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Right now, blossoms had fallen, and apples were budding. It was going to be interesting to watch them grow.

When he reached the first building, Ford studied it from the farm road. It appeared people had added to the huge farmhouse several times over the years. He’d bet there were tons of interesting nooks inside. With a sigh, he decided not to go in. Instead, he labeled it as green as well. Damn it.

His buddy Knox had chosen the second farmhouse for the team’s living spaces. That building was newer and had been updated maybe forty or fifty years before. With plumbing fixtures in various pastel colors, it cried out for help. It would need to be done before Ford turned his attention to the bigger one nearer the road.

They would both be a lot of fun to work on for years to come.

A large field of gardens and apple trees separated the two farmhouses. Well,gardenswas pushing it. They were overgrown disasters, and he was glad they weren’t his problem. He’d rather fix plumbing and run electrical wire than pull weeds any day.

But his eye was pulled to the garden, anyway. More accurately, his gaze was pulled toward the woman studying the garden with her phone in her hand.

Jolie Malssum. Knox’s little sister. She’d arrived the night before in a flurry of smiles and long, long legs.

Ford ripped his gaze away from those legs and the fine ass that topped them. He had no business lusting after her.

From the first time he’d seen her, she’d intrigued him. When he and Knox had been overseas, privacy had been nonexistent. When one of them had a video call with family, the entire team met the families.

The instant he’d seen Jolie, he’d felt like an electrical overload had zapped him. The woman was gorgeous. Happy and friendly. She always wore a smile.

But she was Knox’s little sister. Ford wasn’t screwing things up at his new home by doing anything about the need that roared in his system anytime she was near.

Hell, even when she wasn’t.

Maybe he needed a new tab on his spreadsheet. How to keep his mind—and his hands—off Jolie Malssum.

Jolie Malssum imagined the disaster in front of her as a garden in full bloom. It could be beautiful and would bring so much life to the property.

At one time, she’d bet there’d been two families who’d lived in these farmhouses. She could see the imprints of two large kitchen gardens in the weeds. And another few smaller flower gardens. Perhaps two herb gardens as well.

The property had probably once been two. Had interconnected families lived here, sharing the bounty of the apples? Had they merged over time into one family?

That was the opposite of what had happened in Jolie’s family.

This farm had belonged to her great-uncle Jay Malssum. A man they hadn’t known existed until she and her siblings had received letters from a lawyer saying he’d died and left them this farm.

Why hadn’t their grandfather Fox ever mentioned his brother? What had pulled the two men apart?

And why had Jay wanted Fox’s grandkids to have the property?

Jolie blinked her eyes to rid them of the tears forming. Fox had died a year before, and she missed him so much. The man had taken in her, Amber, and their three older brothers when their parents had died in a car crash.

Jolie had only been seven. She wished she had better memories of her parents. The others told her lots of stories about them, but she’d love to have her own memories, too.

At least she had decades of memories of Fox. He’d been the best grandfather. Taking in five kids was a lot, but she didn’t remember him complaining.

Okay, that was a lie. The old man had loved to complain and grump. He’d moaned about pollution and climate change and selfishness. But never about taking them on. Never about the cost or the work of raising five kids.

He’d been more of a cranky on the outside, sweet on the inside kind of man.

It was through his encouragement that she’d developed her love of plants, along with her deep respect for the planet and the creatures inhabiting it.

The Abenaki people take care of the earth. We owe her everything and we need to fix her. You can’t pollute the shit out of a planet and think things are okay.

She grinned at the memory. Fox had tried hard to reduce his swearing around her, but when he got worked up, he’d forgotten. A lot. She’d giggled so hard at some of his words, and he’d made her promise to never use them herself.

So while she thought them a lot, cursing out loud didn’t happen very often. When it did, she always sent Fox a silent apology.

“What happened with you and your brother, Fox? Family was so important to you. Why didn’t you try to fix it?”