Out of the Blue

by Elizabeth Holland

  OUT OF THE BLUE

  A Blushing Bay Novel

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication may be used in any manner (digital, print, etc.) without the written consent of the author.

  Each character and each event within this book are entirely fictitious. Any likeness to a real person, whether alive or dead, is coincidental and unintentional.

  Cover design by Ira-Rebeca at Rebecacovers.

  Text ownership belongs solely to the author.

  Elizabeth Holland

  June 2020

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter One

  If only the clouds would have come out and blocked the sun, then maybe Hailey could have rolled down her window and smelled the sweet country air. The late September heat, though, only made her hair frizz, and the wind wasn’t about to help. She’d been driving for the past two hours; toward a place she wasn’t sure she’d ever see again. The family orchard was a beautiful gem, hidden beside a bay town in western Michigan. She’d loved it as a kid, back when her dad was still alive.

  Driving over the rolling meadow that surrounded the bay, Hailey caught sight of the Holloway Orchard. Down the hill and up again, Hailey sharpened her gaze over the vast estate. Beyond the meadows sat the hundreds of apple trees, all aligned in neat rows, all trimmed like perfect globes. And even from the road, from so far away, Hailey could see the bright red shimmer of the bunches of juicy apples. Berries, too. Their scent came through the air like hot jam on the stove. Slowing down as she neared the drive, Hailey took in the sight of the place.

  The house, a modest farmhouse-style home built in the late eighteen-hundreds, had whitish-cream colored siding and a dark green front door. Sitting back from the main road by about fifty feet, down an old dirt and gravel road, the house was something out of a movie. Large windows, trimmed in thick white molding, set perfectly symmetrical to the opposite side, peered down over Hailey as she rolled closer to the building. The grand and inviting wraparound porch, stained fresh each year, or at least, it used to be, in a warm gold tone. And those bright green bushes, the ones Hailey had helped Dierdre pick out nearly six years ago, all nestled in snug along the perimeter of the porch. Taking a deep breath, Hailey entertained the idea of keeping the place for herself. To come home to this. Whew! A quick shake of the head, though, and the notion disappeared with the fading shadows from the overhead clouds.

  Parking beside an old blue truck, Hailey turned off her car and checked her teeth in the mirror. That granola bar was delicious but messy. Lip gloss in hand, Hailey smudged a broad red line over her chin as a man’s voice shot through the open window.

  “Hailey Holloway, right?”

  Grunting, Hailey turned, readying to teach him a few manners, when his blue eyes, crisp like the sky was just that morning, shot deep into hers, stilling her completely.

  “You’ve got a little,” his brow arched as he tapped his chin. “Right about there.”

  Hailey huffed. Rolling the window up with the click of a button, Hailey faced forward without another word. She could see the man step back out the corner of her eye. How dare he? Wiping the gloss off her chin, Hailey composed herself before opening the car door and getting out. A quick slam and she was strutting up to the porch. With the man close behind.

  “The boys’ll sure be happy to see you. The blight seems to be coming up the back row, but it hasn’t touched anything past the creek, which flooded last Tuesday, by the way. The old gazebo might need a new leg on the right side, but she’ll be alright. Oh, and Laney wanted you to know she’d have the pies ready for the festival.”

  Hailey got to the top step, then she turned, tilted her head, and put one hand on her hip. “Look, Jacob, is it? I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not here to run this place. I’m here to sell it.”

  “Sell it?” the man’s grin fell right off his face.

  At the door, Hailey turned the handle, but it was locked.

  “Now, hang on,” the man joined Hailey at the door. “First of all, I’m not Jacob. I’m Tom.”

  “I was told Jacob would be meeting me with the keys.”

  “Well, he had to drop off his daughter in Pine Valley.”

  “Do you even work here?” she crossed her arms.

  Tom shook his head, and then that grin of his, along with two annoyingly irresistible dimples, came crawling over his face again. “I was a friend of Dierdre’s. I just wanted to meet our newest owner.”

  “Well, maybe if you come back in a week, you’ll meet them.”

  “You’re serious about selling, aren’t you?”

  “Mhm.”

  There was a pause of silence as Tom drew in a breath, as though he had something important to say. Hailey waited, her eyes traveling over Tom as she tried to understand exactly who he was. Blond hair, loose and messy. Just the kind of style that seemed to be both accidental and purposeful at the same time. The tips of his strands just hitting his ears, meeting those sideburns that were somehow the only perfectly groomed thing on the man. And that stubble. It was like Tom knew the formula for looking like a hard worker and an eligible bachelor, all wrapped up in a single compelling package. Coming back up to his bright blue eyes—eyes that were now watching her take him in—Hailey quickly looked to her shoes.

  “And you don’t plan to help out around here? With the harvest coming up and all?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Alright, then.” Nodding with his lips pressed tightly together, Tom gazed out over the driveway. Wearing a green and blue flannel, thin but just right for the gentle breezes of early autumn, Tom’s sleeves were rolled up a third of the way. Hailey watched as he tapped his fingers—bare and without a tan line from a wedding ring, not that it mattered—on his thighs, exhaling through his nose. No watch, either. He wasn’t the type of man who punched clocks or held meetings, he wasn’t like the men Hailey knew back in Lansing. Them and their perfectly cut hair, tucked in shirts, and shiny black shoes. Digging into his jean pocket, jeans that had tears and loose seams, Tom pulled out three keys on a little wire ring. “This one’s for the house,” he held one up, showing off the dirt on his knuckles. There was even a bit of dirt on his face. “I’m sure you can figure out the rest.” Lifting his brow, the man dangled the keys in Hailey’s face until she snatched them up with a grunt.

  “Thanks.”

  Tom gave a nod as he went down the stairs, planting his feet solid in a pair of brown boots that looked older than the house. Hailey had started to roll her eyes but seeing him turn back around made her stop.

  “How long until the place sells?”

  “I’m seeing the lawyer tomorrow.”

  Tom chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “What?”

  Tom paused to look out over the orchard. The softness in his eyes caught Hailey off guard. Whoever he was, he had a lot of heart. “You’ll be letting down a lot of people.” And there it was.

  “There’s nothing I can do about it. I have a life in Lansing that I plan to return
to.”

  Tom put his hands on his hips and bit at the inside of his cheek. Something was clearly on the tip of his tongue.

  “I bet they’ll take care of the place,” she offered, kindly as she could. “It’s historical.”

  “Oh, I know,” he took a step toward the porch. “But it’s not a protected site.”

  “Mr. Porter promised—”

  “Mr. Porter?”

  “Mathew. Do you know him?”

  “Oh, do I know that jackass!” Tom walked right up the stairs. Hailey drew back at the tone of Tom’s frustration. “He cares for no one but himself. He’ll ruin this place, and it’ll cost a lot of people their jobs.”

  “What do you care? You’re not losing a job.”

  “So? I care about the people who do,” his brow wrinkled as he stepped up and looked down over her.

  “Well, it isn’t your problem.”

  “I have friends who work here. People have spent their whole adult lives working at this orchard. Do you think they’ll just go out and find new jobs easily?”

  “It’s not my responsibility to find these people jobs,” she leaned closer, pointing her finger at his chest. “I had to work hard to get to where I am. No one gave me stuff just because of sympathy.” In the few inches that separated them, Hailey could smell the faint air of the lakeside clinging to the man like a glove and it threw off her concentration. That, and the fresh dirt, and the sweet apples, and his constant sway that kept mixing the scents together. She’d had the perfect speech for him, all mustered up in the moments since they’d met. But god help her if she could just remember one more word.

  Tom cleared his throat, leaning back to cross his arms. “Not your responsibility?”

  Hailey sneered as she faced the house. Turning the key, she popped open the door, and in came Tom behind her. “What are you doing?”

  Tom stood there with a blank look on his face. The screen door shut at Tom’s back as he pinned his hand to the frame. “I think you should at least wait until Dierdre’s been buried.”

  “She’s in an urn,” Hailey crossed her arms.

  “She deserves a proper burial.”

  “Then bury her. She obviously meant more to you than she did to me.”

  The corners of Tom’s eyes crinkled in disbelief.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I barely knew her,” Hailey leaned against the kitchen counter. “I hadn’t seen her in years. God knows she never called.”

  Tom stepped up into the shadows of the kitchen. “She still deserves a proper funeral.”

  Shit, don’t use that soft voice with me.

  Hailey drew in a long breath. “Even if you’re right—”

  “Well, then,” Tom’s grin returned. “We’ll do it during the festival. No, maybe the night before.”

  “The festival?”

  Tom nodded, stepping closer to Hailey as he leaned against the same counter as she. “October sixth.”

  “Wait,” she counted the days on her fingers. “Eight days? Tom I’m not going to be here that long.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have a job. I can’t just take that much time off.”

  “Oh, can’t you?” he scoffed.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Like you’re going to go to work every day.” The site of him rocking from his toes to his heels in quiet laughter set Hailey on edge.

  “Of course, I am.”

  “Isn’t the point of work to make money for your bills?” his brow ruffled as he put his hand on the counter. “Do you even know how much this place is worth?”

  “Yes. Do you?”

  Tom smiled briefly, then he looked like he was about to offer his opinion yet again, so Hailey spoke up.

  “Money isn’t the only important thing in life.”

  “It is for some.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Come on, Hails.” Tom’s grin hinted at peeking out when Hailey stomped up to him with narrowing eyes. Tom took a step back.

  “I can’t believe you. You don’t know me,” she pressed her finger to his chest again as he continued to scuffle backward. “How dare you come in here—uninvited—and be so rude to me!” Hailey kept on as the screen door popped open and out stumbled Tom. Catching himself with the banister just before the top step, Tom’s eyes shifted anxiously over Hailey.

  “Well,” he huffed. “If you aren’t just like Dierdre.”

  “What?” Hailey leaned over him until he backed down to the dirt.

  “Maybe meaner.” Tom sharpened his glare.

  “Meaner?”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “Well, Tom, it was a pleasure.”

  “Likewise.”

  God, was that dimple permanent?

  Tom faced Hailey quick as he opened the door to his truck and jumped in the cab. Shaking his head, he started it up and smoke plumed out the back. If that wasn’t enough to make Hailey laugh, the side mirror slipped from its bracket and hung down as Tom slammed the door. With a flick of her brow, Hailey crossed her arms, watching as Tom sped off down the drive, mumbling his opinions where she couldn’t hear.

  The nerve. Maybe she should have thrown dirt at him, but that wouldn’t have made a dent. He was already dirty. Oh well. She had other things to handle at the moment. Tom was gone, down the road and almost out of sight.

  Who was he anyway? Hailey had spent a summer here before college, going into town, seeing the beach. She never once saw Tom, yet he looked pretty comfortable around the place. Hell, he even seemed to care more about Dierdre than, well, than anyone Hailey had ever known. And that included her dad.

  Walking around the kitchen for a minute, Hailey ran her fingers over the old brass handles of the cabinetry. There were smudges and finger marks from repeated use, and the ones over the stove were greasy. And that stove! The ugliest shade of green Hailey could imagine. Dierdre obviously hadn’t updated the place in nearly forty years, and she wasn’t good at cleaning either. The mixer in the corner had a good amount of dust over the top, and the inside of the microwave was splattered with spaghetti sauce. Hailey made a face, crossing her arms and walking out to the living room.

  There, to the right of the entrance, sat a small, white loveseat with little blue flowers and wooden legs. Hailey pressed on the cushion, feeling the stiffness of the old material. Among other antiqued items sat a side table with the same wooden legs as the loveseat and a yellowish glass top. It probably wasn’t yellow when Dierdre bought it. On the table sat an old gold-colored lamp with an extravagant shade. Hailey was certain those lacey edges would someday catch fire from the heat of the bulb alone.

  Beyond the kitchen sat a hallway with a thin white door. This led into a mudroom, and then another door, made mostly of screen and old wood, led out to the yard. The mudroom, somehow empty and filthy at the same time, smelled of mothballs and dirt. In the corner by the screen door was a pair of muddy brown boots. And there was Tom in her mind again.

  The man didn’t work at the orchard, he’d said so himself. Yet, he was covered in dirt and had a bit of sun to his face like he had been outside a lot recently. That didn’t mean much, really, but Hailey couldn’t help but wonder why he was even there.

  Stepping out to the backyard, Hailey strolled up to the patio about twenty feet from the house. Four iron chairs with cushions sat around a little iron table. Perfectly square and clean, the patio was a lasting example of Dierdre’s desire to appear proper. She wasn’t that proper, not really. She wanted others to think so, though. Always with her chin up, always wearing that stupid fur coat for Christmas dinner. Why Hailey was thinking about the holidays was beyond her; those days were long past. Hell, the last time Dierdre visited for Christmas Hailey had just turned thirteen. And God knew Hailey didn’t want to remember that night.

  Hailey’s eyes traced the rose bushes, trimmed and in full bloom, that lined the perimeter of the patio. They were the only things on the whole estate—including the apple trees—that Di
erdre gave her complete care. At least that was what Hailey saw during her last visit.

  Back inside, Hailey walked through the hallway and came to the dining room. Running her fingers along the length of the heavy[EP1] wooden table, Hailey stopped to looked out the window. Framed by two floor-length, heavy curtains, the window captured the berry grove perfectly. Hailey could see blackberries and raspberries from there, plump and glistening in the afternoon sun. Behind her stood the staircase, a bold statement of lasting strength. The railing alone was so wide that Hailey couldn’t grip the circumference with one hand. The posts twisted up in a delicate, yet eye-catching fashion; each one dingy from years of neglect. The stairs themselves carried a carpeted center of worn red fabric. It didn’t look like something Hailey wanted to walk down with bare feet.

  Bare feet. When was the last time Hailey did anything without heels? Even grocery shopping was done in heels. And a skirt. And an hour of hair and make-up. Here, though… Hailey could relax a little. If she was really going to spend a whole week at this country estate, she couldn’t hardly go around all dressed up. Tom wasn’t dressed up. He was in jeans and his hands were dirty, and his flannel was loose and had a tear at the bottom. She could be messy. Well, she could dream anyway.

  Chapter Two

  Tom got out of his truck and slammed the door. Not her responsibility? She’d sure feel different if the town started talking behind her back. They would, too, in a heartbeat. It wasn’t that long ago Tom experienced their wrath after Caroline left him.

  “Tom, hey,” Ash greeted Tom as he stepped inside his bar and restaurant called The Port. “You’re late,” she threw a towel at him.

  “I was getting blackberries for the roast chicken.”

  “At the orchard?” Ash perked.

  “Did you meet her?” Marcy, a friend of Ash’s, asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Ash stopped at the counter with her tray full of dirty dishes and just stood there watching Tom go about his routine. Back and forth to the kitchen and the bar, Tom put on his apron and washed his hands. Ash tapped her foot, but he wasn’t going to humor her. Even if he could see her there out the corner of his eye while he poured a glass of water and took a long drink. Right passed the woman, Tom grabbed a bottle of rum from the top shelf over the bar, then headed back to the kitchen. He didn’t have to look to know Ash was following him now.