The Orchard at the Edge of Town (6 page)

“That's right.”

“I'm thinking of hiring him, but I wanted to get a few references first.” She pulled the blanket off the box, revealing two little black-and-white kittens and a big ugly gray one.

“They are so cute!” Evie squealed. “Aren't they cute, Rori?!”

Rori nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. Which was more than she usually did when strangers were present. One of her teachers had suggested she suffered from social anxiety and told Simon that the then six-year-old needed medication and therapy.

Simon had suggested the woman get a life.

That hadn't gone over very well.

“Can I pet them, Daddy?” Evie begged. “Please?”

“Why don't you both go get them some water first?” he suggested.

The girls bounced into the house, slamming the door behind them. Of course.

“Cute kids,” Apricot said as she nudged the gray kitten into the box. It jumped out and clawed its way up her arm, perching in the little hollow near her ear.

“I think so.” He lifted one of the little black-and-white puffballs from the box and eyed it. “But I'm not going to let them talk me into one of these.”

“Of course you aren't,” she agreed. Again.

“You're not going to win this with reverse psychology, Apricot.”

She didn't correct him on the name, just smiled that pretty smile of hers. “Like I said, I'm here about Jet. He wants to replace the siding on Rose's house. I'm trying to decide if he's the guy for the job. He gave me your name and the sheriff's as references. I've already spoken with Cade. He seemed really enthusiastic about Jet's work.”

“I'm not surprised. Jet is a great kid. I'd recommend him to anyone.”

“Being a great kid is nice, Simon, but I'm more interested in the kind of work he does. I can give him some odd jobs that don't require a high level of skill or I can let him hang new siding and replace the gingerbread trim on the porch. It just depends on the work he's done here.” She'd gone from sweet smile to all business, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd taken an iPad out of her purse and started taking notes.

“He replaced my roof two months ago. Replaced and reframed my windows. So far, no leaks,” he offered. “Took him about four days, and he cleaned up his mess when he finished. I'd say it would take longer to side the Shaffer place.”

She nodded. “I'd say so. He hasn't given me a time frame, and I didn't ask, but if he works alone, we're probably talking a few weeks.”

“He does most of the work alone, but he did have a guy helping with the roof. An older guy who works for a company in Spokane and does freelance work when he has time.”

“Hmm. I guess that means paying two for the job?”

“No. I paid a set fee and Jet paid his friend. No fuss or muss. No trouble. No complaints from the freelancer. If you hire Jet, you're going to have to buy the supplies. He doesn't have cash in hand to do that.” That hadn't bothered Simon. He'd already purchased everything he needed to do the job. He just hadn't had time to do it. With fall closing in and winter right around the corner, he'd needed to get the work done. Even if he'd been willing to wait, his hundred-year-old home hadn't been.

“That's not a problem. As long as he's able to tell me what I need.”

“He gave me an itemized list along with reasonable prices for supplies. Want to take a look at the work he did?”

“Sure.” She stood, box in hand. “As long as I can bring the kittens in. Handsome keeps escaping the box, and I don't want him to get run over.”

“Handsome?” He opened the screen door, touched her shoulder to urge her in ahead of him. Got a quick swat from the ugly gray kitten as a thank-you.

“This guy.” She dragged the gray kitten off her shoulder and set him in the box. “He's trouble.”

“You think you're going to find him a home?”

“Someone will feel sorry for him and take him in. I hope.”

“Hope is nothing to hang your hat on,” he responded, smiling as she laughed.

“I guess you're right about that, but don't worry. I have a plan B.”

“Yeah?”

“If no one will take him, I'll bring him to the . . .”

The girls barreled into the foyer, each of them carrying a bowl of water.

“Shelter,” Apricot finished.

“No!” Evie shouted. “You're not taking them to the shelter! You can't. Aunt Daisy says they kill animals there.”

Apricot met Simon's eyes, mouthed
I'm sorry
. Then smiled at Evie. “Don't worry. I'm sure I'll find them all good homes.”

“If you don't, you have to keep them,” Evie insisted. “It's the only right thing to do.”

“Not if I don't have time for them. That wouldn't be fair to the kittens,” Apricot responded. “But, like I said, I'm sure I can find them all good homes.”

“But—”

“That's enough, Evangeline,” he cut in, knowing his daughter would continue to press her point. At eight, she insisted she wanted to be a veterinarian. Simon was convinced she'd grow up to become an attorney. “How about you girls bring the kittens into the kitchen and give them the water there? I need to show Apricot—”

“Your name is Apricot?” Rori gasped, her dark chocolate eyes wide, some of her natural shyness disappearing in the face of the wonder of Apricot's name.

“Yes, but most of my friends call me Anna.”

“But Apricot is such a pretty name. Like a fairy-tale princess name,” Rori breathed, and Simon could see all the little-girl dreams in her eyes.

“Rori,” he began, wanting to stop his daughter before she got too caught up in the fantasy. “She's not a fairy-tale princess. She's just—”

“Very flattered that you like my name,” Apricot broke in with a gentle smile. “I never thought of it as all that special, but I think after today, I will. Give your sister the water, and I'll hand you the kitten box. You'll be careful with them, right?”

“Yes.” Rori nodded solemnly. No overflowing enthusiasm, no jumping and squealing. She was the quiet twin, the one Simon worried about most, because her feelings were so close to the surface and so easily hurt.

Too bad he couldn't put her in a bubble and keep her there, safe from all the meanness in the world.

She handed the water to her sister, who took it without protest.

A minor miracle considering the kid always wanted to be in charge.

Like Rori, she seemed to have fallen under Apricot's spell, her big brown eyes wide with wonder as Apricot handed over the kitten box.

“Is your hair real or is it the clip-on stuff that my first-grade teacher wore at her wedding?”

“What kind of question is that?” Simon asked.

“One I want an answer to. I've never seen a grown woman with hair as long as hers.” Evie didn't seem at all apologetic. “And are those your real boobs? Jackson Anderson at school says most women have fake ones. I told him that only women in magazines have them, and he told me I was stupid.”

“Enough!” Simon commanded.

What kind of school was he sending his kids to, if that was the kind of conversation they were having?!

“But, Daddy,” Evie said. “It's a reasonable question, and I just want a reasonable answer. I'm going to be a woman one day, and I have to know these things.”

Apricot laughed, and Simon would have laughed too, if it had been anyone else's daughter making the pronouncement.

“You're eight,” he muttered. “You should be worried about bedtime and lunch boxes.”

“Jackson says—”

“How about we discuss Jackson and his opinions later?” he cut in. “The kittens are thirsty and they're probably hungry too. Take them into the kitchen and feed them some of that food Aunt Daisy keeps here for Sweetums.”

“Sweetums?” Apricot asked as the girls walked away.

“The cat from hell. I think she got him from a breeder who charges an arm and a leg for squashfaced kittens with bad attitudes.”

She laughed, following him into the living room, the scent of summer sunshine filling the air as she moved. “I'm getting the impression you're not Sweetums's biggest fan.”

“He scratched up my favorite recliner. I had a friend reupholster it, and he clawed it up again.”

“Is that the recliner?” She gestured to the chair he'd bought a few months after he and the girls had moved in. The sides of the chair looked like they'd been put through a giant paper shredder.

“How'd you guess?” he asked drily.

“I'm not always as clueless as I was the day I accepted my ex's proposal,” she responded with a smile that made her eyes sparkle.

“You've got an awfully good attitude for a woman who was—” He stopped short of saying what had popped into his head. No sense rubbing salt in an open wound.

“Jilted?” She finished for him. “I told you. I wasn't. I was left waiting. For a long time.”

“And?”

“I decided I didn't want to wait any longer. He showed up right around the time I was telling my family the wedding was off.”

There was probably more to the story, but he didn't ask and she didn't tell. That would be a little too much like getting to know each other, and Simon didn't think either of them wanted to do that.

“Is this one of the windows Jet replaced?” she asked, crouching in front of the double-pane glass and touching the oak framing.

“Yes.” He crouched beside her. “He used wood from an old house that had been demolished, and cut molds to match the frames that weren't dry-rotted.

“It's gorgeous,” she murmured, running long fingers over the smooth wood. Her nails were unvarnished and short, her face makeup-free, a few long strands of hair escaping her ponytail.

She didn't look high maintenance, but her wedding dress sure had been. If he'd based his assessment of Apricot's nature on that, he'd say she was the kind of woman who liked fine dining and spa treatments, who liked fancy furniture and expensive jewelry. The kind of woman who wouldn't blink an eye at spending thousands of dollars on a dress she was only going to wear one day.

He and Megan had argued about that.

Funny how he was just now remembering.

Two weeks after they'd gotten engaged, Megan had told him her grandparents had put aside five thousand dollars for the dress. He'd suggested she spend half that and they could use the rest for a down payment on a house. She hadn't liked the idea. She hadn't even liked that he'd had it. It had been their first big argument, and he thought it had surprised both of them. In the end, she'd had her fancy dress, and they'd lived in an apartment for the first two years they were married. He hadn't minded all that much. He'd loved Megan, would have lived in a hovel with her if that's what they'd had to do to be together.

“How many windows and frames did he put in?” Apricot asked, pulling him from the memory.

“All the windows were replaced. He rebuilt the frames in here and in the kitchen.” He glanced toward the dining room. The girls were being very, very quiet. “I can take you in there.”

“If they look as good as these, there's no need.” She brushed the stray hair off her face, tucked it back into the ponytail holder, the gesture unconsciously feminine and much more appealing than Simon wanted it to be.

Time to get her out of the house, because his mind was heading places it shouldn't be going unless he wanted to get himself involved in something that would take way more time than he had.

He straightened, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “In that case, I'll walk you to the door.”

“Am I being kicked to the curb, Simon?” she asked with a grin that made him notice the deep blue of her eyes and the freckles on her cheeks.

“Just out the front door,” he responded. “I have to feed the girls dinner.”

“Much as I'd like to allow myself to be kicked out
without
the kittens, leaving them with you seems like the wrong thing to do.”

The kittens. Right. He'd almost forgotten. Something about looking in her eyes was messing with his brain!

“Girls!” he called. “Apricot has to leave.”

They came running into the room, the box wrapped in a bright pink blanket and cradled between them.

“Quiet, Daddy,” Evie said solemnly. “They're sound asleep.”

“Must be their full tummies getting the best of them,” Apricot whispered, taking the box from the girls. “Thank you for taking good care of them.”

The girls followed her onto the porch and watched wide-eyed as she put the box in the passenger seat of her old truck and took off.

“Is she a princess, Daddy?” Rori asked, tugging at his hand and pulling his attention away from the retreating truck.

“Of course not,” he responded, bending so they were eye to eye. “You know that princesses are only for fairy tales.”

“That isn't true, Daddy,” Evie argued. “There are princesses in Europe and in Africa and—”

“How about we get dressed and go get chicken nuggets at the diner?” he said, cutting into what was destined to be a very long debate with his daughter. “We can discuss princesses there.”

“The diner!” the girls squealed in unison. “Yay!”

“First we have to get water. We're thirsty. Aren't we thirsty, Rori?” Evie asked, grabbing her sister's hand and tugging her inside. He followed more slowly, glancing over his shoulder and calling himself every sort of fool because what he was looking for, what he was hoping to see, was one last glimpse of Apricot's truck as she drove away.