She breathed a sigh of relief. The plans were perfect.
According to Thad Rundstrom’s intel, the Looms were the key to getting Sanna to agree to sell—and she was the lynchpin. If Eva could win her over, the dad would be a piece of cake. These new renderings left many of the older trees intact, building the property’s condos around them. She’d even decided to call them Loom Homes. The hotel proper and water park would be on the Rundstrom property, where they had no annoying qualms about razing their orchard.
Her phone buzzed. Patrick.
“Yes,” she said.
“I know what you did.”
Eva kicked off her heels and walked to the counter where she had placed the ice bucket. She pulled a bottle of Grey Goose from the icy minifridge she kept on its lowest setting and poured two inches into a clean tumbler, then added two cubes.
“Am I supposed to guess what you’re referring to, or are you going to tell me?”
This should be good. Her brother was always digging, so let’s hear what he found. She knocked back half the liquid in one gulp, searing down her throat. She’d stopped caring what Patrick thought three years ago when he’d gone behind her back on a deal they were both rushing to finalize and pointed out a silly error she had made in the contract to both the seller and her father, humiliating her. Rather than let her fix it, her father had yanked her from the project entirely. She had never been sloppy again. Let him waste his time reading her contracts—he wouldn’t find any mistakes.
“You changed the plans for the Door County deal without Dad’s permission.”
Shit. That wasn’t a mistake—it was something she was doing intentionally. She brushed her hands across the drawings. She was proud of this strategy. She’d listened to the concerns of the seller and altered the plan to persuade—not threaten, her dad’s and Patrick’s favorite business tactic.
“Dad instructed me to get the deal done, no matter what was necessary. I’m just following orders.”
She swirled her glass, the shrinking ice cubes clinking together. She’d been doing this job, and doing it well, for five years—when would they stop looking over her shoulder?
“You know he would never accept changes like this. I saw the new rendering. You’ll be lucky if he ever lets you head up another deal.”
“Did you call for a reason, or just to be a dick?”
“I wanted you to know, so when you screw this up—which you will—and I have to come fix it for you—which Dad will make me do—you’ll owe me for not telling Dad about your little idea.”
This is what she hated most. Instead of working together, they always fought to outwit each other. Why couldn’t they be brother and sister rather than corporate rivals?
“I owe you nothing. I remember when you forgot to get permits for new construction in Indiana. If I hadn’t caught it and fixed it by sweet-talking the right people, you still would be staring at an empty field. And I didn’t ask you for any favors for keeping my mouth shut—because I’m your sister and I had your back.”
She could hear ice cubes clinking over the phone. What did it say about their fractured family that they both needed booze to get through a phone call with each other? She finished off her glass.
“Since you don’t have a witty comeback, I’m going. I have a deal to close. Bye, Patrick.”
She tossed the phone onto the bed and returned to her drawings. When Patrick wasn’t a complete asshole, he could be a brilliant businessman. She wished she could ask him for advice on how to best approach the Lunds with these changes—her heart hurt that she couldn’t. It had been exciting to problem-solve with the designer. Sure, she’d hit a roadblock with Sanna’s affection for the Looms, but with a bit of creativity, she had found a possible solution. And even if it didn’t work, at least this would be her own failure, not her brother’s or her father’s.
She picked up the phone to call Anders with the new proposal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Bass searched the trees for wormy apples, ones that couldn’t be used in ciders, let alone be pretty enough for the apple stand. He liked that Sanna trusted him enough now to decide which ones had to go. She worked on the other side of the same apple tree, thinning the branches that he couldn’t reach. He knew she was double-checking his work, but he hadn’t missed one yet.
He picked an apple so rotten that parts of it were mushy and threw it to the ground where Sanna had told him to. He wiped his hand on his shirt and continued to search.
It was almost the end of August and he hadn’t spoken to his mom in more than two months. He had written her letters and given them to his dad to send. The last one was still in the notebook Sanna had given him.
Dear Mom,
I hope you’re feeling better. I miss you.
We’ve been spending a lot more time with the Lunds. Miss Lund, or Sanna, cause she lets me call her that now, is nice. I like her. I hope that’s okay. We ate Oreos in the morning and I taught her how to dunk the cookies after the cream is gone, just like you taught me. She thought that was awesome.
I think she and Dad might like each other. Is that weird? I would be okay with it if you are. Are you okay with it?
Write to me when you can.
I love you!
Bass
He really hoped his mom was okay with Dad and Sanna liking each other, because he was.
“Let’s move to the next tree,” Sanna said. “This one’s a Rambo. It’s one of the first trees my great-great-great-grandpa grafted when he moved to this country and bought this land.”
They were in the Looms, the best part of the orchard in his mind. The air gave him goose bumps, like it was whispering on his skin, but in a good way, not a creepy way. Like the sounds of grown-ups whispering when he fell asleep on a couch in a new place. It made him feel safe to hear people nearby. The Looms made him feel the same way, safe and like everything was okay.
“Sanna, what’s wrong with the trunk?” he asked, pointing to where the tree’s trunk looked funny, different from the other trees they’d been working on today.
Sanna bent to look at the trunk, then her entire body went stiff.
“No. No, no, no, no, no. No.” She knelt and pushed aside the long grass around the tree trunk and Bass leaned over her shoulder. Her hand traced a band as tall as one of her fingers that went all the way around the trunk, like someone had tied a wide, pale yellow ribbon around it, except instead of a ribbon, it was missing bark. She wrapped her arms around the gap, hugging the tree and leaning her head against it, whispering words he couldn’t understand.
“How did the bark come off?” Bass tried to keep his voice quiet because it seemed like that kind of moment.
She turned her head toward him but left her hand on the tree trunk, her eyes sparkling with tears.
“This is very serious. Someone scraped off the bark on purpose, and it can kill the entire tree. I need you to get my toolbox out of Elliot, then start checking trees. We need to check every tree in the orchard. If this happened last night, we don’t have much time before the trees that have been girdled can’t be saved. Can you do that? Can you do that fast?”
“I’ve got this.” He dashed to the truck and jumped over the side, just to prove he could be that fast. He knew right where the toolbox was because he had seen it that night they caught fireflies. He lifted it and had to readjust his grip. It was heavier than he thought, so he moved it to the end of the truck and opened up the tailgate to slide it out instead of lift it over the side. Using both hands, he carried it to Sanna, who had released the tree and was scanning its branches.
“Set it there.” She pointed near the trunk. “Start checking this row. Go down and come up the next. I’ve texted your dad and mine, and they’re on their way to help. This is really important. You can’t miss even one. If you find one that’s been girdled, one with bark missing in a ring around the middle, you need to tie a flag on it so we can find it again. Got it?” She handed him flags out of her toolbox, and he was off
.
He ran from tree to tree as fast as he could, then slowly checked each trunk, making sure he didn’t miss looking at even an inch of bark from the ground to the first line of branches. With each new ruined trunk he discovered, his heart felt heavier and heavier, pushing him to run faster to the next tree.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Fourteen trees had been girdled. All Looms. After the wasted Galas a few weeks ago, this was no coincidence. Someone was sabotaging Idun’s and it was personal.
Sanna stepped into the shower, letting the hot water soothe the tense muscles on her neck and the aches in her fingers from the hours of delicate work.
She’d spent last night and today doing her best to repair the damage. Elliot had kept her company, giving her enough light to see by and some music to keep her awake when her eyes had drooped. She had carefully cut bark from some thicker branches and used it to create a bridge over the exposed trunk, tucking it under the tree’s existing bark. Then she wrapped the area to keep in as much moisture as possible. If she could keep the trees alive long enough to merge with the new bark, they might survive. Isaac and Einars had wanted to help, but one was too inexperienced and the other too weak—besides, she needed to do this alone. This had happened on her watch. She needed to make it right.
What she really wanted was to girdle the one responsible, but laws still applied in Door County, even if the sheriff was a family friend.
After being awake for thirty-six hours—over half of them spent meticulously repairing the trees—she couldn’t wait to crawl into bed after dinner. When she turned off the shower, she heard a knock on the door.
“Sanna, Isaac and Bass are here for dinner. Don’t come out naked.”
She couldn’t even muster an eye roll. She pulled her comfy summer dress, which was almost better than pajamas, over her head and emerged. She gave them a wave and yawn in greeting as she walked into the kitchen to help with dinner.
“Don’t even think about it. Sit down at the table and we’ll bring your dinner to you.” Isaac had even shooed Einars out of the kitchen, where he’d been clumping around on his cast. In minutes a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast slid in front of her. He set an apple tart on the counter to cool for dessert.
During dinner, Sanna kept herself awake by counting Bass’s giggles. So far it was twenty-three, but she was so sleepy she had no clue what caused them. The kid was extra-wiggly tonight. He kept peeking at his dad, who’d give him a scowl, then he’d look into his lap and snicker. She scraped the last bite of apple tart off her plate and carried her dish to the kitchen, planning to put it in the dishwasher and head to bed.
To her surprise, Isaac took it from her and put both of their dishes in the machine.
“I know you’re exhausted, but I was hoping I could show you something. Out in the orchard. It won’t take long.” He held out his hand, tan and strong. Before logic stopped her, Sanna set her own hand in his. Unlike the calming sensation of their previous contact, this one rejuvenated her like rain and sunshine. Her wilted energy rallied with curiosity and something else that awakened lower in her stomach.
“I’ll get a sweater.”
She pulled on a thin blue cardigan, just enough to keep the late-August night chill off her skin. Slipping into her outdoor clogs, she followed Isaac down the steps.
“We’re going to the Looms, do you want to take the ATV or walk?”
Above them stars sparkled in the indigo expanse, still holding on to the sunset in the far west. Ripening apples scented the air with their fruity aroma, and crickets lazily sang to one another. A faint breeze whispered in her hair, more a reminder that she was outside than a discomfort. A few lingering fireflies blinked in the darkness. If ever there was a perfect night for walking the orchards, this was it. And, if she was being honest with herself, this was the perfect night to walk the orchards with Isaac.
“Walk, definitely walk.”
They headed into the trees.
“I have a flashlight if you want.” He held it out toward her, but she gently pushed it back to him.
“Not on a night like this. It would make it harder to see.”
“You aren’t a little creeped out by the dark?”
“Are you implying you are?”
“Not at all. I’m saying I’m a grown man and I like to know what’s out there.”
Sanna smiled.
“I know exactly what’s out there. Using a flashlight only helps if you have it pointed in the right direction. You’re better off letting your eyes adjust to the starlight and using your other senses. Not that there’s anything to worry about. The most dangerous critters out here are the raccoons looking to steal my apples—and they’re too fat to move fast.”
“Raccoons? Sounds dangerous.”
“Only if you trip over one. And they’ll waddle off to the next tree before we even know they’re there.”
They walked for a few minutes in silence, each enjoying the night sounds around them.
“I’m surprised you aren’t asking questions about what I’m doing,” Isaac said. “Aren’t you curious?”
“I like surprises. My dad’s horrible at them, so I like to savor them when I get a chance.”
“You’re one of those people who carefully unwraps presents, aren’t you? Rather than shred the paper like a Tasmanian devil.”
“There’s nothing wrong with restraint and patience. Anticipation is half the fun. It’s one reason I like making cider—the delayed gratification of months of growing, harvesting, and fermenting.”
Isaac looked at her in a way she couldn’t interpret in the dim light. She fiddled with her necklace.
“It can be. But it can also be torture.” Isaac pointed to her necklace. “You play with your necklace a lot. What’s the significance of it?”
“It’s a cross section of a branch from one of the trees that was girdled. I made it before I went to college so I always had a bit of the orchard with me. It reminds me of what’s important.”
They were entering the Looms now and the branches were wilder, taking over all the open spaces.
“We’re almost there.”
Sanna nodded, but she wasn’t sure he noticed in the dark. He took her hand and led her under the branches of one of the trees she’d spent hours repairing, one of the oldest in the orchard. The one, actually, that her necklace came from. The arching branches created a room. Just in case it didn’t survive, she savored stepping under its leaves.
“Close your eyes.”
“If I close my eyes, I might fall asleep.”
He squeezed her hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Trust me. I just need a few moments.”
And she did. Full dark took over her senses. She heard Isaac tapping on his phone, then orange light seeped through her closed lids.
“Open.”
Isaac had moved behind her so all she saw was her beloved tree lit up like a party. At least twenty mason jars hung from the branches filled with delicate strands of lights that blinked like fireflies, and Isaac controlled from his phone. He’d even tied a pretty blue ribbon around the tape holding the tree bark together. While she basked in the beautiful view, he fumbled more with his phone until a soft song crooned over the crickets.
“It’s stunning, Isaac. Perfect.”
He propped the phone in the crook of a branch and held out his hand to her.
“What?” Sanna looked at him blankly, unable to fathom what he wanted her to do.
“May I have this dance?”
Sanna covered her mouth with her hand. He had remembered her silly confession. “You don’t have to do this.” Protesting felt natural, even as she felt overwhelmed by how thoughtful he was.
Isaac still held out his hand patiently.
“I’m not going to dignify that nonsense with a response. Dance with me.”
She licked her lips and set her right hand in his. He pulled her gently in, so barely an inch remained between them. He set her hand on the back of his ne
ck and moved his now free hand to her waist. With his other hand he clasped hers tightly, but without force. His hand trembled at the small of her back, revealing the nerves he’d almost kept hidden. As they swayed to the gentle singing, Sanna resisted the urge to melt into him. She never melted.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for a pity dance,” she said softly in his ear.
Isaac moved his head back so he could look in her eyes.
“What?”
“I’m a thirty-two-year-old woman who’s never slow-danced—”
“Before now,” Isaac interrupted.
“Before now. This was too much work just because I mentioned that all the boys were too embarrassed to dance with me.”
“You are striking and tall, yes, and all those boys were fools because you are gorgeous. I can’t take my eyes off you. While I may not have thought of this without you mentioning it, that’s only because I’m not that clever. If anything, it gave me the excuse I wanted, but didn’t know I needed.” He took a deep breath, deep enough that his chest pressed into hers for a brief, wonderful moment. “I came here to get away from complications, but I found so much more than an escape. I care about you, Sanna. I don’t know what that means when Bass and I go back to California, but I know it means I want to spend more time like this with you. As much as I can.” He brushed his thumb on the inside of her wrist, weakening her knees.
Before she could respond, he went on. “You’re honest to the point of blunt, but I never question where I stand with you. Your love for this land is so deep, I want to be included in it, even if it’s just for a moment. I’ve never met a woman so certain of herself and of what mattered most to her. When I’m with you, I want to make you smile, ease your worries, and solve your problems, but I know you’d hate most of that. Watching you suffer the last day has been torture, but I gave you space because I knew you wanted it.” Isaac pressed his cheek to hers and softened his voice to a whisper in her ear. “Holding you in my arms right now is like holding a wish. You are magic to me.”
The Simplicity of Cider Page 20