“I need you to rest and enjoy Jed’s visit. I can’t wait to hear about what he brings this time. If he’s smart, he’ll bring Berry a pony.” Then there was a little kiss on the lips and he was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
Maxie was standing in the kitchen when Tom walked in. She regarded him through narrow eyes and, lifting one brow, she asked, “Breakfast? Or have you eaten?”
“I’m starving, but if you’re going to glare at me, I’ll fix my own.”
“I haven’t said a word. Nor have I glared.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Struggling to stay awake. I didn’t sleep well.”
“All right, here’s what happened. The little girls were train wrecks—too much sugar, not enough naps. Nora bathed them and I did a bottle while she quieted Berry and we fell asleep along with the kids. In our clothes. I shouldn’t have to tell you that, Maxie. I’m old enough to sleep anywhere I want.”
“Yes, you are. But I like that girl a lot and she’s had some pretty impressive struggles. I’m not going to tell you not to go near her—I want you to. At least you’re looking at the possibilities. But Tom, you be careful. Don’t hurt Nora.”
“I would never deliberately hurt anyone.”
“I know, I know,” she said tiredly. “It’s so hard. I want you to use caution, to take your time. I also want you to get me beyond the suspense! I’m old!”
He grinned at her. “You’re going to have to let me pick my own girl. But no matter what, there’s no reason you can’t have Nora in your life. She loves you, Maxie.”
“Well, life would be a lot easier if you’d just let me tell you who to fall in love with. After all, I know more about this sort of thing than you do!”
“Fall in love? Maxie, I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.”
Yet those words followed him around all day Sunday as he worked and puttered around the orchard. Certainly he wasn’t falling in love—he was simply attracted. And from what he could tell, she was also attracted—and they had a nice little attraction going. He’d traveled that very road quite a few times since the age of fifteen or sixteen. Yet, he’d never been in love.
Tom told himself that the fact that he wanted to talk to her or see her all day Sunday had nothing to do with his feelings. And that Sunday was one of the longest days he’d experienced since being back from Afghanistan, but he told himself it was only about magnetism. After all, she had a special charm.
But he would not fall in love with her. Nora was encumbered, not just with small children but with a troubled past she was still struggling to overcome and understand. He was looking for something else entirely—a woman without entanglements. A woman ready to settle down and make him the center of her world.
But when Monday came, when she arrived at the orchard, he felt himself light up on the inside. He was grinning like a fool before he could control himself. She was the first of their seasonal workers to arrive as usual; she came to his office to tell him good morning and he came around from behind his desk to stand before her. He took her hands in his, looked into those golden brown eyes and said, “I’ve been thinking. We’d better be careful. We shouldn’t get too involved, too quickly.”
She tilted her head and drew her brows together. “Explain why you have such a giant smile on your face when you say that.”
“I had a good time on Saturday. Friday and Saturday. But we’re adults, you have a family to think about and I have a lot of responsibility. Let’s not be foolish. If there’s a little attraction between us, no reason we can’t enjoy that for just what it is. But we don’t want to fall headlong into anything real complicated. We’re going to have to keep it friendly. Light. You know.”
“Is this your idea of a ‘no strings attached’ proposal?”
“I’m just saying—I don’t see friendship, even a close friendship, getting in the way of us each managing the lives we have to manage. If we let it get too deep, too fast we could regret it. We don’t want complications. Or heartbreak.”
She smiled at him. “Oh, you’re right. We wouldn’t want that.”
“You understand, then?” he asked. “That we don’t have to take this too seriously? The fact that we seem to get along so well?”
“Perfectly.”
“And around here—we should be professional. Set an example. You know.”
“Of course,” she said. Then she waited. “Is that all?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Then I’ll get going—those apples won’t pick themselves.”
He gave a nod.
“I’ll need the hands,” she said, pulling her hands out of his.
And he immediately dropped his hands to his sides. “Right.”
She was chuckling as she left his office. Well, he thought, she could laugh it off if she wanted to, but he felt much better, having said his piece. He probably should have added that he wasn’t in love and wasn’t going to be, but then it was easier to think she’d figure that out in no time.
The problem with his theory hit at about eleven in the morning. Junior was on the press, Jerome had offered to deliver apples to some of their local groceries, Juan and Eduardo were picking on the other side of the orchard… . And Tom found Nora. She was on a ladder, up very high, her bag holding only a few apples and not yet heavy. He climbed the tripod ladder until he was standing on the step right under the one upon which she stood so that they were face-to-face, at least partially concealed by the branches of one of the oldest, thickest of trees.
He touched her lips once, twice, then slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her against him and covered her mouth in a deep, wet kiss that lasted for over a minute.
“Whew,” she said. “Is this your way of keeping things light?”
“How do you like it so far?”
She touched his face with her fingertips. “I like the way you kiss—a couple of test kisses, then a huge kiss. I have only one problem—my imagination.”
“Huh?”
“If that’s your version of light and playful, I’m a little curious about what happens when you are serious.”
“But we’re not going there,” he said. “We agreed.”
“Fine. Okay.”
So he did it again, kissed her like a starving man, kissed her until she couldn’t catch her breath. And again, and again, holding her tight against him.
“You’re going to make cider out of these apples in my bag,” she said.
Just once more, he told himself, kissing her again. But since this was going to be the last one for a good long time, he made it a very long kiss. He stopped when he started to get aroused.
He lectured himself for a while on how only a fool would allow himself that kind of contact with a woman he wanted to keep at arm’s length. So—that was pleasant, he thought. And now it will officially stop. No more playing around; no more five-minute kisses in the apples.
And at two o’clock in the afternoon he found her in the orchard, slid that heavy bag full of apples off her shoulders, spun her around the thick trunk of a tree and kissed the breath out of her. Over and over.
When he let her breathe, she laughed. “I know you want me to understand that this is not passion or desire, but just friendship, but I have to be honest—I’m having a little trouble with the concept. You are very distracting.”
“So are you,” he accused. “I’m not really doing this because I want to be serious. I’m doing this because you taste like apples and honey and I like apples and honey.”
“And you taste like roughly ten tons of testosterone. I am not sleeping with you.”
“We could probably manage it, though. Without getting too involved.”
“No,” she said.
“But why? I mean, if we’re trusted friends? And it doesn’t interfere with our responsibilities?”
“Did that line ever actually work for
you?”
“I can’t remember. But it probably did—it’s brilliant.”
“No. Never gonna happen.”
“Really?”
“Tom, how many children do you think I have to have before I figure out you get them by having sex?”
“Of course there would be protection,” he offered. “Tons of it.”
“No.”
“Jeez. Well, then, could you stop looking so good?”
“You’re pathetic,” she said with a laugh. “I’m dressed for apple picking and have no makeup on and no matter what you say, I’m sure I don’t smell or taste that good.”
His lips instantly sought her neck; he kissed and licked. He groaned. Then he went after her lips again, kissing her stupid.
“No,” she said when their lips parted. “Now, as much fun as it is to make out with the boss, I have work to do.”
“Had enough of me, have you?” he asked.
“For now,” she said with a smile. “Your professional behavior is killing me.”
He sighed and let her go. He helped her back into the apple sack.
“Thank you,” she said. “Now go do something important.” And she gave him a little shove.
“All right, but I have a feeling I might be back.”
“Yeah. I know.”
* * *
Tom wasn’t a particularly good liar and he blamed Maxie. She had always told him that lying created bad karma and that often you were stuck with the lie. She said it was God showing his sense of humor. When he was a kid in school and hadn’t done his homework, she’d warn him, “Don’t say you couldn’t do it because your grandmother died unless you want your grandmother to die—lies have a funny way of working into truth.”
However, he felt some lies, minor lies to be sure, had to be safe. So when Darla called and said, “How was hunting over the weekend?” he said, “Didn’t get anything.”
“Well, I missed you so much, I can’t wait for this weekend. And I’ve been thinking, if you can break away from the orchard for a little hunting, you can break away to visit me in Davis.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m hunting again.”
“Tom! Again?”
“It’s a tradition around here and very important to community relations.” He was glad she couldn’t actually see him wince under the weight of the bullshit.
“I’m not going to be in Davis that much longer,” she said in a pout. “And I miss you. I miss the whole orchard.”
“Well, if you want to spend the weekend alone with Maxie, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to entertain you.” And, just as he thought, Maxie was eavesdropping. The speed with which that old woman made it to the kitchen where he was talking on the phone was rather phenomenal and gave lie to her impending death. Her eyes were as big as apples and she bared her teeth at him. “In fact, she might be having her girlfriends for the weekend again,” he said to further discourage Darla.
Maxie rolled her eyes and went back to her television program.
“Well, when exactly will you be gone?” Darla asked.
There were times it was not easy being a man, and he was proving himself to be a typical one. He could hoist up an M-16 and go after insurgents fearlessly, but he could not tell an interested woman that it was a no-go. No interest. In fact, some measure of dislike. More than some—Darla was not for him. He would far rather she finish her time in Davis, return to Denver and forget about him. “Well, I’ll be leaving very early Saturday morning, we’ll camp overnight and I’ll be back around noon on Sunday,” he said. Just coincidentally, about the time Darla would be leaving Virgin River if she came to visit.
“Well, that not only eliminates the possibility of you coming to Davis for a nice weekend we could spend alone, but why would I bother to come to Virgin River for one evening?”
There was definite emphasis on alone and he actually gulped. “Sorry, Darla, but some things are just tradition and were set in stone long before I even knew you had a class in Davis. How much longer is that class, by the way?”
“Just a couple of weeks, which is terrible because you and I have things to talk about! Like where we’re going with this relationship!”
Say it, he told himself. Say “nowhere.” But he said, “Aw, it’s a shame that class didn’t fall at a less demanding time of year… .”
“Well, to say I’m unbelievably disappointed would be an understatement.”
“I’m sorry, Darla, but it’s all beyond my control.”
There was just a bit more chat—he apologized, she sulked—and then he signed off. Then he looked into the living room and met with Maxie’s glare.
“Why can’t you be deaf like other old women?” Tom asked her.
“You’re going to hell, you know. What did I tell you about lying?”
“What’s the worst thing that could happen? I could be forced to go hunting and not shoot anything?”
“I don’t even want to discuss it, except to say that you better not ever again volunteer me to entertain Darla for a weekend. Are you mad? Who would carry her bags?”
He laughed in spite of himself.
* * *
Nora was not experienced in love, not by a long shot. In fact, her limited experience was pretty much all bad. But she had developed better instincts since then and her intuition told her that she scared Tom Cavanaugh to death. He had prattled about responsibilities and friendly attraction and not getting serious all week—and yet couldn’t keep his hands off her. She found him lurking around the orchard all day long, waiting for his chance to pounce. And oh, my, could he pounce.
She pushed him away and laughed at him, but inside everything in her twittered and twinkled. He might not know what he was feeling, but she did. She was falling in love with him. Now, given the fact that her only experience with love was disastrous, she was not opposed to the idea of giving this a very long time to develop, even knowing that it might not work out the way she fantasized in the end.
What she hoped in her heart was that there might come a day that Tom found her and her children worth the effort. When he took her in his arms, she went to another planet. Everything inside her quivered and lusted and became warm. She melted inside for want of him. When he held one of her children, she became almost misty with sentiment—nothing in his behavior toward her or them seemed reluctant.
For four straight days at the orchard, he had found special moments away from other eyes and whether he realized it or not, he was romancing her. For the first time in so long, she had hope about many things—about getting on her feet, taking care of her children, living in a safe place, finding a sense of family and…and possibly the love of a good man.
And then on Thursday after work, she came home to find a notice posted on her front door. In one week her house, owned by a financial institution, would be auctioned. She was expected to move out as soon as possible. She tore down the notice.
The girls were still with Adie; Adie would’ve seen the notice on the door. Everyone in the neighborhood probably had seen it. With fear in her heart she went inside and flicked on a light. Then she lit a burner on the stove. By some miracle, they utilities were still connected.
She went to get her girls and Adie met her with a look of alarm in her eyes. “Nora, what does it mean?”
“It was to be expected, Adie,” she said bravely. “It’s not my house.”
“But what will you do?”
“I’m going to take the girls home, get them dinner and baths. And I’m going to think. The right answer will come to me.”
* * *
Maxie was working up an outstanding roasted chicken in the house and Tom was working late in his office, going over some of his online accounts receivable on his laptop. He deftly ignored emails from dpritchard—he didn’t have the time, nor the energy. He had some catching up to do—chasing a pretty woman around an orchard took time and cut into hi
s workday.
He wanted this chase to go on forever; he was confident that sooner than later he would be able to convince her they could invest just a bit more in each other. He wanted her; no question she wanted him. He could negotiate and, what the hell, become her steady boyfriend. The thought actually made him smile just as he continued to believe he wasn’t making a real commitment.
He heard a car and for a moment he thought she was back for dinner. It was entirely possible. Maxie could have seen her in the orchard earlier or even called her. Nora and the girls hadn’t been to dinner all week.
He jumped up and opened the office door—a red Caddy had pulled right up to the back porch. He spun right back into the office and leaned against the wall—no!
He could not imagine what the devil she was doing here or how he was going to make her go away.
The door to his office pushed open and there, smiling like she’d just caged a cat, was Darla. “I thought I saw you in here.”
“Darla,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“I left Davis this afternoon, early, and I’m taking tomorrow off—so I could spend a little time with you. I suppose I’ll leave Saturday to go back, since you’ll be busy. But really, Tom, I should think you could make a little time for me.”
He scraped his cap off as he ran his hand over his head. “Darla, you shouldn’t have come unannounced—I might not have been here.”
She stiffened as if insulted. “First of all, I emailed you a couple of days ago. Right after we talked—which by the way was a little tense. Second, you told me I should feel welcome to come to the orchard any time I felt like it! Every weekend, if I wanted to. I don’t know… .” Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at him imploringly. “What’s happened? You told me you were very interested in me and then— Suddenly I feel like I have a contagious rash or something!”
“Darla, Darla…”
“No,” she said, backing up slightly. “I don’t know what changed, but the first couple of weekends I was here, you were so attentive, so affectionate. I couldn’t have imagined how passionate you were when you kissed me and frankly, I was just counting the minutes until we could spend a night under the same roof together without your grandmother in the next room…”