She backed away, her hand covering her mouth, shaking like a leaf. With her back against the trunk, she slid weakly to the ground. “It’s okay now,” he said. “The cubs won’t bother us.”

She just put her hands over her face and sobbed. “God, oh, God,” she kept saying.

He heard some distant sounds—Junior’s truck, the slamming of the porch door, talking. Positioning himself so he could keep an eye on the mother bear to be sure she didn’t rally, he put his rifle on the ground and knelt beside Nora. He gently pulled her hands away from her face. “It’s all right now. It’s over.”

“I was on the ladder,” she said, her voice shaking. “I came nose-to-nose with a bear!”

“I figured. And the mother?”

“Back in there. I screamed and fell off the ladder and she came through those trees.”

“And you threw apples at her?” he asked.

She nodded. “I was going to hold her off with the ladder.”

A small huff of laughter escaped him. He put a finger under her chin and lifted, giving her a small kiss. “You scared me to death,” he said.

“Join the club,” she said, a hiccup in her voice.

“Why didn’t you come to the house when you got here?”

She gave a little shrug and looked down. “Red Caddy,” she said softly.

Tom noticed Junior out of the corner of his eye, rifle in hand and pointed down, giving the dead bear a kick to see if she moved. The action caused the cub to skitter away. The ground was getting soaked with blood—that bear was done. He looked at Nora. “Yeah, that. I didn’t know she was coming.”

“You didn’t invite her?” she asked.

“I told her I was going hunting. I didn’t know it was true. Remind me to tell you some important lessons about lies.” Then he swiveled toward Junior and said, “We have three cubs to round up.”

“They were here all night,” Junior said.

“Most likely.” Then he swiveled back to Nora, ignoring Junior. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked softly.

“Eventually…”

He leaned toward her and kissed her again, this time a little more deeply. She put a hand against his bare chest and against his lips she whispered, “You must be freezing.”

“Ha. Not hardly. Is steam coming off me?”

She massaged his chest a bit with one hand, right over a tattoo. “I’ve never been so scared.”

“Come on,” he said, standing and pulling her up. When she was on her feet he pulled her against him for a moment, just holding her. He kissed the top of her head. As he finally let her go, he kept an arm around her shoulders, holding her close against his side, and said, “Let’s get you to the house. Then I have to help Junior with these cubs.”

When he turned he saw not only Maxie standing behind him, Duke at her side, but also Darla. And Darla had a horrified look on her face, but she wasn’t gazing at the dead bear. She was looking at Tom and Nora. And as she met Tom’s eyes, she lifted her chin indignantly and whirled away, marching fast toward the house.

Nora looked up at him. “I think I’d rather go to the office. Or maybe just home. Is there workman’s comp for bear scares?”

“Let me take you to the kitchen. Maxie will make you some tea or something, make sure you stop shaking before you go home.”

“I don’t feel like tangling with Darla. She looked pretty pissed.”

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I don’t feel like tangling with her, either, but it has to be done.”

“Good, you do it,” she said, pulling away. “I’m going home to hug my children. I came a little too close to orphaning them.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Thank you—you were pretty magnificent. That bear was going to eat me.”

“I spent half the night looking for that damn bear and her cubs. Darla showed up just after dark and she didn’t close the gate. Duke let us know there was a bear.”

She gave his n**ed chest a pat. “Well, I’m sure she’s very upset. You better go see if she’s all right. I’m going home.” And she walked down the lane to her car, parked by the barn. “Good luck,” she said to him, giving him a wave.

* * *

Tom grabbed a shirt and jacket and went to help Junior round up the cubs, which turned out more like a game for all the orchard workers as they were on the run. The men carried rakes and shovels to try to direct the cubs into a corner where they would be trapped. The gate remained closed so they wouldn’t escape into the forest; they were probably mature enough to survive, but it would be better if an expert made that decision. A couple of hours later someone from Fish and Game arrived with a flatbed attached to a big truck to take away the bear carcass; an hour after that, animal control arrived to transport the cubs to a holding facility.

All this time there was no sign of Darla and the red Caddy remained parked at the back of the house. He stood outside his office staring at that damn car. It would probably have been best if she’d gotten angry enough to leave while he was playing tag with cubs because there was little doubt in his mind she was going to be angry enough to leave after they talked.

“Girl trouble?” Junior asked him.

“What makes you say that?” Tom returned.

“Well, one charged out of here after a bear nearly ate her and in case you think no one was paying attention, she wouldn’t go in the house because the other one was in there. And the other one is still in there and you keep looking at that car like you wish it would disappear.”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Tom said.

Junior scratched his head. “I ain’t that smart. I’m divorced.” Then he turned back to the barn.

Tom took a breath and headed for the house. Maxie was in the kitchen, as usual. She was pouring a pot of soup into a large container.

“Where is she?” Tom asked quietly.

“In her room. Pouting.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of this.”

“I’m leaving,” Maxie said. “I’m going into town to check on Nora, bring her some soup. I’m going to stay gone for at least a couple of hours. I’d be very happy if the drama could be over when I get home.”

“It will be,” Tom said. But he was thinking, Why the hell can’t someone just shoot me?

Chapter Nineteen

Tom tapped on Darla’s door. She bade him enter and when he opened the door, he did not see what he had hoped to see—packed luggage ready to go. Nope, she was still settled in. And she was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him.

“I don’t really know where to start…” he said.

“Let me help you,” she returned rather curtly. “You begin with an apology. And what is that smell?” He ignored the apology part and felt his neck prickling and getting red. He had a sudden curiosity—just how many times had she tricked men into marrying her? Was there any chance Bob hadn’t been the first one? But then he realized, he couldn’t possibly care less. “The smell is sweat, dirt and bear.”

“Maybe we should talk after you’ve had a chance to shower.”

“No, we’re going to talk right now, Darla. We, you and I, aren’t going any further. We don’t fit. It wouldn’t work. It’s not what I want.”

“It’s a bit more than that,” she said, standing but keeping her distance as she wrinkled her nose. “There’s another woman in the picture. You were cheating on me with one of your employees.”

“That’s the thing, I wasn’t cheating on you because I haven’t made any kind of commitment to you, not even a slight, tiny, superficial commitment. None. At all. And you and I are not dating, not seeing each other, not getting more serious. We don’t want the same things, we’re never going to want the same things and I’m tired of this cat and mouse.”

“Then why did you lead me on?”

“Lead you on?” He frowned. “How did I do that?”

“You kissed me! You took me to dinner. You told me to visit any time I wanted to.”

“Aw, Jesus—when you first showed up here, I was open to the idea of dating a beautiful woman, so sue me. I checked you out while you were checking me out—but it never got off the ground. Darla, it worked for about a day. It isn’t working. We don’t even like the same things!”

“I’m willing to give you another chance,” she said. “Obviously you have to get rid of that female.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, laughing in spite of himself. “Does that usually work for you? That non-listening thing you’ve got going on? I don’t want another chance. I want us to part friends with the realization that we would have to have a lot more in common and like each other equally in order for there to be any kind of relationship beyond a very casual and very distant friendship. Apparently I don’t have enough ‘like’ in this equation because I’m not interested. No more dates, no more visits, no more talking about a future that is never going to happen.”

“Well,” she said, a tear coming to her eye. Tom suspected they were very well-trained tears. “That was blunt to the point of cruel.”

“That’s how it has to be, apparently. If you could let it go at I’m not interested, we could shake hands and say a pleasant goodbye.”

She seemed to shake a bit, like anger was coming to the surface. “What the hell kind of woman do you want?”

Big mistake, Darla, he thought. Big. “I want a woman who pitches in,” he said. “A woman who doesn’t sit and expect to be waited on while a seventy-four-year-old grandmother cooks and cleans and serves her. I want a woman who can pet the dog even if he gets a little hair on her expensive clothes. Someone who can feel special wearing boots that cost far less than a grand and I want a woman who eats, for God’s sake! How about a woman who isn’t trying to sell my family orchard out from under me and put my grandmother in a home? That would work.”

She was stunned silent for a second. Finally she said, “Oh. My. God!”

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “I’m going to shower while you gather your things together. Then I’ll carry all your luggage to your car for the last time, shake your hand or even give you a polite hug as I say, ‘Nice seeing you, drive safely.’ And then you’re going to leave and we’re both going to get on with our lives. Is there any part of that you don’t understand?”

Another moment of silence. Then, “You are a beast. I had no idea. I barely escaped you!”

“I’ll be about fifteen minutes,” he said. “You take your time.” And he left her.

As he showered, he thought one alternative for her, if she wanted to make a dramatic exit, was to throw her stuff in a suitcase, lug her own damn luggage down the stairs and burn rubber out of the orchard. Junior was on hand to make sure the gate would be closed behind her.

In the end, it didn’t happen that way, of course. Forty-five minutes later she found him in the kitchen and, true to form, all she carried was her small pocketbook. “I’m ready,” she said soberly.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll be happy to get your luggage.”

As he loaded the last of the luggage into her trunk, he saw Junior near the barn and gave him a sign, pointing to the gate. Junior took his quad down the lane and opened it. Then Tom held the door for her as she got into her shiny car. He held out his hand and she took it.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Tom,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t fit into your plans. I’m very disappointed, in fact.”