The Apple Orchard

Seven



“We’re broke,” Isabel said the next morning. She set a platter of butter croissants in front of Tess. The two of them were seated on a flagstone patio adjacent to the kitchen, where an iron and tile table was set up, shaded by a broad umbrella.

Tess had woken up with her heart racing, her head aching, having tossed and turned most of the night. She’d done the breathing exercises the doctor had given her, but those only reminded her of Dominic Rossi, and the thought of him was hardly a calming one. And now this. She set down her coffee cup. “By ‘we’ you mean...”

“All of this.” Isabel made a sweeping gesture to encompass the estate. “The commercial accounts and Grandfather’s personal funds have run out.”

“And this is something...you weren’t aware of?” Tess searched this stranger’s face but could detect no sign of deception. Which either meant Isabel was being straight with her, or Tess didn’t know her well enough to detect deception. Tess did know herself, however. When Dominic had explained that she would one day inherit half of everything from a guy she’d never known, she already knew on some level that it was too good to be true. To escape the hurt of loss while at the same time being given an inheritance—that just didn’t happen. This was something she had discovered in her line of work as well, recovering people’s treasures. It was just as she’d initially thought—there was always a catch. Strangers didn’t simply materialize out of nowhere, offering a fortune.

“He’s always been really private about his accounts,” Isabel explained, her voice subdued but completely guileless, “so I didn’t find out until yesterday morning, when the bank called about some checks I’d written from Grandfather’s account. I did more research last night when I couldn’t sleep. His personal account and all the business accounts are virtually empty.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Tess. “I’ve been broke before, and it’s no fun.”

“Have something to eat,” said Isabel. “Please.”

Tess bit into a croissant, which was still warm from the oven. “You made these?”

Isabel nodded. “I do love baking.”

“It’s so good, it tastes like something illegal.”

Isabel laughed softly. “It’s just a matter of training.” Then her smile faded, and she pushed her plate away.

Tess tried to imagine what her sister was feeling, discovering that her beloved way of life was in peril. It was hard to reconcile the look of this place with the concept of being broke. The estate looked vast and prosperous—on the surface, at least. Bella Vista was stunningly lovely, the orchards well tended and clearly productive. If there was a place in the world that was closer to heaven, she wasn’t aware of it. Bella Vista—Beautiful View. A panorama view of the orchards, herb and flower fields radiated outward from the patio. The scents of ripe apples, lavender and roses rode the breeze, mingling with the mind-melting aroma of Isabel’s fresh-baked croissants. But even with her mind melting over the glistening, flaky rolls, Tess couldn’t dismiss the stark reality of what her sister had just told her.

Nor could she dismiss the fact that heaven was outside her comfort zone.

“What did you do when you were broke?” asked Isabel. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

“I don’t mind. I got busy working and dug my way out. Juggled a deck of credit cards. I even used those crazy blank checks they send you to pay bills.”

“Didn’t that put you even deeper in debt?”

“It’s the American way. It was a Band-Aid, of course. The truth is, I’m loaded with student debt. I’ve got a good job that pays the bills, but just barely. Ultimately, I need to make a plan for the long term.”

“This must be a real letdown for you,” said Isabel, “to come into this situation....”

“I’m not exactly suffering here.” Tess tried some of the jam. “This isn’t better than any sex, but it’s better than most.”

Isabel flushed. “I just feel overwhelmed by everything.”

“Judging by what I saw yesterday, you seem to have a huge network of friends,” Tess observed. As the sun’s warmth filled the morning, she noticed Oscar Navarro ambling along with his peculiar gait. Other people had appeared in the fields and orchards, getting down to the day’s work. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot of advice and support from them about your...situation.” Although Tess was in no position to suggest it, she assumed Isabel had options. It wasn’t just the beauty of the surroundings that made Bella Vista seem so special. It was the idea that this was a land that sustained people, the residents and workers and their families took care of the land and, in turn, were nourished by the orchards and gardens.

An overly romantic notion, she realized that. But this place had value, and if there was a cash flow problem, there had to be a way to fix it.

“What’s that part of the building over there?” she asked Isabel, getting up from the table and crossing to the main courtyard, the one with the fountain in the center. The house formed three sides of a square around the stone-paved center, but she’d only seen one of the three wings.

“It’s vacant,” Isabel said. “At one time, there were quarters for workers and servants, room after room. And in the other wing there are mostly bedrooms and storage rooms. Bubbie once told me she and Grandfather wanted a big family, but they couldn’t have kids.”

“They had Erik,” Tess pointed out.

“More kids, I guess she meant. For as long as I can remember, both wings have been empty, or just used to store odds and ends.” Isabel rubbed her temples. “I’m sure Grandfather didn’t mean to leave things like this. Even though he’s old, he’s always been in excellent health. But...accidents happen.” She looked so fragile and exhausted by worry as she spoke.

Tess had an urge to reach out to her, but she had no comfort to offer. “Well,” she said. “Broke is a relative term. Look at this place. You can take out a loan to help your cash flow, and find a way out of it. Dominic Rossi will help you with that. Isn’t that what bankers are supposed to do?”

“One would think.”

“So tell me about Dominic,” Tess said, keeping her voice completely casual. “How did he end up being your grandfather’s executor?”

Isabel sighed. There was a world of meaning in that sigh, but Tess didn’t know her well enough to make sense of it. “Ah, Dominic,” she said. Her gaze shifted to the distant view, where the mist rose from the hills and softened the line of the horizon. “Grandfather has always been his mentor. He’s always been so wonderful in that way. He used to say he’d been helped so much by others in his life. He wanted to do the same. I hope you get a chance to know him.”

All he had to do was find me, thought Tess. And he hadn’t. But Dominic Rossi had.

“So...the banker guy,” she prompted, hoping she sounded merely interested, not obsessed.

“Dominic and Grandfather did business together, but they’re more than business associates. I suppose that’s why Grandfather designated him executor.”

There was so much more Tess wanted to know, but she couldn’t figure out how to ask. She wanted to know about Dominic’s world, and why his marriage had fallen apart, and if he had a happy life these days. She wanted to know what his laughter sounded like, and what he looked like when he wasn’t wearing a three-piece suit.

She wanted to know if he had a girlfriend. No, she didn’t. Yes, she did. But she’d never admit it.

“A few months ago, Dominic’s bank failed,” Isabel said. “It was awful. It happened in a matter of hours. The building was surrounded by police, and federal agents seized all the records. In a single day, a bigger bank came in and took over. A bloodless coup, I suppose. But after that, Grandfather seemed stressed out. He never talked about it. I could just tell.” She sighed yet again. “After seeing the bank statements, I guess I understand why.”

“I really would like to see him. Is it a long way to the hospital?”

“No, it’s the county medical center, ten miles from here.”

“Then we should go.”

Isabel hurried to the side patio and started clearing the table. Tess followed her lead, reaching for a plate. Her hand brushed Isabel’s. To Tess’s surprise, Isabel’s fingers were like icicles, and she was trembling violently.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’m up to a hospital visit,” Isabel said. “I might be coming down with something, so I’d better stay away. One of the biggest risks to Grandfather is infection. We’ve got to be really careful about that.”

She didn’t look as if she were coming down with anything, Tess observed, confused by Isabel’s reluctance. Maybe it was just too hard for her to see her beloved grandfather in a coma. Tess wondered if there might be something more; this did seem like a family of secrets. “I’d still like to go,” she said.

“Of course.” She brightened a little. “I know exactly who’ll go with you.”

* * *

That evening, Tess borrowed Magnus’s Volkswagen, which ran on biodiesel and was cluttered, a typical old man’s car, as if he’d just left it moments before. Which of course, he had, never anticipating that trip to the orchard on the morning of his accident. The visors were stuffed with old receipts, a half-eaten Clark bar, the drink holder rattling with spare change and a tarnished St. Christopher medal. She drove along the winding byways that traversed the hills, crossing Angel Creek and taking a right at the mailbox marked Rossi. At the corner, she sat in the car for a minute, gathering her thoughts and trying to talk herself out of seeing him. He might think she was stalking him. She’d phoned him from the landline at Bella Vista, getting his voice mail. He hadn’t called back, but Isabel had assured her it was fine. In Archangel, people dropped in on each other all the time.

That was certainly the case at Bella Vista. The day had sped by quickly, with people coming and going—neighbors and workers alike. Tess had also used the landline to phone the office, only to be told that there was business to be done, and she was holding up a number of transactions, not to mention the meeting with Mr. Sheffield. But this was important. For once in her life, she was willing to let business wait.

Tess had never been hesitant or apprehensive about guys, and she was not about to start now. Besides, this was not about seeing a guy. Isabel said he could take her to see her grandfather. Yes, she could go on her own, but it didn’t seem right to simply show up, a stranger....

Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car. He lived in a vintage bungalow with a big fenced yard twined with climbing roses losing their petals. The place was surrounded by vineyards and orchards on all sides, and it didn’t look like the kind of place where a man like Dominic would live, but she reminded herself that she barely knew him.

The front porch of the bungalow had a preternaturally neat shelf filled with soccer balls, and three bicycles arranged by size, the smallest one painted a sparkly pink, with streamers coming out of the handlebars. Dusty shoes were neatly lined up by the door, including some little Velcro sneakers featuring a cartoon character Tess didn’t recognize, and bigger shoes with soccer spikes.

She racked her brain, trying to remember the kids’ names. Trixie? Anthony? She inspected the pink two-wheeler and discovered a small fake license plate that read Trini.

That’s right. Trini and...Antonio. Yes, that was it. Cute names.

An ominous flutter started in her chest, the now-too-familiar prelude to panic. Ignoring it, she stepped up to the door and rang the bell.

“I’ll get it!” piped a girl’s voice. “Maybe it’s the pizza guy.”

The door opened, and a little dark-haired girl peered up at Tess. “Oh.”

Tess suppressed a smile at the disappointment in her little face. “Sorry. Not the pizza guy. I’m Tess. Are you expecting the pizza guy?”

“Yep. Dad said. But you can come in.”

“You can’t let a stranger in,” said Antonio, who shared his sister’s dark hair and big gorgeous eyes.

“She’s not a stranger. She’s Tess.”

“Oh, the one Dad was talking about.” The little boy grinned. “Yep, come on in.”

“Thanks.” He was talking about her? What had he said? She resisted asking as she stepped through the door. Unsurprisingly, Dominic Rossi’s yard and home were as uncluttered as his car had been. How was it possible to have two kids and two dogs and a clean house? Maybe he really did have OCD. “What kind of pizza did you order?”

“I got to pick,” Antonio said, guiding a soccer ball with expert moves of his feet. “I ordered pepperoni and melanzano.” A lithe little shorthaired dog scampered around, trying to capture the ball.

Suddenly Tess felt like an intruder. Yes, she should have talked to Dominic first. “Sounds delicious,” she said. “And you pronounced melanzano perfectly, by the way.”

Trini crooked a finger, indicating that Tess should come closer. “He doesn’t know melanzano is eggplant,” she whispered. “If he did, he would think it’s gross.”

“We know lots of words in Italian,” Antonio said, pausing to stick out his tongue at his sister. “Our dad speaks Italian because his parents come from Italy.”

“Nonna and Papi,” Trini explained. “They live in Petaluma.”

“Well, it’s very cool that you know some Italian,” Tess said. Technically, Tess didn’t like children. They were noisy and inattentive. Unpredictable and uncontrollable. These two were...okay, so far. They didn’t seem too noisy at the moment, and they definitely were not inattentive.

Dominic spoke Italian, she thought. Of course he did. As if he needed one more thing to make him more appealing.

“Do you speak something?” Trini asked.

“I speak with an Irish brogue,” Tess said in her thickest Dubliner accent, “on account of me grandmum was Irish.”

Antonio stopped kicking the ball, and both kids stared at her as if she had spoken in Elvish.

“I understand you,” Trini said, her voice a whisper of wonder.

“Then maybe you speak Irish, too, and you just didn’t know.”

“We don’t speak Irish,” Antonio said. “We understand it, though. We’ve watched Darby O’Gill and the Little People, over and over.”

“So did I, when I was a little person myself. I watched it so many times, my mom called it Darby Overkill and the Little People.”

“Are you here to see our dad?” Trini asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“He’s in the shower. He got really dirty and sweaty working in the yard.”

The thought of Dominic, all dirty and sweaty in yard-work clothes, was impossibly sexy. “Oh...then maybe I’ll come back another time.” Tess started for the door.

“No, it’s okay. He’ll be really quick. He’s always quick in the shower.”

“It’s a guy thing,” said Antonio. “We’re super quick.”

“He sings ‘Rubber Ducky,’” Trini said. “He’d be mad that I told you that.”

The little dog gave up its tussle with the soccer ball and started sniffing around her feet. Technically, she didn’t like dogs, either, but this one seemed as polite as the children, and its smooth, short hair felt like silk under her hand. “Tell me about your dog.”

“That’s Iggy,” said Antonio. “He is an Italian greyhound.”

“Which is why he’s called Iggy,” Trini explained. “After his initials—I.G.”

“That’s clever. I bet he can run fast.”

“Like the wind,” Antonio said.

“The wind at forty miles per hour,” Trini said. “Our dad rescued him.”

Of course he did, Tess thought. He was a handsome, Italian-speaking hunk with two adorable kids and a nice dog he just happened to have rescued. What was it Isabel had said? He rescues people. Dogs, too, apparently.

“From a puppy mill,” Antonio said.

Trini went and opened a screen door to the backyard. In bounded another dog whose breeding was so uncertain, Tess wasn’t even sure it was a dog.

“That’s the Dude,” Antonio explained. “Dad rescued him, too.”

“Not from a puppy mill,” Trini said.

Using the light, quick steps of an expert soccer player, Antonio rounded up the dogs and corralled them into a corner of the room. “Look, I’m the dog strangler,” he said.

“What?” Tess lifted her eyebrows.

“Wrangler,” Trini said. “He means dog wrangler.”

“Yeah, that.” Antonio regarded Iggy and the Dude with pride as they sat at attention.

“Is the pizza here?” Dominic asked, coming down the stairs. “I thought I heard— Oh. Hey, Tess.”

He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He wore only faded jeans that looked as though they’d been hastily pulled on after the shower. He had bare feet and damp hair curling into whorls, a chest and abs, shoulders and biceps that made her want to stare at him all day long, the way an art lover might stare at a masterpiece. Who knew so much male beauty could be concealed beneath that three-piece banker’s suit? Suddenly she didn’t give a hoot whether or not he had OCD. She almost didn’t care whether or not he had a pulse.

She realized after a moment that it was her turn to speak. But her mouth had gone totally dry, and her normally high-functioning brain was filled with nothing but nonverbal lust.

“Uh...hey,” she managed to get out, probably sounding like a sex-deprived cavewoman. “Um, I don’t mean to intrude—”

“You’re not intruding,” he said. He must have felt the intensity of her stare, because he grabbed a gray hooded sweatshirt from the hall closet and took his sweet time pulling it on over his head.

Leave it off, she wanted to say, and probably would have if not for the presence of his two extremely attentive children.

The sound of a car door slamming sent both kids and dogs to the front door. “Pizza!” they yelled, as if they’d spotted Halley’s Comet. “It’s pizza time!”

The dogs barked in a frenzy.

“Money is on the hall table,” Dominic said. “The tip is included.”

While the kids swarmed the pizza guy, Tess edged away. “I can see this is a bad time. Sorry. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said.

“No,” he said. “What’s on your mind, Tess?”

“That I’m an idiot for showing up without checking with you first.”

He grinned. “Besides that.”

“I wanted to visit Magnus in the hospital. Isabel said you went to see him most evenings, so I thought I’d ask to join you.”

“I do go see him most evenings, but tonight I’ve got the kids.”

“Which is why I’m an idiot for not checking with you.”

“No problem,” he said. “Stay for dinner. The pizza smells amazing.”

“I don’t mean to intrude.”

“But we want you to,” Trini said matter-of-factly, balancing a large pizza box on top of her head as she led a parade of her brother and two dogs into the dining room. “You’re gonna love the melanzano. It doesn’t even taste like you-know-what.”

“I should go,” Tess pointed out.

“We want you to stay,” said Antonio, glaring at his sister as she elbowed him. “You can have a glass of wine, too. My dad makes it himself.”

“I’ll go grab a bottle.” Dominic went out the back door.

Tess could tell they weren’t going to take no for an answer. “Okay,” she said. “I surrender.”

Inwardly she braced herself for the wine tasting. In all her globe-trotting, she’d sampled some of the best wines, but her experience with homemade wine was limited. That didn’t matter. If Dominic’s wine gave her botulism, it would be no more than she deserved for having an inappropriate crush on him.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend?” asked Trini, grabbing a small stack of plates.

“What? No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“He’s weird about us meeting his girlfriends.”

“He doesn’t want us getting attached,” Antonio added.

“He’s afraid we’ll get our feelings hurt if the girlfriend doesn’t stay,” said Trini.

“They never stay,” Antonio said.

“That’s because he never has girlfriends, moron,” Trini said. “Almost never. And anyway, he and my mom are getting back together.”

Oh, really? Tess made no comment. The girl spoke with casual confidence. Wishful thinking, or something more?

“They are not,” Antonio said loudly.

“Are too, moron,” Trini shot back. “Mom said.”

“Dad,” Antonio called out.

“Yeah, Bud?” Dominic came into the room with a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses.

“She called me a moron. Twice.”

“Apologize for that, Trini-Meanie-Minie-Moe.”

“Sorry I called you a moron,” Trini said, then muttered under her breath, “moron.”

“Hey,” Dominic said.

“Melanzano!” Antonio flipped open the pizza box. “Can I start?”

“Go for it.” Dominic poured them each a glass of milk and used a spatula to serve the pizza.

“Looks heavenly,” Tess said.

“Mario is from Naples,” Dominic said. “He built a replica of his family’s wood fire pizza oven. You’ll have to try it someday, before Isabel stuffs you full of health food.”

He opened the wine with an expert twist of a corkscrew. The bottle had a plain-looking label that said Rossi, followed by some letters and numbers, and the year 2004. Oh, boy, she thought. Not only was he serving homemade wine, but it was bound to be spoiled. She would try to be polite.

He poured the wine into a lovely goblet—another surprise. Most single guys drew their wine from a box and poured it into recycled jelly jars. These were fine crystal, as delicate as soap bubbles.

“Was 2004 a good year?” she asked, eyeing the wine, a deep claret color in the glasses.

“One of the best.”

“You’re giving me a vintage wine?” He’d made the wine. This facet of Dominic intrigued her; creative people always did. Tess was in the business of finding things, not making them.

“It’s not doing any good lying around in the bottle. Cheers.” They touched the rims of their glasses together.

She brought the paper-thin rim of the glass to her lips and took a sip, letting a tiny amount pool in the cup of her tongue. Then she shut her eyes and swallowed, breathing in the afterglow of the wine’s complex flavors and aromas.

“Well?” he asked.

Startled by pleasure, she opened her eyes. “I was bracing myself for rotgut.”

“Rotgut? I’m wounded.”

“I don’t even have words for how good it is.”

“It’ll be even better after it breathes for a little while.”

She turned the bottle toward her and read the other side of the label. “Angel Creek. This is what Isabel served last night. Wait a minute, you’re a grower and a vintner?”

“It’s a sideline.”

“He’s gonna get famous for his wines,” Trini said importantly.

“What’s rotgut?” Antonio asked.

“Just an expression,” Tess said. “It means cheap wine that’s not very good. It doesn’t actually rot your gut.”

“Not right away,” Dominic said, expertly folding a piece of pizza over and savoring a large bite.

“How did you get so good at making wine?” she asked.

“He can’t cook, but he can make wine.” Antonio took a big bite of pizza.

“Hey,” said Dominic.

“It’s true, Dad. You can’t cook.”

“So sue me.”

“Lots of people can’t cook,” Tess pointed out. “Very few can make delicious wine.”

“It’s his passione,” Trini said with dramatic emphasis. “That’s Italian for passion.”

“And yet you became a banker,” Tess remarked, savoring another sip. “Is that your passion, too?”

“That’s my job.”

“He’s really good at it. He’s got awards from the bank,” Antonio said. “He’s got a Navy Air Medal.”

“That was from military service, moron,” said Trini.

“Hey,” Dominic said in a warning tone.

The pizza was incredible, just as the kids had promised. Paired with the wine, it was heaven. She felt an unexpected sense of comfort here, being with Dominic and his kids. It was...easy. Pleasant, in a way she’d never before experienced. “This is some wine,” she told him.

“Thanks.”

“You served in the navy,” she prompted.

He reached over and refilled her glass. “That’s right.”

“How did you earn a medal?” she asked.

“His plane had a malfunction, and he had to do an emergency landing,” Trini said. There was a tremor in her voice. “He almost got killed.”

“I’m here now,” he said, clearly not wanting to go into it. Tess didn’t press for details, not in front of the kids. Although she’d grown up without a father, she remembered the feeling of worrying about a parent. Each time her mom took off and forgot to call, or got caught in a third-world country, Tess used to worry, standing at the window in Nana’s Dublin flat, feeling her stomach twist into knots.

After dinner, the cleanup was minimal—definitely a side benefit of not cooking. As he loaded plates into the dishwasher, Dominic turned to Tess. “Are you up for ten minutes of soccer?”

“Eff, yeah!” Antonio said, punching the air.

“Easy, Bud,” Dominic said.

“Sure,” said Tess, following the three of them, along with the two dogs, out to the backyard. She was wearing ballet flats, hardly appropriate for soccer, but she knew she could last ten minutes. There was a goal set up at one end, aglow in the light from the porch. It wasn’t a game but a free-for-all, including the dogs. Dominic’s moves were executed with the smoothness of a professional. The kids were nearly as good, and Tess got into the competitive spirit of things, remembering how much she’d loved the game as a girl. When she drilled a goal home, the ball whizzing past Dominic, she danced a little jig of victory.

“Awesome,” Trini declared. “Schooled you, Dad.”

“Yeah,” said Tess. “Schooled you.”

The sweetness of victory didn’t last, though. He grabbed her next shot out of midair, and kept her from making another goal. Mercifully, no one kept score. After a while, Dominic declared the game at an end. “Time to hit the showers,” he said. “You’re up past your bedtime, both of you.”

“Aww,” Antonio began.

“Hit the showers, and call me when you’re ready for bed,” Dominic said.

“Can Tess come and tell us good-night?” Antonio asked.

“If she wants.” He turned to Tess, one eyebrow lifted above his horn-rims.

“I’d be honored.” She didn’t consider herself good with kids, but how hard could it be, telling them good-night?

Harder than she thought. They stomped up the stairs and took their time getting cleaned up and ready for bed. There was some kind of toothpaste war in the bathroom, followed by a rambunctious chase involving Iggy and the Dude. Finally they were in bed, and she was summoned.

They shared a room with bunk beds. The space was decorated with startlingly good taste, with sage-colored walls and modern bedding, plenty of cubbies for toys and books. “Your room is great,” she told the kids.

“Bootsie was a room decorator,” Trini explained. “It didn’t work out for them, but she has mad skills.”

“I can see that.” Tess already knew she was going to give far too much thought to Bootsie, and even more to the idea that Trini believed her parents would reconcile.

The kids were finally snuggled in their bunk beds. Each was equipped with a reading lamp and an assortment of plush toys. Trini appeared to favor unicorns while Antonio went for jungle animals.

“We get to read for half an hour before lights out,” Antonio said. He hugged a battered novel to his chest.

“Good night, you pair of rascals.” Dominic gave each one a kiss on the forehead and tucked them in. Watching him, Tess felt her heart melt a little, moved by the simplicity of his affection and by the love that shone from his face.

“Good night, guys,” she said softly. “Thanks for letting me see your room.”

She and Dominic stepped outside. “No fighting, no biting,” he said, leaving the door slightly ajar. “Say when.”

“When!” yelled Antonio. “That’s far enough.”

Downstairs, he filled their glasses with the last of the wine. A faint air of exhaustion hung around him, though he was smiling. “So there you have it. Welcome to my life.”

She looked around the living room, scanning the plain furniture, the nearly bare walls. The place was strangely devoid of personal objects.

“I’m not much for decorating,” he said. “Bootsie and I parted ways before she helped me with the rest of the house. My ex took all the knickknacks and tchotchkes.”

She waited for him to say more, but he fell silent. Most people liked surrounding themselves with reminders of who they were—history, family, continuity.

“I’m sorry again about intruding,” she said.

“You didn’t. It’s too bad we couldn’t go see Magnus. Tell you what. I’ll get you a schedule of visiting hours, and we’ll work something out.”

“I’d like that.” She savored a bit more of the wine.

He was turning out to be a lot more interesting than he should be. She reminded herself that he was a stranger still. She wasn’t supposed to think about how he’d looked with his shirt off, or how cute he was with his kids and dogs. She wasn’t supposed to like him.

In spite of her misgivings, there was so much she wanted to know about this man, yet at the same time, she told herself she couldn’t get involved. His “Welcome to my life” had been a stark reminder that they were worlds apart. She needed to conclude her business in Archangel and move on. Her job, her life in the city, was waiting for her. Yet she felt more and more pulled in, not just to her sister but to everyone at Bella Vista, and to this man with his lonely eyes and adorable kids.

“Thanks for the welcome,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t come here looking to be entertained, but I have to say, the pizza was great, and this wine is amazing.”

He held open the back door, inviting her out onto a railed porch. The stars were just coming out.

“Over here.” He went down the porch steps and held open the back gate. Iggy raced after them, but the Dude stayed on the porch, sentinel-like, vigilant. “He refuses to leave the premises when the kids are home,” Dominic explained.

“Did you train him to do that?”

“I didn’t have to. He just started doing it. The vet says he’s got Akita in him.”

“Japanese guard dog.”

“Yep. He’s devoted to the kids.”

“You have nice kids,” she said.

“Thanks. I think so.”

“I’ve spent too much time on airplanes with the sort of children who give all kids a bad name.”

“You’ve been flying in the wrong birds, then.”

“Yeah, about that. A navy pilot? Air medal? Sounds way more challenging than banking.”

He hesitated. “Being a banker is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“In the navy, I followed orders, I flew my missions. There was a plan for everything and it never varied.”

“What kind of plane did you fly?”

“Jet, please. The EA-6B Prowler.”

“Isn’t that carrier-based?” She had dated a guy briefly who was in the navy, stationed on a San Francisco–based carrier. Eldon had been a walking encyclopedia of navy trivia, and after a few excruciating dates she had stopped seeing him.

“That’s right.”

“So landing a jet on an aircraft carrier is easier than banking?”

“Pretty much anything is easier than telling someone they don’t get the home of their dreams, or that foreclosure proceedings are starting.”

She winced, thinking of Isabel and what she’d discovered about Magnus’s accounts. She wanted to talk to him more about it but didn’t feel right without Isabel present. “Then why do you do it?”

“Stability for my family.”

Iggy took off across the orchard, disappearing into the darkness.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked.

“Yeah. I used to worry about coyotes, but Iggy’s smart. And fast.”

“What’s that smell? It smells so good here.”

“The orchard. This section is Magnus’s favorite.”

“That’s Bella Vista land?”

“Yep. We share a property line.” He led the way across the yard, which was bordered on one side by his vines and the other by a row of trees, heavy with apples. Reaching for a low branch, he picked a ripe one and handed it to her. “These are the Honeycrisps. Tastiest apples known to man.”

She bit into the crisp flesh, and her mouth was flooded with fresh sweetness. “This might be the best apple I’ve ever tasted,” she said. “It might be the best anything I’ve ever tasted.” A cool wind swept through the rows of trees, causing the leaves to whisper. The moon rode high, brightening everything with a bluish glow. At moments like this, the city seemed so very far away, practically on a different planet.

“So tell me about the navy,” she said. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it. But hated being away from the kids.”

And your ex...? She wouldn’t let herself ask. “Tell me about how you ended up with a medal. Trini said there was a malfunction...?”

He nodded. “They’re too little to remember, and it’s just as well. The incident happened during a Show of Force mission over some poppy fields where the bad guys like to hang out. Should have been routine, but there was a mishap during midair refueling. We had to make an emergency landing. We were on the ground and were ambushed.”

He spoke matter-of-factly, and the danger and chaos were so hard to picture, here in this starlit field. But she imagined the terror must have been immense. If she knew him better, she would ask him about that. But she didn’t know him; he was just giving her glimpses of his life, not letting her in. That was her impression, anyway. “What happened during the ambush?”

“We all survived. I got shot in the head. The kids don’t know that part.”

A chill slid over her skin. “Dominic...”

“I pulled through. Made an almost full recovery.”

“Almost?” No wonder he’d seemed so familiar with hospitals. She studied him in the moonlight. He looked like a marble sculpture, the planes and angles of his face almost inhumanly perfect, yet the kindness and emotion in his eyes transformed him from a cold and unreachable statue into a man she could barely take her eyes from.

“I’m deaf in one ear,” he said.

“That’s terrible. I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through.”

“The worst part wasn’t giving up a navy career, or losing my hearing. The worst part was knowing my kids had almost lost me. It was one of those wake-up calls life throws at you. Made me rethink everything. I came to the conclusion that I belong here, close to them.”

“Stuck in a job you hate.”

“I didn’t say I hated it. I said it was hard. The schedule is predictable. I don’t miss soccer games or scavenger hunts or dentist appointments or anything else they’ve got going on in their lives. That’s huge. My marriage didn’t survive the separations, but this is my chance to make sure my relationship with Trini and Antonio stays intact.”

“You have lucky kids,” Tess said. “My mom wasn’t around much when I was growing up, and I missed her.” She wondered, if her own father had survived, if he would have shown that kind of devotion.

Dominic caught her staring at him again, but for some reason, this didn’t bother her, and she didn’t look away.

“What?” he asked.

She watched his lips, and that made a flush rise to her cheeks. “You’re a nice guy, Dominic. I like talking to you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. A little.”

“What, that I’m nice, or that you like talking to me? Miss Delaney, I think you need to get out more.”

She laughed. “I stay really busy with work.”

“If you’re serious about following doctor’s orders, you’ll need to change that.” He was standing so close to her, she caught the scent from his freshly showered body. He leaned toward her, and everything, breath and heartbeat, the wind through the trees, the clouds sailing across the moon—everything slowed down and the world narrowed to nothing but him.

Yes, she thought. Oh, yes. She wanted to touch him, wanted it in the worst way, with an intensity that startled her.

Snap out of it. She wasn’t here for this. Taking a step back, she said, “I have to go.”

“No, you don’t,” he said softly.

“You’re right. I don’t. But...I’m going to go.”

He hesitated, and then he stepped back, too. “I’ll take you to see Magnus tomorrow.”