Free A Second Harvest by Eli Easton Page B

to Florida together. She loves it down there.” David looked at Christie thoughtfully. “Did you go to college?”
    “Art school. I’m a graphic designer.”
    “Oh? Well, I can see you’re very creative in the kitchen.” David’s gaze lingered on the earrings in Christie’s ear. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met a real artist before.”
    Christie laughed. “You make it sound like I’m an aardvark or something. A person can be artistic in all sorts of ways.”
    “I s’pose. And you look nothing like an aardvark.” David smiled wryly, and Christie thought, He has a sense of humor after all. “What do you do as a graphic designer?”
    Christie talked about his job for the advertising agency. David wanted to see some of Christie’s work, so he pulled out his phone and showed his sketch of the field with the cow and farmer. “This is a campaign for a dairy company.”
    David took the phone and looked at it for a long moment while Christie ate his food. “I like the way you did the soil, with all the lines and rocks and beetles. Well, it’s all good. You’re very talented.”
    For some reason the compliment meant a lot to Christie. Maybe it was because David didn’t seem like the type who said things he didn’t mean. “Thanks. You might recognize the barn as yours. I had to guess some of the details. I can’t see it very well from my house.”
    David handed back the phone. “You’re welcome to come over anytime if you need to sketch something close up.”
    “That wouldn’t be intrusive?”
    “Nah. What are neighbors for?”
    “That would be great. So what all do you raise here on the farm?”
    David shifted in his chair, sighed. “This farm’s a hundred acres, and I lease another hundred down the road. I raise conventional crops—corn, wheat, soy, alfalfa. I have a small dairy herd too. I sell the milk to an organic co-op. Then I run a chemical-free CSA with my daughter Amy during the summer. We grow the vegetables and herbs for that in a small field by the barn.”
    “By conventional crops you mean nonorganic?”
    “Yup.”
    “Why not organic?”
    David shook his head with a grimace. “Money. A farmer’s always got to be looking into what’s selling and adapt to that. Raising organic crops is very labor intensive, and it takes years to get certified too. It’s a big investment for no extra return until you’ve got the official paperwork. On the other hand, organic dairy is not that hard to convert to and earns twice that of nonorganic. We switched over six years ago.”
    “Sounds complicated.”
    David looked embarrassed. “Well. I could never do what you do. I meant what I said. You’re welcome to sketch whatever you like here. And you don’t have to always bring food either, though this is a wonderful meal.” He hesitated. Then his gaze met Christie’s head-on. “Thank you for offering to cook something special like this. I want you to know I appreciate it.”
    There was so much warmth in his eyes it was like being handed gratitude in a brightly wrapped gift box. All the excuses and platitudes that came into Christie’s mind felt trivial by comparison. It’s fun for me. I like having help paying for groceries. I like having company. I like your company. Damn it, he so did.He shouldn’t, but he did. Hell. He was crushing on David Fisher.
    He mumbled a “you’re welcome.” And for a while, they focused on their food.
     
     
    THE INDIAN food was excellent—better than David remembered from his few restaurant visits. Sharing the meal with Christie was nicer than he expected, too. Very nice.
    There was a hot feeling in David’s chest that grew over the course of the meal and took him by surprise. He genuinely liked Christie Landon. He didn’t normally take to people so easily. Even at church he tended to keep to himself. He found himself wondering about it as he savored the meal.
    He was flattered, if he were honest with himself. Christie was a smart, interesting, and