Apple Orchard Bride. Jessica Keller

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СКАЧАТЬ stop. I’m sick.” He fisted his hands, but not quickly enough to hide the shaking. From stress. She was causing that. Guilt punched at her heart.

      He rested his head against the back of the seat. “My body’s failing me. Admitting that is part of being able to move forward and live with my disease.”

      “Why?” Jenna whispered, so quietly she wasn’t sure if her father heard her. A part of her didn’t want him to. “Why is God doing this?”

      He scrubbed his hand down his face. “He’s not doing this to me. It’s not a punishment. Our bodies fail us because we’re mortal. That’s all there is to it.”

      God was perfectly fine with letting people who loved Him suffer? Was it like watching ants on a small anthill? Easy to feel no attachment?

      The muscles in her shoulders bunched. She couldn’t deal with Dad’s train of logic right now. “But they’re not letting you walk. Your hands shake all the time. You—”

      “It’s not a big deal, Jenna.”

      “Not a big deal? How can you say that? I can’t believe—”

      “Stop.” He drew his hands so they were in his lap, and his gentle blue eyes met hers when she braked at the intersection. “Jenna, sweetheart, the Lord gives and the Lord takes. In all of it let the name of the Lord be praised.” He referenced a verse that was written on a plaque that used to hang near the front entrance of their home. Years ago, after Mom’s death, Jenna had ripped the plaque down and stuffed it between books on her old childhood bookshelf.

      Her father continued. “My hope will remain with my faith, no matter what happens to my body.”

      No matter what happens to my body. Her throat tightened as if someone had shoved a bundle of itchy wool into her mouth and forced her to swallow. Dad didn’t know what those words meant to her, but they still felt like a slap.

      “I don’t like it. I don’t like admitting that you’re not a superhero.” Her voice shook.

      “Every superhero has their foil. I guess PPMS is mine.”

      “I love you, Dad. You know that, right?”

      “I love you, too, sweetheart. I love you very much.”

      She had to lighten the mood, or else she’d dwell on her thoughts too much and start crying. Besides, she was stressing him out and she didn’t want to be the cause of any more issues for him. “So...what you’re saying is we should paint the Batman symbol on your motorized chair when they deliver it?”

      “Ha! I don’t know if I’d go that far. Besides, we heroes like to be more covert.” He winked. “If you don’t mind.”

      Her Camry kicked up a cloud of dust as they drove down the driveway. For her father’s sake, she parked as close to the house as she could. Just like yesterday, her eyes were drawn to the sagging and worn-down parts of their home. It had once been a beautiful place. Dad used to paint it a brilliant white every summer, even though the orchard demanded so much of his time during that season.

      Now the house matched its owner.

      “He’s changed.” Dad’s voice dragged her attention away from assessing the house.

      Jenna followed the path of his vision to where Toby carried a basket of apples into their barn. He’d been out mending the fence when Jenna conducted her morning perimeter walk. Actually, after they’d arrived home from the ER yesterday afternoon, he must have headed back to her ruined Braeburns, because this morning the baby trees were encircled by plastic orange construction fencing. And two of the ones she’d thought were dead, he’d pruned and retied and was trying to save.

      Dad kept talking. “Don’t get me wrong. I always liked him. But he’s different. I mean that in a good way.”

      Jenna yanked the keys from the ignition. “I guess.”

      She didn’t want to think of Toby in a good light. That was dangerous. Feeling anything about her old friend would only lead to hurt. They would never be buddies again. The carefree days of lying in the orchard counting stars were gone forever. He wouldn’t stay here, not indefinitely. Toby’s dreams were bigger than hers. So there was no reason to appreciate him or get attached. Not that she wanted to. Toby was a pest at best and a traitor at worst. She still leaned toward considering him the latter for now.

      She rounded the car and helped her father out.

      He squeezed her arm. “Whatever happened between the two of you? You used to be inseparable. I figured you’d be over the moon about him coming home, but perhaps I was wrong.”

      He pretended not to know me. He made fun of your livelihood. Embarrassed me in front of the whole school. And broke my heart in the process. That didn’t feel like an appropriate answer, so instead she said, “We both grew up.”

      “Now, I’m showing my age here, but bear with your old man. Was there ever anything romantic between the two of you?”

      Not on Toby’s side. Nor would there ever be.

      “We’re two kids who used to play together. That’s all. Nothing more.”

      “Well, the fact that you’re taking a breath belies that. If you’re living, there’s always more. More to experience. More to know. More to laugh about. More is a gift that should be celebrated every day, honeybee. Toby’s back in our lives for a reason. That means he’s part of the more for both of us.”

      Yeah, probably more pain.

      Which was exactly what she was so worried about.

      * * *

      Toby set the crate full of apples on top of the old, rough table that ran the length of one side of the Crests’ barn. He scooped an armful of fruit, placed them in the large washbasin sink and started to scrub them.

      The Crests weren’t farmers, at least not in the normal sense. There were no cows or chickens poking around their ten acres, just apple trees. The barn was separated into three sections—a storage area for equipment, an industrial kitchen area that was set to meet health codes so they could make items to sell and the little storefront in the front of the barn where they sold their goods from the end of September through November, though October was always the busiest time of year.

      Perspiration dotted the space between his shoulder blades. He’d forgotten how much manual labor running the orchard could be. How had Mr. Crest managed the past few years? Toby leaned over the sink and cracked the window, letting in a stream of wind. He dragged in a deep breath of air through his nostrils. Sweet notes from the nearby Fuji, Red Delicious and Gravenstein trees flooded his senses. Those smells were home and happiness. Everything he longed for but could never have—not someone like him, not permanently.

      Jenna and her mom, along with a team of hired seasonal workers, used to spend all of fall in the kitchen area baking pies, making apple-cider donuts and apple dumplings, loaves and muffins, canning applesauce, and cooking apple butter and jelly. Did Jenna do that all alone now? Did the Crests still run the store at all?

      He should have been here. Should have helped them.

      A heavy weight settled in his gut.

      The СКАЧАТЬ