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.”

Chapter Seven

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.”