“Why now?”
Because you’re so beautiful. “It’s hard to explain. I never went to a real school, but they taught me to read the bible, and I know every book. They used to preach about Paradise Ranch being our very own land of milk and honey. But I was a kid, right? And a real literalist. And there was never enough milk to drink, and forget the honey.”
“Aw,” Lark said, her voice low.
“I heard about all the miracles, and I was bummed to have missed out on all the action. But here’s the funny thing—now I live in the most miraculous place in the world. When you and I go to work later, it’s to ripe apples practically falling off the trees. There’ll be milk in my coffee, and someone offering me seconds and thirds at breakfast. This is the land of milk and maple syrup.” I glanced down to find Lark listening to me with a soft expression on her face, and I was never more certain that God’s earth was a special place. “Everywhere I look I see miracles,” I finished.
She closed her eyes and stretched her arms over her head. “Zach, you’re really fucking smart for someone who wasn’t allowed to go to school.”
“You just caught me on a good day,” I said, and she laughed.
11
Lark
After breakfast I went out to the orchard to pick apples. I’d learned to dress in layers because the September days were still quite warm, but the temperature dropped like a stone at night. I found Griffin in a row of trees that was just for cidermaking. He was inspecting them with a level of care and precision that fascinated me. I watched him test the firmness of an apple with his thumb, and give it a soft tug to see whether it would come off in his hand.
It did.
“We want these to be ripe enough that they’re starting to fall off the tree,” he said as I approached. “These are ready. Where are the guys and May?”
“May is catching up on her reading,” I said. She’d gone back to law school last week. “But I can grab your cousins and Zach.”
“In a minute,” he said, inspecting another apple. “I just want to know something.”
“Mmm?” I asked, picking an apple and giving it a sniff. I loved their sunny, musky scent.
“Do you have bad dreams like that often?”
Shit. I leaned over to put the apple in the bucket, so he wouldn’t see my face. “Not that often,” I said carefully. Though if he were sleeping in the bunkhouse now, he was going to call me on this lie pretty quickly. Zach ended up in my bed every two or three nights. Why wouldn’t the dreams just fucking stop, already?
At least I got more sleep than I had in Boston, and Zach was the reason why. Griff was going to notice that, too.
Why did I have to be so much trouble?
Griff cleared his throat. “Maybe there’s a doctor who could help?”
“You think I didn’t try that? Three shrinks, Griff. My parents called in every specialist they ever knew. But I got sick of people asking me what happened.”
“And what did happen?” he asked gently.
“I’m not entirely sure,” I whispered. “That’s what freaks everyone out. The first place their minds go is…” I stopped short of saying it out loud.
“Rape,” he finished for me, his big brown eyes deep pools of empathy. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and hugged me.
“Right,” I admitted to his chest. “But that didn’t happen.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “Nobody believes me, though.” But I knew my own body. And when I came to after my rescue by the police, it never crossed my mind until Boston doctors began to question me. But the feeling I woke up with wasn’t that I’d been raped. It was…guilt. Whatever happened, I knew in my bones that I was the cause of it.
“I’m sorry anything happened to you at all,” Griff rumbled. “Sure wish I could make it better.”
“You are, though,” I said, easing back. “I just want to stay here and work and be outside with people who know me.”
“All right,” he said with a nod of his giant head. “I’m all for you hiding out on my farm, as long as it’s not harming you.”
“I already think I’m better,” I said quickly. “It hasn’t been that long, you know? I just need a little more time.”
He chewed his lip for a long moment and then nodded at me.
“And, uh, don’t mention this to May?” I begged. “Please? I don’t want her to worry.”
Griff gave me a skeptical look. “You don’t want me to worry, but you also want me to lie?”
“Because it’s not important,” I argued. “And she has her own crap to deal with right now.” I still felt like a heel for not saying the right thing when she told me her issues with alcoholism.
“Fine.” He sighed. “Now go find those slackers I’m related to and drag ’em over here.”
* * *
We all worked like plow horses that week.
Ruth had driven Daphne to college in Connecticut, and Dylan had begun his part-time coursework. May hit the law school books hard. Griff hired day workers to pick apples and help him at the presses because there were fewer hands for all the farm labor now. Meanwhile, he put in extra hours on his renovation, too.
I liked being this busy. My friends all worked so hard, and helping them felt like the best use of my time.
Zach and I did four farmers’ markets a week, in four different towns, and each one had a unique flavor. Norwich and Woodstock were the fanciest. Hanover reminded me of a street fair. And Montpelier was typical crunchy Vermont.
It rained, though. For a while it seemed as if wet weather had been ordered up specifically to drench the farmers’ markets. This stressed out Zach, not because he minded getting wet, but because our traffic was lower when it rained.
“You can’t control the weather,” I pointed out after a quiet Hanover market. He had a grim expression as we loaded half our produce back onto the truck.
“I know.” He sighed. “I just hope Griff doesn’t look at the receipts and wonder what I’m doing wrong.”
“I think he’ll look at your sopping wet self and come to the right conclusion.” And, damn, Zach’s torso in a wet T-shirt was a thing of beauty. His abs were cut like the antique washboard hanging in Ruth Shipley’s kitchen.
The following Friday afternoon we picked Haralsons under clear skies. It was nice to be out in the sun again, except that I had to listen to Kyle and Griff debate where we’d go drinking tonight.
“The Goat,” Griff said again and again.
“Gin Mill,” Kyle protested. “What do you care, anyway? You’re not going to hook up.”
“I don’t feel like driving all the way to Alec’s bar. Gonna spend enough time driving over there come winter.”
“Why?” Kieran asked.
“Eh, a plan I’m working on. Don’t mind your pretty head over it.”
“Let’s go to the Gin Mill tonight so you can check everything out,” Kyle said.
“Subtle,” Griff replied with a sigh.
* * *
Last Friday night I’d begged off the bar outing in order to accompany May to her AA meeting. Afterward, we’d indulged in ice cream and a movie in the Shipley farmhouse. Since the boys had been out at the bar, we put in a chick flick that Ruth watched with us.
But this week May nudged me toward Griff’s truck after dinner. “You go out. I’m going to do some homework after my meeting.”
“On Friday night?” I whined.
“Yes, for one more year I am exactly this boring. Go have fun.”
I was tired, though, and not exactly in the mood for the noise of a bar. But I went anyway, just to prove to myself that I could hack it.
Griffin had won the argument about where to go, so we were bound for the Goat. Once again I rode in the back of Griff’s truck between Zach and Kyle. When we got to the smaller bar, I heard loud music thumping from inside, and my stomach tightened immediately. Gritting my teeth, I let myself be led inside. But there weren’t any free tables, damn it.
I shouldn’t have come.
As we ordered drinks, I could feel Zach giving me the side-eye. “You okay?”
“Sure.” I moved a little closer to him. If I couldn’t lean up against the wall and regain my composure, he was the next best thing.
Our drinks were served by a freckle-faced kid with a barbell in his eyebrow. I sipped my beer and scanned the place for a calm place to sit or stand. It didn’t help that there was a shrieky pop tune on the stereo. “My ears are bleeding,” I muttered.
“It’s hurtin’ me, too,” Griff said. “Zara would never have tolerated this shit on her shift.”
A broad hand landed on my shoulder, steering me toward Griff. “Wait here a sec,” Zach said. Then he disappeared.
Two minutes later he returned. And a minute after that I heard the opening strains of “Snow” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers over the speakers.
“Oh, yeah,” Griff said. “That’s a big improvement.”
I tipped my head back, and it bumped into Zach’s comfortable shoulder. “Did you do this?”
He shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. “Someone once told me that nothing bad ever happens when the Chili Peppers are playing.”
The corners of Griff’s mouth twitched. “That’s sounds like something Wild Child would say.”
“Because it’s true! Hey, look…” I pointed at a high table across the room where three women were getting up.
“On it,” Zach said, sliding away from me again. He stood guard over the table until the women were clear of it. Each of them in turn gave him a very appreciative glance as they passed by.
Griff and I wove through the crowd, and I sat down on one of the stools beside Zach. “We need a fifth seat,” I pointed out, but Griff shook his head.
“I’m going upstairs to say hello to Zara and baby Nicole. Kieran and Crash-n-burn can have the seats. I’ll be back in an hour. Or less if Zara is wiped.”
“Doesn’t her baby sleep?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” Griff said with a smile. “At her whim, you know? She’s a charismatic little redhead. Keeps Zara on her toes.” He left, and I settled in for some people watching as my favorite band played over the sound system.
Feeling more comfortable, I suggested a game of poker.
“You’ll probably take my money,” Kyle grumbled. “I’m told my poker face sucks.”
“We’ll play for pennies,” I suggested, pulling a deck of cards out of my bag. “And we’ll work on your poker face.”
“I don’t always remember the hierarchy of the card combinations,” Zach admitted.
“That’s okay,” I said, shuffling. “Consider it practice.”
We played our way through a pitcher of beer. Kieran won, but only on silly luck. As it happened, Zach had a hell of a poker face.
“Uh-oh, Zach,” Kieran said with a chuckle. “Look who just came in.”
“Great,” Zach muttered, picking up his beer.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, turning toward the door. All I saw was two young women—barely college age. They were heavily made up in that way that a teenager sometimes does when she’s still figuring herself out. And they were both smiling a little too hard, too.
It was painful to watch.
Kieran’s eyes twinkled as he took a pull of his beer. “The curly-haired one has a thing for Zach. And when she gets drunk, she tries to climb him like a ladder.”
Kyle laughed. “If only. She tries to mount him like a bull on a heifer. I’d let her, if it was me.”
Kieran shook his head. “Even you wouldn’t go there. Too young, too drunk…”
“Maybe next year.” Kyle chuckled. “If she doesn’t have her way with Zach first. Now it’s time to stand back and watch the show.”
I looked up at Zach’s red-faced scowl. And then I swung my gaze back to the girls, who were indeed glassy-eyed and wobbly. “Damn, did they drive here like that?” I wondered aloud.
“Nah. One of them lives a quarter mile up the road,” Kieran said. “They get bombed at home and then walk here. Griffin had to escort them back home once last spring. After he peeled one off Zach.”
“Now you’ve been spotted!” Kyle snickered. “The approach is my favorite part.”
“Why me,” Zach muttered into his beer.
“Because you give off that nice-guy vibe,” Kyle said cheerfully. “You’re approachable. Like a friendly puppy.”
Zach was giving off an embarrassed vibe, if any. “You want me to scare her off?” I volunteered.
“How?”
“How?” I scoffed, stepping in front of him. “Put your arms around me.”
“Plot twist!” Kyle said gleefully. “This is going to be good.”
“Hurry.” I took his beer out of his hand and set it on the table. Then I reached up and put my arms around Zach’s neck. But he only stood there, wooden. “You are a terrible actor,” I hissed, nudging his arm with my elbow. “Play along.”
Slowly, his arms closed behind me, coming to rest on my waist. I stood up on tiptoe and slowly dragged my nose against his. “How am I doing?” I stage-whispered.
Kieran answered, “The heat-seeking missile is still locked on the target. ETA, five seconds. Watch your six, Lark.”
That made me smile.
“Hi, Zach!” a high, wavering voice called out. “Do I get a hug, too?”
Seriously? I turned my chin in the girl’s direction. “He’s busy,” I snapped. I heard Kyle and Kieran snort with amusement. But the girl did not walk away. This poor chickie could not take a hint.
Desperate measures were called for.
I took Zach’s handsome face into both my hands, and tugged him downward until his smooth lips brushed mine. Zach’s body went absolutely still.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
Hesitating only for a second, I leaned in. Tilting my head to get the angle just right, I softly joined our mouths. He made a soft, bitten-off sound, and I felt it in the center of my chest.
His arms slowly tightened around me as our lips came together. And that’s when my body forgot that this kiss was supposed to be a diversion. Zach’s mouth firmed to mine, and I felt my knees go a little squishy. God, he was just so freaking hot, and it had been a long time since anyone kissed me.
Seriously, I should buy the tipsy little jailbait a present for handing me this opportunity to lay a good one on Zach.
He leaned into the kiss, and the moment stretched and shimmered so unexpectedly. The urge to taste him was strong, but I wasn’t going there. With great reluctance, I slid my lips to the corner of his mouth and teased him with butterfly kisses instead.
“Coast is clear!” Kyle chuckled.
At that, Zach released me, moving backward as quickly as if he’d been tagged with a Taser. I was left with cool air and unexpected disappointment. It sure was good while it lasted. Zach stood there looking startled. He put his fingertips up to his lips, and then quickly dropped them.
I turned around and scanned the bar. Zach’s tipsy pursuer was in the opposite corner now, choosing a new mark. “Mission accomplished?” I asked.
“Looks like it,” Kyle said, flicking me gently on the head. “You know what? I think I see someone coming to bug me, too. Can you take care of it, Lark?” He held out his hands to me.
I opened my mouth to tease Kyle, but then lost my train of thought, because Zach was giving him a death glare. Zach, who was ornery to no one, was looking at Kyle as if he’d like to kill him.
Weird.
“Well, Kyle,” I said. “If a girl comes over to attack you, I’m going with a different strategy this time.”
“Yeah?” He drained his beer.
“Just for variety, I’m going to hook up with her instead.”
“Awesome,” Kyle said. “I can watch, right?”
I had to laugh, because I should have known he’d say that.
* * *
Surprising everyone, maybe including himself, Kyle didn’t ride home with us in the truck. He begged off
to hook up with a college girl he met while drinking his third beer.
“How are you going to get home?” Griff asked him.
“Who fucking cares?” Kyle argued.
“Fair enough.” He leaned closer to Kyle. “There’s a box of condoms in the glove box of my truck.”
“I’m all set,” Kyle said before clapping Griff on the shoulder and heading out.
As a reflex, I checked Zach’s face to see what he thought of this amusing development. But his expression was locked down tight. He looked into the dregs of his beer as if the answers to all life’s questions were written at the bottom of the glass.
“Shall we head out?” Griff wondered. “Anyone object?”
At that, Zach drained his beer and set the empty glass on the table. “Let’s go,” he said, and then left the bar so fast I practically saw a contrail.
Uh-oh. Zach hadn’t said much at all since I’d kissed him. Now it occurred to me to wonder if I’d screwed up. Sometimes I forgot that not everyone liked to misbehave. I’d hate to think my antics made him uncomfortable.
“Shotgun!” Kieran called as the rest of us headed out.
But Zach was already in the passenger’s seat.
“I called it,” Kieran argued.
“Too bad,” Zach mumbled.
The ride home was quiet, and I worried some more. Zach had been so generous to me these past few weeks. It killed me to think that I’d screwed up our friendship.
“Hell,” Griff said as we pulled up the drive. “Did Dylan leave a light on in the dairy barn? Or maybe the timer is on the fritz again.”
“I’ll check it,” Zach murmured from the front seat.
“Thanks, man.” Griff stepped on the brakes, bringing the truck to a halt. Zach hopped out and shut his door. Then Griff drove the rest of the way up the drive and parked beside the farmhouse. “I’m gonna say goodnight to Dylan and Mom. Anyone need anything from the house?”
“I’ll go with you,” Kieran said. “Feel like raiding the cookie jar.”
That left only me. I took a few steps toward the bunkhouse. But then I reversed course, crossing the dark lawn toward the dairy barn, where the light was still on.