The Orchard at the Edge of Town Page 19

  Not true. She’d been snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Simon had closed her door to try to mute the sound.

  He kept his gentlemanly manners his parents had instilled in him and didn’t mention it.

  “You need a nap,” he suggested. “Why don’t you go on home and rest?”

  “I’m making meat loaf for the girls this afternoon. I promised I would while we were on the way to church this morning.” She was still eyeing Apricot, who was eyeing her right back. The difference was, Apricot looked pleasant, a smile curving her lips. Daisy’s lips were pressed tight, her eyes hot with irritation.

  “There’s no need to make me and the girls a meal, Daisy. We can manage just fine on sandwiches.”

  “I always cook on Sunday.”

  True. And he always tried to get her to not cook. “You haven’t always been recovering from a trauma.”

  “I need to keep my mind off things. Cooking will help.”

  “There are probably better ways to get your mind off things. You could go out with a couple of your friends. Maybe see a movie or go to the diner,” he suggested.

  “You don’t want me around!” she accused.

  His blood pressure was rising, and he was about out of patience, but he did everything in his power to keep it from showing when he answered. “Me saying you need to relax and get your mind off things, doesn’t mean—”

  “Can it!” she snapped. “You just want to spend more time with her!” She jabbed a finger toward Apricot. “And that’s just fine. You just go ahead and do what you need to do. I’ll be here when she’s moved on to the next man on the list!”

  She stomped away.

  Apricot let out a soft, low whistle. “Sorry about that, Simon. I didn’t mean to cause trouble in your family.”

  “You didn’t. Her ex-boyfriend did. Ever since he ran off with someone else, she’s been a little nuts.” Although, truth be told, Daisy had been a little nuts before Dennis left. She’d just had someone else to focus the crazy on.

  “She’s heading for thirty, isn’t she? She’s probably hearing her biological clock ticking away.”

  “You don’t need to make excuses for her. I’m not going to boot her out of the family because she’s a little more high-strung than usual.”

  “A little, huh?”

  “A lot, but I’m hoping she’ll get over it and things will calm down a little.”

  “How long have you been hoping that?”

  “Six months.”

  She laughed, her cheeks pink, her hair shining in the sunlight.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?” The words slipped out, and Apricot’s laughter died away.

  “I’m not,” she said, and he knew it wasn’t false modesty. Knew she wasn’t fishing for compliments or looking to be reassured.

  And, God! That made her even more gorgeous.

  “There is nothing more beautiful than a woman’s laughter,” he responded lightly. “And nothing more attractive than someone who is comfortable in her own skin.”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow!”

  “What?”

  “Just . . . wow. Your breed of men supposedly died out decades ago. But there you are. In the flesh. Alive and well.”

  That made him smile. “I didn’t realize there were breeds of men.”

  “Of course there are. Playboy, workaholic, little boy, momma’s boy—”

  “Good old boy?” he offered.

  “That too, but I’ve never dated one.”

  “You’ve dated all the others?”

  “Lionel was all the others. But I’ve also dated the pessimist, the narcissist, the randy dog.”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding.”

  “Only a little.”

  “So, what kind of breed am I?”

  “You?” She studied him for a moment. “That’s easy. You’re—”

  A scream rent the air, the shrill sound making the hair on Simon’s arms stand on end. Another scream and another, and Daisy came tearing across the parking lot, her jean skirt tangling with her legs as she sprinted back toward the church. She fell, righted herself, and just kept coming.

  He ran toward her, a throng of people rushing with him.

  Everyone was talking at once, the murmur of the crowd making it impossible for Simon to hear what Daisy was saying. And she was saying something. Her mouth was moving, her eyes wild.

  “What is it?” He took her arm, scanned the parking lot, expecting to see someone fleeing the area.

  “My car. Someone vandalized my car!” she cried, tears pouring down her face.

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “Of course, I didn’t! I was in church!” she wailed.

  “There, there, dear.” Ida Cunningham appeared at her side and offered her the kind of motherly embrace that Simon couldn’t have managed.

  Daisy buried her face in poor Ida’s shoulder and cried hysterically.

  “Could someone get her some water?” Ida asked, and a group of women rushed back into the church. “Come on, let’s sit you down on the steps while Simon checks on your car.”

  Ida led her to the church stairs, and Daisy plopped down like her legs couldn’t hold her. The congregation moved in, and Simon could barely see her sitting there.

  The twins had somehow made their way into Apricot’s arms.

  “I’ve got them,” she mouthed.

  And he knew she did.

  As long as it took him to check out Daisy’s car, she’d be there with the girls, distracting them from the hysterical sobs that were being wrenched from their aunt’s throat.

  There was something really nice about that.

  He didn’t mind acknowledging it.

  It took him a couple of minutes to find Daisy’s car. She’d parked at the far end of the lot, to the side of the church. A few other cars were there.

  He walked around the vehicle, realized the front tires had been slashed, snapped a couple of photos with his camera phone, and texted Cade for backup. Simon wasn’t on duty, but he could at least secure the scene while he waited.

  There was no sign of any other vandalism. No eggs. No scrawled words. Just the tires.

  “Simon!” Jethro Fisher hurried toward him. Pastor of Apple Valley Community Church, he had a reputation for being kind and generous. As far as Simon knew, no one in town had a bad word to say about him or his wife, Natalie.

  “Sorry, Pastor. This is a crime scene. You’re going to have to stay back.”

  Jethro stopped a dozen feet away. “Looks like those tires are good and flat. Anything I can do to help?”

  “Just keep everyone out of the parking lot until Cade gets here. He might want to interview people, so if you wouldn’t mind getting the names of people who are here, that would help.”

  “No problem.” Jethro didn’t leave. Just stood watching as Simon peered under the car.

  “If you want to do that now, that would be great,” Simon suggested, and Jethro smiled.

  “Actually, it’s already being done. My wife loves a good whodunit story. She thought it would be a good idea.”

  “Natalie is a smart lady,” Simon responded absently.

  Nothing under the car. Nothing under the cars to either side. Too bad.

  “Yes. She is,” Jethro responded, and there was something in his voice that made Simon look away from the tamped-down grass near the curb.

  “Everything okay, Pastor?” Not that it was his business, but Natalie and Jethro had always been good to the girls. They’d even babysat on a few nights when Daisy hadn’t been available. If they were in trouble, he’d do what he could to help.

  “Sure. Of course,” Jethro responded a little too quickly. “I’d better go help my better half. If you need anything, just holler.”

  He hurried away, his lanky frame nearly skeletal beneath his worn suit. Had he lost weight? Was he having health issues? Marital problems?

  The last seemed improbable. Everyone in town knew how deeply he loved his wife.

&nbs
p; Simon’s cell phone buzzed, and he glanced at an incoming text, expecting it to be from Cade. Instead it was an unknown number, the words making him smile. Daddy, can Apracot take us to the park. Daisy is screeming so loud our ears hurt and Rori is crying. This is Apracots phon.

  He typed a yes and sent the text, tucked his phone back in his pocket and headed into the cemetery. He was looking for footprints pressed into the grass or some other sign that someone had run through the area. He wove his way through old headstones and around new ones, the sun warm and bright, the day alive with the subtle noises of small-town life.

  Far below, Riley Pond shimmered in the afternoon light.

  It was a beautiful town with beautiful people in it, but someone had stolen Daisy’s wallet and someone had slashed her tires. Since Jet had been sitting in plain sight of the entire congregation of Apple Valley Community Church, Simon thought it was safe to say he wasn’t the perpetrator.

  He turned back toward the church, saw Cade’s patrol car pulling into the parking lot.

  He was a few steps from the lot when he spotted something glinting in the sunlight.

  A knife?

  He took a couple steps closer.

  Yep. A knife.

  It looked like something that could have been used to slash a couple of tires.

  He left it where it was and motioned for Cade to come over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cold lemonade on a warm day. In Apricot’s estimation, there wasn’t a whole lot that could top that.

  She took another sip of the icy drink, swiped moisture from her lips and waved at Evie, who stood at the top of the slide.

  “Watch me!” she screamed loudly, then whooshed down the slide with wild abandon.

  Rori followed a little more cautiously, her skirt wrapped snuggly around her knees, every hair on her head still neatly in place.

  Evie looked like a ragamuffin, her hair flying in a thousand different directions.

  Daisy would not be pleased.

  Hopefully, she’d gone home to recuperate and wouldn’t ever see the giant rip in Evie’s tights or the chocolate stain on the front of her dress.

  Getting the girls chocolate bars from the ice-cream truck might not have been the best idea. Especially since they hadn’t had lunch yet.

  Her cell phone rang, and she answered, still tracking the girls as they moved from the slide to the swings.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, you guys still at the park?” Simon’s warm, gruff voice washed over her, and her insides turned as melty and soft as warm butter.

  “Yes. How are things going?”

  “We’re done. I’ll swing to the front gate of the park and pick you up. How about lunch at the diner?”

  “After my last visit, I think I’ve been banned.”

  “Right. I’d forgotten about that.” He paused. “I can cook something for you.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m a fair hand in the kitchen, but today we’re going to do something simple.”

  “In other words, bread and peanut butter?” She laughed.

  “More like my ham and cheese on rye.”

  “Sounds better than chicken-foot gumbo.”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  No! Of course it didn’t, because she was absolutely not in the market for any kind of relationship. And going off to some guy’s house for lunch? That could be misconstrued as interest.

  “Apricot? You still there? You want to come to lunch? If not, I’ll just take you home.” Simon broke into her thoughts, and she opened her mouth to say exactly what she should.

  “Sure,” she said instead. “Why not?”

  He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic. I’ll be there in five.” He disconnected, and Apricot stayed right where she was for sixty seconds, just thinking back over the conversation and wondering how she’d gone from no way to sure.

  She called the girls and followed them as they skipped to the park entrance. The afternoon sun had just crested its zenith and was drifting lazily toward the western horizon. The twins were chatting and giggling and acting exactly the way little girls should. Apricot thought she probably should have been thinking about how sad it was that she wasn’t in Aruba with Lionel or that she wasn’t going to be trying for the family she’d wanted, anytime soon. She probably should have even been a little bitter that Lionel had moved on so quickly. She’d certainly spent a couple of sleepless nights thinking about it. She’d spent more than a few hours feeling lonely and unhappy, as though life were suddenly passing her by.

  Right then, though, with the sun bright and the sky blue and the girls giggling, those things didn’t seem all that important.

  She grabbed the girls’ hands as they walked through the park gates. All around them, Apple Valley drifted along at its own pace. People meandered along Main Street window-shopping as they sipped soda or iced tea. A few teens skateboarded along the sidewalk. A small group of bicyclists passed on their way into the park, and the girls waved, calling hellos to people they knew.

  It seemed almost perfect, this little town on the eastern side of Washington. It wasn’t, Apricot knew that, but she imagined it was about as perfect as any place could be. The longer she stayed, the more she liked it. The more she liked it, the more she thought about all the things she could do with Rose’s property, all the ways she could turn it around and make it into the productive orchard it used to be.

  Simon pulled up to the curb, and every thought about the town and Rose’s property flitted out of Apricot’s head.

  He looked good, the sunlight adding burnished red to his dark hair, his uniform shirt hugging firm biceps and a broad chest. He smiled as he rounded the SUV and opened the back door for the girls, and Apricot didn’t think she’d ever known anyone with a smile as warm as his.

  She must have been staring.

  He raised a brow and cocked his head to the side. “What?”

  “Just thinking that you have a nice smile.”

  His gaze dropped from her face to her lips.

  “You have a nice everything,” he murmured, opening the passenger-side door.

  She slid in, inhaling the clean, fresh scent of soap and shampoo and something indefinably Simon. She wanted to bottle the scent, use it to create candles that every woman on the planet would want to have.

  She was kind of drifting in a haze of happy contentment when she realized she and the girls weren’t alone.

  Daisy was in the backseat, head back, eyes closed. She looked like she’d been through the wringer. Poor thing. She had some issues, but she didn’t deserve the trouble she’d found herself in.

  “How are you feeling, Daisy?” Apricot asked softly.

  Daisy sighed and shook her head. “Terrible. I have one of those migraines I get when I’m really stressed out.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do—”

  Daisy moaned. “I don’t think any of your oils or teas are going to help with this.” She did look pale, her eyes hollow and deeply shadowed.

  “Do you have a prescribed medicine?”

  “I don’t get them often enough to have a prescription.” She groaned as Simon got in.

  “How you holding up, Daisy?” he asked.

  She moaned again. “Not good,” she said and closed her eyes.

  “I’m going to drop her off before we go back to my place. I hope you don’t mind,” Simon said quietly.

  “Not at all.”

  “I’d have mentioned it before, but she was fine until right before I left the church.”

  “I wasn’t fine,” Daisy interrupted. “I was trying to be. It didn’t work.”

  “You’ll feel better once you’re home and in bed.” Simon turned onto a side street and pulled up in front of a tiny white rancher.

  “I hope so. I don’t even know if I should be alone. My eyes aren’t working properly.”

  It might have been Apricot’s imagination, but she was pretty sure Simon�
�s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “Do you want to stay with me and the girls again tonight?”

  “It might be for the best. I know it’s a little tight since you only have the one bathroom, but I think it would be safer.”

  “Safer than what?” Simon muttered, but he pulled back out onto the road.

  “You’re going to have lunch with us, right, Apricot?” Evie hollered as if she weren’t sitting right behind Apricot.

  “Evie!” Daisy barked. “I have a headache. Don’t be so loud.”

  “Sorry, Aunt Daisy,” Evie whispered. “Are you, Apricot? Because that would be the most fun thing ever.”

  “Even more fun than eating chocolate bars at the park,” Rori added. “I’ll make your sandwich. I’ll put pickles on it. You like pickles, don’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t talk about pickles. I might puke.” Daisy groaned, and she sounded so miserable, Apricot shifted and motioned for both of the girls to be silent.

  They quieted down immediately.

  “You’re really good with them,” Simon murmured, patting her thigh absently. Heat shot straight from her leg to her gut, and she shifted away, her cheeks hotter than a Savannah sidewalk in midsummer.

  Thanks, she wanted to say, but the word just stuck in her throat, because his hand settled on her thigh, just kind of sat there all warm and nice.

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Daisy grumbled, “but I have got to have quiet. Every single word you say is like a thousand fireworks going off in my head.”

  This time, there was no doubt about it. Simon’s jaw tightened. He rubbed the back of his neck but didn’t say another word. The silence felt thick, heavy, and uncomfortable. Apricot wanted to break it, but she didn’t want to cause Daisy more pain.

  Simon turned onto a narrow street lined with tidy houses and neat yards. Mature trees and landscaping added charm to what might otherwise have been a typical neighborhood. Apricot had been to Simon’s house before, and she still found the little yellow cottage charming. The porch swing added a touch of whimsy to the bungalow. A few flower baskets hung from porch hooks and a little garden gnome peeked out from behind a shrub.

  Daisy’s doing?

  Apricot would have laid odds that Simon hadn’t set it there.