Almost Married

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by Carol Grace


  And suddenly there it was, the Jeep dealer with its showroom full of shiny new Jeeps and an eager salesman rushing out to greet them.

  “Perfect vehicle for the whole family,” the salesman assured them, looking at Laurie who was holding Morgan.

  “No, we really don’t—”

  “Something larger, more comfortable?”

  “I don’t think so, you see we’re just—”

  “Just looking,” the salesman said with a knowing wink. “Go right ahead.”

  Laurie exchanged a helpless look with Cooper before they made their way to the service desk where they promptly obtained a new key for their vehicle.

  “We don’t look like a family, do we?” Cooper asked Laurie on their way back to the Falls under clearing skies.

  “Of course not,” she assured him, stealing a glance at his profile to admire his firm jaw, his jutting lower lip. “That’s just what salesmen say. We look like...like a woman with her friend’s baby and the man who took pity on them when she messed things up.”

  He gave her a half smile. “That’s really what we look like?”

  She nodded, wishing she could capture that rare smile, so she could remember it after he’d left, but it was gone in an instant. When they pulled up next to the Jeep in the parking lot at Niagara Falls, Laurie buckled Morgan back into her car seat and then stood for a moment, uncertain of what to say. Thank you was getting pretty old.

  “Thanks again,” she said at last.

  He gave her a long look without saying anything and she wondered if he’d suggest seeing her again. But instead he took her by the shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. The kiss had goodbye written all over it.

  “Bye,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Good grief, even after all they’d been through together, she hardly knew this man. Why shouldn’t he say goodbye with a kiss, and why should she be upset if he did? It was just that she felt so grateful, so indebted, and now she wouldn’t have a chance to repay him for all he’d done for her. That’s what was bothering her. Sure it was.

  “Will you be all right?” he asked, stepping back to look at her.

  “Of course we will. But what about you? I hope you don’t get into trouble for not coming to work today.”

  “I won’t. Thanks for your hospitality.” And then he was gone, walking briskly through the parking lot toward the hotel. Not a word about keeping in touch, or ever seeing her again. Not even a mention of Morgan who clearly adored him. Nothing about give my regards to Steve when you see him. No, he was clearly eager to get away. As soon as possible.

  She started the Jeep with the new key and drove slowly back to the farm when Morgan began to cry. “Don’t you start,” Laurie warned over her shoulder, “or we’ll both be crying. I told you he’s not interested in us. You’ll just have to accept that.” But how could she expect Morgan to accept it if Laurie couldn’t?

  Coop stopped at the hotel only long enough to shower and change clothes, then he went to the power station where he stared at the giant turbines thinking there was no point in seeing Laurie again. Because it wouldn’t work, not even as a short-term fling, not as anything. Yes, she was an irresistible combination of cool, blond good looks on the surface and passion underneath, but he’d vowed never to take a chance again. It wasn’t worth it. No amount of pleasure was worth the pain he’d endured.

  The best thing he could do right now was to bury himself in his work and forget her. He had to stop pretending he had only been doing her a favor by taking her in and driving her around when the truth was he couldn’t seem to say goodbye. Even today, he’d kissed her farewell instead of saying it. How long would it take to forget her eyes, the color of autumn leaves and the petal softness of her skin? A few days maybe, but that was all. That’s all the time he’d need.

  But when she called him three days later, his heart did a half gainer in his chest at just the sound of her voice. She sounded hesitant and he could hear Morgan crying in the background. The sound he hated most.

  “I hate to bother you,” she began, “but I don’t know who else to call.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s the apples.”

  He heaved a sigh of relief. No lost keys, no rescue mission. “The apples? What’s wrong with the apples?”

  “They’re ripe ahead of schedule. Gretel and Steve are still in Washington. I don’t want to spoil their vacation, but there aren’t enough workers to get the apples off the trees in time and I’m just not sure what I should do.” She ran out of breath. “Am I overreacting?” she asked herself as well as Cooper.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “What do you want me to do?”

  “There’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry to bother you, but I had to tell someone.”

  “What do you mean there’s nothing I can do? I can pick apples.”

  “You can?”

  “Anybody can pick apples.”

  “But you have a job.”

  “It’s almost over. There’s not that much to do except wrap things up.”

  She sucked in her breath. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Cooper didn’t hesitate. He didn’t dare examine his motives for offering to help. All he knew was nothing could stop him from going back to the orchard. They might miss his presence at the power plant, but they didn’t need him. Laurie needed him. It was as simple as that. Sure it was. “I’m on my way,” he said. And he was.

  After checking on Morgan who was napping peacefully, Laurie changed into an old pair of jeans she found in Gretel’s closet and a ragged sweatshirt and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

  She was in the orchard when Cooper found her, on top of a ladder she’d propped against the tree, repeating to herself what Gretel’s farm hand had said. “The apple should break at the weakened point where the stem joins the fruiting spear,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” he asked, startling her so much she almost fell off the ladder. “I’m trying not to tear off next year’s crop by pulling off the leaves and the fruiting spear, whatever that is.” She held an apple in her hand and stared at it intently, so she wouldn’t have to look down at his face and into his eyes. Just the sound of his voice was enough to set her legs shaking and she didn’t want to start this venture by falling into his arms.

  She shifted her weight carefully and braced herself against the tree trunk. Say something, she told herself. Say thanks for coming. Say you’re glad to see him, even if glad isn’t quite the word. She looked down into his eyes at last and her heart banged against her ribs. He was better looking than she remembered. Wearing old jeans and a flannel shirt with holes in the elbows, his hair a little longer, his eyes a little bluer, he looked as if he was ready for work. But she still wasn’t sure why he was here. She kept telling herself his willingness had nothing to do with her.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said breathlessly, as if she’d just climbed a mountain instead of an apple tree. “You must think I can’t do anything by myself.”

  “You can’t pick an entire orchard by yourself,” he said, glancing around the acres of ripe fruit trees. “No one can.”

  “The staff is here,” she said, “the people who work year-round, spraying and pruning, so we’re not alone. But we’ll never get all the apples off the trees until the seasonal workers get here, and they’re busy elsewhere. Darn this unusual weather.”

  “We can only try.”

  “You don’t have to try. It’s not your responsibility.”

  “Maybe not but I have an obligation to Steve. He’d do the same for me.”

  “If you had an orchard.”

  “Or if I needed help.” The look in his eyes was faraway. Remembering.. .brooding. His forehead creased into a frown. “How will we pick apples with a baby around?”

  “I’ll think of something,” Laurie said quickly.

  She looked down at Cooper with one arm wrapped around the smooth bark of the tree and hoped against hope that they could pull it off, pick the apples
, take care of Morgan, save the crop and the farm, too. And that she wouldn’t lose her head or her heart in the bargain.

  She didn’t know him, this man standing beneath her with his arms across his chest, but somehow she knew that if anyone could help her, it was Cooper. She was staring down at him, he was staring up at her. Was this any way to get the apples picked?

  Finally he put one hand on the ladder and asked in a low voice, “Are you coming down or shall I come up?”

  Laurie felt her limbs turn to jelly. There was something so seductive about his voice, about the way he looked at her as if he might come up the ladder and pick her like a ripe apple. She gulped and unwrapped her arm from the tree. Then she dangled one foot in the general direction of the top rung of the ladder. But she couldn’t find it. She reached for a branch, but it snapped off in her hand. And she felt herself falling, branches scratching her arms until she landed with an unceremonious whoosh in the arms of Cooper Buckingham and knocked him to the ground.

  The world spun around in dizzying confusion, but when she opened her eyes she was lying on top of him, her breasts pressed against his rock-hard chest, her pelvic bones locked against his. Her hair had come loose from the rubber band and was fanned out across his cheek.

  “I’m terribly sorry about this,” she gasped, trying to raise herself off him. But she didn’t have the strength. She fell back onto him, her face cradled against his collarbone.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked in a hollow voice.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just can’t move.”

  “Then don’t,” he advised, wrapping his arms around her, his hands splayed across her round, firm bottom.

  But she did move. She had to. She couldn’t stay that way, resting on top of him forever, his hands moving along the side of her thighs, causing tremors to race up and down her legs. She rolled off him. “Did I hurt you?” she asked with an anxious glance into his dark, penetrating eyes.

  He shook his head, then reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “When I told you to come down, I didn’t mean without the ladder.”

  “I know.” She was going to explain how it happened as soon as he took his hand away from her hair, as soon as he stopped looking at her as if she was a juicy McIntosh apple he’d like to bite into, when someone shouted at her from across the field. Only then was she able to get to her knees and let Cooper help her to her feet, her very unsteady feet.

  “It’s Gretel’s new foreman,” she explained, brushing the dirt off her pants. He’s going to work part-time year-round and full-time during the harvest. He said he’d come by today.” Her voice shook slightly.

  The grizzled old man met them halfway across the orchard. “Glad I found you,” he said, tipping his cap to Laurie. “I knocked on your back door but all’s I heard was a baby crying.”

  Laurie’s mouth flew open in alarm. “Oh, no, Morgan.” She shot Cooper a desperate look. “Would you mind, just for a minute, while I talk to Mr. Ames?”

  He didn’t say yes and he didn’t say no, he just shrugged and walked toward the house. Of course she could have gone herself and left Cooper with Mr. Ames, but he didn’t know what to ask and she did. And then there was the fact that Cooper was better able to deal with Morgan than she was. She watched him go then turned her attention to the picking and packing of apples for market.

  The cries reached Coop’s ears as he neared the house. Unforgettably, unmistakably Morgan. He sprinted down the long hall to her bedroom, having no idea what he’d do when he got there. As it turned out, he didn’t have to do anything. Just stand there. As soon as she saw him, Morgan stopped crying, waved her hands enthusiastically and fairly begged to be picked up.

  But he didn’t want to pick her up. Didn’t know how to pick her up. Besides she might be wet or hungry. Or both. He stared down at her and she cooed and smiled up at him. It was the smile that did it. He had no choice. She knew how to get to him. He reached for her and picked her up with two hands, like a football, and held her out in front of him.

  “Hello, Morgan,” he said, looking into her pale blue eyes. “How are you?”

  She chortled as if he’d just said something witty and he felt a wave of pride. For making her laugh. For making her stop crying. “Don’t tell me you need a clean diaper.” She grinned toothlessly and he gritted his teeth. “Okay, you win. A clean diaper it is,” he said under his breath. Still holding her like a football, a fragile football made of glass, he moved down the hall to the bathroom and set her down on a wide counter covered with a waterproof pad. Under the counter was a package of disposable diapers. With one hand he unsnapped the soft pink fuzzy sleeper she wore and held her with the other so she wouldn’t roll off.

  Thai he pulled off the old wet diaper and slid a new one under her bottom, closing it shut with the tape provided. When he held her up in front of him, the diaper slid off onto the floor.

  “What did I do wrong?” he asked with a puzzled frown.

  Morgan kicked her legs. He put her back down and tried again. This time he wrapped the adhesive tape tightly and quickly stuffed her arms and legs back into the sleeper. He snapped her up again so she wouldn’t lose the diaper and hoped for the best.

  Exhausted, he leaned back against the wall and looked down at the baby. “Now what?” he asked her. He was trapped. He had to find Laurie, but he couldn’t leave the baby here. She might start crying again and he couldn’t stand to hear her cry. He guessed she probably knew that.

  Then he’d have to take her with him. He carried Morgan back into her room where he found her backpack in her closet, put her in it, then swung the pack on his back and headed out to the orchard. The next time, however, he’d talk to the apple man and Laurie would take care of Morgan. Picking apples had to be a lot easier than taking care of a baby.

  Laurie was standing under a tree while Mr. Ames explained the proper picking procedure when the man suddenly looked up and said, “Here comes your husband.”

  Startled to see Morgan riding on Cooper’s back, she said, “He’s not my husband.”

  “Your baby then.”

  “No. My friend’s.”

  “Your friend’s husband, too?” he asked, looking puzzled.

  “No. No one’s husband.” She took a deep breath. “My friend’s baby and my friend’s orchard. That’s why I don’t know anything about picking apples. Or anything about men,” she muttered under her breath. Cooper was striding purposefully toward her, no doubt anxious to get rid of Morgan. But Morgan looked positively delighted to be bouncing along on Cooper’s back. “I’m Gretel’s... Mrs. Lundgren’s friend. That’s why I’m here,” she said, making one last attempt to explain.

  “Everything okay?” Laurie asked anxiously, lifting Morgan out of the backpack.

  “Just wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “I changed her diaper,” he added.

  “Thank you,” she breathed. “Mr. Ames, here, was just explaining how to pick apples.”

  “Just telling your wife, here.” He stopped and scratched his head. “I mean your friend’s wife, or is it your wife’s friend, that you got to gently cup each apple, then lift and twist it like so.” He paused and twisted an apple off a low-hanging branch. “That way the apples’ll stay fresh longer and the new buds will grow on the tree next year.”

  “Cup, lift and twist,” Coop repeated. “I got it.”

  “Quick learner,” Mr. Ames said, raising an eyebrow in Cooper’s direction.

  “Amazing,” Coop said with a self-deprecating flash of humor. “I learned to change a diaper and pick an apple and the day isn’t over yet.” He stared off thoughtfully at the acres of trees that seemed to go on forever. “What about a machine?” he asked. “Wouldn’t that work better?”

  “Some growers use mechanical pickers,” Mr. Ames said, “that shake the fruit from the tree. But those apples are used for applesauce and juice.”

  Coop shook his head with a smile. “I mean for changing diapers.”

  Mr. Ames strok
ed his chin for a moment. “Well, if you folks need any advice, about picking apples that is, let me know.” With a nod he walked slowly across the field to his truck parked on the road outside the property, shaking his grizzled head as he went at the odd threesome who looked like a family but weren’t. Who didn’t look at all like apple pickers... but were.

  Laurie rested Morgan on one hip and stared off after Mr. Ames, stifling the urge to call him back. To tell him she hadn’t understood a word of what he said about scooping, lifting and twisting. Even if she had, how could they do anything, how could they even make a dent on this orchard with its acres of green, red and yellow apples, without the full complement of workers who were working elsewhere for the next two weeks.

  Cooper seemed just as baffled as she was. Only instead of staring at the retreating figure of the apple expert, he was staring at her, as if she had a clue about what to do next.

  “Well,” she said, shifting Morgan to the other hip. “Shall we get started?”

  Cooper looked at her as if she’d suggested they roll over the Falls in a barrel. He let his gaze sweep across the endless fruit trees then come back to Laurie. “Sure,” he said. “What are you going to do with.. .her?” He jerked his thumb in Morgan’s direction.

  Laurie had the feeling he’d almost said “it” instead of “her.” But she wasn’t here to quibble, to wonder at Cooper’s lack of interest in babies. She was there to pick apples. She frowned. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I was thinking of bringing out her playpen.”

 

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