Page 3 of Pick Your Spot

She could start again. She just didn’t want to. Jay’s farm suited her. The soil wasn’t alive yet, but it would be after a lot more effort.

Which she’d better get back to doing. Her muscles ached, but it was a good ache from hard work. According to Jay, hard work cured everything.

Since Jay’s passing she’d buried her grief into her job, hoping the new owners would keep her on.

She dragged the dead branch over to the compost pile and left it on the edge. Her body wasn’t tall or strong enough to toss it on top until she’d chopped it up, but at least it would start the composting process with its buddies.

Her dream of talking Jay into building a top-of-the-line composting facility wasn’t dead yet. The new owners might be progressive thinkers. People she could convince of the power of worm poop. People who would want a Worminator.

Laughing at herself, Thea checked out the nearest compost section and used her long pole to move things around. A facility would be so much better. It would do the stirring compost needed. Quicker. More consistent and reliable.

Any hopes of making Jay’s place a success lay in regenerative farming. Good compost was an enormous part of that. Helping the soil thrive was the key.

It took a few moments for the whistling to register in Thea’s brain. She was used to working alone. Being alone. Well, alone except for the birds, the bees, and the dog, but he was nowhere in sight today.

The ATV’s motor had always announced Jay’s presence. And he certainly hadn’t whistled upbeat songs like this person.

A song that tickled her brain.

Was this the new owner? Jay’s family. Or an intruder?

The song was from a musical. Something she’d heard at one of her foster homes. The kids had been into Broadway and one of them had auditioned for Annie while she’d lived with them.

Annie. That was it. The person was whistling ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ from the musical.

Would that be an intruder’s choice? Probably not the choice for most thieves or serial killers.

Which made her realize she didn’t have her phone with her. Not that it would help. She wasn’t sure if an emergency call required Wi-Fi. The electricity hadn’t been cut off after Jay’s death, but the Wi-Fi had disappeared. She only used her phone for research and had dropped the habit of carrying it with her.

So calling 911 was out of the question. Thea’s only weapon was the stick she held. And the compost. Even the most hardened of criminals wouldn’t likely follow her if she had to leap into the compost.

The whistling approached, and she wondered if she should announce herself. If it was the new owner, she should. But announcing herself to a criminal wasn’t wise.

Before she could decide on a course of action, she spotted movement through the trees. A man. She studied him as he neared. He hadn’t seen her yet, and she didn’t move to draw his attention.

Tall. Strong. Ball cap. Jeans and a padded flannel jacket against the chill of the spring air. His attention was on the world around him. Trees, ground, sky.

He finished the song and started whistling another. ‘Tomorrow.’ Another one fromAnnie. The man liked his Broadway.

He angled closer to her direction, and she studied his profile. Strong features. Handsome. A little thrill chased itself across her skin. Very handsome.

Then he smiled up into a tree. “Hello there, my friend. Don’t like my choice of song? Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Definitely not a serial killer. Or a criminal. She’d bet her best boots that most criminals didn’t stop to chat with songbirds. Still, she wished the dog would arrive from wherever he’d wandered.

Time to announce her presence before he thoughtshewas the serial killer. “Hello there.”

The man didn’t so much as flinch, which wasn’t something Thea could have accomplished.

He turned to face her, and he was even more striking than she’d imagined. Rugged face with eyebrows raised high, clearly surprised to see her there. “Hello.”

For an awkward moment, they studied each other. He didn’t look as wary as she felt, but that was probably because she sensed he was always prepared. Always ready to take life by the horns and wrestle it into submission. She could use some of that.

Faking confidence, she nodded at him. “I’m Thea Zimmer.”

He nodded but didn’t close the distance. “I’m Knox. Knox Malssum.”

Not a serial killer, then. Although since Jay had never mentioned him, she supposed it could be possible. Instead of rolling her eyes at herself, she nodded back. “Jay’s family, then.”

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