Apple Orchard Bride

Jenna opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Why was Toby torturing her? He knew how to say the right things to get what he wanted. That’s all he was doing. If only she’d figured that out back when she was a teenager. From the age of nine or ten up until seventeen, Jenna had pictured herself marrying him. Toby had been her hero. Her everything, if she was being honest. Until he’d made a fool of her, led the school in mocking her and then left.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t live near him. But their lives intertwined now. If she didn’t need help on the orchard and with Dad, and if Toby didn’t have Kasey and need a place to stay, she’d tell him to leave. Forever. But she did need help, and Kasey needed a home. Jenna was stuck.

As if someone had squeezed a corset around her waist, Jenna’s lungs felt tight and boxed in. She forced out a breath and held her hand toward Kasey. “I could really use help with dinner.”

Toby pressed on the child’s back, and she tiptoed over and slipped her fingers into Jenna’s. Kasey’s hand was so tiny it made Jenna’s heart constrict.

“Do you like to cook?” Jenna asked.

“Yes,” Kasey answered shyly.

Toby spared them a warm, soft smile and then turned toward her father.

“Hang tight, Mr. Crest. I’ll dig you out.”

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. Sorry to burden you all.”

Toby crossed to the closet that held all the cleaning supplies. Evidently, even after ten years, he still remembered where they kept everything. “Not at all. Like all boys, I secretly wanted to be a fireman when I was younger, and you’re helping me live out my dream.” He pretended to push up sleeves, even though he was wearing a crisp navy blue T-shirt. “Commencing rescue mission.” He bent over and swept up the majority of the shards before moving onto his hands and knees with damp paper towels. “I think the glassware companies have some sort of conspiracy going. They need us to break their stuff so we buy more.” He moved the chair and hunted for pieces under the table.

Dad chuckled. “Of course. They implant them with invisible computer chips, and they’re programmed to jump out of our hands after a certain time of ownership passes.”

“Exactly.” Toby crawled toward the pantry and deposited more glass into the trash can.

Charm might as well have been Toby’s middle name, especially where her father was concerned. He’d always had a soft spot for her childhood friend, and their latest interaction reminded Jenna why. If she weren’t determined to dislike Toby, his tender kidding with Dad would have warmed her heart.

Too bad she didn’t care about anything having to do with Toby.

Jenna pulled a chair over and then fished a spare apron out of the linen drawer. She looped it over Kasey’s head. “I’ve got red potatoes in the Crock-Pot, and it’s just about time to mash them. Think you could do that?”

Kasey nodded. “I’m really good at mashing.”

“I thought you might be.” Jenna winked at her as she offered Kasey a hand to climb up onto the chair. She unplugged the Crock-Pot and pulled it closer. After she adjusted all the ingredients so they were within Kasey’s reach, she explained when to add the butter, cream and seasonings and told her to go ahead and mash away.

Toby finished cleaning the floor and had Dad settled around the same time that Jenna finished the steak medallions. She plated the mashed potatoes and meat, covering both with the mushroom cream sauce.

Toby moved Kasey to the table, then sidled up beside Jenna. “Smells great.” His arm brushed against hers. “I forgot what a good cook you are.”

She twisted, shoving two plates into his hands. “Try it before you rave about it.”

“Don’t need to.” Toby placed a plate in front of Dad and the other before Kasey. “The smell alone is better than anything I’ve had in years.”

Jenna rinsed off her hands before she brought the other two plates to the table. Toby was in the seat next to hers, his arm hooked over the back of her chair. She had to lean close to set a plate in his spot. He smelled clean—she caught a hint of cedar—and his hair was still a bit damp from a recent shower. She finally dropped down into her seat. They had shared many meals around this table, sitting in the same places, knees nudging whenever they needed to share a secret joke or convey something without her parents noticing.