Eyes on the Prize Read online

  “I might ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m here for the same reason you are, but I’m not the one sneaking out here like I was up to no good. Couldn’t wait until daylight, could you?”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? I guess your motives aren’t so pure.”

  Jane listened to the men banter back and forth, accusing each other of something nefarious, though she couldn’t imagine what.

  “I just want to get a look.”

  “What can you see in the dark?”

  A light suddenly shot across the yard, aimed at the man still standing outside the garden gate, just missing Jane where she hid against a tall bush. She instinctively pressed back, moving closer to the bush. A thorn pricked her arm. Too late, she realized she was cuddling up to a pyracantha bush full of berries and thorns. She didn’t dare move.

  “I can see plenty. You might as well come over and see for yourself as long as you’re here.”

  The garden gate creaked open. Jane peered out from behind the bush. The man made his way across the garden to the other man. Jane could just make out their silhouettes as they stood in front of the umbrella. Hunched over, so she couldn’t see any difference between them, they faced the pumpkin patch.

  Jane’s jaw dropped. She closed her mouth as understanding dawned. The pumpkins. The couples who’d made special trips to the inn are here to see Louise’s pumpkins. But why in the middle of the night? Why couldn’t they wait until morning, when Louise would be proud to show off her giant pumpkin? Because they are up to no good. That’s why.

  She stood there wondering what to do. Should she make a racket and scare them away and wake up the neighborhood in the process?

  “Yup. It’s a beauty for sure. Now you’ve seen it, I suggest you go back inside and wait for the lady to show us her prize.”

  “I’m not leaving until you do.”

  “We’ll go together.”

  “Yeah, all right.” The man’s tone sounded begrudging, but the light shined out toward the gate again. Jane hoped they would go around the side of the house to the sunroom door. Since they’d come from that direction, she assumed that was how they’d left the house.

  The flashlight beam danced around the backyard, sweeping across the grass as the men came out and the garden gate swung closed. Jane held her breath, not daring to move. She didn’t want to be caught observing, even though it was her house.

  The footsteps moved away. She waited. Finally she heard the sunroom door shut. Exhaling, she stepped away from the prickly bush and crept back to the kitchen door, feeling like an intruder herself. Before she entered the house, she looked back toward the garden. It was safe. The conversation she’d overheard sounded like one between adversaries. The men would watch each other, so she probably didn’t need to worry.

  She didn’t know why she felt concerned about the two guests. Visiting the garden wasn’t a crime, but people didn’t travel halfway across the state to look at a pumpkin unless it had some value. Jane suddenly had the urge to post a guard at the garden gate.

  She hurried up the back stairs to her room. There was no time to relax in the shower, letting the hot spray work the strain out of her sore muscles. Instead, she took a quick shower and slicked her hair back into a ponytail. She had work to do and a giant pumpkin to protect.

  Chapter Nine

  I hope you like these,” Jane said. She placed a steaming hot Belgian pumpkin waffle, topped with pecan-fried apples and whipped cream drizzled with maple syrup, in front of each of the men.

  Harry Gladstone said, “Thank you.” Delmer Wesley, the one she’d registered, gave her a sharp glance, then quickly looked down. “Not my favorite. You got something else?” he muttered.

  “We have ham and egg frittata, cheese biscuits, bacon and sausage and fresh fruit.”

  “I’ll have that,” Delmer said.

  “This looks delicious,” Harry said. Delmer glared at him. He glared back.

  “It all looks wonderful,” Reba Gladstone said, injecting a cheerful tone into the icy looks between the men. “I’d love a pumpkin waffle, please. And it’s nice to see you again, Genevieve,” she added, smiling at the other wife.

  “You too,” Genevieve said, giving Reba an apologetic look.

  So they do know each other, Jane thought as she returned to the kitchen and took the frittata out of the oven. She wouldn’t tell him it was made with pumpkin. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice. At least the women were cordial. She’d guessed the men were competitors. She’d been puzzling over the garden confrontation while she prepared breakfast, and she’d concluded that the men were giant-pumpkin growers. That was the only thing that made sense. They’d come to check out the competition. Louise would be floored to learn she was considered the competition. Jane couldn’t wait to tell her.

  “I have to confess, we came here because we saw the article in your newspaper about your pumpkin, Mrs. Smith.”

  Louise finished refilling Reba Gladstone’s coffee cup and set down the cup before she responded. The woman’s statement stunned her.

  “How did you get a copy of our newspaper?”

  “It’s on the Internet,” Genevieve Wesley responded.

  “You read about my pumpkin too? Why? You drove all this way because of my pumpkin?”

  “Yes, we did. Would you mind showing it to us?” Harry asked.

  Louise couldn’t miss the challenging look he shot Delmer Wesley. “I’d be happy to show it to you,” she said.

  “Can we go now?” Genevieve asked.

  “I need to help my sister in the kitchen.” Louise looked at her watch. “It’s eight-thirty now. I’ll show you the garden at nine o’clock, if that’s all right.”

  “Certainly. Take your time,” Reba said. “Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy my coffee. It’s so rich. I’d love to know the brand.”

  “You can talk to Jane. She’s in charge of all the food. The tea is available at a local shop, Time for Tea. It also carries our Madeleine and Daughters truffles, which are made from our mother’s recipe.”

  “Are they the ones in our room?” Genevieve asked. “They’re to die for. I ate all of ours.” She blushed.

  Louise smiled. “They are. Would you like more coffee?”

  Genevieve said that she would.

  Louise offered coffee to the men, but they declined, so she returned to the kitchen where Jane was washing a pot. “I could do that for you,” she offered.

  “I’ve got it.” Jane turned and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “You’re frowning.”

  “It’s our guests. Do you know why they came here?”

  “I have a pretty good idea. Are they finished?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good. Take your coffee and sit down. We have time to chat.” Jane poured a cup for herself and carried it to the table. “Where’s Alice?” Louise asked.

  “She already left for work. She’ll be getting off early, so she’ll have plenty of time to pack. Vera wants to leave first thing in the morning. I’m going to help her after our guests leave.”

  Louise stirred her coffee, then set the spoon on a napkin and looked at Jane. “They read about my pumpkins. Evidently, Carlene puts the Acorn Nutshell on the Internet.”

  “She told me she wanted to post it online. I didn’t know she’d already started. They must have done a search for giant pumpkins.” Jane shook her head. “Louise, they’ve already been out to the garden. The men, at least. I saw them sneak out there in the dark when I came back from my run. They were talking and I overheard them.”

  “That’s really odd.” She leaned forward, hardly believing her pumpkin patch was causing such a stir. “What did they say?”

  “They were arguing, sort of. I gathered neither one knew the other was staying at the inn. They both came in late last night, so they might not have seen each other. Kind of funny, when you think about it.”

  “Indeed. So what were they arguing about?”


  “Your pumpkin. One of them was suspicious of the other’s motives, but I couldn’t tell which was which. One talked the other one into going back inside. Honestly, Louise, I think one meant to harm your pumpkin.”

  “No. Why would he want to do that?”

  Jane crossed her arms. “Competition.”

  “From me? But I’m not planning to do anything with it. I missed the county fair. Besides, I’m just an amateur gardener. Very amateur.”

  “Most gardeners are amateurs. They must think you plan to enter it in some weigh-off, like the one Craig told you about in Baskenburg.”

  “Well, I’ll just tell them I’m not going to enter my pumpkin in any competition. Then they’ll go away and that’ll be the end of it.”

  “I think you should reconsider. They read the article and they immediately came to Acorn Hill. You must be a contender. And it hasn’t done growing yet.”

  “How would I get that huge hulk to Baskenburg? No, that’s just silly. I can’t go running off to the other end of the state. I have better things to do with my time,” Louise said.

  Jane leaned back and crossed her legs. “Suit yourself. I’m just saying, don’t make any rash statements. Let them sweat for a while.”

  Louise raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “That’s the point.” Jane stood and took their cups to the sink. “Don’t say anything. Let them come to their own conclusions. I’d really like to know why it’s so important to them. Other than for winning a weight contest.”

  “But the winning pumpkin last year was over fifteen hundred pounds. Mine won’t get nearly that heavy.”

  “That was last year. It doesn’t mean anyone will grow such a large one this year. Just leave your options open. You never know what’s going to happen.”

  “All right.” Louise stood. “I’d better escort our guests to the garden. Would you come with me?”

  Jane removed her apron. “You bet. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  At nine o’clock, Louise and Jane met the Gladstones and the Wesleys in the parlor. All four of the guests had chosen to dress for the garden in long-sleeved shirts and jeans. They’d come prepared, which didn’t surprise Jane at all. It just confirmed their reason for being at Grace Chapel Inn.

  Jane led the way out through the sunroom to the garden. She knew the men had already taken that route earlier, but she didn’t say anything to them. Louise was right behind her and the guests were in the rear.

  “Lovely garden. You’re a talented gardener,” Reba said to Louise.

  “The gardens are Jane’s domain,” Louise said. “I’ve only grown the pumpkins.”

  “Then a gift for growing things must run in your family,” Harry said.

  Jane was about to thank him for the compliment, but she caught herself just in time. She did not want to become friendly with garden vandals, assuming that her suspicions were correct. She wondered if the wives knew about their husbands’ early morning escapade.

  She opened the gate and stood aside for them to follow Louise inside. She watched the men’s feet as they stepped across her paths. They were careful to avoid disturbing any plant life. So far, so good. Jane shut the gate and stepped over to where the four people surrounded the giant pumpkin beneath the umbrella.

  The men feigned surprise at seeing it.

  “That’s a beauty, all right,” Harry said.

  Reba nodded, but didn’t say anything. Genevieve pursed her lips and looked at her husband.

  “Not bad,” Delmer said.

  “What do you mean, not bad,” Harry said. “I’d wager it weighs more than yours.”

  Delmer shot Harry a look toxic enough to wilt the cabbage growing two rows over. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Harry shrugged.

  “Are you both growing giant pumpkins?” Louise asked.

  “Sure are,” Harry said. “I don’t have a contender this year. I might have a winning squash, though.” He grinned and tilted his head toward Delmer. “We’ve been competing against each other for years. Neither one of us has come up with the champion yet. Maybe this year, Delmer?”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see,” Delmer said.

  “Mind if we measure this beauty?” Harry asked Louise.

  “I don’t know. Really, I haven’t thought about entering it in any contest, but I don’t want anything to happen to it.”

  “Harry won’t let anything harm your pumpkin,” Reba assured Louise.

  “Our local nurseryman measured it Sunday. He estimated it at 953 pounds,” Jane said.

  “That’s almost a week ago. It should be quite a bit heavier now. Did he use the three-way method?” Harry asked.

  “I don’t know what that is, but he measured it around its middle,” Jane said.

  “That’s the circumference method. It’s not the most accurate way to estimate weight. I use the over-the-top method, which requires three measurements.” He took out a large tape measure. “May I?”

  Jane stared at Louise, who gave her a questioning look. Jane didn’t know what to say. She wanted to protect her sister’s patch, but it was up to Louise to decide. She shrugged.

  Louise sighed. “All right,” she said. “Please be careful.”

  Harry turned to his wife. “Honey, will you help me?”

  “Of course.” Reba stepped over a runner and moved to the other side of the pumpkin. She ran her hand over its smooth skin. “Amazing, aren’t they?”

  Harry handed her the end of the tape measure, and she held it against the pumpkin. He carefully took measurements, then removed a small pad from his pocket, wrote a number on it and put it back.

  “Let’s get the stem-to-blossom end measurement,” he said, stretching the tape across the pumpkin once again. Reba held one end to the ground next to the stem. He lowered it to the ground by the end where the flower had broken off. “Got it.” He recorded that number on his pad.

  “One more.” He stood to move and nearly lost his balance. With a leap, he jumped away.

  Louise gasped. Jane held her breath.

  He landed well off to the side, out of harm’s way. “Whew! That was close,” he said.

  “You could have been hurt,” Louise said.

  “But I’m not. Fine as a fiddle,” he said, waving his arms to show he was in one piece.

  “Maybe you should forget about measuring the pumpkin,” Louise said.

  “If you don’t want me to finish, I understand. I could have damaged it with my clumsiness,” Harry said.

  “I’m not concerned about that pumpkin,” Louise said. “I’m concerned about you. I don’t want anyone getting hurt trying to preserve my plant. It’s not worth it.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful—of your plant and my clumsy body too,” he said.

  “All right.” Louise allowed him to go back.

  They took a measurement of the circumference, just as Craig had done on Sunday. Harry wrote the number on his pad, then did some calculations. He looked up and smiled at Louise.

  “Three hundred sixty-seven inches total.” He gave Delmer a triumphant smile, as if it were his own pumpkin. “That makes it about 988 pounds, give or take a few. Pretty good, I’d say.”

  “Harry, there’s a split on the main vine,” Reba said.

  He immediately redirected his attention. “Where.” He moved carefully to the other side of the vine and hunkered down. He examined the vine, then looked up at Louise.

  “It’s a hairline split. That’s not uncommon. It could be a cross split, which would be worse. This could affect the pumpkin’s growth, though, if it doesn’t heal. I don’t see any squash vine borers, so that’s good. We’ll just cover this split with soil and it should be all right,” he said, carefully mounding the dirt over the stem. “Keep it covered,” he instructed, standing.

  Delmer stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the proceedings. He didn’t say anything, but Jane thought that he looked highly agitated. He wa
s not a happy man. She believed he had been the man inside the garden with the flashlight in the morning darkness. Harry had been the one to stop him from doing any harm.

  Genevieve watched her husband warily. Poor woman. She took several pictures of the pumpkin. When they moved away from the patch, she was the first one out of the gate. Harry hung back, talking to Louise, waiting, Jane suspected, for his rival to leave. Delmer finally shuffled off after his wife.

  “I think you should consider entering this in the weigh-off at Baskenburg,” Harry told Louise. “You have a very good chance if this keeps growing at a decent rate. What are you feeding it?”

  Louise glanced over and caught Jane’s eye. She smiled. “Oh, just a little something I thought up. An experiment, you might say.”

  Harry laughed. “I’m impressed. I’d sure like to see if your secret formula produces a winner.”

  “I’m not planning on moving this behemoth out of our garden,” Louise said.

  “You’ll have to move it eventually,” Jane said. “Otherwise, it’s going to stink to high heaven.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Louise said. “I just wanted to see if I could make it grow.”

  “I’d say you’ve been more than successful,” Harry said. He opened the gate and let the ladies walk through. “Much more than successful.”

  Chapter Ten

  I hope I’m taking the right clothes,” Alice said, carrying her suitcase down the stairs Saturday morning. “Vera told me to take casual outfits.”

  “What you packed should be fine. Take along your light jacket for evening, when it cools off,” Jane said behind her. Vera stood at the foot of the stairs. “Do you need some help?”

  “We have everything,” Alice said.

  Alice set down her suitcase in the entry hall. “I’ll take my bag, just in case.” She retrieved her black nurse’s bag from the hall closet. “I never know when I’ll need this.”

  “I hope you won’t need it at all, but it’s good insurance,” Vera said, taking it from Alice.

  Jane and Louise followed them to Vera’s car, and stood waving as they drove off. Alice adjusted the seat belt and settled back for the long ride. “I haven’t been on a trip for ages.”