“Me too.” Dale took off before Garrett could even blink.
Kevin kept pace beside Garrett as they made their way across the grass to the farmhouse. Dale had already rushed inside and left the screen door flapping open. Garrett let Kevin enter first, then walked into the kitchen, where his mother and sister stood elbow-deep in flour.
The boys headed right for the sink to wash their hands, likely knowing their grandmother would have their heads if they didn’t. Not to mention, they wouldn’t be allowed a cookie with dirty hands.
“Garrett. I was beginning to wonder where you were.” Mom lifted her cheek for a kiss. “It’s almost lunchtime.”
“Sorry, got a late start this morning. Hi, Cass.”
His sister swooped some blond hair off her cheek with her forearm, leaving a dusting of flour behind. “I hope you’re ready to do some picking. I promised the kids we’d help Dad this afternoon.”
“Sure thing.” Garrett studied his sister, noting the worry lines between her brows. “Anything I should know about?”
Cassie shot his mom a look.
Mom punched the dough a little harder. “We can’t get enough pickers again this year. I fear we’ll lose a lot of the crop.”
With so many of the men off at war, there was a shortage of people willing to do manual labor. A fine line existed between picking the ripened fruit and waiting a day too long, which ran the risk of the fruit falling to the ground, becoming nothing more than feed for the animals.
Garrett picked a cookie from a tin on the counter. “What if I post some ads at the office? Some of the people coming in might be in the market for some seasonal work. Couldn’t hurt.”
“That’s for sure. Any way we can bring more help to the farm is a good thing.” Mom applied the rolling pin to the dough, thinning it out with a precision born from experience. Just the sight of her in her checkered apron, a kerchief tying back her brown hair, warmed Garrett’s heart.
“Apple pie, Mom?”
“What else at this time of year?” She winked at him.
Garrett finished off the cookie and wiped his hands. “Where’s the princess?”
Cassie laughed out loud at his nickname for her daughter. “Your princess was misbehaving and was sent to her room.”
“Aw, what did she do now?” In truth, Mandy was more tomboy than princess, having to work hard to keep up with her brothers.
“She punched Dale.”
Garrett bit his lip to contain his laugh.
Cassie wagged a floury finger at him. “We do not condone violence in this family, Garrett Wilder. So don’t you be encouraging her—or any of them for that matter.” She walked over to the sink and washed the remains of the dough from her hands, drying them on a towel.
He held up his hand. “I won’t. I swear.”
“Good.” Cassie’s features softened as she picked out a cookie and handed it to him. “You can take one up to her, but don’t let on I know.”
Garrett laughed. “Must be tough having to be the only disciplinarian.”
“Are you kidding? If Jack were here, Mandy would have him tied up in knots.” Cassie’s bottom lip trembled as she turned away.
Garrett’s hand stilled. Poor Jack had missed most of Mandy’s life. She’d been only six months old when he’d enlisted four years ago. Garrett remembered being furious with his brother-in-law for leaving Cass and the kids. Most married men with children were exempt from enlisting, but since Jack had already been a member of the Toronto militia, his patriotic duty had outweighed his personal one. And if Cassie could forgive him for going, how could Garrett do any less?
He dropped a kiss to his sister’s cheek. “I’ll take this up and make sure her royal highness isn’t getting into any more trouble.”
That night, as Garrett and his family sat around the firepit with the flames crackling in front of them, a wave of pure contentment settled over him. Overhead, a blanket of stars winked out a greeting to all below.
In Garrett’s opinion, this was the best place on earth, where every problem seemed to fade into the background amid the wonder of nature. Where his connection to God seemed the strongest. Here, he always made it a point to appreciate the opportunities he’d been given, most especially his second chance at life. Even if it meant he couldn’t do as much of the physical farm work as he’d like.
Mandy sat on Dad’s lap, her fair head leaning against his chest. The two boys held sticks over the fire, competing for the best-cooked marshmallow. Mom and Cassie each sat on an old wooden chair, while the rest of the gang toughed it out on two fallen logs.
“I had a letter from Jack yesterday,” Cassie said suddenly.
“How’s he doing?” Other than their disagreement over Jack enlisting, Garrett and his brother-in-law had always gotten along well.
Cassie shook her head. “The way he’s living sounds horrible. And I’m sure he’s not telling me the half of it.” She sniffed. “But at least he’s alive, which is all that matters. I only pray he comes back to us soon.” She glanced over at Garrett. “This might sound selfish, but I almost wish he’d be wounded, like you were, so they’d send him home.”
Mom put an arm around Cassie’s shoulders. “No one wants to see Jack get hurt. Why don’t we pray instead for the end to this horrible war so that all the soldiers can come home?”
Cassie nodded but remained silent.
“Hey!” Kevin shouted. “You knocked my marshmallow off.”
“Did not.” Dale jumped up from the log. “Your stick hit mine.”
“Boys!” Cassie moved quickly between them. “I think it’s time to go in.”
The kids started to grumble, but Dad placed a hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “Do as your mother says now.”
“Yes, sir.” Kevin’s subdued tone seemed to calm his brother, and they each laid down their sticks.
Mom reached over to scoop Mandy from Dad’s lap. “If there’s no more fighting, maybe Uncle Garrett will read you a story after your bath.”
Garrett nodded. “I’ll be up in a while. Make sure you scrub those elbows and knees.”
Dale snickered.
“Me too?” Mandy piped up, peering over Mom’s shoulder.
“You too, princess.”
Dad chuckled as he watched the group trek across the lawn toward the house. “Those kids sure keep us on our toes.”
“No doubt. I’m glad Cassie has you and Mom to help her. I can’t imagine her trying to do it all on her own.” He stirred the embers with a stick, bringing the flames back to life. Then he snagged the two chairs and brought them over. Dad got up from the log and they settled back onto the seats.
“As much as I hate this war,” Dad said, “I’m cherishing this time with Cass and the kids. It’s something we’ll always remember, long after Jack gets back.”
“I love seeing them every weekend too.” Garrett lifted his mug of almost-cold coffee. “How are things really going with the orchard, Dad?”
Now that Mom and Cassie were out of earshot, he hoped his father would be more forthcoming.
Dad stroked his chin, staring into the fire. “Because of the unseasonably warm weather this summer, the fruit is ripening faster than normal. And we don’t have enough pickers.” He shook his head. “All we can do is trust the Lord to work it out for us.”
“Is that all? There’s nothing more I need to know?”
His father’s mouth tightened. “Just the same old issues. Too many expenses and not enough income.”
Garrett heaved out a breath. Things must be bad for Dad to even mention money. “I’ll try to figure out where we can recruit some more workers. Have you tried the church?”
“I have. Pastor Craig is spreading the word among the parishioners. He said he’d make an announcement at the end of service tomorrow, so we’ll see if we get any new takers.”
“I’ll see what I can do in the city. Maybe post a notice in the employment office.”
“That would be a help. Thanks, son.” Dad glanced ove
r. “So, how’s the new job going? Do you still intend to apply for the director’s position?”
“I think so. I’m already starting to see how I could make a difference. There will likely be a lot of interest in the position. But if I do a good job with the audit, I’m hoping to have an advantage over the other candidates.”
His heart gave a tug thinking of Jane and how, with her years of experience at the Children’s Aid Society, she really deserved it more than he. But he couldn’t afford to think that way. He needed to stay objective and let the board members make their choice.
“As long as you’re happy, that’s what’s important.” Dad rose and poured a pail of sand over the last of the embers. “Guess we should head up.”
“You go on. I’ll be right there.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I think I need a few minutes alone with the stars. And with the Lord.”
Dad gave a knowing nod. “Give Him my regards.”
10
Jane arrived late to the office on Monday morning, frazzled to find Garrett already seated in one of her guest chairs, his shirtsleeves rolled up as though he’d been working for hours.
“Good morning,” he said, lifting his gaze from the notebook on his lap. “I hope you don’t mind my waiting in your office. I had an idea I wanted to run by you as soon as possible.”
Even though she’d come in to work for a few hours on Friday after she’d made sure Mama was feeling better, she hadn’t seen much of Garrett. He’d spent most of the day shadowing one of the caseworkers to observe a typical workday. Which had suited Jane just fine. She was having a hard time reconciling the fact that Garrett had seen her at a weak moment. Just the idea that he’d been inside her house made her uncomfortable. She’d always done her best to keep her personal life private, and she had no intention of changing that.
“Good morning.” She skirted by his chair, mentally counting to ten to get her emotions under control. Keeping her back to him, she undid her jacket and hung it up. Before she turned around, she patted her hair to make certain it was still intact, then forced a neutral expression as she took her seat.
“How’s your mother?” he asked. “No additional fainting spells, I hope.”
“She’s doing much better, thank you.” Jane pulled out a pad of paper as she spoke. “We had an uneventful weekend, and she seems steadier today.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He narrowed his eyes. “And how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She folded her hands on top of the papers. “Now, what is this idea you had?”
A slight frown creased his brow, as though he didn’t quite believe she was fine. But thankfully he let it go.
“Do you ever take the children at the shelter out on any special trips?”
She paused to consider the unexpected question. “They walk to the park quite often in the good weather, and I do believe there might have been a trip to the Riverdale Zoo a few years ago.”
“How did that happen? Did someone rent a bus? Did you require chaperones?”
Jane blinked, surprised at the barely suppressed energy he exuded. “I’m not sure. We must have had some help with supervision, but they likely took the city transit. Why?”
His blue eyes brightened even more. “I had an idea when I was home this weekend. My niece and nephews had a great time helping my dad pick apples all afternoon. I couldn’t help but think how much fun an outing to our orchard would be for the kids at the shelter. Fresh air, sunshine, a hayride. They would love it.” He paused, his face animated. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she said slowly, then frowned. “Wouldn’t that fall under your category of a ‘frivolous expense’?”
His lips quirked up. “Touché. But I’m trying to find a way to do this with as little cost as possible. I think it would be a great experience for them.”
Jane forced herself to look away from the hopeful excitement on his face and remain objective. “I’m sure the children would love it, but there are practicalities to consider. How would we get sixteen children all the way out to your farm, which you said was about an hour away?”
“I thought I’d see how much it would cost to rent a school bus for the day.”
“And we’ve circled back to the second problem. We have a very limited budget for the children’s entertainment. A trip like that could use up the entire amount for the year.” She gave him a pointed look. “Much more than birthday gifts.”
“We’ll come back to that. What else is there to consider?”
“You mentioned it already. Supervision. We’d need several adults willing to come on this trip.”
“How many?”
“I think I’d feel comfortable with two or three. We can’t use Mrs. Shaughnessy, since she’d have to stay behind to manage the shelter in case any new children are dropped off as well as look after any of the current children who may not be able to go on the outing for one reason or another.”
“Got it. So, some of the usual helpers—”
“Would have to agree to come.”
“Right. One or two of them, plus you and I, and we’d be set.”
“Me? You expect me to come?”
“I hope you’d want to.” His eyes brightened. “And your mother would be welcome to join us, if she were feeling up to it.”
Jane resisted the urge to argue and forced her shoulder muscles to relax. She needed a minute to process his request. To take her emotions out of the equation and view the situation objectively. Sure, it would be fun for the kids. But would the logistical nightmare to arrange it be worth the trouble?
And then there was her mother. Would she be well enough for such an outing? Or would it cause a setback in her fragile health? Yet if Jane left her alone, she’d only worry about her all day. True, she often worked at the office on a Saturday, but she was only a streetcar ride away, should her mother need her. Not a sixty-minute drive away. She ran a hand over her brow. This was not the way she’d envisioned starting her week.
Garrett rose from his seat. “If you need some time to think about it, I understand. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can find out about the cost of transportation.”
“Very well.”
He stopped at the door. “If we can make this happen, I do hope you’ll consider coming. It’ll be a day you won’t soon forget.” He gave her a wide grin, then ducked out the door.
Jane blew out a breath. Why did this man send her senses reeling every time she saw him? She needed to remember she was a professional. In control. Logical and calm.
If only her unsettled nerves would listen.
Later that afternoon, Garrett knocked once on Jane’s open door, then stepped inside her office. “I’ve got great news.” At least, he hoped she’d think it was. “I’ve found a way we could transport the children to the orchard for free.”
She looked up, her glasses perched on the end of her nose. “That was fast.”
“What can I say? I’m inspired.” He dropped onto the guest chair. “A friend of the family is a bus driver who owns his own vehicle. When he heard about my idea, he offered us the use of the bus for free. Which will save us a bundle. And”—he grinned—“it will hopefully remove any objections to the trip.”
“That is good news. It will definitely make my decision easier.”
“Does this mean you’ve given the idea some more thought?”
“I have. And I’ve spoken to the staff at the shelter. Two of the assistants are willing to come along to help with the children.”
“That’s great.” He paused. “And what about you?” He leaned forward, a little unnerved at how much he wanted her to come. Deep down, he felt the trip to the country would be just as beneficial for Jane as for the children.
“It will depend on my mother, but if I can, I’ll join you.”
He couldn’t stop the spread of his smile. “Fantastic. You’ll love it, I promise. And the expressions on those kids’ faces will be worth any
effort it takes to get them there.”
“When will this take place?”
“The apples are ripe for the picking now, so I thought this Saturday, if possible. If not, the Saturday after will work too.”
She pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded. “I think we can make that work. Saturday it is.” For a moment, her features softened, and when she looked up, a sheen of moisture appeared in her eyes. “Martin is going to love this. That alone will make it worthwhile for me.”
He regarded her thoughtfully, and she continued, “He’s had so much misery in his eight years. He deserves some happy memories.”
“Well, he’s going to love our farm. I guarantee it.”
11
The next morning, Garrett whistled as he entered the office, still basking in his victory over the upcoming orchard trip. He looked forward to sharing the beauty of the farm with the children, an experience he knew they’d remember for a long time to come.
As he shed his overcoat, he became aware of a strange buzz of conversation that whispered through the main floor. Something was going on. Something out of the ordinary.
Not another crisis with a child, he hoped.
He peeked into the stenographer’s office, where a strange hush permeated the room. Several of the volunteers sat at their desks, staring off into the distance. Melanie stood by the window, a hand over her mouth.
He walked over to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
Melanie looked up and shook her head. “Jane just received a telegram. From the war office.”
A cold chill slid down Garrett’s spine. “Do you know what it said?”
“No.” Melanie twisted a handkerchief in her hand. “She’s holed herself away in her office. I don’t know if I should go in or let her be.”
Garrett paused. Melanie had a point. From what he’d seen of Jane, she preferred to handle personal problems on her own. Yet it didn’t seem right not to at least check on her. “I’ll look in on her.” He could take Jane’s wrath better than Melanie, who was already upset.
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