Windrow Garden Read online

  “I thought Sally Windrow hired you. Didn’t you tell me that the last time we talked?”

  “I thought it was a sure thing. I really did. I mean, you know her. Least that’s what you told me before I went out there. Anyway, I didn’t get hired.”

  “Why didn’t she hire you?”

  “I don’t know. I used your name on my application like you suggested. Even told her you’d vouch for me. Doesn’t seem as though you have as much pull with her as you thought.” Doug chuckled in spite of his predicament. He knew that Donald fancied himself a ladies' man. He’d heard rumors that he and the Windrow woman had been seen together.

  Donald frowned at the news. He’d met Sally Windrow last year when she’d come in to re-mortgage the farm to start the restaurant. He’d been concerned then that she might be taking on more fiscal uncertainty than she could handle. She had turned out to be a bright, good-looking woman, and he’d found it hard to refuse her. Besides, the property she’d mortgaged was worth four times what the bank had financed for her. It had been a good risk. She owned one of the most profitable pieces of property in the county. He’d spent months of time, energy, and money getting to know her better. He thought it had been paying off. Now he was not so sure.

  “You mean to say she didn’t hire anyone after Cornweir was injured?” Donald asked uncertainly. Not hiring a replacement for Cornweir didn’t seem like a risk Sally Windrow would take. He’d assumed that with his vouching for Doug, she would hire him. He’d assumed their infrequent dating would keep her interested in him while he could incidentally keep track of events on the farm. He realized he had assumed wrong. That worried him.

  He made a mental note to call her and ask her out again. He was going to step up his interest in her. He had to. She had been difficult to approach, seemingly wearing her widowhood like a shield against his advancements. He had been patient, letting his practiced charm wear her down and, hopefully, win her over. He had been content not to rush or try to push the relationship. He had believed she would be ripe and willing for the picking and choosing in his own sweet time. He had plans for her, for her property, and for his pleasure.

  “Well, who the hell did she hire?” Donald demanded.

  “Shit, I don’t know. But Charlie over at the co-op said it was some woman. Her hired man Jake Grimes was telling them all about it when he was in picking up the seed and feed for the Windrow place.”

  “A woman?”

  “That’s what I said,” Doug insisted, vexed. “Tall woman, good looking, too. If it’s the same one, I saw her at the interview. Uppity sort.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Hell if I know. Can you imagine that, though? I mean, what farmer in their right mind would hire a woman mechanic or a woman for anything else on a farm?” Doug asked, seeing his opportunity to try to place blame for his bad luck on anything but himself.

  “She hiring any extra hands?” Donald asked.

  “How should I know?”

  “You better make it your business to know, and I’ll make it worth your while,” Donald suggested. He knew that what he didn’t know could hurt. He intended to use Doug to keep tabs on Sally and the workings of the farm while his other plans came to fruition. Without an informant like Doug, he would have to resort to other measures. Bank loan or no, she was a prize catch. Dating her was a social coup. He couldn’t afford to let her slip through his fingers now.

  “Like how? I ain’t no field hand. I’m a mechanic. I’m not going to work for no damned minimum wage!” Doug said, leaning closer to the desk and glancing at the glaring red ink on his overdrawn checks.

  “Yes, you will, or you’ll see the inside of the county jail up close and personal. It’s simple. This is the time of year they do a bit of extra hiring. Part-time stuff mostly. You go back, get on, and stay on. I’ll take care of these checks. If you come back with some information and maybe do a few extra little things for me if I should ask, I might see a way to get that car of yours paid off.”

  “Why would you do that, Mr. Bradley?” Doug inquired, wondering at the nature of the banker’s sudden generosity.

  “That’s between me and the bank. What I want from you is to know who she hired and anything else that goes on out there. For that, and whatever else needs to be done, you’ll get to stay out of jail. You only have one option: Take work out there as a field hand or cozy up to other lowlife while you serve time for bad checks.”

  “What if she won’t hire me?” Doug stretched in panic.

  “I’ll work it out with her. I’ve got a little influence,” Donald said. But a lot less right now than I thought, he admitted to himself. “In the meantime, and until you and I are square with your attempted defrauding of the bank, I’ll keep these checks.”

  “That’s blackmail,” Doug protested.

  “No, it’s not. It’s a choice you get to make. Having someone out there on my side is very important to me. Not being in jail sounds like it’s important to you. Think of it as a contract for mutual benefit.” Donald clasped his hands and waited for Doug’s answer.

  “I still can’t live on minimum wage,” Doug countered.

  “You won’t have to. Ms. Windrow has housing for hired hands out there. One part’s set up to house temporaries. Just tell her you’ll need a place to stay.” Donald’s mind was whirling with ideas and details. The game plan was beginning to take on form without having to think much about it at all. He mentally kicked himself for not seeing before how much he really needed to have someone out there on the farm. He’d tended to every other detail of a new investment. Now he would ensure that nothing happened to the last piece of the puzzle. “Anything would have to be better than that shack you’ve been living in. They get free food out there, too, from what I understand. Hell man, you’ll probably live better than you have in years,” Donald encouraged.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll call her right now. I bet you anything that we can have you out there next week. Or would you rather I call the sheriff?” Donald asked as he reached for the phone.

  Doug’s eyes widened into stark white hoops as he sputtered his reply. “All right. All right. I’ll do it, you son of a bitch.”

  “Be nice, Doug. And you better change your language for real. I hear Ms. Windrow doesn’t approve of that sort of talk anywhere around her daughter,” Donald said paternally as he grinned at the wilted Doug. Doug nodded in dejected acceptance as Donald dialed the phone.

  “She gonna take your word just to hire me like that?”

  “I think so. Particularly if you’re just a temporary. If you’d read the want ads in the paper this morning, you’d know she was hiring again. But then, if you’d done that we might not have had the opportunity to be partners.”

  At eleven-thirty Donald could see that his day had taken on a much rosier glow. Doug Harkner was on his way to a grateful Sally Windrow who had been having difficulty finding part-time temporary help. He glanced at his watch and saw that he had plenty of time to get to his other meeting with the waiting county road engineer.

  = Chapter 5 =

  Planting, Pruning, & Grafting

  Tree and shrub planting. The best time to plant or graft trees is while they are still dormant. Dormancy usually occurs from late October to early April. Spring planting yields the best results and keeps the tree from suffering from winter winds or frost damage. Make sure the ground is frost free before starting.

  Make sure the roots are kept moist. The planting site should be large enough to allow the roots to spread out and quickly take support in the earth. When you plant, you might want to carry a pair of sharp pruning shears to remove any damaged or excessively long, spindly roots and broken branches. Roots should never be folded to force a plant into the planting site. Such force will shock the plant and retard its growth.

  Pack soil firmly about the roots to eliminate air pockets that might cause the fine root hairs to dry out. If the soil is dry, apply water immediately after planting. Build a little eart
hen saucer at the base of the plant to help it hold the necessary water when it is applied. Never tamp wet soil; it will cake, compress, and starve the root system. Use only slow-release fertilizers on your new plants. Don’t over-fertilize; it could burn the tree or cause it to grow willowy

  Pruning. The natural form of a plant is beautiful. It should be enjoyed and preserved. It is sometimes necessary, however; to help manage a plant’s growth. Pruning should be done during the late winter or early spring. Pruning involves trimming unnecessary or unhealthy growth to benefit the remaining portions of the plant. Among the best reasons to prune are the following: to remove dead or injured portions; to ensure light and air in the interior growth mass of the plant; to encourage root growth and prevent dieback of branches; to rehabilitate plants that have suffered from neglect, poor growing conditions, or disease; and to stimulate the growth of larger flowers and fruit. At planting time (but not until the plant has been sufficiently established) and during the first few years, pruning is a training function to aid the plant in setting up a strong framework. Caution: Too much pruning will stunt even the hardiest tree.

  Grafting. Grafting creates a successful union of two diverse but related living things in such a way that the nutrients will connect and nourish each portion. Both the stock and scion are wounded before they are matched. It is from these bound wounds that a mutual callus forms. The interweaving calluses establish the successful union of the graft.

  One aim of grafting, aside from the creation of a sturdy new plant, is to assist plants in adapting to adverse climates and soils. Each benefits and each receives strength from the other. Compatibility is essential for grafting. Compatibility can be established by studying similarity in vigor and particular physiology.

  Graft surfaces must hold together and be protected from trauma. There are a variety of grafting methods. Whip or tongue, splice or die, cleft and notch, wedge or bridge, are most common. Whip or tongue is used when the stocks are just about equal. Two cuts are made. The first is long and smooth, cut from below to above, and about one-and-one-half-inch in length. The scion (grafted portion) is prepared before with cuts of exactly the same size and shape. The two portions must be helped to hold together; unless there is a perfect fit. Use twine, tape, or wax to keep the graft from drying out. Tongue grafts are usually tied with adhesive tape and later removed when the new growth begins in earnest.

  Other types of grafting are more complicated. Remember that grafting is somewhat traumatic. Care should be taken to nurture, treat, and maintain the grafting site. Time, patience, and sturdy bindings will heal the union and allow an alliance to emerge.

  Groundwork

  On Saturday morning Sally, Gwynn Marian, Jake, and Martha entered the cottage nearest the oldest hay barn for the first time since late fall. They were not surprised to see that an assortment of tiny creatures had used the cottage for a refuge from the frigid winter. Spiders and their webs, mice nests in drawers, and signs that squirrels might have invaded the attic were everywhere. Dust and an overlay of grime pervaded the cottage. They looked at the interior, looked at one another, and shrugged in mutual understanding of the task that lay ahead of them in preparing the space for livability.

  “Well, I sure hope this is worth it,” Martha mumbled as she stood in the short cool interior of the small living room. She was a large robust woman, and cleaning house wasn’t her favorite hobby. Since she’d married Carl ten years ago, she had taken over the care of the plants in the greenhouses, the chickens, and the minor livestock. She liked that. She liked the feel of rich seedling soil in her hands, the care of the creatures' lives she managed for the farm. She didn’t like doing dishes, sweeping, cleaning, or doing laundry. It had been an early complaint of Carl’s. But she reminded him that he had known that when he married her. Carl adjusted. He’d become a fairly good homemaker himself. He had discovered that taking on a few of the extra chores in the house after working in the fields was easier than arguing. He never had been a disagreeable man.

  Sally shouldered by Martha where she’d planted herself at the door. “You can’t expect someone to come to work and have to start by cleaning out this mess, can you?” Sally headed for the small dining area and toward the tinier kitchen and the closet that held the water heater. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll finish,” she advised. “Gwynn, honey, why don’t you start vacuuming in the bedroom?”

  “I’d rather be out riding,” Gwynn Marian mumbled as she kicked at the ancient Hoover upright.

  “We’d all rather be doing something else. But the sooner you get finished, the sooner you’ll be up in the saddle. Get it?” Sally said as she raised a warning eyebrow at Gwynn.

  “Slave labor;" Gwynn Marian mumbled loudly as she dragged the vacuum cleaner toward the bedroom.

  “That’s why we have children,” Martha called to Gwynn and grinned widely at the sagging shoulders of the girl as she disappeared into the bedroom.

  “Don’t tell her stuff like that,” Sally responded, but she couldn’t keep the chuckle out of her voice.

  “What my mama used to tell me. You were raised here. What’d it feel like to you?”

  “Well... still, it’s not the way I want Gwynn Marian to feel,” Sally asserted, remembering how she had sworn she’d never live on a farm again once she got married. Never say never, she reminded herself. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Couldn’t start or end too soon to suit me, either.”

  “Not soon enough,” Martha sighed, resigning herself to the chores.

  Jake had turned the water pipes back on and checked for leaks. At sixty-five he was still nimble, quick, and flexible. Although he would have told anyone who cared to ask he was not as quick or nimble as he once was, his energy seemed to come from his small wiry frame. Whipcord lean, most of his own teeth, and no more bad habits than he could afford, he was a vigorous, aging man, amused by what the world had taught him, and still on the alert for anything else it might have up its sleeve. He favored dark blue bib overalls, plaid shirts, and heavy work boots. The only thing that changed in his clothing for warmer months was the weight of the fabric in his shirts and an absence of a coat.

  Sally fiddled with the water heater, trying to make sure it worked and wouldn’t blow up. As she waited for the gas to flow into the heater; she helped Martha take down the curtains from every window in the small house, fold them, and place them in a laundry basket to take to her apartment for washing.

  “Damn, it’s cold in here.” Martha shivered as she took a bottle of window cleaner and rags out of the box of supplies she had carried into the living room. Her full, long blond hair had been smashed down on her head with a woolen cap. A light winter jacket and insulated jeans covered her body, and her hands were protected in brown jersey gloves. Her wide face reflected the coolness of the unheated interior of the house. Martha’s apple-red cheeks were joined in high color by the tilted red tip of her nose.

  “I can fix that,” Jake said as he strolled through the living room door carrying an armload of wood. The elbows and knees of his clothes were dusted over with spider webs and dirt from under the cottage crawl space. “I thought about starting a fire when y'all came in here earlier; but I plum forgot when I started messing with that water pump.” He dumped the logs in a box by the soapstone and cast-iron stove and began examining the flue. A few minutes later he’d packed the firebox and set the tented logs and tinder on fire with a wooden match.

  “Water heater is working,” Sally said as she came back into the living room. “Say, that looks hopeful,” she cheered when she noticed the flicker of fire through the heavy glass doors of the stove.

  “Does, doesn’t it?” Jake said as he lit his pipe in satisfaction with his own work. “Thing is, it’s pretty naked in here. This sergeant got any furniture or is she gonna sit on the floor?”

  Sally looked around the room, her eyes widening in recognition. “I hadn’t even thought about it. I doubt she does. Traveling usually means do
ing it light. Crap, what are we going to do now?”

  “That’s a joke, right?” Martha asked, turning from a cleaned windowpane.

  “What?”

  “All that stuff... from over in your grandparents' house. We’ve been using that one shed as a storage bin for all kinds of things and furniture for years. Why can’t-”

  “Those are my grandparents' things. Their furniture. I’m not sure if I want to do that,” Sally said uncertainly.

  “What harm would it do? You hired her. I mean, you trust her or not?” Jake asked.

  “It’s not a trust issue,” Sally maintained.

  “Maybe not, but surely you don’t want her to spend money she might not have on furnishing this place? What harm would there be in letting her use those things?” Jake insisted.

  “Well... I suppose they are not doing anyone any good where they are. She doesn’t seem like someone who would abuse someone else’s property, does she?” Sally questioned.

  “She wouldn’t have been able to do that to government property,” Martha added.