Farmed and Dangerous Read Online Free PDF

glanced at the time before she stuck the phone in her pocket and pulled her mitten back on. Jake had been sweet to her much of the time. He excelled as a chef. They had a strong attraction to each other. But a volatile temper and unpredictable reactions were not what she wanted from a partner. She hoped he could get over her.
    But right now, if she didn’t return to the farm and get changed, she’d never get all the food together and delivered to Moran Manor in time. She used a pole to lift the ski out of the water. She lined both up on the path toward home and clicked her boot into the left binding. She put the toe of her right boot into the binding, her toes numbing in the ice water that had seeped inside, but the boot wouldn’t click in. First the ski slipped on the snow. Then she realized stream water had frozen inside the binding. She scraped it out with the pole’s tip and tried again. The boot would not attach.
    She swore again. What a time for her old bindings to give way. She had to get back home. She clicked the left binding open, releasing her boot, and hoisted the skis and poles on her shoulder. Heading for home, she tramped along the trail, in the tracks, her right foot barely sensate, her feet sinking into the path with each step. Which ruined the ski tracks, but it couldn’t be helped. The snow next to the path was so deep, it would mean even more exertion.
    When she cleared the woods, she paused to catch her breath. A nearly silent whoosh sounded above her, and she caught a shadow moving on the snow. She darted her gaze to the sky. The great horned owl flew along the border of the trees, its powerful wings beating slowly, quietly. A mouse struggled, the last movements of its life, in the predator’s powerful talons.

Chapter 3
    C am glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall when she made it back to the house. Eleven o’clock. She pressed Lucinda DaSilva’s number. “If you could come over right away to help me, I’ll owe you big-time.” She disconnected after Lucinda said she would be over. Less than three hours to harvest several of the ingredients, pull together the rest from storage, and deliver it all to the cook at Moran Manor.
    She pulled off her pants and socks, despite still feeling sweaty from the exertion of the hike home. Her foot was red from the ice water, so she rubbed it with bare hands until it regained feeling. At least it didn’t show the yellow-white color of frostbite. Her knee ached a bit, and her hip would have a big bruise on it tomorrow, but overall the health inventory was positive. She donned dry pants, thick wool socks, and her snow boots, then downed a glass of water and grabbed a muffin. The combination of the exercise and the fresh, cold air had worked its usual magic. She felt calm and energized, like she could meet whatever the world brought, even falling into a creek and breaking a binding.
    As she headed for the barn, an old blue Civic pulled into the drive. Lucinda climbed out, wearing a yellow down jacket, jeans, and sturdy boots.
    â€œFazendeira, ” Lucinda called out, using the Portuguese word for farmer, her nickname for Cam. “I’m here.”
    â€œThanks for coming.” Cam set her hands on her hips and smiled at the Brazilian, her friend and favorite volunteer. “You’re rescuing me.”
    Lucinda waved a hand encased in a rainbow-striped glove. “Now that I got a job as a librarian, I miss working on the farm.”
    â€œI’m glad you’re not cleaning houses anymore, but I miss working with you, too. How’s the job going?”
    â€œThose private school teenagers think they’re a little bit entitled. But they’re smart, mostly, and the headmaster likes what I’m doing. So far.” She pulled a multicolored knit hat a little farther down on her mass of black curls. “What’s the chore list for today? I can give you two hours, until I have to go in and work