She got out and opened the tailgate to reveal a thick cushion of blankets and pillows. With a shaky hand, she flicked the switch to turn on the Christmas lights strung along the sides and started the romantic playlist she’d stayed up late last night to create.
“What is this?” Isaac said from behind her.
Sanna turned to face him, thrilled to see him already only inches away. Her hands cupped his face.
“I have wasted too much time this summer. We have wasted too much time.” She kissed him, his lips instantly joining hers, his arms wrapping around her back. With the fingers of one hand she dug deep into his soft curls, while her other hand traced the muscles on his back as they flexed with each movement. His breath still tasted of her cider, leaving her breathless and seeing fireworks. He trailed kisses from her lips to her ear, giving her time to inhale—but barely.
“Sanna.” It was hardly a whisper, more like a silent prayer. He put his hands on her hips and lifted her so she was sitting on the tailgate. She rejoiced that he was the exact height so when she pulled him in tight with her legs, their bodies aligned just right. They both moaned as their lips found each other, more frenzied than before.
Isaac pulled back, her lips pulsing in his absence. His chest rose and fell to the same tempo as her own.
“I find myself woefully unprepared again,” he said.
With her fingers, Sanna traced his jaw, over his lips, then to the back of his head. She could lose herself in his fiery gaze.
“Good thing I’m not. I made a trip to Sturgeon Bay so my purchases wouldn’t be fodder for the gossip monsters.”
Her lips followed her fingers’ trail over his jaw and lips to his ear, giving him time to adjust to what she proposed. She nibbled his ear, enjoying his quick breath. Her hands slid under his sweatshirt so she could feel the heat coming off his back.
“Sanna.” He kissed her forehead and took her face in his hands. “I want this. I want you so very much. I have since almost the first day I saw you, but you need to know that Bass and I are going back to California soon. That’s why I’ve been so hesitant. I didn’t want to be another person who leaves you here—and I will be.”
She smiled—he was trying to protect her.
“I know. And I love you for it. I’m not making this choice blindly.” Her hands traced circles on his back. “I realized that never making love with you would be infinitely worse than knowing our love is short-lived. I’d rather have the memories of these magical moments than regret my lack of courage.”
She kissed his lips again, just once. She wasn’t done explaining.
“Before you came here, I was content, but I didn’t know the joy of being part of something bigger and more special. You’ve shown me I want more than contentment. I want happiness. I may never find it outside of these moments, but at least I’ll always have them in my heart.
“I’m not going to ask you to stay. I know you have to get back home. I only ask you to not tell me until the day before. That way I’ll be forced to savor each day as if it were the day before the last. Can you do that?”
“You love me?” Isaac’s grin spread wide.
“Of everything I said, that’s what you remember?”
He touched his forehead to hers, tracing his hands along the skin at the top of her jeans.
“I remember every word, and I’ll never forget any of it. I love you, too.”
Sanna knew he had more to say, but she’d had enough of words. She grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt to pull it over his head. He watched her face as she memorized the lines under her touch, his heart thundering under her fingertips. She tugged at his waistband and when she slid back onto the soft bed she’d made, he followed. As the moon rose higher and the temperature dropped, neither of them noticed.
• • • • •
The back of the barn was wide open to Sanna’s work area as the noon sun warmed the top of Isaac’s dark curls on the cool early October day. He wore a thick, cream cable-knit sweater over his jeans, the kind perfect for a fall day spent in an orchard. Inside, huge crates of apples were resting, or sweating, as Sanna had referred to it. Only a few varieties of apples were ready to be pressed, but Sanna would be working for the next few months to get all the different juices she wanted using her new apple mill and press, then she’d spend the winter creating new blends. Her workspace had been organized for photos he had posted on Instagram. They’d also discovered its height was similar to that of the pickup’s tailgate. Isaac’s skin heated at the memory.
Outside, tables were covered in food, from smoked whitefish to Mrs. Dibble’s homemade chili. All the Lunds and Dibbles, as well as people from the community who had invested in Sanna’s cider, were there—even Eva Drake. They were here to celebrate the official launch of Idun’s Cider and to help Sanna with her first press of the season. Isaac was proud to be a part of it and stood next to Sanna surveying the process, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible while he could.
Einars and Mrs. Dibble joined them.
“Sanna, can you tell Eileen about the process?” Einars said to Sanna.
“Who’s Eileen?” Sanna asked, looking around for another person.
Einars blushed.
“I’m Mrs. Dibble to you,” she said.
“Pa, when did you learn her first name?” Sanna said.
“When she sat with me at the hospital and spent fifteen minutes scolding me for climbing a ladder at my age. If she was going to yell at me like a wife, I thought I should know her first name.”
Pieces clicked into place in Sanna’s head.
“Are you two dating?”
“We’ve been stepping out together for a few years. Not my fault you never noticed or asked.” Her dad avoided eye contact, but Mrs. Dibble winked at her and patted her dad’s arm.
How had Sanna missed that? She thought Mrs. Dibble might have had a crush, but it hadn’t occurred to her that feelings went both ways. She smiled at her dad—good for him. He deserved someone as kind and loving as Mrs. Dibble . . . as Eileen.
“So, are you going to explain what we’re doing today or what?” her father said.
The three of them followed Sanna to the beginning of the process.
“We have three stations set up. The first is for washing. The apples go into this large trough, where they get washed. Any rotten ones will sink, so the clean, good apples can move to the second station.” They walked to a conveyor belt moving apples toward a huge funnel six feet above the ground. “The apples go into the apple mill, where they are crushed into tiny pieces, called the pomace, or pa-moose, as Bass likes to say.” Sanna smiled when she said his name. She pointed to the bottom of the funnel where a black hose stretched toward the third station. “When we’re ready to press, we use this hose to fill the press with pomace. I have a hydraulic press I’ll use inside the shop, but for the party we’re using this one. It’s the bucket press the L1s used. The pomace goes into a bucket, then a flat plate presses down to squeeze out the juice when the large screw is turned. When the juice slows, we dump out the used pomace and start with the next batch. The collected juice is dumped into storage containers and put in my cooler.”
The boys took turns twisting the screw, showing off their strength and making muscle poses.
“I’m very impressed, dear,” Mrs. Dibble said, patting her arm. “Make sure to get some chili before it’s gone.” She walked off with Einars to where Sanna’s nieces scooped apples out of the water to send up the conveyor to the mill. Even they looked like they were having fun.
“It really is amazing,” Isaac said.
Sanna turned to face him, her glowing smile warming him in the chilly fall air better than the sunlight. Over the last couple of weeks, they’d spent every spare moment they could in each other’s company—occasionally sneaking around like teenagers through the orchard. He’d told her all about his marriage to Paige and her tragic addiction. Sanna had shared her painful history with her mom. Every moment was a stolen dro
p of bliss. He needed to talk to her privately, and soon.
As he reached for her hand, a woman he’d never seen before appeared by their side. She was petite and casually dressed in jeans, a green sweater, and a quilted black vest. Her light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. Isaac noticed Anders walking toward them at a slow pace, but ready to spring in case he needed to get there quicker.
“Sanna.” Her voice was soft.
Sanna stiffened when she noticed the small woman. Anders sped up to stand by Sanna’s side, Einars hobbling behind with a cane.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I like to see what I’m investing in before I put money down.” Her eyes looked at all the people helping out her daughter. “This is impressive.”
Her mom waited for Sanna to say something. Even though she was easily a foot shorter than Sanna, she held her gaze steadily.
“Susanna, maybe we . . .” Einars started to say, but didn’t finish.
“This is just for the party. Let me show you the real operation,” Sanna said, waving over Eva to join them and leading the two other women into the barn.
Anders hovered near the barn entrance in case he needed to intervene, and Einars tottered back to Mrs. Dibble—content that he’d done his part to maintain the peace.
Isaac motioned for Bass to join him by the mill, and he raced over, his shirt covered in apple chunks and wet from spilled juice. Some things never changed.
“I spoke to Einars earlier. We’re going to head home tomorrow. It’s time. You ready?”
Bass looked over his shoulder at the Dibble boys.
“I’m going to miss them, but I miss home more. It’ll be good to see my friends. And to see Grandma again.”
“You can chat with them whenever you want, I promise. And Grandma can’t wait to have you back.” Bass’s face brightened. “Now get back to work, and try to keep some of the apples in the bucket.”
Speaking of his mom, Isaac should probably let her know they would be home soon.
We’re heading back tomorrow. We should be home on Tuesday or Wednesday.
Her reply was instant.
IT’S ABOUT TIME!!!!!! TELL BASS I’LL MAKE HIS FAVORITE CUPCAKES. I’LL PUT SOME GROCERIES IN YOUR FRIDGE, TOO.
Thanks, Mom. See you soon.
LET ME KNOW WHERE YOU’RE STAYING EACH NIGHT. LOVE.
Leaving felt more real now that it was in writing. He just had to tell Sanna. It was her one request.
Sanna emerged from the barn with her mom and Eva, who both joined Anders at the food table.
“You okay?” Isaac asked.
Sanna looked at him and her blue eyes shone.
“I am. I don’t know if we’ll ever be close, but I understand her a bit better. It means a lot that she came here. Her setting foot on the orchard is the redwood of olive branches. I’m not going to take her money, though. It doesn’t feel right for her to be tied down in any way to a place she hated—at least not yet.”
Isaac hugged her. “It sounds like you’ve found some common ground. I’m happy for you.”
Isaac took a deep breath. It was time to tell her. He took her hand, still chilly from the barn, and led her back into its shadows, so they could be away from the crowds and nosy neighbors. He stopped in front of her workbench, where this had all begun, the window finally repaired with his and Anders’s help.
“I need to say something to you. Something I’ve been dreading.” Sanna crossed her arms. He loved how she could say so much without words. “Bass and I are going to be leaving early tomorrow. You said you wanted to know just the day before. It’s time.”
She dropped her hands and pressed her lips tightly together. After a moment she spoke and took his hand.
“I assumed it would be soon.” She smiled. “Come to my room tonight?” Sanna’s voice cracked.
“Yes.” He didn’t trust himself to say more.
She squeezed his hand and walked back into the party.
He took a few moments before following her out, joining Einars at one of the tables.
“You tell her?” Einars asked.
“Yes,” Isaac said.
“You know you can come back anytime, son.”
Isaac smiled.
“It would be fun to come back for a visit. Bass would love that.”
“I’m not talking about a visit. California might not be what it once was for you.” Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but Einars silenced him with a hand and continued. “I know you have a lot of things to settle. I just wanted to let you know you have a job and a home here if you want one. Whenever you want one.”
• • • • •
It was after midnight when Isaac finally knocked on Sanna’s door. Bass had been so excited that he’d had difficulty falling asleep—so Isaac had lain next to him until he dozed off. By that time, the rest of the house had gone to sleep, and he prayed that Sanna hadn’t drifted off without him. But his fears were unfounded. She opened her door wearing a silky blue nightgown that made her blue eyes electric. On a woman of average height, the gown would have hit midthigh—on Sanna it was scandalous and delicious. A single candle flickered behind her. Without a word, she grabbed him by his collar, shutting the door behind him and crushing his lips to hers. He gave into the whirlwind of kisses and caresses, knowing this would be their final night. He pulled her tight against him, walking her back to the bed, running his hands down the short length of her gown before slowly pulling it over her, like he was unwrapping the one present under the Christmas tree he’d put on his list. Right now, no words were adequate. He’d have to show her how he felt.
• • • • •
Sanna lazily traced a path with her fingers from his throat to where the sheet lay across his stomach, her naked body stretched out next to his. Isaac lifted her chin so he could look squarely into her eyes. Time was running out.
“I love you, Sanna Lund. When I came here, I didn’t recognize myself anymore. Everything in my life had been put on pause for so many years. I came here to hide, but I was found. You found me. Thank you for sharing this place—for sharing yourself—with me.”
His heart thudded. There was so much he wanted to say, but he struggled to find the words. She waited, seeming to know he had more to say.
“I need you to promise me something, will you? You were so guarded when we first met. Don’t go back to that. You have so much to offer someone. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open. I need to know that I didn’t make your life worse, because you have made mine immeasurably better.”
While it crushed him to think of his darling Sanna in someone else’s arms, he needed to know she would move on—knowing she could find the happiness she deserved meant he could move on, too.
She looked into his eyes, then responded, her lips wavering as she spoke.
“I promise. Someone very wise once told me that happiness is always worth remembering, even when it was temporary.” She took a deep breath, her chest pressing into his. “At dawn, please just kiss me one last time and go.”
He made the promise. But when the first hint of light seeped through the window, his heart cracked in half. Leaving her behind would leave his heart broken forever—he would never find love like this again. But he wasn’t free to follow his heart. Bass always came first, so he kept his promise and ignored the tears glinting in Sanna’s eyes. He kissed her one last time, both of them savoring this last moment, and walked out her bedroom door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sanna searched the refrigerator for the extra butter she knew her dad had bought and opened the crisper drawer to a surprise—a bag full of twigs from the Dancing Tree. She’d stashed one in the house, hoping one of her storage options would make a difference in the success of the grafts. She pulled a stick out of the bag and smiled when she realized it was still viable. It hadn’t dried and shriveled like all her previous attempts had—in fact, each baggie that she and Isaac and Bass and Einars and Anders had packed that horrible night had be
en viable. Somehow, grafting the Looms had become possible. Was she crazy to think it was the kiss that did it?
She set aside the bag with the stick on top of the counter. She’d deal with it after she found the butter.
“Pa, where’d you put the butter?”
Einars sat in front of the fireplace with Anders. Gabby and Sarah played hide-and-seek in the bedrooms with the Dibble boys, their occasional giggles and racing footsteps eliciting laughter and reprimands from the adults. Mrs. Dibble had promptly taken over the kitchen and bossed Sanna and Julie around like the miniature general she was. She’d even put Eva to work creating a centerpiece for the table from a box of table decorations. Mrs. Dibble had been horrified that Sanna had been letting Einars cook, what with his injuries and all. Sanna tried to point out that the injury was almost five months ago, and he cooked every night, but Mrs. Dibble put a peeler in her hand and pointed to the potatoes. She’d been assigned to the safe mashed-potato duty while Julie got the much more complicated gravy assignment.
It had been over a month and a half since Bass and Isaac had left, and Sanna still felt the hole in her chest where they belonged. She missed Bass’s unending questions and silly fart jokes. She missed Isaac’s brightness—especially now that the days were getting shorter and she’d be spending so much more time indoors. They’d connected online now that she had to take charge of the orchard’s site—so she saw the occasional picture of them, but it wasn’t the same. She couldn’t smell him through a picture or run her fingers through his hair.
She thought back to their last night. She didn’t regret one second of their time together—the memories had held her together when their absence almost pulled her apart. She’d tried to keep her heart open, like she’d promised. She even went on a horrible date. She’d spent the entire evening comparing the poor guy to Isaac, and the unsuspecting fellow came up short in every category. He wasn’t tall, he wasn’t funny, he wasn’t dark-haired. He wasn’t Isaac.
The Simplicity of Cider Page 26