Sanna looked confused.
“A menu?”
“I have a restaurant in Milwaukee, and these ciders would make a fantastic pairing for a special tasting menu. For example, Toasty Dark Brown would go beautifully with roasted chicken and root vegetables—I’m thinking beets, parsnips, and fingerling potatoes—with a sauce made from the cider.” She took another sip of the cider and smacked her lips—her eyes drifted off to another place, the same way Sanna’s did when she envisioned new ciders. “And thyme, maybe rosemary, I’ll need to play with it. Anyway, you get the idea.”
“So, you want to buy my cider?”
Lou smiled and touched Sanna’s arm.
“I want to buy a lot of your cider. Should we set up an appointment for tomorrow to talk pricing?”
Sanna used her phone to schedule it as the two women continued chatting about flavors and possible pairings.
“We’ll be taking a bit to go today, too,” Al said, grabbing four six-packs from the cooler, carrying them to where Isaac had taken over the register from Anders. “How long have you two been together?” Al tilted his head toward Sanna.
“Just friends,” Isaac said. “Why do you ask?”
“She’s looked at you no less than five times since she walked in—quick little checks to make sure you were still there. You’re doing the same thing to her.” Al paused. “Whatever you’re not saying—don’t wait. It’s absolutely worth the risk.” Al’s eyes moved to Lou, and he glowed.
“It’s complicated.”
“It always is, mate.”
Lou and Al paid for the cider with promises of returning tomorrow. Sanna’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she watched them go, then turned back to the tables, her eyes flicking to Isaac. He considered Al’s advice. Did it even make sense to confess how he felt for Sanna? They needed to head back to California for a funeral as Bass had said and to pick up their lives.
“Boys, why don’t you go see what’s taking Bass so long?” Sheriff Dibble said.
Einars began closing down the stand as the last few customers walked out. They’d sold a lot of stock.
“This is a start if we’re going to make our payments,” Anders said. Isaac knew he was trying to keep the peace with Sanna, but one good day wouldn’t solve their debt.
Sanna tucked her hands into her sweater sleeves.
“I’ve been thinking on that and I have an idea. Anders, you’re right about investors, but we also need someone who knows how to make money and sell an idea.”
As she shared her plan with them, the screen door on the house slammed as Bass finally emerged with the Dibble boys, singing a rude song at the top of their lungs. Perhaps Bass wasn’t one hundred percent grown-up yet.
As they approached, Thad drove in with his giant truck, forcing the boys to run toward the patio.
? ? ? ? ?
Seeing the silver monstrosity on her property, Sanna remembered him walking away from her fallen tree—or at least seeing a figure wearing his signature beige. Up until now, she hadn’t had the emotional space to process what she had seen, but now that she had a viable path to saving the orchard, and all the secrets had been laid bare and dealt with, Sanna could give the matter her full attention.
And she was pissed.
Anger burned her from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was responsible for the fallen apples, the fire, the girdling, and the demise of the Dancing Tree. This ended now.
As he got out of the car, she swooped at him, the rain having slowed to a drizzle.
“You. I know what you did. How dare you set foot on Idun’s? How dare you?”
Thad stopped in front of her, his red face equally angry, finally adding color to his taupe visage.
“You’ve ruined everything,” he said.
Sanna hadn’t expected an accusation back. What could he possibly be complaining about?
“What are you talking about? You aren’t still upset I won’t marry you?”
“You’ve ruined the deal. WWW planned to buy my property, too, but only if you would sell. We could have each had millions, and you’ve wrecked it.”
Pieces clicked into Sanna’s head. As someone who saw money as a means to keeping her home, she didn’t need more beyond that. Thad had only been after her property for money. When marriage wasn’t a viable option, he wanted the cash. Any sympathy she had for him or guilt over how their friendship ended dissipated with the rain clouds clearing above them.
“You son of a bitch,” Sanna said.
“Literally,” Einars said under his breath.
“You really did do it all, didn’t you? The apples, the girdling, the fire. You cut down my tree. You knew how much that would hurt me. I loved that tree.”
She stood inches from his face, forcing him to look up at her, yet he still had the balls to deny it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said the words evenly, like he’d practiced saying them in the mirror to make them convincing.
“You. Lie.”
While they argued, Sanna noticed the boys climb onto the back of his truck, using the tires to drag themselves up, then jump off into a large puddle, splashing the side of his previously immaculate exterior.
“Hey, Sanna,” Bass called after his second or third jump. “Are these the missing cider bottles?” He held one up so everyone could see the custom Idun’s label.
“Get out of my truck.” Thad started toward the rear, but Sanna followed, recognizing her bottle.
“That is one of mine. Why do you have that?”
Thad turned to explain to her as if she were a child.
“Because I always drink your cider. You gave it to me.”
“I’ve never given you bottles that have labels on them. I just got those labels last month. You took those from my barn—they were missing. What else do you have back there?”
“He’s got a chain saw,” Bass said.
Thad moved his glance from face to face.
“This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” He pointed at Bass in the truck bed. “Get out.”
He moved toward the driver’s-side door, but Sheriff Dibble converged.
“I don’t think so. You and I are going to have a bit of a chat.”
As Sanna watched Thad get shoved, none too gently, into the back of Sheriff Dibble’s squad car, her anger and hurt and stress melted into the puddles covering the parking lot. Everything was finally falling into place, but she had one more leap to make.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE