She eased Elliot to a stop when she reached the Looms, killed the engine, and hopped out. From the bed of the truck she pulled a red wool blanket, faded from so many years in the back of her truck and soft from so much use. She spread it under the branches of the sprawling Rambo, sunlight filtering through the gaps. Sanna lay on the blanket, propping her feet against the trunk and tucking her hands behind her head. A fat bumblebee flitted from wildflower to wildflower, and grasshoppers had started their summer song. Her heart rate slowed as her mind calmed down.
How had Anders gotten so distant from the orchard? When they were children, they’d weave through the trees, playing tag until their dad put them back to work trimming the branches for the upcoming season or wrapping tape around a newly grafted tree. They grew up planning which bedrooms their families would take over when they all lived at Idun’s together, but then he went to college and everything had changed. He only came home for holidays at first, and then that dwindled to just Christmas after he’d graduated.
And now he cared so little for their land that he wanted to sell it to developers. Cash out. Her heart squeezed tight at the thought of someone else sitting under this tree—or worse. What if they destroyed all her trees to make way for some monstrosity like that hotel? Marrying Thad would almost be worth it if it meant keeping her land. She shuddered at the thought.
She spread her arms wide, past the width of the blanket, and buried her hands in the long grass, stretching her fingertips to the cool dirt. Lying like this, she fancied she could hear the orchard talking to her, telling her about the apples, and what trees should be grafted next. She drifted and envisioned the orchard from above. She could see the scraggly trees where she lay now, and the tiny twigs of the newly grafted Honeycrisp trees on the other side of the orchard, and the precise rows of the eating-apple trees—well groomed and trimmed for easy picking in the fall.
With her eyes closed, a new color spread across the back of her eyelids—a creamy white with a gentle red undertone. Her tongue started to wrap itself around the flavors as she smiled to herself. It would be dry, almost champagne-like, but with a late, sweet lilt of red apple, like a kiss on the nose. It would pair exceptionally with Parmesan, pasta, and a simple salad and it would be the perfect wedding cider, if she knew anyone getting married. She’d add it to her journal to start blending when she returned to the house.
“Hey.” Isaac’s voice shattered her solitude and she gasped, spinning around on her back like a turtle and rocking up to her knees faster than one would expect for such long limbs. She sat back on her heels.
“Sorry! I was worried I’d startle you, but it looks like I did anyway,” he went on. He stepped into the shade with her. She liked that she didn’t feel enormous near Isaac. “I saw the truck was gone, so I assumed you were back. I wanted to check in, see if there was anything Bass and I could be doing to help out.”
Sanna looked around for Isaac’s mini-me.
“Where’s Bass?”
“He was a bit off his game after seeing Einars this morning. I let him have his iPad for a few hours.” Isaac tilted his head to the side. “How are you? I thought you’d still be at the hospital.”
Those warm eyes nearly broke through the dam keeping her emotions in check. She wanted to tell him about how awful today had been, from the fall to the proposal. She wanted to trust that he would listen and say the right things, but she also knew she needed to get through this hurdle on her own. Relying on him would only end badly for both of them.
“It was leave or kill my brother. Too many witnesses and medical professionals at the hospital.” Sanna stood and picked up her blanket, ducking out of the branches and away from the urge to ask him to hug her.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your quiet time.”
“It’s okay.” She tossed the blanket in the truck. “I need to run to the grocery store. Any interest in joining me?”
While she wouldn’t spill her guts to him, she could let herself take comfort in his simple presence. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, she didn’t feel like being alone. So it came as a relief when he responded.
“I’d love to.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bass flattened his hair with the palm of his hand as he walked through the orchard toward the Lunds’ house, pulling a fistful down in front of his eyes. He could touch his nostrils with it. Crossing his eyes to focus on the end of his nose, he walked into a low-hanging branch. He rubbed where the rough bark left a scratch on his forehead.
He had written his mom a letter last night and his dad said he would mail it today, but with Mr. Lund getting hurt, he probably hadn’t.
He had spent the last hour playing games on his iPad, but without Wi-Fi they were boring. Half the fun was searching for new games to download. And he would have really liked to text his mom.
As Bass walked around the barn, a shiny black car was parked where Miss Lund’s truck normally was. He could tell it was a Mercedes by the hood ornament. No one was in the car, but it was still running. He looked around and heard rocks skitter, so he jumped back around the corner and watched a skinny blond lady in high heels totter across the parking lot, her ankles wobbling as she navigated the rocks. Who was she? And why was she by Miss Lund’s barn? Before she got in the car, she turned toward the orchard and took photos. He pulled the small notebook from his back pocket and wrote “dark car, high heel lady.” He was going to write Mercedes, but he didn’t know how to spell it.
Behind him, he could hear Miss Lund’s old truck rumbling through the orchard, the metal bouncing and creaking. The woman got in her car and zoomed out of the parking lot before the green truck appeared. He stepped out from around the barn’s corner, ready to tell Miss Lund about the woman’s odd behavior. Maybe she knew the fancy lady and they were friends—but he couldn’t really imagine that, and his dad always said he had a great imagination.
But all thought of mentioning the woman evaporated from his mind when his dad opened the passenger’s-side door and waved for Bass to join them inside.
“Hop in! We’re going to the Pig.” Before Bass could say anything, Isaac continued, “I know, sounds awesome, right?”
It did. Of course, everything sounded awesome when stuck on an orchard with no people your own age. He liked Idun’s fine, but he missed his friends and baseball and Internet. Bass climbed over his dad and settled on the big bench seat between him and Miss Lund, excited to be going somewhere new and completely forgetting about the high heel lady.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN