Chapter 154 Chapter 154

Chapter 154 Chapter 154
Talon’s POV

"Finished, the last batch last night," she said, leaning back against the counter with a look of pure satisfaction. "The main Soil plot for the tomatoes look absolutely stunning and the one down by the cree is even better”
"Sounds familiar," I said with a slight grin. "Wasn’t that what you said when you set up your lab."
"Yes but somehow the quality got better," she teased, setting the plates down at the dining table. We sat down and ate while the rain kept pounding against the roof. No rush, no calls, no fires to put out.

"Mr. Gable called while you were outside," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. I paused with my fork halfway up. "Let me guess. The tomato plants for Tuesday?"
"That, and his Martha made fresh muffins," she laughed. "He said if we're late, he's eating our share."
"We'll be there at nine," I said. "I'm not letting him steal my breakfast."
She smiled, reaching across the table to lay her hand over mine, her wedding ring catching the overhead light. "I can't wait to get back into the dirt next week. Getting those tomato starts into the greenhouse is going to feel great." she said.

"It's already looking good out there," I said, flipping my hand over to lock my fingers with hers.
"We made it out, Talon," she said softly.
"We did," I said, leaning across the table to kiss her. Outside, the rain kept falling, soaking deep into the mud and feeding whatever was coming up next. Inside, we just stayed right where we were.

Kira's POV

The heavy rain from Friday finally cleared out by Saturday afternoon, leaving behind a clear blue sky and a cold wind that blew away the rest of the clouds. By Sunday morning, the land looked totally different. The lower pastures had already stopped looking like a sea of mud and were starting to dry out under the sun. Little shoots of green grass were poking up through the dirt, and wild daffodil stems were starting to show near the trees. I was sitting at the dining table around nine, with my laptop pushed aside so I could write down our garden plans in the master ledger. The fireplace still had a few embers glowing from earlier, and I had the window cracked open to let in the cold, fresh air. The front door clicked open, and heavy work boots hit the mat in the mudroom.

Talon walked into the kitchen carrying a crate full of tools, water valves, and tubing from the lower greenhouse. He looked good, his hair was a little messy from the wind, wearing his heavy flannel work shirt. He set the crate by the island, pulled off his gloves, and poured himself a cup of coffee before coming over to stand behind my chair. He didn't say anything right away. He just leaned down, rested his chin on my shoulder, and wrapped his arms around my waist while he looked over my notes.
"Looking at all these neat columns," he said against my neck, "you'd think we were planning an attack instead of planting tomatoes and peppers."

"You have to be exact," I said, turning my head to kiss his jawline. "If we don't plan the rows right, bugs will eat the zucchini before we get a single one."
"Fair point," he said with a quiet laugh, tightening his grip on me. "I trust your strategy. If you can get us through analyzing the soil and finding the right spot for everything then you can handle some garden bugs."
"Definitely," I said, setting my pen down so I could turn around in his lap and face him. I put my hands on his chest and looked up at him. "Speaking of plans, Mr. Gable called while you were out fixing the water lines."

He raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Confirming Tuesday morning, or making sure we're getting those muffins?" he asked.
"Both," I said, laughing. "And he volunteered us to bring three dozen zucchini muffins to the town potluck next Saturday."
"Using his wife's baking against us," he said, shaking his head. "He knows we can't say no to a potluck if there are baked goods involved."
"He's good at maneuvering people," I said. "We got totally played."

"Well," he said, sliding his hands down to hold mine, "if we're going to act like normal neighbors at a potluck, we better get those tomato plants on Tuesday."
"Agreed," I said, squeezing his hands. We spent the rest of the morning sitting together, drinking coffee and talking through our project list for the week building new raised beds behind the barn and putting solar panels on the shed roof. By eleven, it was warm enough outside to walk down to the greenhouse. We didn't bother checking security screens or locking every door behind us. We just grabbed each other's hands and walked down the path.

The air smelled like wet dirt and pine, and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. When we got to the timber greenhouse, Talon pushed the door open, letting out a wave of warm, humid air. The shelves inside were set up and ready for the soil trays we were picking up on Tuesday. Talon pulled me inside and shut the door against the wind. He leaned back against the wood frame and pulled me in close against his chest.
"Six months ago," he said, looking down at me, "we were stuck in that sterile safe house , watching screens and hoping my stepmother didn't lose it and kill us."
I reached up, touching his jawline. "I remember. I hated you at that moment, I hated that I got dragged into the whole mess."

"And now?" he asked softly.
"Now," I smiled, "we're standing in a greenhouse in upstate New York, arguing over zucchini, and I feel like we have everything."
He pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck for a second.
"We built our own thing, Kira," he said quietly. "Nobody can mess with us here."
"I know," I said, looking back up at him. He didn't say anything else. He just leaned down and kissed me.

We spent the rest of the day walking around the property lines, checking the fences, looking at the drainage ditches, and watching the hawks fly over the woods. No alerts, no old drama, no past catching up to us. Just the sound of our boots on the ground and the sun warming everything up.
When the sky started turning dark purple and orange over the ridge, we walked back up the driveway toward the house.

Talon's POV

Mid-April hit upstate New York with a sudden, violent shift in the weather. A massive cold front came screaming straight down from Canada, scouring the Oakridge valley with gale-force winds that rattled the windows and tested every single structural joint on our property.