Free Vintage Ladybug Farm by Donna Ball Page A

safer to let someone who knows what he’s doing serve as agent for the business and handle all the legal documents and finances. I like that lawyer in town, Frank Adams, unless you have somebody else in mind.”
    “No, he’s great. Of course,” added Cici, “Bridget and I are going to be pretty busy the next couple of weeks, but Lindsay can go into town with you to talk to him if you like.”
    Another look from Lindsay, which they ignored.
    “Sounds good. I want to stop by and say hello to Miss Ida Mae before I leave, and then I’d better get on back, but I’ll be in touch. Call me if you think of any questions.”
    “I’ll walk you out,” Lindsay said, deliberately refusing to look at her two friends.
    Bridget and Cici pretended to be absorbed in studying the spreadsheet until the trap door closed behind the couple. Then they looked at each other, grinned, and shared a silent high five.
     
    ~*~
     
    In Ida Mae’s Kitchen
     
    ~*~
     
    Dominic felt like a school boy again the minute he stepped into that kitchen, and he suspected he looked like one, too: wiping his feet on the mat, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, just standing there grinning and taking in the smells and sights and tastes of home.
    “Miss Ida Mae,” he said, “I declare you are looking fine. And this place smells like every dream of my faraway childhood.”
    She straightened up from removing a tray of cookies from the oven, giving him a glance and a small grunt of dismissal. “You always was full of words, boy.”
    He came forward and took her face in both his hands, kissing her on each cheek. She not only tolerated the affection, but flushed with it and slapped him playfully on the arm with her dishtowel as she stepped away. “You are your papa’s son, and that’s a fact.”
    “Whoever would have guessed that after all these years my path would lead me back here, following in his footsteps, eh?” He unzipped his jacket and sat at the work island, watching her plate the cookies.
    “I would,” she said flatly. “You staying for lunch?”
    He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I just came to talk to the ladies and look over the winery. It looks like we might be making wine as early as this summer.”
    “Is that a fact?” It was impossible to tell from her tone whether she was skeptical or matter of fact. She set the plate of cookies on the counter before him, the warm moist flavor so fresh from the oven that it practically left rivulets of steam in the air as it drifted toward his face. “You sure it wouldn’t be anything else that brings you sniffing around here, are you?”
    He fought back a grin with only partial success as he broke off a corner of a cookie and popped it into his mouth. “Some things,” he admitted, “are irresistible.”
    Ida Mae took two onions and three potatoes from the vegetable bin and brought them to the cutting board. Dominic took another cookie, a whole one this time.
    “An odd situation, isn’t it?” he observed. “Three city women buying a big old house like this out here in the country. But then, I guess they’re not ordinary women.”
    Ida Mae brought the sharp edge of a chef’s knife down on the end of an onion, severing it with a clank. She peeled away the skin and began to rock the knife back and forth, producing neat, even slices.
    “That young one of Miss Cici’s, Lori, is as sharp as a tack. And Lindsay has done a world of wonder with Noah. I’m as proud to work beside him as any man I’ve ever known, and that’s no small thing when you consider where he came from. You have to have a big heart to reach out to an orphan boy like that and make him your own. She’s quite a woman.”
    Ida Mae turned the onion slices over and began a deft chopping motion. Dominic pretended to watch her.
    “Not,” he added casually, “that they’re not all fine women. But …” He took his time selecting another cookie. “Supposing a man was to take a particular interest in courting just one