She ran down the stairs, slipping on some clogs to race across the lot, and climbed into the ATV, praying the keys were in it. In the farm stand, the three men watched her as she revved the engine and tore through the orchard. She prayed she was wrong, prayed the stress and exhaustion of harvest season were messing with her vision. But as she pulled into the row, she knew. What should be a clear view to the property line was instead full of green, leafy branches crisscrossing at odd angles. The hollow feeling in her chest grew and grew as she approached her beloved tree. She stopped the ATV and walked slowly around the vertical branches that still wobbled in the breeze, unaware they would soon be dry and brittle.
She knelt on the ground next to the naked stump and ran her hands over the fresh cut revealing well over one hundred rings. Even with such a long life, it was too soon. Tears slid down her cheeks as the fresh, damp sawdust clung to her jeans. Who would do this to her beautiful tree? Could it have been Thad?
Sanna wasn’t sure how long she rubbed her hand over the newly sawn wood like a mother rubbing a sick child’s back, but the sun dipped to the horizon and the air chilled her bare arms. She’d rushed out of the house without a jacket. While she still didn’t understand how her mom could abandon her and Anders, losing this tree made it clear to Sanna that she would do anything to make sure she didn’t lose Idun’s. Happiness without her orchard would be impossible. With that knowledge, no compromise or sacrifice was too much to ask.
She gave the stump one last pat and stood, confident in what she needed to do next. Using the tree clippers in the vehicle, she collected a small mound of new-growth clippings, each about a foot long, adding more to a bucket until she couldn’t fit another stick. As she emerged from the wreckage, her foot clanked against something hard. She picked up the item and held it in her hand—it was one of the mason jars with fairy lights. Isaac must have missed it when he collected the others. Another reminder of what she couldn’t stand to lose.
? ? ? ? ?
When she returned to the house, she carried her bucket of sticks into the kitchen, where everyone, including Anders, had gathered around the TV to watch a baseball game. With a clatter, she dumped the sticks onto the table, then went into the kitchen for a box of gallon baggies.
“Sanna, what did you do?”
When she spoke, her voice scratched from all the spent tears.
“Someone chopped down the Dancing Tree.” Isaac met her eyes, and he looked as heartbroken as she felt.
“What’s the Dancing Tree?” Anders asked.
“It’s Sanna’s favorite tree,” Bass had answered for her. She gave him a wink as Isaac moved to pat his shoulder, but Bass stepped away. He still hadn’t completely forgiven his dad—that would take some time.
“The one you made your necklace from?” Einars asked. She nodded. “These are for grafting?” he said, referring to the sticks. “It hasn’t worked any other time we’ve tried.”
“It has to work this time. I’m going to start some as soon as I have new rootstock, I’ll save some in the barn, in the house. It has to work.” She stuffed handfuls into a baggie until it was full, then began another. Without a word, Isaac, then Bass, then Anders and Einars joined her.
As they filled the bags, Anders asked the question Sanna had been turning over in her mind. “Who would chop down one of the Looms?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Thad. Ever since I turned down his proposal, he’s changed. I think I saw him walking toward the border right after the tree came down. I don’t have real proof, but I definitely saw a figure in tan walking off the back of our property and onto the Rundstroms’.”
“I’ll talk to Sheriff Dibble,” Einars said.
Sanna nodded, her mind on her work.
“I spoke to Eva Drake aga—” Anders started.
“Really, Anders?” Sanna said.
“Let me finish. I promised I’d tell you even after I gave her a very firm no. She seemed a bit desperate, and I felt bad. But she did something that was interesting—she listened to what I said during the first meeting and reconfigured the plans to save most of the Looms. It was a clever idea. Anyway, I fulfilled my vow to pass that information on to you both.”
Sanna hadn’t expected that piece of information, but it gave her an idea, well, really a twinkle of an idea that she hadn’t caught, but might once it formed.
When they were done, they had fifteen full bags of potential scions. Fifteen bags of fresh starts, if only she could save Idun’s.
? ? ? ? ?
The next day started chaotic and fuzzy. Sanna had dreamed of waking to find all her trees broken on the ground. Even with the relief that it was just a nightmare washing over her, she couldn’t shake the off-kilter feeling as she walked to the barn for the start of the day, catching sight of something she never thought she’d see: when they opened the farm stand for the first day of business, customers were already waiting in the lot.
“Where did all these people come from?” she heard her dad ask Isaac.
“I checked the website last night. Your visitor count is up, and your site shows up in the first page of Google results when someone searches for Door County orchards.”
“All that fiddling you did, you did that?”
“It’s what I do.”
Sanna didn’t know how to feel. Grateful for the customers, irritated because she wasn’t ready to completely forgive her dad or Isaac, wanting to celebrate this tiny success with them. Sometimes it was difficult to let go.
“Can I help with the cash register?” Bass asked Einars.
“Sorry, Wahoo. You’re too little for that. They need a grown-up to handle the money,” Isaac answered before Einars could. “Can you go run and get Anders from the house? I think we’ll need all hands on deck from the looks of this crowd.” Bass scowled at his dad and stomped to the house.
As they opened the door to the waiting patrons, a brisk wind whipped Sanna’s hair. She checked the weather on her phone.
“Pa, let’s move the register back a little from the entry. It’s sunny now, but they’re saying we might have some bad storms late—we don’t want the register to get wet.” Isaac hurried forward to help her lift it, catching her eye and bringing a reluctant smile to her face.
The morning flew by in a blur, helping customers, selling over half of the apples they’d set out and even several six-packs of cider. Sanna had even forgotten about her felled tree until she wiped sweat off her face with the neck of her T-shirt and her hand brushed her necklace. The loss hit her again, reminding her she still needed to grab that twinkling idea from last night and see where it led her.
They needed to do some restocking, and she needed Bass’s help. She looked for his mop of curls in the stand but didn’t see them. Stepping into the sun of the parking lot and raising a hand to her forehead, she saw that he wasn’t there either. Einars and Isaac huddled around the laptop, talking website and social media. Now that Einars had seen how effective it was, he wanted to know more.
“Have either of you seen Bass?”
Einars shrugged and returned to studying the page, while Isaac stood up with his head on a swivel.
“He should be here, but it’s been a while since I heard him. Actually, I asked him to get Anders but neither of them ever came out and that was hours ago.” Isaac ran both hands through his loose waves and checked around the barn’s corner. “I’m going to look in the house.”