* * *
Jed’s trunk was full of stuff for his granddaughters—mostly clothes for the girls, which they needed. There was a jumper with a butterfly appliqué on it, the gauzy wings standing out and a few sequins sewn on that melted Berry’s heart and when she touched it she said, “Ohhhhh.” So Nora put it on her. While Berry was a long way from letting her brand-new grandfather cuddle her, she did gently finger that butterfly and look up at him with a slight smile.
He admitted that Susan helped with the shopping—there were even dishes and placemats for the girls. His gifts had not been extravagant. They were all necessities and he’d left the price tags on in case they should be exchanged. They were inexpensive, but so nice. And there was also a big bag of diapers, a case of formula, a box of wipes, a batch of bottles and sippy cups.
Then he took them all to Jack’s Bar for Sunday night dinner and it was the first restaurant experience Berry and Fay had. But there could be no more perfect place because not only was the grill stocked up on high chairs, booster seats and mini-meals for children, but there were a number of families there, including Jack’s. Jack shook Jed’s hand excitedly. “Welcome,” he boomed. “I didn’t know Nora had family nearby—that’s great. Nora is one of our favorites around here, just so you know. She’s helped out at the clinic, at the new school—a real trouper. And this town is made of troupers.”
A short time later Mel Sheridan came in with her kids and beamed when she saw Nora with her dad. Before even sitting down, she introduced herself and her children. “How fantastic you could visit! Nora’s become a good friend of mine. She reaches out to everyone, helping whenever she can—a godsend.”
Nora had the strangest feeling of being normal, even admired. She hadn’t felt like that very often in her life.
“And you thought I wouldn’t be proud of you?” Jed whispered.
What she learned after six hours with Jed was that he was neither the perfect fantasy father she had hoped nor the beast her mother had tried to prepare her for. Reverend Kincaid would no doubt be hearing a lot about this later. Jed Crane was an intellectual, a success in his field, but he was clearly not a social dynamo. Those parenting and relationship skills he now had were probably developed during the time he spent with his girlfriend, Susan. When Nora was a baby and preschooler he was a gentle and attentive parent without an angry bone in his body, but he didn’t have the skills to deal with someone like Therese. In fact, Therese might have seen in him a man she could manage. If so, that would explain her many years of anger that he would leave her.
He couldn’t protect Nora then. It was doubtful he could protect her now.
But he had good qualities. He was sincere, for one thing. And unless he was a truly gifted psychopath, he wasn’t very deep emotionally. Nor was he malicious. And the way he acted toward Nora and the little girls was sweet and precious.
He described his days; he could read for hours. He went to Germany or England or Poland for three months out of every year—he was a World War II scholar and had published two volumes and numerous papers on the war and the reconstruction after the war. He loved his field of study as much now as he had when he began his dissertation and had no desire to ever retire, however, his schedule was not strenuous, thanks to teaching assistants.
When they were saying goodbye after a successful first family visit he said, “I’d be willing to help you with the girls if you need a babysitter on weekends when you work.”
“With all due respect, I’ll need to know you better before that happens,” she returned.
“Completely understandable. I’d like to come back for another afternoon, as soon as you’ll allow it. I’d also like to bring Susan sometime.”
“Because she gives you credibility?” Nora asked.
“Well, no. She does, though. I’d like to introduce you. I’m not that great at presentation—something you no doubt have noticed. But Susan? She’s a natural. She’s so good around people that it makes you wonder what she sees in me. When you say it’s okay, I’ll bring her along—she wants to meet you.”
“You can bring her whenever you like,” Nora said. “But we’re sticking to just afternoons. Weekend afternoons.”
“I can’t wait to tell her,” he said. And then when he smiled, it was as if he’d transformed. All his shyness seemed gone, replaced with confidence and happiness. “Thank you for this,” he said. “It was one of the best days of my life.”
When Nora jumped in Tom’s truck early Monday morning, she was feeling pretty good about herself. And she realized before they were even out of town—she was humming.
“I get the impression the family reunion went well,” he said.
“You could say so. This Jed Crane—he seems to be a nice guy. He brought the girls lots of things—clothes, toys, supplies. Since I’ve been needing that stuff, it felt good. It didn’t get him any special privileges or anything, but I was grateful. This was the first time I’ve spent a whole afternoon with my father since I was a little girl. I can’t tell if he’s who I remember or a brand-new person.”
“Maybe he’s both,” Tom said.
“There are things about him I never knew because my mother was too mad at him to tell me anything good. He’s a Ph.D, for one thing. History.” She laughed a little. “When he starts talking about history, it’s almost as if he’s transported to another time and place—he’s fascinating. I can see how he can inspire his students to learn. And it would never have occurred to me to look in the academic or history book section of the bookstore or library, but he’s very accomplished. He loves World War II—it sounds like he’s an expert. Who knew?”
“Why didn’t your mom tell you?”
“I don’t think she wanted me to like anything about him, since he walked out on her and all. She needed it to be all his fault. And he didn’t exactly defend her, but he did suggest that maybe she just wasn’t capable of much more. That in leaving, he hurt her too much.” She shook her head. “It’s going to be a while before I get there—I’m still pretty angry with my mother. In fact, now that I know my father paid support and wanted to see me, I might be angrier. It wasn’t easy growing up hearing that half of my biology was no damn good, as my mother used to say.”
“She said that? Really?” Tom asked.
“Of course she did,” Nora said. “But I told you that already. That’s why I’m going to think of some positive things to tell the girls about their father when they start to ask.”
He gave a huff of laughter. “That should be interesting. The guy’s an addict in prison for dealing.”
“I know,” she said. “He’s a tragedy, when you think about it. Here was this guy with a dream—a gifted ballplayer who had it all for a little while—a scholarship, a league contract and looks, and then something happened to him. Did he get the idea that things could be a little easier and faster and maybe more fun if he had some pharmaceutical help? Did someone give him something and wham, he was hooked? I’ll never know. I guess he wouldn’t be the first pro athlete to go down that road. It’s an American tragedy, that’s what it is.”
“Nora,” he said, almost shocked, “he wasn’t good to you!”
“I know,” she said softly. “But I don’t want my kids to carry that load. That’s my load. I remember when I first met him—damn, he sparkled all over. Getting involved with him when it wasn’t a good idea, that was probably as much my fault as his.” She turned and looked at Tom. “I had some friends, but when it got down to family, to people who would always play on my team no matter what, I was a little lacking. I was probably stupid and very lonely.”
Tom took a deep breath. “I hope he stays in prison a long time.”
“Oh, me, too. It’s one thing to find positive things to say to the girls about their father. But let him near them?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I
will
protect them.”
He grinned. “Five feet four inches of hell on wheels.”
She smiled back. “Four and a half inches!”
“But,” he wanted to know, “are you lonely now?”
“Not lonely,” she said, shaking her head. “The kind of friends I have now are tough. Genuine. I have Noah and his wife. There’s Adie, Martha and Leslie—three strong women who have never judged me. And there’s…well, there’s you.”
“Me,” he said. It was almost a question.
“Yes, you’re the one who said we were friends. Without any effort at all, you have me telling you all my personal business so even if you don’t think of me as a friend, I think of you as one. So, how was your weekend?” she asked. “Did you work the whole time?”
“Mostly. But I’m going to take a little time off next weekend. Will your father be back?”
“I’m sure of it,” she said. “We haven’t made specific plans yet, but he didn’t seem to be bored for one minute yesterday. And I know he wants to include this lady friend he’s been seeing for fifteen years.” As Tom pulled up to the barn, she asked, “Do you have overtime on the weekend?”
“Possibly. But I have a friend coming and I’m going to take a little time. Junior and Maxie will be in charge.”
Her eyes lit up. “A friend?”
“A woman.”
“Holy cats!” she said. “You have a girlfriend?”
“Not yet,” he said, turning off the ignition. “This is her first visit.”
“Wow. Maybe we should shut the place down for a while, give you kids your privacy.” And she winked.
“She’s staying at the house, Nora. Privacy and Maxie are mutually exclusive.”
“Awww,” she said. “Well, take it from me—you want to move slowly. Make sure you know what you’re doing.”
He laughed at her. “And do you know what you’re doing now, Miss Nora?”
“I absolutely do,” she said with a nod. And then she thought,
Did I really
wink
at him?
* * *
Nora happened to be picking not far from the drive into the orchard on Friday afternoon when a very classy red Caddy pulled in. She almost fell off her tripod ladder straining to see the woman get out of the car. Nora leaned so far right the ladder wobbled and she had to quickly grab on to a branch and right herself before she ended up on the ground under a pile of apples.
But wow, was this woman gorgeous. She didn’t seem the type Nora would have pegged for Tom—she was very fancy in her red high-heeled boots, creased slacks, charcoal cape and multi-colored scarf. Those
red boots!
Nora almost swooned with desire—
red leather boots
. Was there anything more extravagant? And she had the kind of hair Nora had always envied—sleek, soft, shoulder-length blond that swung with her movements and yet kept its shape. As she casually slung her scarf over one shoulder, her beautiful hair moved in an almost choreographed manner. It caused Nora to touch her own hair self-consciously. The only haircuts she’d had in the past four years were the ones she gave herself.
But those clothes, those boots, that car—the woman looked like visiting royalty.
Oh, she was so happy for Tom. Surprised, but very happy. He deserved perfection.
And then he came across the orchard toward the woman, marching fast, smiling broadly. He was wearing his uniform of jeans, knee-high rubber boots, blue company shirt with the logo, sleeves rolled up, drawing attention to those muscled forearms and big hands. It was chilly in the orchard, but people who were working, like Tom and Nora, didn’t need jackets. He swept off his hat just as he got near her, then pulled her into a big hug, rocking her back and forth. Then they separated quickly on a laugh; she brushed off her expensive cape. Yes, he was probably dirty. She’d watched him aerate between the trees, fix the fence and load wooden crates full of apples today.
She watched them walk across the yard and mount the porch steps, arm in arm, laughing.
Yeah, this was what Tom deserved.
Nora went back to picking.
If someone was going to find the perfect partner, she’d rather it be Tom than almost anyone she could think of. Funny, she thought, how she began by resenting him, fearing him a little, pretty sure he didn’t like her. Then she was sure that he felt stuck with her. But it hadn’t taken too long for her to appreciate him, admire him. It probably started with him treating her minor injuries with such gentle understanding, then driving her to and from work. But he really scored when he brought her a sandwich and held her as she cried.
She’d had a small fantasy that she knew was idiotic, that she would never reveal to a soul, that after she’d gotten on her feet a little, after she’d proven she wasn’t such a pathetic loser, that Tom might gradually develop an interest in her. She knew it couldn’t happen fast, that it was really far-fetched, but hard times couldn’t kill all her fantasies.
That was before she caught a glimpse of the perfect woman, of course.
A while later she happened to see Tom wrangling the woman’s bags up the porch steps…her designer luggage. Now this just tears it, she thought. She had no idea which designer, but she knew—those cost a fortune. Plus, if Nora were visiting for a weekend, she’d be able to get by with a backpack. There were matching large, medium and small bags plus a rather large briefcase. Wow. She must be very important in addition to being beautiful.
She sighed. Besides secretly fantasizing about a man like Tom in her life, she also saw herself sitting at that kitchen table in a bathrobe, reading the paper, waiting for her daughters to wake up in the morning. And she saw herself cooking, baking, canning and working a little in the orchard. She wondered if Maxie kept a summer vegetable garden; Nora would if she could. But by far the most delicious fantasy she had was sitting on that porch, watching the sun set over the orchard and mountains. The beautiful, lush, full and ripe orchard.
After unloading her last big bag of apples, Nora grabbed the satchel in which she carried lunch and water and headed down the long drive to the road. She let herself out and closed the gate. She usually waited for Tom by the barn, but there seemed no question that today he was a little busy.
Never mind her silly, juvenile dreaming, when she tried to picture a woman Tom would find his perfect mate, she was a lot homier-looking than the red-Caddy blonde. Nora thought it might be a requirement that his woman could bake an apple pie to rival Maxie’s. Oh, stop, she told herself harshly. There was no reason to think that magnificent creature couldn’t bake a perfect pie. After all, Nora couldn’t bake at all!
She heard the horn of the truck give three short blasts and she stopped and turned. She expected to give him a wave as he passed by, but he stopped. “No way,” she said to herself.
“What are you doing?” he asked through the open window.
“I’m going home,” she said. “Tom, you have company.”
He laughed. “She’s unpacking a few things. It looks like it could take several hours. I have time to take you home and get a shower and shave before dinner. Jump in.”
She climbed up into the big truck. “You’re so ridiculous! You could be doing something much more interesting—like helping her unpack.”
“I thought you understood I was committed to getting you home,” he said, laughing.
“I’m so grateful—but on days some totally classy blonde doesn’t bring her entire wardrobe for a weekend with you. This need to drive me verges on obsession.”
“It does kind of look like it could be her whole wardrobe, doesn’t it? When you think about it, I could put every piece of clothing I own in a duffel. Did you happen to see how many suitcases for two nights?”
“Not on purpose,” she said, and when her cheeks colored he laughed at her. “It was kind of right in my line of vision. But oh, my.” She sighed.
“What?”
“She’s so magnificent!”
“She’s pretty, I’ll give you that…”
“Tom, I picked a few pretty apples today—that woman is out of this world. Have you known her long?”
He shook his head. “One of my guys was married to her. He was killed in Afghanistan and I paid her a visit on my way back to Virgin River…to be sure she was holding up all right. At that time she was still trying to get back on her feet. She’s a lot better now and happens to be taking a class at UC Davis, so she came up for a visit.”
“Oh, my God, I thought she was your girlfriend!”
“That’s still possible, I guess. Her name is Darla and there’s nothing about her not to like. I agree with the pretty, the classy and she’s very nice and smart. But she sure doesn’t travel light!”
Nora couldn’t help it, she laughed hard. “You better look out. She looks expensive.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” he agreed. “I told her to bring a pair of nice pants and boots in case we went to the coast for dinner.” He shrugged. “I guess she had a hard time deciding.”
“Seriously, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure she’d be beautiful in a sack, but Tom—those red boots.” She put a hand to her chest, let her eyes drop closed and her head tilt back.
“What?” Tom said.
She looked at him in shock. “What? Tom, red boots are like the top of the mountain, the epitome.”
“They are?”
She turned slightly toward him. “If you can actually afford beautiful high-heeled leather boots, you get black, to go with everything. You only get red because you already have black and you want something indulgent
,
magnificent. Astonishing.”
“Really?” he asked. “And you know this how?”
“Tom,” she said with some impatience. “Red is special. You only have red for important things, because red doesn’t go with everything. Black goes with everything so to be practical, you buy black.”
He just shook his head. “Amazing, the stuff a guy can live without understanding… And did you have red boots?”
“Like those? Oh, please! I think a handful of women on earth have boots like those. I don’t know who the designer is, but the soles were shiny black. They were like art. But hey, I had red patent leather pumps once, when I was fifteen, for a special high school dance…”
“There you go…”
“That I went to with my
girlfriend,
” she finished, laughing. “Trust me, I’ve never been in the red leather boot league!”
When he pulled into Virgin River he became a bit more solemn. “Listen, there’s another reason I drove you besides my devoted friendship. We’ve been having some wildlife issues.”
“I saw you fixing the fence again.”
“Three times in a month. Seriously, we don’t usually get the fence broken down. No one has seen our pest, but I suspect a bear that was pestering one of our neighbors. I caught sight of her in the orchard earlier in summer—eating green apples. She has triplets, and by now they’re getting pretty big. She must be coming in early morning or evening. At least she isn’t bothering the orchard while we’re working. But I’m getting mighty sick of repairing the goddamn fence.”
“How can you be sure it’s a bear?”
“Deer won’t break down a fence—they’ll try to reach over it for the fruit. Mountain lions are carnivores—they’re not interested in apples. They’re interested in meat—the flesh of any animal they can catch.”
“Oh,” she said. “Feeling so much better now that I know that.”
“They almost never attack a human that doesn’t have them cornered.”
“Way to comfort, Tom,” she said.
“I think the bear and her cubs are climbing the fence to get over and breaking it down in the process and I’ll be damned if I’ll build a brick wall to keep them out. I’ll sit up in a tree and shoot her first.”
“Hey, I’m not going to lobby for her safety. I’m just thinking—are we talking lost apples or lost lives here?”
“I’m thinking broken fences,” he said. “But there’s a danger of running into her or the cubs and being attacked because you posed a threat.”
“How could someone like me pose a threat to anything?” she asked.
He scraped off his cap and ran a hand over his head. “It’s not logical, Nora. It’s wildlife, trying to protect their young and their turf. She recently took a swipe at a guy who was too close and he was laying facedown, playing dead. Hurt him pretty bad.”
She gave her chin a resolute drop and said, “Yep, the bear has to go. Good luck with that.”
“I’ll be here Monday morning. Don’t walk. Are we on the same page here?”
“Of course,” she said. He pulled up to her house and she grabbed the door. As she was exiting, she grinned devilishly. “Have fun with those boots.”
“Get out, you little hussy.”
“Hey! I think it’s against the law for a boss to call an employee a hussy!”
He leaned toward her. “Sue me.”