Page 22 of The Floral Arrangement

“Mmm. Yes.” I pursed my lips.

Of course Olivia would like the damn cows. Given everything else I’d had going on, I’d made no progress rehoming them, but I was still hoping to see the last of them. Their constant mooing near my study window was a distraction I didn’t need, and whenever I ventured out the back of the house, they stared at me. If they were expecting more entertainment in the style of my car-crushing mishap, they would be sorely disappointed.Perhaps my neighbor who raised cattle would take them.

“Well, there’s no mistaking what this section is.” Fred chuckled, breaking me out of my thoughts. We’d reached the flower fields, where rows of yellow daffodils were blooming.

“Yes, isn’t it gorgeous.” Olivia leaned forward, her shoulder brushing against mine.

“What are those ones?” Fred pointed at the rows of green shoots behind the daffodils.

Damn.It was the first question I couldn’t answer.It doesn’t really matter since I’m proposing to get rid of them all anyway.The business plan Fred had received hadn’t included the proposal to lease the flower fields. I’d added that in after I’d realized how dire the farm’s financial situation was.Now was an opportune time to tell him of the change of plans. “I’m actually planning to le?—”

“They’re tulips,” Olivia interjected. “And farther on, we have ranunculus and anemones. Roz, honey, let’s stop here so we can show Fred around.”

I gritted my teeth. I had no intention of stopping. What was the point of giving Fred a tour of something that was going to be trampled by cows?

But Fred was already putting his hat on, clearly eager to explore.

Olivia shot me a sweet smile, but there was a steely glint in her eyes. Something clicked in my mind. Was she here because she didn’t want me to get rid of the flowers?Mom had mentioned she’d bought dahlias off Olivia. Could she be one of the florists Red Tractor Farm supplied? I recalled the customer list Jim had given me included a flower shop in Sapphire Springs. Could that be Olivia’s?

I reluctantly stopped the truck, and we hopped out.

Olivia led Fred down a small path between two rows of bright flowers, talking animatedly about heirloom varieties and sustainable farming practices. There was only room to walk single file, so I was stuck behind Fred, unable to get a word in. I stomped after him. Olivia singing the praises of the farm stand and café was fine, but I really didn’t need her raving about how wonderful all these flowers were. And I was sure Fred couldn’t care less about sustainability. I shot a withering glare at a particularly perky-looking daffodil, trying to distract myself from how perky Olivia’s butt looked up ahead. While the floral pattern on her pants was horrendous, it clung to her curves in all the right places. I shook off the thought. We were almost at the end of the row now. Once we reached it, I could lead Fred and Olivia back to the truck and drive on to the Christmas trees.

“We also have some gorgeous tulips flowering in the greenhouse, which we’d love to show you,” Olivia said as we walked out of the field. She kept talking quickly. It was almost like she could sense that if she paused, I’d try to move us on. “It’s powered by geothermal energy, which means it can produce flowers all year round using a sustainable energy source. Did you know the flower industry is rife with questionable environmental practices? Huge quantities of flowers are flown into the US from overseas each year, fossil fuels are used to heat greenhouses, synthetic fertilizers and pesticides are widespread and packaging waste contributes to landfills.” Olivia’s eyes flashed again. “We’re really passionate about sustainable farming, aren’t we, babe?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let’s not bore Fred with the details. I’m sure he’s more interested in the bottom line than our carbon footprint.”

“Actually, sustainability has become a passion of mine in recent years, ever since I visited Yosemite and saw the shrinking glaciers. I got solar panels installed on my house in the Hamptons and bought an electric car last year. Got to protect our planet for future generations,” Fred said.

I blinked, my mind racing. Did Fred actually care about this stuff? I held back a sigh. Yet again, Olivia had put me in a position where if I disagreed with her or explained what my plans for the flower fields were, it would be extremely awkward.

I took a fortifying breath. When we got back to the farmhouse, I’d fill Fred in on my updated business plan, and hopefully he’d be so impressed with my financial projections he’d forget that the flowers he’d been admiring would be munched to oblivion by my neighbors’ cattle.

“Well, why don’t you show me this amazing greenhouse?” Fred asked.

Olivia nodded, grinning, and practically bounced across to the large greenhouse. I trudged after her.

The warm, sweetly scented, humid air hit us as Olivia pushed open the glass door, and we stepped inside. Bright sunlight filtered through the glass panes, illuminating the rows of flowers. I fought the urge to screw up my nose.Ugh.

“These two rows are ranunculus, then over there we have anemones and freesias—that’s what the gorgeous smell is,” Olivia said, pointing for our benefit.

Fred peered down at the ground. “You mentioned it was powered by geothermal energy? How does that work?”

Olivia’s face brightened even further. “We have thousands of feet of piping under the ground to capture and store warm air, and fans that pull the air through the pipes into the greenhouse. Not only is it a sustainable energy source, but it also means that we’re able to provide flower shops with locally grown flowers all year round, so they aren’t forced to import them.”

“That’s fantastic,” Fred said, scanning the greenhouse.

Olivia grinned. “Yes, it’s just one of the ways we try to minimize our carbon footprint here at Red Tractor Farm. We also use other sustainable farming practices, such as reduced tillage and avoiding synthetic pesticides and herbicides.”

“You seem to know a lot about the farm,” Fred said, giving Olivia an assessing look.

“I used to work here—first at the café and then helping the previous owner, Jim, with the flowers—off and on during my twenties. I now run the flower shop in Sapphire Springs and the farm is my primary supplier. I love this place and I’m so happy Roz loves it too.” Olivia patted me on the back, sending my skin tingling.

So I was right. Olivia was the owner of the flower shop in Sapphire Springs, which meant she had a vested interest in the future of the flower fields. The pieces were starting to fall into place.

“Oh, how wonderful.” Fred turned to me. “Roz, you must be so pleased Olivia shares your passion for the farm.”

I hummed noncommittally and glanced at my watch. “Let’s head over to the Christmas trees, and then we can show you the orchards on the way back.” Not only did I want Fred away from the flowers, but their cloying scent was starting to give me a headache.

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