Andromeda Clark here! Um, I mean Andromeda Hartley. Ben and I finally tied the knot and we're just loving married life here in Greenburg, Tennessee. We built a nice farmhouse on old Mrs. Flanders' property and her ever-present gigantic watermelon patch is right across the driveway. I have no idea who takes the trouble to plant them, but everyone in Greenburg knows about the patch and someone's carried on the deceased woman's tradition.
Tennessee River Soaps is thriving and our latest specialty scent is watermelon. I figured with the upcoming Chamber of Commerce sponsored watermelon festival, I should be supportive since I'm on the publicity committee. Ben's boss, Honey Haggerty, roped me into that one. Besides, there's something so summery about watermelon, and I can't get away from the fruit. Momma's trying to teach me how to make pickled watermelon rind and can preserves, too. But it's been hard finding the time or inclination to go across our driveway to the watermelon patch after what happened.
I should explain. We've had buckets of rain here. The most in many years, the weatherman says. Recently the crazy kitten Ben gave me headed straight for the muddiest part of the driveway, and then into the field. If Spot is supposed to get me used to the idea of motherhood, it's not working. I managed to catch up with the little darling in the watermelon patch, and part of me wishes I hadn't. Children can get into worse messes than wayward kittens!
Spot found part of a skeleton, and the police say it's been there a long time. I guess with all the rain we had or something, those remains were bound to turn up.
People just don't keel over and get buried in fields. And now I just don't care to head across to that patch anymore. I'm afraid of what I'll find.
My longsuffering brother-in-law, Jerry, says the remains belong to a young woman, barely out of her teens, early twenties at the most. I'm afraid I know who she is. I'm also afraid a few people in Greenburg won't be happy that the past has returned. And that includes my family.
Tennessee River Soaps is thriving and our latest specialty scent is watermelon. I figured with the upcoming Chamber of Commerce sponsored watermelon festival, I should be supportive since I'm on the publicity committee. Ben's boss, Honey Haggerty, roped me into that one. Besides, there's something so summery about watermelon, and I can't get away from the fruit. Momma's trying to teach me how to make pickled watermelon rind and can preserves, too. But it's been hard finding the time or inclination to go across our driveway to the watermelon patch after what happened.
I should explain. We've had buckets of rain here. The most in many years, the weatherman says. Recently the crazy kitten Ben gave me headed straight for the muddiest part of the driveway, and then into the field. If Spot is supposed to get me used to the idea of motherhood, it's not working. I managed to catch up with the little darling in the watermelon patch, and part of me wishes I hadn't. Children can get into worse messes than wayward kittens!
Spot found part of a skeleton, and the police say it's been there a long time. I guess with all the rain we had or something, those remains were bound to turn up.
People just don't keel over and get buried in fields. And now I just don't care to head across to that patch anymore. I'm afraid of what I'll find.
My longsuffering brother-in-law, Jerry, says the remains belong to a young woman, barely out of her teens, early twenties at the most. I'm afraid I know who she is. I'm also afraid a few people in Greenburg won't be happy that the past has returned. And that includes my family.
Find out what Andi Hartley discovers in The Wiles of Watermelon by Lynette Sowell, available now through Heartsong Presents: Mysteries!
Posts
1 comment:
I love Andi and Ben, and I especially love Ben's brother Jerry. Lynette has assured me that Jerry will someday have a love life.
Post a Comment