They both laughed a little. Jamie glanced back at them and Emma nodded, indicating her daughter should take her walk down the aisle.
Emma looked toward the front of the church. Lily and Oregon were on the left, smiling, holding their bouquets. Boone and Lucy stood on the opposite side. And next to them, Daron. He wore a Western-cut tuxedo. His hair had been trimmed. Her heart filled to overflowing because he caught her eye and then he smiled at Jamie, encouraging her. She sprinkled flowers as Art and Emma started down the aisle.
As they got to the front of the church, Jamie turned and with that mischievous grin she picked up the basket and tossed flowers in the air. Wildflower petals fluttered around Emma as Art released her and she stepped to Daron’s side.
Remington smiled at them, at the wedding party, and then he began. “You may be seated. Who gives this bride in marriage?”
Her granddad stood nearby, chest puffed out in pride. “Me and the Good Lord.”
The guests laughed a little. Granddad winked and took his seat.
Emma wanted to remember every word, every moment of the ceremony. But later what she remembered most was her hand in Daron’s and Jamie at her side. And it felt right. It felt like they were a family.
She looked up at the man who would be her husband and he gave her a slow wink and that steady, easy smile of his. He placed the ring on her finger and she placed one on his. And then he kissed her with Jamie standing between them, hugging both their legs.
With the crowd cheering, he lifted Jamie and took Emma by the hand, and they walked back down the aisle with wildflower petals floating through the air and a song being played. She thought it might have been “Can I Have This Dance?”
She only remembered that it felt so right to stand next to Daron and know that now and forever he would be hers and she would be his. And maybe in a year or two Jamie would have a little brother or sister.
Yes, her heart was full to overflowing. And God had indeed blessed her with this second chance.
* * * * *
If you loved this story,
pick up these other MARTIN’S CROSSING books,
HER RANCHER BODYGUARD
THE RANCHER’S FIRST LOVE
THE RANCHER’S SECOND CHANCE
THE RANCHER TAKES A BRIDE
A RANCHER FOR CHRISTMAS
from bestselling author
Brenda Minton
Available now from Love Inspired!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Keep reading for an excerpt from APPLE ORCHARD BRIDE by Jessica Keller.
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Dear Reader,
I’m so thrilled that you’ve joined me for another visit to Martin’s Crossing! Her Guardian Rancher brings familiar faces and new characters. Daron McKay has been a favorite character of mine and it seems fitting that the Martin’s Crossing series should end with his story. Emma Shaw is an amazing heroine, and in her, Daron will find a lasting love. Together with her daughter, Jamie, the three create an amazing family and a story I hope you will love!
Blessings!
Brenda
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Apple Orchard Bride
by Jessica Keller
Chapter One
“This can’t be happening.” Jenna Crest jogged toward the line of dwarf trees she’d planted at her family orchard when she’d first moved back in with her father.
Young branches were stripped bare, and chunks of bark had been peeled off at least eleven of her sixteen new Braeburn trees. With damp dirt between her fingers, Jenna scrambled from tree to tree, desperately trying to determine if any of them could be saved. Even though she knew the answer right away, she still examined each one closer. All were ruined.
Much like her.
She stood, rested her hands on her hips and kicked at the ground. “All that work. For what? Nothing.”
These new trees had cost her countless hours of care, attention and even love. She’d researched and chosen the breed of trees, despite her father suggesting they plant Pristine trees along the edge of their property. She’d tested the soil’s pH and had dug sulfur into the row until it reached the correct level.
Whole days during the hottest portion of the past summer had been devoted to training the branches to grow correctly—tying them together to help the tree maintain the best shape for bearing the most fruit in years to come. She’d pruned and encouraged the branches and made special trips out at dusk just to recheck them before nightfall—even though going out at night caused panic to tickle up her spine. Jenna had battled the codling moths to keep her baby trees safe and had worried for weeks as she treated other plants in the orchard for apple scab, knowing that if the tiny trees caught the common disease, they’d be wiped out.
None of it mattered. Despite her best efforts, deer had come in the night and destroyed any chance the trees had of one day bearing fruit. She’d done everything right, yet still they were damaged beyond repair.
Story of her life.
Jenna swiped at the burning tears waiting to fall. Tears wouldn’t bring back the dying trees and couldn’t help her situation. They hardly ever did. She’d cried herself dry over the years, and the practice had never healed her. For that matter, neither had God. Wasn’t He supposed to care about His followers? If not her, then He should at least care about her father. Dad had been a God-fearing man his whole life. He’d raised her to know God and had loved his wife fiercely until the moment her soul slipped beyond life. Yet all of her father’s devotion to God had led to his being diagnosed with a debilitating condition. It didn’t make sense.
Honestly, not much did.
Fairness in this life was a fantasy.
Jenna sighed. Move. Stop thinking. It doesn’t do any good anyway.
She might not be able to untangle the ways of God, but she could determine the cause of the damaged trees. Stepping away from the row of Braeburns, she crossed over to the fence that enclosed the orchard. They referred to it as a deer fence because even though it looked simply like two thin lines of metal, they were charged. With the entire orchard being made up of dwarf trees that stood between only six and eight feet high, an electric fence was the only way to keep their harvest safe from being picked clean by pests. The deer must have found a weak spot.
Crouching toward the nearest patch of fence, Jenna angled her head, trying to listen for the telltale hum of electricity. Nothing. She reached to touch the line.
“You know better th
an to touch that.” A familiar, honey-smooth voice caused her muscles to jolt. Jenna lost her crouched position, her knees dropping into the longer grass.
Toby. It was Toby Holcomb’s voice.
That couldn’t be right though. Toby lived clear across the country, all the way in Florida. One of the best things about coming back to Goose Harbor this time around was knowing she’d never run into him again. Not after his parents moved out of town. He had zero reason to ever return to Michigan.
Still, her pulse picked up as a thousand shared childhood memories collided in her mind. The kid from across the street. The boy she’d built a tree house with. They used to run through the orchard at night, playing flashlight tag. A best friend who... But it couldn’t be him. He’d left town—left her—at eighteen and never looked back.
Jenna craned her neck and spotted him, less than fifteen feet away, closing the distance quickly. That was Toby, all right. Her heart pounded up into her throat. She swallowed hard and rubbed her palms against the thighs of her jeans. He couldn’t be here. She didn’t want him nearby.
That didn’t fit with her plan.
She squinted against the glare of the rising autumn sun. Even as a teenager, Toby had been handsome, an all-American boy with a heaping dose of superhero good looks thrown in for good measure. His hair was the same as before, a mix of brown and blond, the kind of color women paid a lot of money in salons to achieve. From the way his T-shirt pulled across his frame, the past ten years had given him tighter arm muscles and firmer shoulders. Despite the upper bulk on his frame, the rest of him—strong legs, athletic stride—was built for speed. A reminder that he’d played running back for a Division I school. He’d been a shoo-in to be drafted onto a professional football team until his career-ending injury during his final season in college. His eyes were a refreshing, crisp blue, like a cloudless fall day in the height of harvest time.
For the space of a heartbeat, as memories and lost hopes crashed around in her mind, words left her.
The first man to ever betray her. She should have learned her lesson. He should have been the first and last to hurt her. If only. She couldn’t change the past, but going forward, Toby wouldn’t get another opportunity to cause her pain. Never again.
Recovering from the shock of seeing him, she gulped in a fortifying breath and then leaned forward, toward the fence. “You, of all people, don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.” She tapped the wire with her pointer finger, and a shudder of power surged through her arm. That part of the fencing was very much alive.
Toby stopped less than three feet away from her. He smirked, crossed his arms and shook his head in a mocking way. “See? I’m guessing that hurt.”
The fuzzy feeling of electricity hummed around her elbow. “I’m fine.” She’d brushed the fence countless times in her life; the charge was far too weak to actually cause pain, and the feeling would be gone in a few minutes. She started to rise. Toby grabbed her arm to help her up, but she shrugged away from his touch. Dealing with him close-up hurt far more than any electrical zap could.
A part of her wanted to shove his chest and yell at him. You ruined my life! You were the catalyst that started it all! But telling him that would only give him power because it would reveal how much he’d once meant to her. She’d been in love with a fool. A fool who had never given her a second thought.
Jenna took a step back, creating more distance between them. “Why are you here?”
His lips tugged to an almost smile, but his lowered brows betrayed his confusion. “It’s good to see you, too.”
She copied his cross-armed stance. “Answer the question.”
He dropped his arms to his sides, tilting his palms up to reveal the smallest of shrugs. “It was time to come home.”
Home? As in...he was staying in Goose Harbor for good? No. Jenna didn’t want to—couldn’t—deal with running into him all the time. Not when he reminded her of past hopes, the time before the bad, and also why everything went wrong in her life to begin with. How could she heal when the man who inflicted the first puncture wound to her soul was nearby?
“Your parents don’t live here anymore.” So why are you here? The Holcombs had sold their home five years ago. Toby had no reason to be in Goose Harbor.
He nodded. “They love that retirement community. Florida suits them well.”
Jenna pressed her fists into her armpits. “But not you?”
Toby scrubbed his palm against his jawline. “Even after almost ten years in the Sunshine State, it’s not my place. Goose Harbor’s the only place that wins the home label.”
Her mouth went dry, but she forced out the words anyway. “Well, I can’t speak for the rest of town, but you’re certainly not welcome on our property.”
Toby cocked his head. “He didn’t tell you?”
Her gaze finally connected with his. Which was a mistake. A huge one. She’d avoided looking him in the eye until now, but she’d have a hard time looking away. “You know I hate when you ask leading questions. Spit it out.”
“Your dad hired me. I work here now.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse. “In fact, I’m living in the bunkhouse.”
“Since—” her voice faltered “—since when?”
“Moved in last night.” He studied her. Almost as if he was waiting for her to smile or be friendly. Then he sighed. “The lights were off at your place so I figured you guys were out.”
It felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs. An ache rocked through her chest. Do not have a panic attack. Not now. Not here. Not in front of him.
“No,” she whispered.
“Jenna.” Toby’s voice was soft and warm as he took a step closer. “Your dad needs help.”
“I’m here.” She narrowed her gaze and pressed her hand into her chest. “I help him.”
“And run this place, too?” He tossed out his hands, encompassing the whole orchard. “All by yourself? Why? I spent every summer during junior high and high school working for him, taking care of this place.”
“Yeah, and then you left on the back of a convertible, waving like a hero from the town parade, and never looked back.” She spun on her heels, determined to flee from the situation before an attack brought her to her knees. She needed to be alone and mentally review what had just happened. Figure out a plan for coping with seeing Toby again.
But Toby caught her arm. “You’re angry.” He said it like it was some huge revelation. As if he hadn’t been the one to pretend to be her friend when it was just the two of them but then made fun of her in public, causing the final two years of high school to be some of the most miserable of her life.
She shoved his hand off her arm and squared her shoulders. “I’d have to actually care to be angry, but when it comes to you and your life, hear this—I don’t care.”
* * *
Toby watched Jenna stalk through the grass away from him. A penny toad and a couple grasshoppers fled from her steps.
Oh. She was mad. She was so mad she couldn’t stand to look at him.
That was unexpected.
“Jen-na,” he groaned, dragging out the two syllables in her name, just like the old days.
She picked up her speed.
Despite the fact, or possibly because of the fact, that Jenna had been homeschooled for most of her childhood, she’d been Toby’s best friend. Toby’s entire childhood was a wash of his parents caring for his brother, trying to help Ben fight the leukemia that had eventually taken his life. It could have been lonely, but the Crest family—Jenna in particular—had made sure his days were full of laughter and friendship. She’d always been a beacon of hope in his life, just waiting across the street. Because she was homeschooled, he’d been able to make their friendship this safe and secret thing that was only for him. None of his friend
s at the public school knew about Jenna, and he’d liked it that way. She was his. Special. The one person he didn’t have to pretend with.
When her mother died during their junior year of high school, Jenna’s dad had to enroll her in the public high school. The school Toby attended. His school friends had consisted of other guys on the football team and the girls who trailed after that type. Jenna was always shy to the point of being silent in large groups and had worn outfits made out of pleated resale-shop jeans and flowery tops that were appropriate for grade school children. She’d had a braid that hung well past her lower back. A rumor had worked its way through school during her first week there that she was half-Amish. She had worn thick purple-rimmed glasses and had a mouth full of braces back then. His group would have ridiculed her every single day if they had known he and she were best friends.
They would have ridiculed him, too.
But he’d protected her by not letting his school friends know they were close. He’d saved her from so much grief and teasing that public knowledge of their friendship would have brought on her. At least, his actions had made sense back in high school. She knew that, right? Ten years had passed since graduation.
No one was stubborn enough to hang on to hurt for that long.
Then again, Jenna had once not spoken for two weeks when they were ten or eleven years old because he’d dared her that she wouldn’t be able to. Perhaps people could do anything they put their minds to, even if their minds were set on holding on to something toxic.
“Wait up!” He started after her at a jog. Leaves rustled, and a branch scraped against his arm as he cut through a row of trees in order to catch up.
She kept her eyes fixed on the barn and farmhouse in the distance. “Leave me alone, Toby.”
“I can’t. Not when I’m going to be living a stone’s throw from your house for the foreseeable future.” He tried to infuse his smile with a measure of warmth, hoping to thaw her mood. “That’s even closer than when we were across-the-street neighbors. Neither of us ever imagined that would happen one day, did we?”
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