“Are the goats much work?”
“A ton, at least by my standards. They have to be milked twice a day, for starters. Mom never cared about having them earn their keep, but the artisan goat’s milk soaps Maggie and Olivia are trying out could at least help with expenses.”
“Do you have any pets?” Noah asked as he followed Phoebe toward the screened-in back porch.
She shook her head. “Not a one. I get my pet fix here. Mom has two cats and the laziest dog on the planet, too. She’s probably lying in the sun somewhere. My mother’s dog, not my mother.” Phoebe laughed again, visibly more relaxed. “Do you have pets?”
“No pets.” He heard wind chimes tinkling on the porch in the slight breeze. “It’s a lovely spot, Phoebe.”
“My parents built the house together. It’s got its quirks but it’s warm in winter and the roof doesn’t leak.”
A young woman with purple-black hair emerged from the six-foot-tall sunflowers. She carried a basket on one arm and waved as she stepped over a low wood-and-chicken-wire fence. “I swear I never want to see another tomato, but I say the same thing at this time every year.” She smiled at Noah. “You must be Noah Kendrick. Hi, I’m Ruby O’Dunn, Phoebe’s sister.”
Noah returned her smile. Her natural hair color, he guessed, was a shade of red. She wore a tank top, a long black skirt and sandals, and her basket was filled with fat, ripe tomatoes. “Nice to meet you, Ruby.”
“My sister Ava’s in the kitchen. We’re canning tomatoes. Mom’s convinced we’ll finish tonight but not a chance.” Ruby set her basket on a porch step and stood up straight, frowning at Phoebe. “You look awfully serious. What’s up?”
“Did a man name Julius Hartley show up here?”
“No. Why? Do you know him? Who is he?”
“I ran into him in town,” Phoebe said. “We need to talk about him.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Ruby was obviously intrigued but scooped up her basket again. “I’ll be in the kitchen dealing with these babies. They’re only the beginning.” She grinned at Noah. “A friend of mine from New York was up here earlier this summer and said we reminded her of the Weasleys in Harry Potter. Red hair and cozy madhouse.”
Phoebe laughed. “If only we were wizards, too.”
“No kidding. Then Ava and I could wave our magic wands and these tomatoes would be canned and in the cupboard in a flash. See you guys later. Noah, nice meeting you.”
As Phoebe led him across the lawn, past the fenced-in gardens, he thought Ruby’s New York friend might have a point. The O’Dunn place was ramshackle and homey, radiating a chaotic warmth and good cheer that he suspected was more accidental than intentional.
They came to a small barn with an attached pen, miniature goats prancing in the grass. “They’re Nigerian Dwarf goats,” Phoebe said. “Cute, aren’t they?”
Noah had never considered goats cute. In fact, he’d never considered goats at all.
A woman came out of the shed, shutting the door behind her. Elly O’Dunn, he assumed. She was younger than he’d expected, barely in her fifties, with wild graying light red hair and warm blue eyes. “Phoebe! I didn’t know you were here. I was just tidying up the stalls before we start tackling the tomatoes.”
Phoebe introduced Noah to her mother, whose bubbly energy was a sharp contrast to her eldest daughter’s quieter nature. “Mom, has a man named Julius Hartley been in touch with you?”
Elly nodded, no hint of alarm or suspicion. “He stopped by the town offices and asked if I was interested in selling any of the goats. You know it’s something I’ve been thinking about, since we have about three or four too many. So I told him, and he said he’d be by after I got out of work. I haven’t seen him. I don’t think he was really serious about the goats.”
“Did he say why he was in town?” Noah asked.
“No, but I was under the impression he knows people here.” Elly came through a gate, shutting and latching it behind her as three goats with shiny brown coats nudged the fence. “Don’t let the size of my little friends here fool you. They’re very adept at getting out of confinement. They’ll eat anything. Well, I’ll be up in the garden if you need me.”
Elly headed up toward the house. Phoebe glanced at Noah. “My mother and her goats and tomatoes and such are a bit different from what you’re used to, I’m sure,” she said.
He smiled. “They don’t allow goats where I live.”
“My mother got two goats to keep her company after Dad died. I was commuting to college and Ava and Ruby were still at home, but they had their own things going on.”
“Were the goats her idea?”