Pretty as a Peach

by Sawyer Bennett

  I feel Catherine’s hand go to my lower back for support.

  I continue. “As you all know, three nights ago, Mainer Farms was viciously attacked. The new vineyard Colt had planted was sabotaged. Part of it was sprayed with gas and lit on fire.”

  “Evil is what it was,” someone in the crowd mutters.

  There are murmurs of agreement rippling throughout.

  When I hold my hands up, the room goes silent again. I take a moment to let my gaze sweep the room before I say, “It’s time for this community to come together. The first step is Farrington Farms and Mainer Farms are going to enter into a little business venture together. You all know Jake by now, and he’s going to invest some money into the Mainer’s new winery. This will help to repair some of the damage that was done. But we need more. We need immediate action to remove all the burned timber and vines to get it rebuilt again as quickly as possible. That’s what I’m here for today… to ask for your help.”

  Unsurprisingly, Floyd is the first to stand up. “I’ll do whatever you want, Darby. I’ll also donate some of the supplies to build new trellises.”

  I give Floyd a grateful smile. “Thanks, Floyd.”

  A man in his early sixties stands up from one of the tables. “My name is Silas Goddard. I own one of the competing farms. But I’ve got some IOUs from one of the local nurseries. I’ll call that in to get some new vines, or at least whatever I can.”

  I incline my head and say, “That’s very sweet, Mr. Goddard.”

  After that, there’s a period of several minutes where people are calling out what they want to do to help. Mostly it’s nothing more than volunteering their hands and their backs for labor. Muriel offers to cater food. Laken stands up and wrangles a deal with Eustace Roop, who apparently has the best organic compost in the county. She traded veterinarian services for Eustace’s goats in exchange for the compost.

  I sat there and watched as every single person in that diner, young or old, volunteered in some way to help get Colt and Mainer Farms back on their feet. It was perhaps the most amazing event I have ever witnessed. I never knew there was such collective goodness in people.

  If I had had any doubt about where Linnie and I should set down our roots, it was obliterated in this moment.

  I let Catherine and Jerry take over from there, as they are going to coordinate the efforts to get the winery and vineyard reestablished. My work was done.

  CHAPTER 28

  Colt

  Grabbing an apple, I give one last look around my kitchen and ensure it’s completely tidied up. I never walk out the door to start my day unless my bed is made and the kitchen is clean from whatever mess I might make at breakfast. The making the bed came from my drill instructor dad and the tidy kitchen from my mama.

  I walk out of my cabin with a surprising spring in my step. When I woke up this morning, I decided it was time to take the bull by the horns and start rebuilding. For the last few days, I’ll admit I spent part of that time feeling sorry for myself. Some of that time I spent trying to make an alternate plan that would not rely on a winery to stabilize Mainer Farms. And part of the time, I thought about Darby and the fact I pushed her away because her husband torching my grapes just complicated things.

  Mitch had indeed been questioned, arrested, and subsequently let out on bail, which he easily came up with. It appears the prosecuting attorney—who I met with yesterday—decided Gil and Travis made credible enough witnesses to charge Mitch as well. But that wasn’t the most important thing that happened at that meeting. And when I walked out, I was satisfied justice would be carried out in a way that was palatable to everyone.

  I jump in my truck to head over to the vineyard. I would ordinarily take the Gator, but I plan on heading over to Farrington Farms after. Right now, my goal is to take an inventory of what needs to be replaced so I can get supplies ordered. The more important goal today, though, is to talk to Darby to see if we can work things out. I may not have things quite figured out with the farm, but the one thing I know for sure is I don’t want to give up what I’ve built with her so far. I’ll be darned if I’m going to let her psycho soon-to-be ex-husband ruin things for us. And while I do believe part of his plan to torch my vineyard was retaliatory, I also think he did it hoping to cause a rift between Darby and me. He succeeded for all of about five minutes, but no more.

  I bump along the dirt road, humming a tune along with the radio. When I crest the ridge and the vineyard comes into view, I slam on the brakes of my truck so hard I skid slightly sideways. There are people swarming the rows of vines with vehicles parked all over the place around the edges of the field. “What in the hell?”

  I shake my head and hit the gas, driving another two hundred yards where I park beside Floyd’s truck. Hopping out, I take a more scrutinized look around. It seems like the entire town of Whynot is standing in my backyard so to speak. Muriel has two long tables set up with food, and a big commercial-sized thermos of what I’m betting is coffee. She’s handing out wrapped breakfast sandwiches with a smile. Floyd is down one of the rows directing a truck laden with timbers. Several of the townsfolk are there waiting to unload.

  Lowe and Jake are working with about ten other men to take down the wires on the trellises that have been burnt, and Pap sits nearby on a folding chair yelling out instructions to people.

  I even see Morri D ridiculously dressed in a pair of patchwork overalls and a big wide-brimmed hat to shade his face from the sun. He’s passing out water bottles to people.

  And I see Linnie. Sweet little Linnie pulling charred vines out of the ground. How in the world can I even face that kid with her father being arrested at my direction?

  My gaze sweeps left and right, searching for the one person I haven’t seen, and… there she is.

  Darby.

  Kneeling in the dirt where one of the vines has recently been pulled out. She’s got a kit, and she’s testing my soil. No doubt she’s got a truck somewhere around here laden with micronutrients to spray once she gets results.

  A hand claps down on my shoulder, and I turn my head to find my father standing there. “About time you joined us.”

  “What the heck is going on?” I ask.

  My dad points over to Darby, who has yet to see me, and says, “Your girl organized this. Called together a town meeting. She got people to volunteer time and some supplies to get what was lost replaced.”

  My eyes go wide, and the most unusual feeling of wonder and humility flows through me that someone could care that much about me.

  Here I was, the man who pushed her away because things got a little messy, and she is riding in on a white horse to save the day.

  Amazing.

  “Excuse me, Dad,” I mutter as I head toward Darby. The sound of my dad’s laughter follows me.

  I walk past people who smile and give me encouraging words. I shake hands and clap backs, saying “thank you” a dozen times before I reach Darby.

  When I walk up behind her, the only clue I’m approaching is when my shadow reaches her before I do. She cranes her neck to look over her shoulder, and her eyes widen with surprise when she sees me.

  I simply walk around her, and then drop to my knees in the dirt right in front of her. Grabbing her face with my hands, I pull her roughly into me for a hard kiss. I release her, look deeply into her eyes, and murmur, “You are incredible, and I don’t deserve you.”

  She gives me a shy smile. In a self-deprecating tone, she says, “I just organized. Everybody else who turned out here to work are the incredible ones.”

  I kiss her hard again. When I pull back this time, I say, “You did all of this for me? After I told you that we needed to take a break?”

  She gives me a tiny nod.

  I kiss her hard for a third time, and I don’t pull away this time. Instead, I tilt my head and deepen the kiss until her arms snake around my neck and mine go around her back to pull her to me. I vaguely hear a few people whistle and someone yells, “Get a room,” but I d
on’t care.

  Everyone can just watch and behold the power that Darby McCulhane has over me.

  When I pull back this time, I know I have to say the right words to put everything back on track. “Darby… I’d been thinking I was falling in love with you over the last few weeks. But right now, I am absolutely certain of it. And I don’t want to stop the fall. I was wrong to ask for a break. I don’t care about Mitch or what he’s done. If you and Linnie will have me, I would like to start seeing you again.”

  Darby doesn’t respond, but just stares at me for a few painful moments. I think she may be on the verge of telling me to go to hell—which would be unacceptable to me—when she puts her palms to my cheeks. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too. And I wasn’t really going to let you break things off. I had a plan.”

  “You did, did you?” I ask with a skeptical eyebrow cocked.

  She nods, bringing her face closer to mine. “But that plan is not needed now since you came to your senses.”

  I stand up from the ground, pulling Darby up with me. “Listen… There’s something I need to tell you about what I did yesterday.”

  Darby tilts her head. “You can tell me anything.”

  This I know, but it’s still nice to hear. “I met with the prosecutor yesterday. Travis, Gill, and Mitch have all hired attorneys. They approached the prosecutor with plea deals, and he wanted my opinion on what to do.”

  “Oh,” Darby says softly.

  “I told the prosecutor to cut deals that did not involve any jail time. I just couldn’t be a part of putting Linnie’s dad in jail. I think he deserves it, but I just couldn’t do it.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Colt. Linnie and I would have dealt with the fallout from Mitch’s actions. I want you to have the justice that you deserve.”

  I chuckle and scratch the back of my neck before admitting. “I’ll get justice. Part of the plea deal is Mitch has to pay full restitution for the damages. I’ll be able to pay back all these people who donated supplies.”

  Darby tilts her head back and gives a delighted laugh. “Hit Mitch in his purse strings. That will really hurt him.”

  “Have you heard from him?” I ask, and her laughter dies.

  Darby shakes her head. “As soon as he made bail, he slunk back to Illinois. His divorce attorney contacted mine and said the divorce proceedings would be back on through Illinois, which is really good news since it won’t take that long to finalize things.”

  “That’s terrific news.”

  Darby’s eyes darken slightly. “Mitch’s attorney also sent over a new proposed custody agreement. Mitch is giving me full legal and physical custody of Linnie, and he doesn’t want any holidays or summer vacations. He only wants to be able to see her if he occasionally travels to Raleigh on business.”

  I grimace over how cold this man is when it comes to his daughter. “I’m sorry. Have you talked to Linnie about that?”

  Darby shakes her head. “Not until it gets finalized, but honestly, she’s going to be okay with it.”

  “Maybe one day he’ll wake up and realize how special she is,” I offer to her.

  “Maybe,” she muses.

  I draw Darby into me and wrap her in a hug. She returns it, and we stand that way for a long time. I think about my future and the place this woman will have in it. I think about Linnie, knowing she has a place right beside both of us. I vow silently to myself Linnie will always be a top priority with me. I won’t be able to exactly make up for what she’s missing from her father, but I sure as hell can give her love and security.

  “I’d like to amend my previous statement,” I murmur to Darby.

  “What’s that?” she asks, tightening her arms around me.

  “The fall has been completed. I love you.”

  She hums low in her throat, or maybe it’s a purr. Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. Because she gives me those words right back without any hesitation.

  “I love you, too.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Darby

  Six weeks later

  I run up the porch steps and burst through the front door of Millie’s. Three pairs of eyes all turn toward me. Larkin, who is on top of an eight-foot ladder stringing lit garland over the entryway into the sitting room; Morri D, who is standing at the bottom of the ladder and feeding more garland up to Larkin; and Laken, who is slouched sideways on one of the chairs filing her nails.

  “Where’s Mely?” I ask as I look around.

  “She and Lowe left this morning,” Morri says.

  I do a double take at his outfit. He’s wearing a winter white suit with a red lamè shirt underneath of it and a dashing piece of red lamé in the front pocket poking out. This is set off by the glittering red loafers and a white Fedora with a red lamé strip around it.

  I nod at Morri’s clothes. “You look festive.”

  “’Tis the season,” he says with a snap of his fingers by his head.

  Indeed.

  ’Tis the season.

  We are five days away from Christmas, and Santa just came early today.

  I had forgotten Mely and Lowe were taking a much overdue and needed honeymoon. They’re going to St. Lucia for a week, and I envy them. Not because it’s overly cold here in North Carolina, although there are some nights it can get down into the twenties, but because I have been working my butt off at the farm and I need a vacation myself. But that I can deal with later. This is much more important.

  “So what’s your news?” Laken asks.

  Mely and Lowe opened Millie’s Bed and Breakfast four weeks ago. They did an amazing job with the decorating and furnishing. When people walk in the front doors, they enter into a large foyer which was turned into a registration area. There’s a curved writing desk with an elegant white leather chair that sits behind it. It holds a leather-bound registration book that guests fill in by hand. The old-fashioned and oversized brass keys to the four rooms upstairs hang on the wall. To the right is a large entryway that leads into a formal sitting room filled with plush seating. Heading through that room toward the rear of the house is another room Mely turned into a dining area. It has six round tables that each sit four people. To the left of the foyer is the kitchen, which is closed off to guests and has become Larkin’s domain.

  About two weeks after opening, Mely had approached Larkin about coming on as a partner in the business. The deal was she would not have to put any money in but would supply both time helping to run the place and coordinating the kitchen staff.

  It turns out Larkin ended up doing a lot of the cooking and baking herself. Of course, she had to hire some extra help over at Sweet Cakes, but she said the money she made at Millie’s more than offset it. Plus, she said she liked the challenge.

  To everyone’s surprise, Millie’s ended up becoming a huge hit. While it wasn’t completely booked every single night, at least three out of the four rooms were usually taken at any time. One of the things that drew people in was that Larkin started having a high tea every Thursday afternoon. This often brought in out-of-town visitors who wanted to get away for a few days and would stay throughout the weekend.

  Morri walks up to me and snaps his fingers in front of my face, causing me to blink and focus in on him. “Morri to Darby… Morri to Darby… Come in, Darby.”

  I laugh and swat him away from me.

  “It’s final,” I say with an excited shake to my voice, holding up the manila envelope that had just come in to the post office. I give a little squeal of excitement.

  Larkin scrambles down the ladder and rushes toward me. She snatches the envelope out of my hands and digs into the opening I had torn into not long ago. She pulls out a multipage document stapled in the upper left corner. Holding it out, she reads it like a proud mom, “Final Divorce Decree.”

  “You’re a free woman,” Laken exclaims as she bounces off the chair and joins us.

  Morri peers over Larkin’s shoulder to look at the most beautiful document in the world. Mitch a
nd I are now officially and legally over. Of course, he’ll always be in my life to some extent. He does have to pay child support for Linnie, and I suppose there will be occasions where he wants to see her. So far since the entire spectacle went down with him torching Colt’s farm, he has not asked to see Linnie once.

  On the flip side, Linnie hasn’t asked to see her dad either.

  I find that incredibly sad because even though I’m not Mitch’s biggest fan, I’m afraid he’s going to end up having massive regrets one day. As for Linnie, she seems to be handling this better than I am. I’ve been told kids are more resilient than adults, and she is making me a believer.

  These days, her life is filled with so much friendship and activity I have to keep a daily planner just so I know where my daughter is.

  “Have you told Colt?” Larkin asks.

  “He was the first call I made,” I tell her. “We’re going to eat dinner tonight at Clementine’s to celebrate.”

  “So much for being a free woman,” Laken mutters.

  Larkin gives a slight punch to her sister’s shoulder. “Be quiet. You have no reason to be teasing anyone when you act like a lovestruck fool every time Jake is around.”

  Laken blushes, and Morri laughs. Larkin holds up a finger as if she has a brilliant idea and says, “Champagne. This calls for champagne.”

  She dashes off into the kitchen, which is closed off from the foyer with a wooden swinging door.

  While we wait for her, I point to the garland and ask, “Y’all are a little late in decorating for Christmas, aren’t you?”

  “Mely put up a Christmas tree in the formal room, but Larkin didn’t think it was enough,” Morri says with a huff. His tone is prissy and irate at the same time. “Why I’m down here volunteering my time and energy to decorate this place is beyond me.”

  “It’s because you have a crush on the FedEx driver, Kelvin. Every time you come to visit, you order stuff to be delivered just so you can see him.”

  Morri gasps and flutters his hand over his heart. “That’s a bald-faced lie.”