Tell Me About Orchard Hollow

by Lin Stepp

  Jenna carried on about this upcoming event until Boyce could have screamed. All he could think about when she chatted away about being an auntie was how much he’d like her to be carrying his child. The pictures in his mind simply tormented him, and he despised himself for his thoughts. He wanted to grab her up and carry her off and away from everyone - and hated himself because he knew he couldn’t.

  “She changed while she was away, too.” Boyce paced the room, talking to himself. “In all honesty, I’m proud of the changes in her. She walks and talks with more confidence now. She’s more at ease with herself and with others. That timid girl always trying so hard to please, trying so hard to be what she thought everyone wanted her to be, is gone.”

  Gone, too, were the quick tears and the downcast eyes. “She’s even more comfortable with her talent.” He smiled at that memory. “She actually talked to people about her art, not belittling it any more.”

  Despite his grief, Boyce had to admit he liked this new stronger version of Jenna. But, at the same time, he missed the more timid and unsure Jenna, too. She had needed him more. This new Jenna seemed able to take him or leave him. It was what he had always feared.

  He prowled the room restlessly. What was he going to do with himself now that she was gone?

  “Maybe Dean was right,” he told himself. “Maybe I should just go up there to New York and get her, make her come back here with me.” He heaved a deep sigh, trying to think about his options. Wondering if he really had any at all.

  When Jenna first came last Friday, the two of them had a brief time to sit out on the front porch to talk. Granted a houseful of people milled around in the cabin behind them and kept coming in and out to interrupt, but they did enjoy a short space of private time. She told him how much she appreciated him coming up to New York for the awards ceremony. He tried to diminish that by saying he needed to come up to New York anyway to see a dealer at one of the galleries. Then he mentally berated himself for not just telling her he had come solely to see her.

  “You looked incredibly beautiful that night,” he said. “I was so proud when you walked up on that stage smiling. You looked out over the audience and spoke to them with such poise, just like getting up in that way was an every day thing for you. I really felt like giving a war whoop.”

  She laughed. “I think I was too pleased and surprised to be nervous. And then I looked back and saw you - and my father beside you. I thought my knees would fall out from under me. Didn’t you think how it might affect me to just look back there and see the two of you? To have no warning that you would be there? That both of you would be there?”

  He leaned toward her. “I wanted to surprise you. Seeing your father was something I hadn’t planned. The idea just came to me when I got to New York. I wanted to have a few words with the man. And then our conversation led to a little more.”

  Her dark eyes found his. “Yes, I heard about that.” She gave him a chastising look. “I’m not sure it was really your place to lecture my father in that way.”

  Boyce leaned back in his rocking chair. “Somebody needed to, Jenna. I won’t apologize that it was me. He needed to hear what he heard.”

  She glanced sideways at him. “Actually, he said the same thing, which surprised me,” she admitted. “But don’t start getting overly smug over that fact.”

  He grinned at her. It seemed like old times with her just then - until Raynelle came out on the porch and wanted to know where to find the can opener in the kitchen. And, of course, Jenna got up to go help her find it.

  She smiled at him as she let herself in the front door. “You know I’ll never forget you doing that for me, Boyce.” And then she was gone.

  Their times panned out like that all week – in just bits and spurts. He couldn’t get enough sense of how Jenna felt to know if it was safe to move in closer. And her cheerfulness confused him.

  They all went to Gatlinburg and played tourist. Jenna had never been before, and Sam wanted Henry to see the colorful town at the base of the mountains. The four of them poked in and out of the shops, laughing over the novelties and the endless array of gift items for sale. Boyce had wanted to take Jenna to Gatlinburg on his own someday but now he had to share the time with Sam and Henry. It had been like that the entire week. Everything they did had been as a foursome.

  Before the week was out, Boyce’s friends and family began giving him looks of sympathy. They saw Jenna acting bright, gay, and happy, while they all knew he had been grumpy and moody for months. He knew they hoped to see he and Jenna deepening their relationship – not running around like casual friends. The week reminded Boyce of high school when your friends felt sorry for you when your steady broke up with you. Everyone was just a little too nice to him. It ticked him off. He hated for people to feel sorry for him.

  Of course, not everyone acted tactful and discreet about what they thought. When he stopped by the store Thursday to get the mail, Charlotte was working in the gallery. As soon as the last customer left, she cornered him.

  “Well, Boyce Hart.” She put her hands on her hips with annoyance. “Are you just going to let Jenna come and go and never make a move to change things between you? She’s been so blithe and happy down here; it’s been downright confusing to me to watch it. I think she’s just settled her mind to you going your way and she going hers and has decided to make the best of it.”

  She glared at him. “You know, she’s not the kind of woman that’s going to come and beg you to take her. A woman doesn’t much respect a man that won’t say what’s on his mind. I thought you had a little more gumption, Boyce. You know we all want Jenna to stay.”

  “Look, Charlotte,” he countered sullenly. “I haven’t had a moment with Jenna since she’s been down here. All her time has been taken up with Sam and Henry and with all the people coming in and out of the house all the time.”

  “Pooh.” Charlotte smarted her reply back. “Those are just excuses. I’ve watched you around her. You’ve been holding back. You haven’t acted around her like a man in love. You’ve acted like a nice, good friend. If you’re not careful, that’s exactly what you’re going to end up being.”

  She gave him an irritated look. “ I’ve personally managed to have some nice long talks with Jenna. And I haven’t had any trouble getting her alone, so I don’t know what your problem is. But I can tell you that she is beginning to get her confidence. That Jason Brantley has been making moves on her, too, just like I told you he would. And he won’t be the only one for very long. You’re about to make yourself a big, foolish mistake by fiddling about here.”

  Even Boyce’s mother had words with him. She had them all over to the house for lunch one day, and took Boyce quietly aside before everyone left.

  “Son, what’s going on here?” she asked. “I thought you and this girl were developing feelings for each other. The last time you had her here - still a married woman then - the two of you could hardly keep your eyes off each other. Now, you’re acting awkward and moody, not at all like yourself. And she’s acting like she has just dipped into the elixir of life. I’ve never seen a girl so merry and happy. I don’t understand it. Is she just happy to have her divorce behind her?”

  “Maybe,” Boyce grumbled in response. “I don’t know. I can’t figure it out either.”

  His mother studied him. “Have you talked to her about it?”

  He kicked at a rock in the driveway. “No, but I guess I’m going to have to.”

  Yet, somehow another day slipped away in a flurry of activity and suddenly Friday night arrived – and Boyce found himself at a goodbye party.

  A big crowd spilled out of Sam’s cabin and into the front yard tonight and music and laughter filled the air. Boyce’s brother-in-law, Reece Wakefield, and his band entertained everyone out on the front porch - picking and singing all of Sam’s favorite songs - and a crowd of folks sat in lawn chairs all over the front yard enjoying the warm summer evening and the good music. Food sat piled on tables inside th
e cabin, left over from a potluck earlier. All the neighbors from Orchard Hollow had been invited, as well as what looked like about half of Townsend and Wear’s Valley’s population.

  Boyce felt ashamed that he couldn’t enjoy the pleasure of such a fine evening. These were the best of times in the mountains, one of the reasons he loved to live here. But his discontent overshadowed everything else tonight. Jenna would be leaving tomorrow, and he’d had no time with her at all.

  They had corresponded for months. She had poured out her heart in her letters, told him everything in her life. He expected a greater degree of intimacy when she got here. Granted, he hadn’t expected her to come down here and throw herself in his arms and declare her undying love. Though that would certainly have been nice. But he had expected more. He expected her to watch him as he did her, to let him know by her ways that she was thinking of him, that she was aware of him. Instead, her attention stayed focused on Sam. It was Sam she watched, Sam she tried so hard to please, Sam she worried over. Boyce loved the man almost as much as a father himself, but over the last week he almost resented him.

  Sam even seemed to be somewhat aware of his feelings. He actually winked at Boyce one day when he found him scowling at him.

  Plus, Sam and Jenna passed frequent conspiratorial looks, like they shared some private secret together. Perhaps no one else noticed that. But Boyce did. It made him feel like an outsider. And it annoyed the heck out of him, too.

  He leaned against a tree trunk as darkness fell, listening to the music and enjoying the evening as much as he could. Jenna flitted in and out of the house for a while, bringing different people drinks, taking some of the children in for the bathroom. Now, she leaned over Sam’s chair talking to him softly. Sam reached up and patted her face sweetly. Boyce felt another of those stabs of jealousy. He shook his head at himself. It was a wretched shame when a man found himself jealous of an old man in a wheelchair where his girl was concerned.

  Jenna started to mill around in the crowd then, talking to people. She seemed to be enjoying herself. It irked Boyce just to watch her. Why wasn’t she as broken up as he was? Wasn’t she thinking at all that she would be leaving here tomorrow? Didn’t she care?

  Jenna had worked her way over to where Boyce stood now. After speaking to the Lansky’s, she turned to listen to the band as they played an old mountain tune called Down in the Valley. He slipped over and took her hand.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened. “But I’m the hostess. I need to be here.”

  “You won’t be missed that much for a few minutes,” he told her insistently. He practically dragged her around toward the back path that led away from the cabin and down toward the creek.

  Even in the night air a thread of her honeysuckle scent drifted over to him, swamping his senses. He tucked his arm into hers. “I’ve hardly seen anything of you this week, Jenna.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She gave his arm a friendly squeeze. “You’ve seen me every day I’ve been here.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he answered huskily.

  They’d left behind the lights and voices of the party now, and they could hear the faint sounds of the music to their backs and the sounds of the creek ahead. Boyce stopped to turn Jenna toward him and let his hands drift down her arms and around her back.

  He pulled her into him, and with a deep sigh she leaned softly up against his chest. The feel of her was wonderful. And when they began to kiss, Boyce’s blood began to pound in his veins.

  She acted bolder now, which surprised him and excited him. She nibbled at his lips and slipped her hands up under the back of his shirt. His own hands wandered over her and soon their breath quickened, their heartbeat accelerated, and their knees weakened from the needs surging through them.

  “I’ve missed you, Jenna,” he whispered against her mouth. “Say you missed me, too. This whole week has been an agony seeing you, being around you, but not being able to be alone with you.”

  She pulled away a little to look up at him in the moonlight. “I sort of got the impression you were holding yourself at arm’s length. Weren’t you, Boyce?”

  The dark brought out his honesty. “I had thought to keep it light while you were here. I thought it might be easier on us both when you had to leave again.”

  “You thought that, did you?” There was a touch of humor behind her voice.

  He felt annoyed. “All right, I thought that for me.” His voice sounded more gruff than he intended. “I had a hard enough time the last time you left, Jenna. I was trying to make it easier on myself.”

  “And has it been easier?” She gave him a soft look. “Has it made it easier for you by keeping your distance?”

  “No, it’s been a misery,” he muttered, gathering her back in his arms. “It’s been torture all week seeing you, wanting you. And it will be an even worse agony when you leave tomorrow, Jenna.”

  “Is there something you need to tell me, Boyce?” She nuzzled her lips up against his neck. His skin and senses came alive with pleasure.

  “You know how I feel,” he answered her huskily, taking her lips with his again to show her.

  “No, I don’t.” She pulled away again to look up at him. “I’m not sure I do know how you feel, Boyce. I’ve been hoping all week you would tell me.”

  “You want me to say it, don’t you?” His voice sounded cross, even to him. “You want me to tell you that I love you. Surely you know that by now, Jenna.”

  “No.” She looked sad. “How can I know what you’ve never put into words?”

  He took her hands in his, feeling regretful now. “I’ve loved you almost since I first met you, Jenna. How could you not know that? Haven’t I shown you in a million ways?”

  “Ways are not as good as words sometimes, Boyce.” She smiled at him. “Words are magic, like paint to paper. They supply the color and the wonder. I like the words.”

  He looked down into her gypsy-brown eyes and was lost. “Well, then Ms. Martin, let me say the words again. I love you deeply and sincerely with all my heart. You fill my mind and senses when you are with me and when you are away. I have few moments when you are not in my thoughts. You haunt my steps. I imagine you when you are not with me. When you are with me, you are like a drug. I find I only want more and more of you.”

  He swept her back into his arms then, to show her in other ways how he felt.

  “And can you say the same, Jenna?” he asked, putting his heart all the way out on the limb now.

  She looked thoughtful. “I have fought loving you,” she told him candidly. “At first because I had no right to and later because I was afraid. Then I hesitated again because I wanted to become stronger. I wanted to be more worthy of being loved.”

  He kissed her nose.

  “You’re a ninny,” he told her. “You were always worthy of being loved.”

  She dropped her eyes from his. “Maybe, but I didn’t feel so. I was like a little ship all battered and bruised from a cruel storm.”

  He smiled at the picture she painted with her words. “And so are you fixed now?”

  “Yes, I think I am.” She smiled up at him sweetly.

  His hands came up to cup her face. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he prompted her, rubbing his fingers softly over her lips.

  He heard her breathing quicken and her answer came out in a whisper. “It’s hard to think rationally when you do that.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to think rationally.” Boyce threaded his fingers through her hair, catching the scent of her shampoo on the night air. “I want you to think with your heart.”

  “Heart to heart?” She sent a soft smile his way.

  He caught her eyes with his. “I’d like it to be Boyce Hart to Jenna Hart.” There, he’d said it.

  She touched his face with wonder. “I do love you, Boyce Hart. Surely you know I do. I knew it for certain and sure at the awards dinner when I looked out over the audience and
saw you there. I hadn’t had a chance to prepare my defenses, you see. And my heart just cried out over all my logic. That’s when I knew.”

  “So, what’s next?” He stroked her back.

  “Sam has to go back to New York,” she told him.

  His voice tightened. “And what about you?”

  She turned her brown eyes to his. “What do you want me to do, Boyce? I haven’t been sure.”

  Her question annoyed him. “I want you to stay. I’ll pay for plane fare for Sam and Henry to fly back. Heck, I’ll pay for someone to drive them back. But I want you to stay, Jenna.”

  She stroked her hand down his face. “You mean you want the ‘happily ever after’?” she asked him teasingly.

  He wrapped her up in his arms again. “Yes, the happily ever after and the happily right now.”

  She pulled away, frowning slightly. “I’ll have to see to Sam first, Boyce. I have to see Sam back to New York. When that’s all done, I’ll talk to you about the happily ever after. Tomorrow is an important day for Sam. He’ll have a lot of goodbyes to say. He may not be able to come back for a long time. If ever. I need to be with him.”

  Anger sliced through Sam and that green edge of jealousy again.

  “Fine,” he said with an edge. “You just take Sam back to New York. You be with him tomorrow and on the trip back. You finish out things the way you and Sam planned so it will be special. And you give me a call back in New York when you think you can spare the time.”

  Her eyebrows jerked up in surprise, but Boyce paid no attention to it. He’d been put neatly in his place. He turned and started to stride back up the path toward the cabin.

  “Boyce?” she called. “I think you’ve misunderstood …”

  “I think your hostess duties are calling you, Jenna,” he remarked coldly, interrupting her.

  She didn’t answer, and he didn’t look back.

  Resentment slashing through him, Boyce stalked through the side of the woods and cut across the road below the festivities at Sam’s to his own place. When he got there, he whistled for Patrick and then slipped out his back door. He started up a familiar mountain trail behind his cabin, needing to walk off some of his frustrations. It didn’t matter that it was dark. He and Patrick knew the way. And he just needed to be alone.