The Harvest

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  Her hand flew to her mouth, her face white. “It’s—”

  “Tess, I’m sorry. I thought you heard me.”

  “Oh, no. It’s…” Her quivering voice dwindled.

  Ryan’s heart melted. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she buried her cheek against his jacket. He tilted his head downward, looking into her frightened, frustrated face. “What’s wrong?”

  “A squirrel. It’s in the cabin.”

  “A squirrel? Inside?” He nearly laughed, seeing the fear in her eyes. “Let’s see what I can do.” He squeezed her shoulder and bounded through the doorway.

  But as he stepped inside, the creature darted between his legs, out the doorway and skittered up a tree, leaving him off balance and surprised.

  Ryan pivoted toward Tess and chuckled. “He was inside.”

  She covered her face and peeked at him with one amused eye. “I feel so foolish. You must think I’m a pest.”

  “The squirrel’s a pest, and he’s left the building. You—you’re just—”

  “Don’t tell me.” She gave him a relieved grin. “I’ll imagine something wonderful.”

  “You don’t have to imagine.” Ryan stepped from the doorway to her side. “Listen, Ms. Wonderful, here’s a deal. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Look at me.” She spread her arms shoulder high. “Do I look like I’ve eaten? I woke to this commotion. I haven’t had a thing, including a shower.”

  “Okay, here’s the plan. Coffee’s perking as we speak.”

  “Hmm. Coffee.” She lifted her shoulders. “And I haven’t grocery shopped yet.”

  “Get ready and come down to my place. Breakfast’s in thirty minutes.”

  “I didn’t expect this trip to prove so interesting,” she called over her shoulder as she turned back into the cabin.

  Ryan gave her a wave and strode down the path to the beach, his stomach empty but his mind full.

  The waves lapped to the shore, and two pieces of driftwood floated onto the beach, caught together by the rolling force. A feeling of destiny wove through his conscience, as if he and Tess, like the driftwood, had been pushed together for some reason that Ryan had yet to understand.

  He hoped his instincts were better than in the past.

  His relationship with Donna should never have been. They were too different. She longed for fun and material things while he strove for home and simplicity. He loved the quiet life. And he’d come to learn that Donna loved the social whirl.

  As much as he wanted to tell her they should rethink their future, his pride and the thought of hurting Donna wouldn’t let him. He’d prayed for God to give him the courage and the way to break things off easily. His prayer had been answered. Donna did it for him. Not gently, but with anger that he’d lost his spark for fun. And he had. He couldn’t deny it.

  After the breakup, Ryan spent weeks thinking about what he wanted in life. The answer was easy. He wanted laughter, cozy conversations, support, empathy and love—the kind of love defined in the Bible.

  Last night he’d experienced laughter and cozy conversation with a woman who he suspected loved children as much as he did. Had the Lord guided him here to meet this sweet, vulnerable woman, one who needed rescuing?

  He stopped a moment, hit by a new awareness. He’d made a shambles of romance so far. Maybe he was the one being rescued.

  Thinking of having breakfast across the table from Tess, his stride widened and, reaching the cozy cabin, he darted inside. After tossing his jacket on a chair, Ryan marched into the galley kitchen on one side of the room and opened a cabinet.

  He hadn’t brought up much—eggs, cheese and bread—but Jill always had coffee and powdered cream on hand. On one shelf, a lone onion sat inside a net bag. Whispering a thanks to his sister, Ryan poured a mug of freshly brewed coffee, then went to work on the cheese-onion omelet.

  Tess knocked, and when Ryan opened the door, the delicious aroma reached Tess’s senses and her stomach rumbled silently. He stood in the doorway, clutching a spatula. “Hi.”

  “Come on in,” he said.

  She noticed his admiring look, one he hadn’t given her earlier in her sweatpants. Stepping inside, she turned a full circle, taking in the cheery decor. “Pretty. I’ve never been inside.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell Jill.”

  She followed him, amazed at the compact area and how comfortable Ryan looked in it. He flashed a grin as cheery as the daffodil place mats.

  Tess leaned against the counter and spotted a telephone hanging on the wall. “Pretty fancy. A telephone up here?”

  He glanced at the apparatus. “It rarely rings, but Jill worries. Afraid something will happen. You never know when you need 911. Or a pizza.” He gave her a wink.

  A feathery tickle rippled through her chest. “Hmm. I never thought about pizza. Do you like them?”

  “Who doesn’t?” He flashed another grin and gestured toward a stool. “Have a seat.”

  Tess took her eyes from him long enough to slide onto the chair. Ryan set a cup of fragrant coffee in front of her, pushing the sugar bowl and creamer her way.

  She added a dash of cream and took a sip as she watched him put the finishing touches on breakfast. She wondered about him, his house, his interests, his beliefs—and more about his engagement. “Where do you live downstate?” Tess asked.

  Standing at the stove, he spoke over his shoulder. “Rochester. Off Avon Road near Adams.”

  “You’re kidding? I live off Adams, but in Birmingham. Coincidence, huh?” Or Providence? A prickle of gooseflesh coursed up her arms.

  “Not too far,” he said, handing her a plate.

  Tess eyed the fluffy omelet lying in the center of a white plate bordered with yellow daisies. A stack of toast slathered with butter sat nearby. “I’m impressed.”

  “Good,” Ryan said, joining her on the next stool.

  The omelet filled her stomach and the company filled her spirit. Then with a fresh cup of coffee, Ryan led her to the sofa where she sat facing the wide expanse of a door-wall with a view of the lake where golden streaks of sunlight rippled on the steely blue water.

  Tess rested her neck against the sofa back. “Thanks. That was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Ryan wandered to the sliding glass doors, seeming more thoughtful than the night before. “Looks like a nice day.” He turned to face her. “Would you like to walk?”

  “Sorry. I have to make a trip into town.”

  “I could go with you, and—”

  “Thanks, but I have to stand on my own two feet once in a while.”

  “But they’re such tiny things,” he said, eyeing her sneakers.

  She saw what looked like disappointment on his face. “You’ve bailed me out of my propane problems and my critter attack. I need to prove I can make it into town…by myself. We can walk later. How’s that?”

  He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “Okay.”

  She grinned, then rose from the sofa and grasped her cup. “I’ll help you with these dishes.”

  “No need. What’s a couple of plates and cups?”

  Echoing her words from the evening before, his toying smirk made her smile. “No argument there.”

  She set the cup on the counter. “Since you won’t let me help clean up, I’ll be on my way.” She headed for the door, stopping long enough to pick up her jacket. “I’ll see you later.”

  Not waiting for a response, she pulled open the door and stepped outside. Wrapping her jacket around her shoulders, she walked down the path toward the water. The wind fluttered in uneven gusts, flapping her windbreaker and sending the colorful leaves pirouetting along the ground like ballerinas.

  Though the air was warm, the strong breeze pushed her along the beach, and when Tess stepped inside the cabin, she brushed her windblown hair from her eyes. She wanted to walk with Ryan. Wanted to more than she cared to admit, but she needed time to think about what she felt and what seemed to be happening
.

  She slid into a chair at the small table and grasped a stubby pencil and a scratch pad, listing what she needed in town—a few groceries, the newspaper. She could check out what movie was playing in Cheboygan, and she liked to do crosswords on lonely evenings.

  Lonely evenings. She’d had enough of those to last a lifetime. Ryan’s image sent her heart on a fluttered journey. Could she really trust a handsome man like him? Alone in the woods, he had no other women ogling him, but back home, she wondered.

  Speculations marched into her thoughts. Had Ryan cheated on his fiancée to cause the breakup? Her chest tightened at the question. Maybe the woman had cheated on him. She shook her head. Not everyone cheated on someone…and not Ryan, she felt sure. Anyway, she hoped.

  She pushed her worries aside and tended to the list. Soda, milk, eggs—she might pay back Ryan for the tasty breakfast—pancake mix, sausage. She rose and reached under the sink for a bag of returnable soda cans. Setting them on the counter, she slipped on her jacket, grabbed her shoulder bag and locked the cabin.

  Outside, she got into her car and turned the key in the ignition. The motor purred to life and she shifted into reverse, but before Tess moved, she stopped, remembering she’d forgotten the sack of used cans.

  Tess slid from the seat, slammed the door and darted back to the cabin, then halted. She needed keys to get into the cabin. Where was her mind? Addled by her distraction, she retraced her steps and tugged the door handle.

  Locked.

  Her heart sank. She looked through the window at her keys dangling from the ignition switch. Her car door locked, its motor running. Her cabin door also locked.

  She pursed her lips, controlling her frustration. So this was standing on her own two feet. Two tiny feet. She faced her only option.

  Ryan.

  Chapter Four

  Pushing her fists into her sides, Tess spun around and looked toward the beach. Again she felt useless and incapable. Where had her skills gone? Her ability to keep track of things? To organize? Only Ryan’s reaction made her smile. She could imagine his laugh when she asked for his help again.

  When she reached the water, Ryan came into view. He lifted his hand in a wave.

  “Ryan,” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth like a megaphone.

  For a moment, she thought the waves had covered her voice. Finally, he hurried toward her. A teasing grin spread across his face and he poked himself in the chest. “Did you call me?”

  Tess gazed into the sparkling green eyes and heard his chuckle rise on the wind.

  “My keys,” she said, pointing up the hill. She turned and led the way to her car.

  “Tess, you have a gift,” he said beside her.

  She eyed him over her shoulder. “A gift?”

  “A gift for getting into trouble.”

  She cringed, unable to find a snappy comeback. But the good humor in his eyes soothed her, and she slowed and fell into step at his side.

  The car motor idled softly as they approached. Ryan peered inside. The scent of leather drifted from his lightweight calfskin jacket. A soft guttural “hmm” left his throat. “No problem,” he said.

  She thought of her extra set of keys at home. “No problem for you. Big one for me.”

  “Not anymore.”

  She gazed at his silhouette backed by the bright sun and shielded her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  He held up an index finger. “Wait a minute.” With a fast jog, he darted down the path and vanished around the line of trees.

  Tess waited and soon he returned, carrying a long metal wire, and slid the gadget down along the window to the inner mechanism.

  She watched while he manipulated the contraption, pulling and tugging. “Do those things really work?”

  He peered at her over his shoulder. “Always.” Withdrawing the gadget, he gave her a feeble smile and went at it again.

  His feet shifted from side to side, and from behind, Tess watched his antics, admiring his wiggle, moving this way and that.

  But his confidence seemed to fade while the door remained locked.

  About the time she’d given up on his efforts, the lock clicked.

  He turned to her. “Nothing to it.”

  “I can see that,” she said, freeing the laughter she’d contained.

  He stepped aside as she slid into the seat.

  She peered into his face. “Thanks. I’m—”

  “Don’t say a word,” he said. “Glad I could help. You only delayed my quiet, peaceful walk for a couple of minutes.” He shut her door and, with a quick wave, turned and headed down the path.

  Waiting before pulling away, she watched him stride toward the water and chuckled at the memory of his wiggling two-step. As he disappeared around the bend of trees, a sense of loneliness pervaded her. She pushed the feeling aside and shifted into reverse.

  The soda cans.

  Tess laughed to herself, turned off the motor, pulled the keys from the ignition and headed for the returnables.

  She had a gift, he’d said. Well, he had one, too. The gift to solve her problems, and even more, the gift to make her feel like a woman again.

  She lifted her eyes to the blue sky and spoke. “Are you up there, God? Is this your doing or am I being duped again?”

  No answer came back, except a feeling in her heart that Ryan was one of God’s gifts.

  Tess put the last dish away and turned toward Ryan, amazed how close they’d gotten in four days.

  “Thanks for wiping.”

  “Thanks for dinner,” he said, his hip resting against the kitchen counter.

  “Least I could do…for all your help these past couple of days.” Truly, he was helping her again. Helping her feel less lonely and less useless.

  “It was nothing. I’m getting used to digging you out of trouble.” He sent her a broad smile.

  “I hope it’s the last time I need you….” Though it was meant to be funny, the words faded away. She liked being with him. Just didn’t like needing him.

  “Don’t worry. It’s my turn now,” he said, closing the distance between them.

  Tess looked into his devilish eyes, her heart in her throat, wondering if he were going to kiss her.

  “You owe me a walk. You’re good at distracting me from my walks—last Friday and then Saturday when you locked your keys in the car. Remember?”

  She teetered backward, disappointed. “A walk? But it’ll be dark soon.”

  He grinned and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I was walking late on Friday when I scared you to death. I like to walk in the moonlight.”

  Moonlight. She averted his eyes. For some foolish reason, she’d anticipated a kiss, and she prayed he didn’t see the flush of mortification on her cheeks. “I— Why not? Sure. I’ll get my jacket. If we hurry, we’ll be back before dark.” She brushed past him and grabbed a sweater.

  Ryan followed behind her, seemingly unaware of her disappointment. After slipping on his jacket, he opened the door and motioned to her.

  They walked side by side down the path. The wind whipped her hair, and Ryan laughed at her hopeless struggle.

  When they reached the water, they paused. Whitecaps rolled to shore, and Tess’s gaze followed the horizon where a large steamer headed for Lake Michigan. For the third time, the thought of selling the cabin pinched her heart. She would miss the place if she did.

  A tear rolled down her cheek from the nippy wind—or was it sadness? She had spent so many happy and restful summers on this beach.

  “Let’s head toward the creek,” Ryan said, linking his arm to hers.

  Tess loved the feeling of togetherness. So often her heart floated on waves of abandonment, sinking and rising, then sinking again. But today she strolled beside Ryan, talking about the shuttered cottages and other unimportant things.

  Ryan squeezed her arm and drew her closer. “This is none of my business…but I’m curious. Tell me about Al. What happened?”

  Her legs weake
ned and her ankle turned in the sand. Ryan’s strong grasp steadied her.

  “Watch those sand drifts,” he said, not realizing his question had caused her to stumble.

  Ryan had been so kind the past four days, she felt she owed him some kind of explanation, but what? She couldn’t tell him the whole story. “He had worked late again…and I suppose he was tired. It was winter, and a car spun out. He swerved to avoid it…and that was it.”

  “I’m sorry, Tess.” He released her arm and slid it around her back, drawing her closer. “What about the other passenger?”

  She faltered as her body went rigid. “The other passenger?” Somehow he knew she’d avoided the truth.

  “I meant the other driver.” His eyes filled with question.

  She contained her anxiety. “Not a scratch.” Why had she presumed he knew the truth?

  “Well, thank the Good Lord for that,” Ryan said, taking a step and picking up their pace.

  Tess turned her face toward the water. Would life ever be the same? Though her trust had been shattered with her husband’s death, Tess liked being married—sharing, dreaming and loving. Maybe it was all a fairy tale. But when she turned her head again, a pair of spring green eyes looked at her with tenderness, making her wonder if fairy tales could come true.

  When they reached the creek that emptied into Lake Huron, the sun lay on the horizon, spreading vivid coral and muted lavender across the water like spilled paint. The Mackinac Bridge lights came on, tiny specks outlining the powerful cables.

  “Time to go back,” Ryan said, swinging them around to start the return walk.

  “I don’t mean to be so quiet,” Tess said.

  “I think I upset you with my question. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s much more than that,” Tess said, wanting so badly to trust him. “Anyway, it’s your turn to tell me about your fiancée.”

  “Ex-fiancée.”

  “Okay. Ex.”

  Her step lightened, and she swung to collect a piece of driftwood. Ryan crouched down to gather a handful of flat stones. With each step, he skipped them across the water until the concentric ripples disappeared into a darkening sky.

  “Look what I found,” he said, slipping one of the pebbles into Tess’s hand.