She’d thought all the tears her body could produce had already flowed. She’d been wrong. Burning heat seared her eyes, and she blinked hard to gain a semblance of control.
Her dad sat on a counter stool where he’d obviously been talking with Gabe. She should’ve been there for that. Should’ve been the buffer. It was all too late. The only way out was forward.
“Dad?” She cleared her throat and tried again, a little louder. “Dad, I’d like you to meet my… friend, Tyrell Burke. Tyrell, this is my father, Tim.”
Her dad stood and rounded the dining room table to shake Tyrell’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tyrell.” But then he turned slightly aside and raised his eyebrows at her.
She gave her head a slight shake. “And I know Mom is here somewhere. Mom? This is Tyrell Burke. Tyrell, this is my mom. Sandra.”
Tyrell removed his arm from around Sierra’s waist — thankfully — and took Mom’s outstretched hand in both of his. “Pleased to meet you, Sandra. Now I see where Sierra gets her ravishing beauty.”
Oh, good grief. Couldn’t he manage to sound more genuine?
“My sister Chelsea is the blonde over by the window with her friend Allison Hart, who will be joining us at Green Acres next spring. And my brother Jacob is around here somewhere. I think you know everyone else.” She could only hope.
Tyrell nodded toward the girls as they looked up and acknowledged the introduction with a little wave.
Mom pulled her hand out from Tyrell’s grip and tossed a quizzical glance at Sierra.
“So, uh, Tyrell,” Dad said. “Let’s have a seat, and you can tell me a bit about yourself.”
“I should help get food on the table,” murmured Sierra, stepping away.
Tyrell’s hand caught hers. “Looks like they’ve got lots of help in the kitchen, doll. I’m sure they’ll excuse you.” He towed her into the great room, where folding chairs had been pulled out of storage to accommodate the large group.
Sierra allowed herself to be seated next to Tyrell, with Dad on the other side of her. A buffer again. She sent up a quick prayer. She was going to need all the help she could get.
“To answer your question, I own the largest apiary in the Idaho Panhandle. You could say that sweet things rule my life.” Tyrell winked broadly at Sierra.
Oh, man.
“Ah, so that must be how you met Sierra?”
“Tyrell’s dad was teaching the beginning beekeeper course when I started. Tyrell bought him out since then.”
“I see.” Dad nodded. “I see.”
“And you, Mr. Riehl?”
“The name is Tim,” Dad said. “I drive a truck.”
“Oh.”
Couldn’t Tyrell even pretend to be interested? “Dad used to drive a reefer — a refrigerated truck — but now he delivers freight for Home Depot in the Portland area.”
“Do you have a flat-bed? I’m looking to hire one to haul hives to California in a month or so.”
“No. I don’t have my own. I’m just a driver.”
“Oh.” Tyrell glanced around the room and shifted in his seat. “If you know of anyone, I’d appreciate the tip.”
“Sorry. Not my area of expertise.”
This was all two grown men could think of for a conversation? “When you come back in spring, Dad, you should see Tyrell’s set-up. I’ve learned so much about beekeeping from him and his father.”
Dad’s brow furrowed. “Thought you said you were hauling your hives away. What will there be to see?”
Tyrell waved a hand. “Oh, they’re just going south for almond pollination. I’ll bring them back when it’s spring here and flowers are blooming.”
“That sounds… interesting.” Dad glanced at Sierra.
If she was supposed to support Tyrell in this one, he was out of luck.
“Almond pollination is where the real money is with bees.” Tyrell leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I also lease hives around here to orchardists for pollination. The honey is a nice byproduct, but I sell it by the barrel to big distribution plants. Can’t be bothered to do like your daughter here, bottle it all up and sell it in small lots.”
“We make considerably more per pound,” Sierra reminded him.
Tyrell shook his head. “But it’s so labor intensive. I’d have to hire more help, and my profits would go down instead of up. Then I’d have to sell the stuff, too. Not worth the headache.”
Just as well. If Tyrell got into her local markets, he’d flood them, and then where would she be?
“I see,” said Dad. “I can understand you’d want to make the most profit.”
Sierra cast her father a sharp look, which he ignored. It wasn’t like him to put money first.
Tyrell chuckled. “Of course. That’s what this life is all about, right? He who dies with the most, wins.”
“Not if he dies without Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, Tyrell. It’s a strange sort of winning that sets a man up for losing the ultimate game for eternity.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way.” Tyrell’s hands swept the words away. “I was introduced to salvation just a couple of years ago. I must say it’s made a big difference in my way of thinking.”
Dad’s eyebrows went up.
“I’ve even done my stint at teaching Sunday school at the local church, Mr. Riehl. Sierra knows.”
And he’d dumped it back on Gabe without a second thought. How had she gotten stuck in this situation again? Why wasn’t Gabe the one her dad needed to get to know? They’d been talking when she came in.
Before Tyrell.
She was to blame for Tyrell’s presence. For the whole big mess. For the hurt hardening in Gabe’s eyes. Would he come back and try to win her again?
Doubt it. She’d done her best to push him away. She’d never let a guy come this close before. Lots of flirtation, lots of dates, lots of easy come and go. A game for teens. For college kids. Not a game for a woman who desperately wanted to be treasured and secure.
“Even so, a man needs to plan ahead.” Tyrell winked at her. “Especially when he’s found a girl to impress.”
Impress? He did this for looks? “Excuse me.” Sierra veered through the crowded room toward the hallway and the privacy of the bathroom.
Oh, Lord, how was she going to get out of this disaster?
* * *
“I don’t know what to say.” Zach dumped a huge bag of salad greens into the sink Gabe had just rinsed out.
Oh yeah? Gabe’s new plan was to eat alone in the kitchen and climb out the window when he was done.
“You didn’t know she’d invited him?”
Zach shook his head. “No clue. I feel for you.”
Like sympathy made things any better. Gabe grabbed a handful of lettuce and ripped it to smithereens. Pretending it was Burke helped. Except maybe everyone else didn’t want pulverized salad. Who knew? Maybe it would be a new fad.
Zach bumped Gabe’s elbow. “I think I’d better do this part.”
Gabe held his ground. “There is no way I’m going out there.” He grabbed more lettuce.
“Didn’t say you had to. Just don’t kill the food.”
“Yeah. I’ll try.”
Rosemary breezed into the kitchen. “Someone said it was time to make gravy?”
“Want to double-check the bird, Mom? It’s still in the oven. The thermometer is only up to one-sixty.”
“You kids and your temperatures. Did you wiggle the drum? Press into the thigh?”
Zach laughed. “It’s Claire’s kitchen. I just do as I’m told.”
“That’d be a first.” Rosemary opened the oven and peered in. “Can someone get this out for me?”
Noel sprang to her side and lifted the huge roasting pan to the butcher-block island. “Oh, look, it’s reached temperature. The turkey website says it will continue to cook a few degrees while it’s resting. What do you think, Rosemary?”
She wiggled the thighbone. “I’d say it’s done.”
Gabe
turned back to the lettuce in the sink. The last few years he’d had Thanksgiving with the orphans, his parents, and other missionaries in Romania. Mom and Jillian had prepared the fanciest spread they could afford, which hadn’t included turkey. The wide eyes of all the children were still impressed.
He missed them. He should’ve stayed over there and never returned to Galena Landing. How could he have known he’d come back and get his heart stomped all over? It was the past he hadn’t been able to face. Now he couldn’t face the future either.
Zach dumped potato water into another pot in the other side of the sink then carried the liquid to Rosemary. He came back with butter and milk. “Mom’s the resident gravy expert,” he murmured, digging in a nearby drawer for a masher.
“I’m a fool, Nemesek.”
Zach poured a good-sized glug of milk onto the potatoes. “Don’t think so, man.”
“I should’ve known better. I never intended this.”
His buddy glanced his way. “A guy doesn’t plan to fall in love. It just happens.”
Had he fallen in love? He had. Hard. He’d told her, too. A lump formed in Gabe’s throat. “Well, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“Dude.” Zach shoved the masher deep into the spuds. “I know things look dismal at the moment.”
Gabe barked a sharp laugh. “Understatement.”
“But everyone in this house is rooting for you. Well, with the obvious exception of Burke.”
“And Sierra.”
“You think she looks happy?”
“No, but apparently I didn’t make her happy either.”
“You did at first.” Zach mashed. “What happened?”
“You asked before. I still don’t know. Chelsea, maybe.”
“Oh, no wonder I came in here,” Chelsea chirped. “I didn’t know you guys were talking about me.”
Gabe stifled a groan as he closed his eyes. Of all things for Sierra’s sister to overhear.
“Question for you, Chelsea,” said Zach.
“Hmm?”
“What has turned Sierra into such a grump? Can’t help but notice she hasn’t been her usual sunny self the last few weeks. I thought you might know.”
Gabe canted his body so he could see Chelsea without looking at her directly.
She was staring at him, eyes wide and her mouth a perfect ‘o’ before she snapped it shut. “There’s some… stuff… going on.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Thank you, Zach, for taking point on this one.
“When is she going to let the rest of us in on it?”
Chelsea’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two guys. “Soon. Look, I’d tell you, but I promised to keep her confidence, okay? I can’t break that.”
“I guess that’s reasonable.” Zach glanced at Gabe.
No way was he meeting his friend’s eyes. Or Chelsea’s. Man. Awkward. Painful.
“So long as she isn’t going to keep us in the dark forever.”
“No. I promise.”
Gabe pivoted. “It’s Burke, isn’t it? She just didn’t know how to tell me she’d rather be with him than me.”
Chelsea bit her lip. “That’s not quite true.”
He’d had enough. “Which part is true? Which part isn’t? Because I assume she’s the one who invited Burke to dinner today, and she certainly didn’t invite me. Looks to me like she’s made up her mind.”
Chelsea put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. “So she doesn’t look happy. She chose, Chelsea. She chose Burke.” He jabbed a finger toward the great room, thankfully hidden around the corner. “That’s pretty obvious.”
“Give her a bit more time, Gabe. Please.”
Echoes of Sierra. “I think she’s had enough time, don’t you? Seriously?”
Chelsea hesitated. “No. Not quite.”
He laughed harshly. “Well, you’re wrong.”
Chapter 28
This was worse than sitting next to Tyrell through an interminably long and quiet Thanksgiving dinner. Worse than Gabe giving no further acknowledgment that she existed. Worse than the thought of cancer.
Maybe.
Mom paced the open area in Sierra’s duplex. It didn’t take very many steps before she had to pivot and start again. “We’re just concerned, that’s all.”
“Very concerned.” Dad’s eyes followed Mom. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Sierra pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tight.
Jacob snorted. “Dude’s full of himself.”
“He’s really nice. I don’t know why you can’t see that.” Maybe because it was harder and harder for Sierra to see it herself.
“He’s such a new Christian,” Dad said.
“You can’t hold that against him. The only way that can change is for time to go by. He’ll mature. He already has.” Some. Not a lot.
Why did she feel like she had to stand up for Tyrell? Wouldn’t it be better to be single than married to him? No. Yes. Yes?
“What about Gabriel?” Mom went on. “He seems like such a nice young man. Rather quiet, though.”
“Not too quiet one on one,” said Dad. “At least before dinner.”
“Seriously! It’s not like a woman chooses a… a man like picking one pumpkin over another. It’s far more complex than that.”
Mom stopped in front of Chelsea, who’d been curled up in the corner, silent. “You’ve been here a few times this fall. What do you think?”
If telepathy worked, her sister would hear her. Don’t tell. Don’t tell. Don’t tell.
“I’d rather not get involved.” Chelsea may have been speaking to their mother, but her gaze was snared on Sierra’s. “Sierra is old enough to know what she’s doing.”
Mom threw up her hands and stalked away. “I counted on your bond to bring her to reason.”
Sierra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Should she explain everything to her family? But she couldn’t. Not yet. A few more days. Of course, they’d be back in Portland by then. This was her chance to clear the air face to face.
Mom stopped in front of Sierra, hands on her hips. “There’s only one thing that comes to mind that explains all this. Are you pregnant with Tyrell Burke’s baby?”
“No!” Sierra surged to her feet, eye to eye with her mother. “You know me better than that.” So much for her parents giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“I thought I did.” Mom waved both hands around. “But it doesn’t seem true anymore. I don’t know what is going on and, if you won’t tell us, you leave us wide open to speculation.”
“I am not pregnant. Not by Tyrell. Not by anyone.”
“Fine then.” Mom whirled away. “I don’t know what else could be so secretive.”
“I promise I’ll tell you soon. It’s just… I can’t right now.”
“See, that’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. There is something behind all this. Tell me if you love Tyrell Burke.”
“I do.” Maybe Sierra hesitated a second too long.
Mom shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
Her temper surged. “Then why did you ask?”
Dad pulled to his feet and captured Mom’s hands. “Love is patient. Love is kind. Love wants the best for someone else. It endures everything for that to happen.”
She watched her parents gaze deeply into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. What they had. She wanted it.
Her father turned to Sierra. “When there is love, there is also evidence of love. That’s what your mother is trying to say. You say you love this man, but we’re not seeing the evidence of it in your relationship.”
“We just don’t want you to make a huge mistake.” Mom sniffled.
Dad went on. “That young man is all about himself. Even when he spoke of you, it was superficial. Not what characteristics of yours drew him to you, but what you could do for him. That you turn heads wherever you go together.”
“Scum,” s
aid Jacob.
Sierra turned to her sister, but Chelsea shook her head.
Great. She was on her own. Nothing new.
“We want you to be happy, Sierra,” Mom said more gently. “We want you to have a marriage based on the principles in God’s word, to someone who loves you and respects you.”
Tyrell couldn’t give that to her. Sierra knew it. She’d always known it. Why had she led him on? Why, oh why, had she perversely invited him to Thanksgiving?
She’d asked for this whole charade. For all the pain this day had caused.
“Thanks, Mom. That’s what I want, too.” She made a show of yawning as she stretched both arms over her head. “It’s been a long day. I’m headed for bed. Coming, Chels?”
Her sister shook her head. “Not yet. I’ll be quiet when I come in.”
“Your dad and I will retire now as well.” Mom’s eyes burned Sierra. “To pray for you.”
“Well, um, good night.” Sierra fled to her room, thankful her sister wasn’t following just yet. Praying sounded like a good idea.
* * *
Doreen’s headlights glared in Gabe’s rearview mirror all the way back to town. Her car pulled in beside his when he parked beside the store’s back door.
Gabe sighed. How could he explain the situation to Doreen when he’d been blindsided himself?
Burke the Jerk. Smug as all get out, smirking around the Thanksgiving table. How had the loser become the winner?
Doreen leaned against the hood of her car, her breath billowing on the frigid November air. She shoved her hands in her pockets and waited.
Gabe’s hands itched to shove the gearshift into reverse then peel out of here, never to return.
He would, too. Just not tonight. Sierra had asked for six months. He should’ve made her promise the same. With a harsh laugh, he jammed the hand brake on and climbed out of the car.
“We need to talk, Gabe.”
“Not tonight. Can’t you see I’ve had enough?”
“You’re angry.”
“You bet your bottom dollar I am.” He could think of a few more words. Humiliated came to mind.
A Farm Fresh Romance Series 1-3 (A Farm Fresh Romance Box Set) Page 72