vegetables and found the pepper section. Gleaming green and yellow peppers from jalapeños to sweet banana filled the section. She turned to Estebe and started listing what she wanted and in what quantity, her mind already on the recipes she’d add to Friday’s menu as a special, then depending on the new items’ reception with patrons, she would keep them on until the season changed up or she found something new to highlight.

      She’d almost forgot about the hard feelings between the men as she made arrangements for Javier to deliver to the restaurant tomorrow morning and boxed up a small selection to take home and play with tonight. She’d have to bake some focaccia bread as soon as she got home, but she thought the dish would highlight the ingredients perfectly.

      Angie was still lost in her head as they returned to the Hummer. She let Estebe open her door and then grabbed a notebook and started scribbling notes. As he pulled out of the driveway, he turned down the music. “You were happy with Javier’s selection, then?”

      “Happy? I’m over the moon. It’s what I’ve been looking for, a small farm that focuses on specialty produce. I’m going to open one of the watermelons tonight and see if I can come up with a small salad for the weekend. After I get the bruschetta just right. If you have any ideas, let me know.”

      Estebe smiled then. “I am glad you enjoyed your visit.”

      He turned the music back up and left Angie to work in her notebook, lost in her thoughts about the perfect dish. When they arrived back at the restaurant, Estebe parked behind her car. “I can keep driving if you need more time to work.”

      Angie glanced up from her notes, realizing they were outside the restaurant. A woman passing by on the sidewalk with a Yorkie paused to look at the car and its inhabitants. Angie waved at her and the woman hurried off. Weird. She tucked her notebook into her tote and turned to Estebe. “Thank you so much for the introduction to your cousin and his farm. I’m sure his produce will be a great addition to the menu.”

      This time she didn’t wait for Estebe to open her door. She slid out and unlocked her own car by remote. Before she could grab the produce she’d brought back, Estebe was already standing at the back of her car with the box waiting for her to open the hatchback. He sat the box down in the car and closed the rear door. “Thank you for coming with me. Javier has been asking for an introduction for weeks. He believes he is the only produce farmer in the area.”

      Angie smiled. “It’s good to have a business you want to support. I enjoyed our morning. Thank you for taking me there.”

      “My cousin has many more responsibilities than just the farm. He should take life more seriously.” Estebe looked flustered with his announcement. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “I should be more charitable. I will see you tomorrow.”

      Angie watched as he climbed back into his Hummer and drove slowly away. She realized she didn’t even know where he lived. She’d assumed Boise, but since his cousin was just on the outskirts of River Vista, maybe that wasn’t true.

      As she drove home she thought about the tension between the two men. Family ties. They wrapped you up in emotions you didn’t even know were there. She pushed the thoughts away and instead thought about the dishes she’d create as soon as she arrived home. Food was about family too. And food always had good memories attached.

      Chapter 3

      Someone rapped twice on her door first thing Friday morning. Angie had already fed Mabel and Precious. She set Dom’s breakfast down on the floor and went to see who was visiting. She suspected she’d find Mrs. Potter on the other side, but Ian McNeal stood there with a large pastry bag. “What are you doing here?”

      “Do you have coffee made to go with the donuts? The bakery in the local store makes them fresh each morning. I had to stand in line for a good three minutes.” He walked through the doorway as Angie opened the screen door and set the bag down on the table. Crouching down, he rubbed Dom’s chest. The St. Bernard was beside himself with wiggles. Angie suspected Dom loved Ian almost as much as he did her. “Hey, who’s a good boy?”

      “He’s in trouble with me. He tried to knock Precious’s food bucket out of my hand this morning.” Angie went to the counter and poured a cup of coffee for Ian. He preferred a good Irish breakfast tea, but she noted if she had a pot already made, he’d ask for coffee. “Plates or napkins for the donuts?”

      “Why dirty a plate?” He glanced around the kitchen. “It smells wonderful in here. Have you been creating?”

      Angie refilled her own cup and brought over several napkins. “I’m too easy to read, aren’t I?”

      “Well, I kind of got a call from Missy at the Farm Store.” He took out a donut and offered her one.

      “You have a maple bar in there?” Peering into the bag, she ignored the offered treat and grabbed the one she was craving. It was probably too early in their relationship for him to actually know what kind of donuts she preferred, but at least he came with a good variety. She’d eaten half of the doughy goodness before his words sank in. “How would Missy know I’ve been working on recipes? Does she live out here?”

      He sipped his coffee, obviously considering his words carefully. Finally, he set the cup down. “You’re not going to like this, but it’s part of living in a small town.”

      A pit formed in Angie’s stomach. “Rip off the Band-Aid.”

      Ian shook his head. “I’ve never understood that American saying, but I know what you mean. Missy called me to tell me she saw you getting out of Estebe’s Hummer yesterday and asked if I knew you were stepping out on me.”

      Angie spat out part of the sip of coffee she’d just taken to slow down the sugar rush. “Stepping out on you? Because I rode in a car with another man? What is this, the 1960s?”

      “I told you. Small town.” He handed her a napkin. “When I moved here, because I ordered tea at the diner instead of coffee, there were concerns about what exactly I was doing here, and someone called Allen.”

      “They sent the sheriff over to talk to you because you moved into a small town? What, did they think that everyone had to be born here to like living in River Vista?”

      Ian finished his donut. “Actually, they were more concerned about

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