“I promise!” CeeCee grinned up at him.
“Are there more Galas?” asked a woman nearby. “I like the lunchbox size—they’re perfect for kids.”
“We’ll bring them right out.” Dave had just emptied a dolly of apples. He tipped his cap to her and hustled into the back of the barn.
“You take over out here.” Jax started to slip by her. “I’ll help keep things stocked.”
“Jax.”
He’d almost gotten by, but he turned back the moment she said his name. She motioned to the crowd of people. Happy, laughing, talking people. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I do.” A wide grin brightened his eyes. “Take care of these people so I can take a break. I haven’t talked to or been pleasant to this many people in one day in, well...” He pretended to think. “Ever. Tag. You’re it.”
She laughed.
It felt good to laugh and talk with people and take care of their orders. CeeCee had clearly jumped right into her role of being the resident charmer, and as she jabbered off apple specs to customers, Libby was amazed at what the kindergartener remembered.
By six o’clock the store looked beat.
Apple stock of the early varieties had been hit hard, but the abundant harvest meant there were dozens of crates tucked in the conditioning cooler. Plums had been wiped out, all but the late varieties, and their festive autumn displays would need to be rebuilt because happy customers had picked them clean.
As she began a list, a Janas Farms truck pulled in to drop off more fall produce.
She turned toward Jax as he helped Dave unload the last of the prebagged apples onto display tables. “You called Mark Janas?”
“I hope that’s all right,” he replied. “I could see what was happening, so I gave them a shout midday. And even though we don’t open until eleven tomorrow morning—”
Sunday mornings had always been a church-first schedule, even during the busy apple season.
“I wanted to get a jump on the day and restock as much as we could tonight. Did I overstep my boundaries?”
“Overstep?” She breathed out a sigh as she kept filling displays. “Not at all. I’m glad you thought of it. But you’ve got to be exhausted. Gert texted me that she’s with Gramps right now. She sent Mortie home. And you’ve been at this all day. CeeCee, too. I think you should both take a rest because we might be breaking Washington State child labor laws.”
Jax didn’t seem worried about CeeCee’s involvement. “She loves this. She’s totally in her element. Still, she probably does need to eat something other than apples and granola bars, so we’ll head back to your house for food once the pumpkins and vegetables have been unloaded. Will Cleve be all right with a bunch of us there?”
“As long as we keep it brief,” she decided. “Gramps loves a crowd. That’s where CeeCee gets it from.” CeeCee was now explaining her goal of getting a dog to anyone who would listen. “I’m better behind the scenes. So was Grandma. But Gramps loved interacting with the public.”
“I think you were amazing out here.” Jax stopped talking long enough to move the dolly of apple crates up the row. “Totally on your game. Extrovert at work.”
When she made a face, he raised an eyebrow. “I’m the opposite of that actually, but none of that mattered when I walked in here and saw Gramps’s dream coming true. A place alive with happy people, excited over pumpkins and apples. It was like when I was little, before he had to go head-to-head with big producers and corporate greed. He’ll love seeing this. This is how Gramps sees farming and orcharding. You’ve set this up to make him very happy, Jax, and I can’t begin to thank you enough. You’ve made an amazing difference here, and we’re all grateful.”
The others had gone outside to help unload the produce truck that had backed up to the pumpkin display. He stopped packing apples onto tables and turned her way. “Except that if I’d gone right over to your house yesterday, Cleve might not have gotten outside. If I hadn’t stopped to kiss you, I might have spared an old man a lot of grief.”
She faced him squarely. “I thought the same thing at first, but then I realized that Gramps is going to be a full-time job no matter what. As tough as that is, all we can do is our best. I’ll bring him here with me every day. Just being around his apples and people might make a difference, but I’m also looking at the reality of the situation.” She hadn’t wanted to get into this now, but there really wasn’t a way out. Yesterday’s scare had shown her that. “Gramps has a DNR.”
Jax’s nod indicated he understood the implication of that.
“He doesn’t want extraneous means. He made it clear in his papers that if God calls him home...” The words made her throat go tight, but she fought the rise of emotion. “He’s ready to go. But if we can give him a beautiful season to remember, that’s the best send-off there is. Gramps has always been a worker bee,” she went on. “It would stress him more to see work left undone and fruit being wasted than it would to see a vibrant business flourishing around him. And as for that kiss?” She tucked one last full-peck bag onto the Granny Smith display and decided to go for the truth. “I thought it was downright amazing and I was kind of hoping you felt the same.”
His quick frown made her heart plummet. Maybe it wasn’t the same for him. Maybe—
He reached out and lightly grazed her cheek with his hand. “On a ranking scale of one to ten, I put it at a firm fourteen, Libby.” His frown turned into a quick, teasing smile. “Just so you know.”
The afternoon work crew was headed their way. She dipped her chin as her cheeks warmed. Time for a change of subject. “For now, I’m getting this kid home and bathed. Pretty sure she’s got lots of stories to tell me tonight.”
“After pizza. Which should—” he glanced at his watch “—be arriving in twenty minutes. With six dozen wings.”
Libby couldn’t remember the last time she’d splurged and ordered pizza, much less chicken wings.
“And while I was quite willing to pay for it,” he went on, “the volunteer fire department chief stopped by midday looking for some way to help you. He said your grandma would show up at every fire scene she could with food and drink for the firemen. He said it didn’t matter how cold or wet or even snowy it was, Carolyn O’Laughlin would roll up to the site with a few other ladies and ladle out soup or pour coffee or hot chocolate or ice-cold sodas alongside trays of sandwiches and cookies. He said she never asked for a dime and would have refused if offered, and the department has never forgotten the true friend they have in the O’Laughlin family.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
She’d refocused the drama with her mother onto what was best for Gramps. That had helped her back-burner that new twist in the road, but the story about Grandma’s generous personality, her gracious nature, choked her up because Grandma had died thinking she’d failed Libby.
Nothing was further from the truth. If anything, Libby had failed herself, but that was over now. She’d taken charge of her life and CeeCee’s, and they were on a good road again.
But the thought of that kindly woman thinking she’d let Libby down stung, because Grandma had always put others first.
“I didn’t meant to upset you.” Concern formed a solid line between Jax’s brows.
She swiped her eyes and shook her head. “You didn’t. It’s the story and knowing my grandma’s selflessness. And just plain missing her because Grandma always knew what to do. I didn’t always listen,” she said softly. “But that woman could face any situation and see the ins and outs and put a plan in motion. She was the best example there could have been and I only wish I’d listened more carefully. Of course, if I had, I wouldn’t have CeeCee, so maybe it’s all part of God’s plan.”
CeeCee dashed across the restocked apple section just then, skidded to a stop and twirled. “I am going to wear my reddest red dress to church tomorrow because re
d is for apples and it’s the best color ever for apple season,” she announced. “Unless you’re a green apple,” she supposed then, eyeing the Granny Smith display. “So that means I’ll wear green for those apples next week and then every apple will be so happy!”
Libby lifted the little girl up and kissed her sweet cheek. “It is impossible to worry too much when Miss Cecelia Creighton is around.” She smiled right into Jax’s eyes. “I’m taking this cute kid home and eating pizza. Will you make sure everyone’s invited?”
“I sure will.”
She carried CeeCee back to the truck. She didn’t care that the girl was big enough to walk. She cared about precious moments with her child, watching her grow, helping her be the best person she could be.
Seeing her among the apples today didn’t just spark a memory of another little girl over twenty years ago.
It ignited a tiny hope for what might be a future. A future for her grandparents’ farm. If she could make enough money this season to fuel next year’s production, she might be able to pull this off. Sure, she’d need to hire help, but with frugal spending and good oversight, maybe O’Laughlin Orchards wouldn’t have to close.
“I loved being with all those people, Mommy.” CeeCee laid her head against Libby’s shoulder, then drew it right back up again. “But mostly I love being with you and my gramps and Mr. Jax and my teacher. Because you all love me so much!”
She hugged CeeCee before letting her climb onto the seat.
She’d messed up a lot of things, but not this child. Through the turbulence and bad times, she’d protected her daughter. CeeCee would grow up surrounded by love and cleanliness and wholesome apples. It couldn’t get better than that.
But as she settled into the driver’s seat, a different image appeared.
Jax’s face. That smile. The memory of a kiss she couldn’t erase.
He was kind and helpful and had jumped in with both feet to help. Was he a rare man or had her past left her jaded and untrusting?
Maybe both, she decided as she drove up the road. But being around Jax McClaren made her want to trust again. That could either be wonderfully good or a fool’s option, and she was determined to never be fooled again.
Chapter Fourteen
Jax got to the apple barn early the next morning. Libby was taking Cleve and CeeCee to church, so he was a one-man crew to get things righted before they opened at eleven.
He could have gone with them. CeeCee had invited him and Cleve had promised to hold him a seat. Of course, he probably forgot that offer minutes after he made it, but the sincerity was there.
He rolled crates of apples out of the cooler and started bagging them. He usually tried to avoid mindless work that gave him too much time to think, but not today. Today it was just fine.
He whistled softly as he bagged. He hadn’t bagged this many apples since he was a young boy. Kids didn’t bag apples at CVF anymore. Robotic machines gently sorted, turned, washed, dried and crated the fruit into pressed paper packaging to avoid bruising. So different from its humble origins. But then, CVF was marketing internationally to hundreds of thousands of customers, the beauty of Washington Perfect fruit gracing tables around the world.
But this—
“Hey, farm boy, want some help?”
He turned, surprised to hear his brother Ken’s voice. “Why aren’t you at church? And yes, of course I do. I’ve got ninety minutes to get this place back into shape.”
“I’m praying over here this morning. Dad said you guys did thousands of dollars yesterday. We figured some extra hands might be in order. We’ll leave before the family gets back.” He jutted his chin toward the back door as their younger brother, Andrew, came in. “How about we bag and you go fix the fall displays?”
Jax read between the lines. If someone drove by and recognized his brothers, Libby would hear of it.
“Sounds good.” He moved out front and began restocking the pumpkins and gourds they’d unloaded the night before. He righted the huge display of cornstalks, and watered nearly two hundred mums. They’d sold over a hundred the previous day, and it felt good to see cars and SUVs stuffed with farm goods as they drove away.
So many happy people. Happy to buy apples and veggies and pumpkins. Happy with life as if being happy was a simple task.
It used to be.
The mental reminder nudged gently.
When you were helping Grandma Molly and tending baby trees and learning the art of grafting from your grandfather. You were at peace, then.
He was, he realized, but he realized something else, too. He’d never borne the weight of other people’s demise on his shoulders then, so it was easy to be happy. To embrace life and feel good.
And this felt good now.
Handling produce, building displays, even interacting with the people yesterday, a role thrust on him because of Cleve’s misfortune. He’d stayed out on the perimeters of life since coming home, but he not only enjoyed yesterday’s role of interacting with customers—he’d loved it.
“Hey, we’re heading out now, before someone spots us.” Andrew jogged his way and barreled into him with a big hug, the kind that used to turn into a family room wrestling match. “This looks great, jerk.”
“Moron.” He noogied his brother’s head good-naturedly. “Thanks for coming over. I needed the help.”
“Duh.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Next time ask, why don’t you? Making people guess isn’t the best way to get things done. Don’t be dumb.”
“I won’t. Mostly.”
Andrew’s words made him think as the men drove back toward Quincy.
He’d made people guess what was going on inside him, mostly because he wasn’t sure what was going on himself. That was changing now.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled. His therapist had sent him the referral for the newly developed treatment.
He quickly called and left a voice mail for the Seattle-based practitioner. He wouldn’t hear anything back on a Sunday, but that didn’t matter. He’d made the move and that was what he needed to do.
CeeCee, Cleve and Libby arrived a few minutes later. Gert and her husband showed up with two dozen frosted cinnamon rolls from a popular Wenatchee bakery, and a pair of college girls rolled in at ten forty-five and donned apple-red aprons.
Libby motioned them over. “Samantha and Tori, right?”
The taller girl raised her hand. “Samantha.”
“Which makes me Tori,” said the shorter girl.
“And don’t tell Mr. Moyer I said this, but this place looks amazing,” Samantha continued. “It’s like a dream country store!”
“Samantha and Tori used to work over at Moyer’s apple stand near Wenatchee,” Libby told Jax. “He told me how good they were, but I couldn’t afford to hire them until we made some money. Now we have, thanks to you.”
He didn’t want credit for helping. “You grew the apples and you have the eye for this stuff. I just do what I’m told.”
She laughed.
He loved hearing her laugh. He loved seeing her joy, and maybe someday she’d tell him about that scar along her left jaw.
Maybe she wouldn’t, and that would be all right, too. She told him that she refused to let her past govern her present.
Wise words.
Samantha and Tori handled the inside customers with Gert and CeeCee’s help, he and Libby took care of the outside ones, and it took all of them to keep an eye on Cleve.
“He’s in his element,” noted Jax as Cleve explained which apples were best for pies and canning to a group of middle-aged women.
“The art of the sale is never lost on Gramps, but our barn never looked this fancy, even in its prime,” Libby replied. “I loved being able to help with this, to see how it would be to grow a business up from the ground floor. I’ve got a slew of ideas for next year,” she went on. �
��Wouldn’t it be fun to grow my own pumpkins and gourds? And I bet I could grow mums, too, I’m good with that kind of thing. Then I don’t have to remarket all of this, I can be the direct sale point. No middleman means better prices for customers and better profit margin for the farmer.”
She was still thinking of staying in business on her own. Was she serious?
One look into her shining eyes said yes.
She’d managed to get through this first year, so maybe she could do it. Women in his family weren’t afraid to work alongside the men, and Aunt Connie wielded as much Ingerson clout as any of her brothers. “That first section of trees should come down,” he noted as he finished resetting the pumpkin display corner. “If those were taken down quickly, there’d be time to work that land up for produce next year. It’s about a six-acre plot.”
“That’s a lot of pumpkins.”
Her expression made him laugh. “It sure is. But I don’t think you’ll have any trouble selling them. Not from the looks of this weekend, despite this short break in the action.”
“Something to think about. And plan for. And it looks like our little lull is over,” she noted as three cars rolled into the gravel lot. They were immediately followed by two more.
He withdrew his phone and touched the screen. “Seattle just kicked off to LA. I expect we’ll see our share of moms and kids this afternoon.”
“Football?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cleve came their way as the cars pulled in. He paused, greeted the customers, then rounded the cars. “We’ve got a lot of business going on today, don’t we?”
“Sure do, Gramps. It’s wonderful.” Libby had been readjusting mums so the display looked fuller even though they’d sold dozens already. She paused and hugged his arm. “Like old times, huh?”
He grinned. “Just what we needed. Exactly what I hoped for. I couldn’t be happier, Dianna.”
A Hopeful Harvest (Golden Grove Book 1) Page 12