To Find Her Place

by Susan Anne Mason

  Garrett’s chest muscles seized, and he gulped in a lungful of air. He had to stop thinking of her that way and maintain a professional distance. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said. “If you need me, I’ll be cruising the rows, checking on everyone.”

  Jane smiled. “Thanks. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  Garrett took one last look at the group, reveling in the unguarded joy on Martin’s face, before he headed for the row farthest away from temptation. His boots thudded heavily against the hard-packed earth as he walked.

  Peering up through the branches at the sunlight filtering through the leaves, he had the distinct feeling he knew exactly how Adam must have felt in the Garden of Eden.

  Even though Garrett’s temptation had little to do with fruit.

  15

  Can I climb the ladder to get those apples, Mrs. Linder?” Martin pointed to a spot high in the tree they were presently picking.

  Matt and Trudy had dragged the almost-full basket away from the tree trunk, while Denise sat on the grass, contentedly enjoying a polished apple. With almost four bushels full, the kids deserved a break.

  Jane shaded her eyes and looked up. “I don’t think we need to go quite that high.”

  “But Mr. Wilder said we had to finish each tree before we move to the next one.”

  Jane recognized the boy’s obstinate tone. Still, she didn’t feel comfortable letting any of the children go up the ladder. Perhaps she should do it, even if the idea of heights threatened to make her break out in a rash. “I’ll go,” she said. “I’m a lot taller, and I’ll be able to reach them.”

  “But I’m good at climbing ladders.” Martin jumped onto the bottom rung as though to prove his point. “Mr. McElroy made me use a big one to clean the gutters on his roof.”

  Jane pushed that disturbing piece of news to the background for the time being to focus on the matter at hand. “That may be so, but I’m not comfortable with you going up. So I’ll go. Each of you hold the legs while I climb.”

  She scanned the height of the wooden structure, which had to be twenty feet tall, trying not to let her fear show. At least she’d worn her sturdy boots, which steadied her as she started to climb. If she kept her attention focused upward, she should be fine.

  As she neared the top, she stopped to collect herself and assess the situation. Glancing over to the left, she simply stared. At this height, she could see above the trees to the amazing vista before her. She made out a neighboring farm in the distance, its red silo a beacon against the blue sky.

  “Oh my,” she breathed. “The view is magnificent.”

  “The apples are the other way, Mrs. Linder.” Denise’s voice floated up to her.

  Jane turned her attention to the tree. “I see them.” The apples were ripe, and if they weren’t picked soon, they’d likely fall to the ground as fodder for the squirrels.

  She stretched out her hand, her fingers just able to reach them. With one sharp tug, the clump broke free. Jane wobbled for a second, her heart slamming into her throat as the ladder quivered, but she managed to regain her balance. “Got them!” she shouted.

  The children’s triumphant cries surrounded her as she started back down. Descending, she discovered, was a far more difficult process than going up. It didn’t help that while clutching the apples in one hand, she couldn’t get a good grip. Still, she persevered, slowly making her way downward.

  As she was getting nearer to the ground, about to congratulate herself for her prowess, one of the kids yelled, “Mr. Wilder! Mr. Wilder! Did you see? Mrs. Linder got the apples way at the top.”

  Her foot slipped on the rung, but she quickly righted herself. Had Garrett been watching her all along? She took a deep breath and continued down.

  With two or three rungs left to go, strong hands grasped her by the waist and lifted her the rest of the way down, setting her feet lightly on the grass.

  “That was quite the effort.” With one finger, Garrett nudged her kerchief back in place. An amused expression lit his features.

  She took an awkward step back and gave a breathless laugh. “It was worth it. The view from up there is fabulous. Plus, I got what I went for.” She held out the cluster of apples. “Here, Trudy. Put these in the basket for me, please.”

  The girl ran over to retrieve the fruit.

  “Can I go up next time?” Martin tugged on her sleeve.

  “Definitely not,” she said. “Now that I’ve been up there, I know it’s much too dangerous.”

  Garrett laid a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Mrs. Linder is right. Too many accidents happen on ladders.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay. I came to tell you we’re going to break for lunch now.” Garrett pulled his cap back on. “Let’s go find out what my mother has made for us to eat.”

  Jane made sure all the kids were accounted for on blankets under a pair of oak trees and checked that they were following the instructions of the adults, then went over to the wagon to help Sarah unpack the baskets of food. Mama was sitting under a tree where she’d been observing the pickers all morning, now talking with Ben Wilder.

  “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble for you,” Jane said as she removed the wrapped sandwiches.

  “Not at all. I’m used to feeding the workers, though they’re not usually this animated and lively.” Sarah gave her a wide smile. “As soon as everyone’s settled, I’ll take Hildie back to the house. I’ve offered her one of our rooms if she’d like to rest for a while after lunch.”

  Jane straightened. “That’s kind of you, but I don’t want to put you out.”

  Sarah laid a hand on Jane’s arm. “It’s no trouble. I’ll enjoy having some company up at the house. Please try not to worry.”

  Jane could only nod. It was obvious Garrett must have filled Sarah in on her mother’s condition.

  “Why don’t you start handing out these sandwiches?” Sarah said. “I’ll bet the country air has made those little ones ravenous.”

  Ten minutes later, the children were seated on the ground, happily munching their food amid giggles and bursts of laughter. From her spot on the blanket, Jane forced herself to set her worries aside and relax, taking a moment to enjoy the carefree pleasure on the children’s faces. By habit, her gaze found Martin, and warmth spread through her chest. In this setting, Martin seemed like a different boy. Relaxed and loose-limbed, laughing with the other children, as though for the first time he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Jane smiled as she unwrapped her sandwich. Giving the kids this taste of life outside of the city was better than a tonic for their health—both physical and mental. Perhaps these types of excursions were something they should incorporate more often into the children’s schedule. They deserved to be exposed to more of what life had to offer than simply going to school and coming back to the shelter at night.

  “May I join you?”

  Jane blinked up at Garrett standing in front of her. She hadn’t seen him for a while and assumed he’d gone back to the house.

  “Of course.” She scooted over to the far side of the plaid blanket to give him space.

  He plopped down beside her, a roast beef sandwich in hand. “The kids seem to be having a great time.” He took a huge bite from his bun.

  “I was just thinking the same thing. It’s been a real treat for them. And so far, no disasters.” She gave a nervous laugh.

  “That’s always good.” He smiled, his dimples flashing.

  Away from the office, he seemed different, so relaxed, clearly in his element. Out here, he exuded a type of confidence that Jane found immensely appealing. Surrounded by his family and the children, she could picture what a good husband and father he would make one day.

  The hair on her arms prickled, and she suddenly realized just how close he was to her. Close enough to see the silver flecks in his blue eyes. Close enough to notice a tiny white scar by one of his eyebrows and to smell the clean scent of his soap.

  Trying to ignor
e the flutter of her pulse, Jane took a small bite from her sandwich and chewed slowly, then washed it down with a swallow of lemonade.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “How could I not? It’s beautiful here.”

  “Then why don’t you seem as relaxed as you were earlier? Your shoulders are bunched up tighter than a corkscrew.”

  She shifted her position, purposely trying to loosen her muscles. “I guess I’m not very good at relaxing. It seems there’s always something to worry about.”

  Ever since her father died when she was sixteen, the world had become an unsafe place. She’d worried how her family would survive without her dad. Worried about her brother’s wild streak that took over without their stern father to keep him in check. And later, once she’d married Donald, she worried about being able to give him the family that was so important to him. Now, she worried about excelling in her career while trying to keep her mother in good health. Not to mention her concern over all the lost and abused children who came through the agency’s doors each week.

  Sometimes it all seemed too much to bear.

  He regarded her steadily for several moments. She could feel the weight of his gaze as she focused on the orchard in front of them.

  “I think it’s time we remedy that fact. This afternoon, I want you to think only about the fresh air, the sunshine, and the trees. It really is God’s country out here, and He’d want you to appreciate its beauty.”

  Jane held back a sigh. He made it sound so easy. But she’d been bearing the burden of responsibility for so long, she couldn’t just let it go at the snap of her fingers. “I’ll try,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied until she gave an answer.

  “Good. I intend to make sure you do.”

  Needing a distraction from his disarming gaze, Jane reached in the picnic basket and took out a small jar. “Is this homemade applesauce?”

  “Sure is. It’s Mom’s famous recipe, with a secret ingredient she won’t divulge to anyone. Not even me. Go ahead and try it.”

  “I will.” Jane found a spoon, took off the lid, and lifted a spoonful to her mouth. A burst of amazing flavors hit her tongue. Tart apples, brown sugar, cinnamon, and some other spice she couldn’t quite place. Likely the secret ingredient. “It’s wonderful. The best I’ve ever tasted.”

  He laughed. “I’ll make sure to tell her.”

  “I suppose you can’t go wrong when you’re using apples right off the tree.” She smiled and tilted her head to peer over the orchard. “I can see why you love this place. What I don’t understand is why you aren’t working here with your family. Why are you living in a rooming house in the city and working in an office?”

  When the muscles in his jaw hardened, she wished she could take back her questions. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I do love this place, and I always intended to take over the farm one day. I even got my degree in order to help Dad run the business side of things.” Shadows lurked in the depths of his eyes.

  “What happened?” she asked softly.

  “The war happened.” Bitterness twisted his handsome features.

  She drew in a slow breath. “Your injuries . . . ?”

  “Yes.”

  A calming breeze flowed over them as she waited for him to elaborate. Yet Garrett’s thunderous expression was anything but calm.

  “A grenade went off when I was helping a fellow soldier. I woke up in a hospital with no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there.” He rolled his napkin into a tight ball. “I was one of the lucky ones, though. I managed to keep all my limbs. But my injuries still prevent me from being able to fully embrace life on a farm.”

  “Was that the reason you wouldn’t ride on the wagon with us?”

  He looked away and nodded. “The jostling of the tractor over uneven ground isn’t good for”—he hesitated—“my back.” A nerve pulsed in his neck.

  There was much more Garrett wasn’t saying, Jane was sure of it. She’d never seen any evidence of him favoring his back. In fact, he seemed nimble enough, quick to jump up to help anyone who needed it. She imagined someone with a back injury would move carefully, maybe even limp a little. But Garrett appeared perfectly healthy.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “That must have been hard to accept.”

  “It was. When I realized I couldn’t do the physical labor anymore, I took some more business courses geared toward finance and auditing to give me a better chance at a job behind a desk.”

  “But that’s not what you really wanted to do with your life, is it?”

  “No,” he admitted. “It’s not.”

  How sad that he’d had to forfeit the desire of his heart and settle for second best. Much like her situation in a way. Her dream of having a family had died with her miscarriages, and now she too was making the most of her second chance.

  It seemed they had more in common than she thought.

  Garrett glanced at Jane’s face, trying to interpret her reaction to his admission of weakness. Why had he told her about his injury? Now she’d view him with pity, maybe even with less respect than she did before. But at least he’d held back the worst of his condition and the uncertainty that would forever hold his future hostage.

  “I imagine it’s hard to come home every weekend,” Jane said. She peered at him under her lashes, as though afraid of saying the wrong thing.

  “Not really.” He plucked a blade of grass and ran it through his fingers. “I’ve learned to accept my limitations and help with whatever chores I’m able. Plus, seeing my niece and nephews is more than enough incentive to come home. They ground me. Make me remember what’s truly important in life.”

  “I’m sure they do.” A flash of emotion passed over her features. “There’s nothing like children to put everything into perspective.” She gave a soft smile and gestured to Martin, playing ball with Garrett’s two nephews. “If only Martin could be this happy and carefree every day.”

  The ball dropped to the ground and rolled onto their blanket.

  Martin raced over to retrieve it. “Sorry, Mr. Wilder. I missed.”

  “It’s all right. You just need more practice.” Garrett snatched up the ball and got to his feet, happy to have a distraction from the charms of the woman beside him. “It’d be easier if we had a catcher’s mitt, but for now, let’s practice without one.” He lobbed the ball in a high arc.

  Martin ran, reaching upward, but it fell through his fingers.

  “Nice try.” Garrett jogged across the space to join the group of boys.

  “Uncle Garrett! Throw it to me.” Kevin jumped up and down behind Martin.

  Garrett complied, and after a few more throws with his nephew, he paused. “I think Martin needs some practice. How about we teach him to catch the way I taught you?”

  “I can catch too.” Dale’s lower lip protruded, the boy always wanting to be as good as his big brother.

  Garrett laughed. “Of course you can. Now, what’s the number one rule I taught you?”

  “Keep your eye on the ball,” his nephews yelled in unison.

  “That’s right. Got that, Martin? Don’t look away as it comes toward you.” He threw the boy another easy ball.

  This time, Martin managed to catch it.

  “That’s it. Now, you throw one to me.”

  Martin screwed up his face as he leaned his arm back and let the ball fly.

  Garrett could have jumped for it but coming down on the uneven grass might jar his back, so he gave the appearance of a good effort, letting the ball roll out of reach.

  Martin stared, waiting Garrett’s reaction.

  “Good throw, Martin. I wasn’t fast enough to catch it.”

  Garrett retrieved the ball and handed it to Kevin. “Why don’t you give Martin a few pointers? I’m sure you could help him a lot.”

  Kevin grinned. “I can do that.”

  They’d only thrown a couple of ball
s when Dad’s voice boomed over the field. “All right, everyone. Who’s ready for more picking?”

  The kids all leapt up from wherever they were and took off at a run. Garrett picked up the forgotten ball and walked back to the blanket.

  Jane had already packed up the remains of their lunch. “Thank you for doing that,” she said as he approached.

  “Doing what?”

  “Giving Martin some attention. I could tell it meant a lot to him.”

  He shrugged. “I only treated him the same way I would my nephews.”

  She folded the blanket over one arm with a smile. “Exactly. It’s good for Martin to see that not all men are stern taskmasters. That some treat kids with kindness.”

  He shook his head. “It’s a shame what he’s been through. I can’t imagine anyone not loving kids the way I do.” He had to look away from the admiration shining on her face, afraid it might go to his head. Afraid he might think her comment meant more than it did. “Well, have a good afternoon, and watch out for those ladders.”

  As he walked away, her laugh followed him, seeping under his skin and warming his soul. “Get a grip,” he muttered under his breath, sternly reminding himself that Jane was a co-worker and nothing more.

  It didn’t matter that she wasn’t married. It didn’t even matter if she found him attractive or admirable. The nature of his war wounds made it impossible to share anything other than friendship with a woman.

  Because how could he promise a future to someone when he didn’t know if he’d even have one himself?

  16

  In direct contrast to the idyllic time spent at the Wilders’ farm, the next week created a host of new problems at the office for Jane.

  Garrett had been looking into Mr. Bolton’s background in order to learn as much as possible about the man before he interviewed him about the missing money. He’d found out that Mr. Bolton had been let go from his full-time job several months ago and hadn’t told anyone about it. Garrett’s theory was that the man had been stealing from the Children’s Aid out of desperation, not greed, which made Garrett want to be extra careful in throwing out accusations. Jane had enough on her plate and was happy to let Garrett handle that particular problem.