by Kat Brookes
She dragged her gaze back up to meet his. “Mason...”
“Dreams change, Lila. While I admit there was a time when I truly considered following in my daddy’s footsteps, a man whose dedication to the Lord and his congregation, even his family, was given wholeheartedly, I came to the realization in college that his calling was not the same as mine.” He motioned toward the fruit-laden trees beside them. “Mine was to work this land. To carry on what my granddaddy started here all those years ago. I ended up switching my major from theology to business and have focused on growing the family orchard and market sale ever since. Although I still devote some of my time to going on mission trips in honor of Daddy.”
“I’m glad you’re doing what makes you happy,” she told him, her gaze moving in the direction of the fruit trees. “It looks like you made the right decision. The orchard looks more bountiful than I remember.”
“It is,” he replied. “We updated the irrigation system, and Jake and I have been testing out a newer fertilizer. The crops have been responding well to it.”
“I’ll bet your momma is beyond thrilled to have even more peaches to do wondrous things with.” She grew serious. “How is she doing?”
The pain of his father’s loss still cut deep for him. He remembered how hard it had been to deal with the grief—without Lila. He could have turned to his family, but they’d had enough of their own hurt heaped onto their emotional plates without him adding to it. He’d gotten through it. As his mother liked to point out, the Landerses were made of strong Southern stock. They could get through anything.
“She stays busy,” he answered, grateful that his mother had the family fruit market and bakery to keep her occupied.
“Addy said you renovated the market.”
“We did,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I drew up plans, and then Jake and I added on to the building, opening it up into one large commercial area to sell peaches and baked goods.”
Mason had always had a gift for creating ideas on paper. “It sounds so nice. I’m sure your momma loves it.”
“She does. The new layout makes it easier for her to check customers out at one register rather than running back and forth from the market to the bakery when Violet isn’t able to help out.” The Perfect Peach was twice the size it had once been, his mother’s pride and joy, and boasted a large selection of related items, such as lotions with peach extract, scented candles, T-shirts—you name it.
“I’m glad she has you all to lean on.”
You could have had me to lean on, too, he thought bitterly. “That’s what families do,” he said, then regretted his comment when he saw the sadness that filled her pretty bright blue eyes. Lila had never had a family of her own. Mrs. Tully had been the closest thing she’d ever had. Even after moving to Sweet Springs, Lila had still clung to hope that her mother and father would get the help they needed that would allow them to finally be a real family. When they’d died, it had broken her emotionally.
And it had been his efforts to draw her back from that dark place, his need to comfort her and take away the pain, that had drawn them both down the wrong path. Not that he hadn’t loved Lila—he had—but they should have been older. They should have been married.
Her wounded gaze strayed to the house and then back to him, this time not quite meeting his. “I should go get the rest of my things. It was nice seeing you again.” She started past him in the direction of what must have been her Jeep.
“Do you really think staying here is a good idea?”
Lila stopped and turned to look at him. “I know you’d probably prefer otherwise, but I need to be here. Even more so when Mama Tully comes home, which I hope will be very soon.”
“Her doctor says it could be another week or longer,” he explained. His mother had been visiting Mrs. Tully that morning when her doctor came in to check on her. Peritonitis had set in after her appendix burst, requiring not only the removal of the organ but also to eliminate the infection and avoid sepsis, meaning an even longer recovery time.
“Well, that will give me plenty of time to see to it that Mama Tully’s house is in tip-top shape before she gets home. She’s going to need to rest and not fuss over sweeping and dusting and whatnot. Oh, and I’ll need to tend to her vegetable garden. And—”
“That’s my job,” he cut in.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Excuse me?”
“I take it Mrs. Tully didn’t think to mention that I’m looking after her place while she’s in the hospital?”
“If she had, I wouldn’t have been so shocked to see you,” she pointed out. “If you recall, I thought you were out of the country. Actually, she never mentioned any names, just that the dogs were being cared for until I could get here to look after them.”
“I recall,” he replied. “You’re welcome to do any housekeeping you think needs done, and take over with Honey and Grits, but I’ll be seeing to the yardwork and garden as promised. Which, of course, means we’re bound to cross paths if you plan on staying here. Are you going to be okay with that?”
She hesitated at that and then said, “I’m sure Mama Tully appreciates the help you’ve been able to give her, but I’m perfectly capable of mowing her grass and weeding her vegetable garden as well while I’m staying here.”
Oh, how the set of her jaw brought back memories of the Lila who had first come to live in Sweet Springs. They’d met in the summer in his family orchard. He’d been out walking and had come across Lila sitting beneath one of the peach trees, writing in her journal. She’d been defensive, stubborn, with emotional walls that were sky-high. She’d let down her guard around him over time, trusting him, confiding in him. Yet, she had always remained determined not to let anyone else do something for her she could do for herself.
That apparently hadn’t altered any. Not that he planned to try. The less interaction he had with her, the better, as far as he was concerned. She could see to her commitments to Mrs. Tully and he would see to his. Or Lila could make the whole situation far less complicated and go back to wherever it was she’d come from. He and his family could see to Mrs. Tully when she came home. Even as that option settled in his mind, another part of him—his contrary heart, to be precise—jumped for joy inside his chest at the thought of Lila sticking around.
“Until I hear differently from Mrs. Tully, I’ll still be stopping by to see to the responsibilities I’ve taken on here.”
“Mason,” she pleaded.
“Lila,” he countered evenly. He wondered whatever he could be thinking, falling into this battle of wills with Lila.
“Fine,” Lila said before he could reconsider his stance on the matter and relinquish responsibility to her. “You take care of the grounds, and I’ll see to the pups. I think it would be best, however, if we set a scheduled time for you to come by. Or you could call before stopping by.”
“If that will help you sleep at night,” he countered with a nonchalant shrug, as if her wanting to be anywhere but where he was didn’t jab at a part of his heart he’d thought permanently numbed. “Jake and I usually make our rounds through the orchards in the mornings, sometimes into the first part of the afternoon. I’ll do my best to stop by here, say, at three or four every afternoon. Feel free to go into town or stay in the house while I’m here. It makes no difference to me.” It was probably for the best he hadn’t gone into preaching, because that was far from true.
“That works for us,” Lila muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to finish unpacking the car.”
“Us?” His gaze shifted immediately to the old Victorian. Someone had come with her? A husband? The second that possibility arose in his mind, he felt an even stronger stirring of emotion. Jealousy? The last thing he should be feeling, considering Lila was not his girl. Hadn’t been for nearly a decade. She wasn’t even a girl anymore. She was a woman. A stranger behind that beautiful face he’d
never forgotten. Lord knew, he wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with any of this. But deal with it he would. Maybe once he’d had time to let things sink in, time to work through the maelstrom of emotions seeing Lila again had stirred up inside him, he’d be better prepared to cope.
“Us,” she repeated, casting an anxious glance toward the old house. “I was referring to the dogs and myself.”
He exhaled the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, then muttered with a frown, “Well, then, I’d best make myself scarce.” Turning away, he started into the orchard, pausing to glance back over his shoulder at her. “Just so you know, I could have been happy with you.” That said, he walked away.
Chapter Two
Lila poked her head into the hospital room the next day, only to discover Mama Tully sleeping peacefully. Blessedly, no pain was etched into the older woman’s still youthful, though slightly pale, face. Her heart swelled with happiness at seeing her beloved foster mother again after so many years. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell her. So much she could never share. There would be time for all of that once Mama Tully was well. For now, she needed to rest.
“She’s sleeping.” Lila turned to whisper to her son.
Finn, who had been standing behind her, peered around Lila, his gaze going first to Mama Tully and then to the monitor positioned next to her hospital bed with all its flashing lights and numbers. With an unexpected sob, he backed out of the room and darted down the hallway.
Lila hurried after him, calling out his name. She found him standing at the end of the corridor, peering out of the oversize window that looked out over the parking lot outside. He clenched the picture he’d drawn for Mama Tully tightly in his tiny hand. She closed the distance between them. “Sweetie...”
He looked back over his shoulder, unshed tears looming in his dark brown eyes. Mason’s eyes.
She knelt in front of him and reached out to cup his cheek. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want Gramma Tully to die before she gets to meet me.”
Her heart squeezed at the fear she heard in her son’s voice. Although Finn had spoken to Mama Tully over the phone many times since Lila finally told her foster mother that she had a son, they had never met in person. Mama Tully never left Sweet Springs, and Lila had told her she couldn’t bring herself to face the past she’d left behind. It was the truth. Mama Tully had opened her always loving heart up to Finn. Had even insisted that he call her Gramma Tully. Lila had also sent Mama Tully pictures of her and Finn, mostly faraway shots to lessen the chance of her foster mother discovering out the truth.
So they’d settled for keeping up with each other’s lives through phone calls. Another blessing was that Mama Tully was not a fan of technology. Had she been, there was a chance she would have wanted to video chat with Finn and realized who the boy’s father was.
“She’s not going to die,” Lila assured her son. She couldn’t. Mama Tully was far too young, far too kind, to be taken away in the prime of her life. Surely that wasn’t in God’s plan for her, or He wouldn’t have given Lila a second chance. She prayed not. There were too many emotional fences she needed to mend. And her adorably affectionate dogs needed her, as Lila and Addy had once needed their emotional rock when no one else wanted to care for them. “She’s just tired,” she told him with a tender smile.
His gaze drifted past her down the hallway and then back to Lila, a deep frown etched in his face. “I don’t like all those machines.”
“I know they might seem a little scary at first, but they are there to help the patients who are staying here get better,” she explained. Her son had never been in a hospital room before, so his trepidation was understandable. They’d only gone as far as the nurses’ station the day before when they were told Mama Tully was sleeping, and Lila had decided it was best to wait to see her, not wanting to interrupt her rest. She wished that she had thought to prepare Finn better, but her thoughts had been all in a tangle over her unexpected run-in with Mason the evening before. It had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done, and she’d experienced more than enough heartache in her lifetime.
Straightening, she held out her hand with a smile. “Are we going back to Gramma Tully’s house?” her son asked as he took hold of it.
She shook her head. “No. I would imagine she’s just taking a short nap. We’ll just sit quietly until she wakes,” she told him as they made their way back to Mama Tully’s hospital room. “Maybe you can draw her another picture while we wait.”
“Okay,” Finn murmured, slightly distracted by all the commotion going on around them. Nurses scurrying in and out of doorways. The sound of medical equipment beeping in the nearby rooms as it filtered out into the narrow corridor. The occasional announcement made on the PA system echoed along the hallway.
This time, when they entered the room, Finn following behind her, Mama Tully was awake, sitting nearly upright, her back and head propped against a pillow.
“As I live and breathe, Lila!” she exclaimed the moment she saw her in the doorway. Her voice, though slightly hoarse from sleep, was filled with more exuberance than Lila would have expected possible.
“Mama Tully!” she exclaimed, joy squeezing her heart as she crossed the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me.”
The older woman laughed, and then said with a teasing grin, “They removed my appendix. Not my memory. I’d know that pretty face anywhere.” She opened her arms wide in welcome.
Lila leaned in over the side of the hospital bed to return the offered hug. Then she straightened, looking down at her foster mother with tear-blurred eyes. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
Mama Tully smiled up at her. “I’m a tough old bird. Takes more than an ornery appendix and a little infection to keep me down.”
At just over fifty years old, she was hardly an old bird. But she was tough. Mama Tully had survived the loss of her husband at a very young age, had singlehandedly taken on the raising of two young, somewhat troubled foster girls and had built a life for herself. Thankfully, her husband, a few years older than Mama Tully, had thought to invest in life insurance, which included a policy that paid off the house should he pass away. She’d also received a small monthly income during her years as a foster parent, which she put toward Lila’s and Addy’s needs before placing the rest in the bank for, in her words, a rainy day.
Lila returned her smile and then turned to her son, who stood a few feet behind her. “It’s all right, sweetie,” she assured him once more and then motioned for him to join them. “Come on over and say hello.”
Mama Tully was visibly unable to contain her joy when Finn stepped forward to greet her with a “Hello, Gramma Tully. I’m Finn.”
“Hello, Finn,” Mama Tully said, her voice choked. “I don’t suppose you might have brought a hug for me.”
He glanced down at the IV taped to the back of Mama Tully’s hand, worry creasing his tiny brow.
“This is how they give me some of my medicines,” she explained. “We just have to be careful this tube doesn’t get pulled on too hard.”
He frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Bless your heart,” she said, her expression tender. “You’re not going to hurt me. They have this little tube taped onto my hand very securely.”
Lila was grateful Mama Tully hadn’t mentioned the IV having been inserted into her vein. Finn was skittish enough about this hospital visit. “You can give Gramma Tully an easy hug. Like you give Peaches when we visit Aunt Addy.” Peaches was Addy’s orange-and-white tabby cat, a former stray.
Finn set his drawing on the nearby chair and then scooted closer to the bed. Leaning in, he hugged Mama Tully. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said as she wrapped her loving arms around him.
“So am I,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “But if this is what it took to bri
ng you and your momma back to Sweet Springs, I would go through it all over again.” And then the tears came.
Seeing the overwhelming joy that meeting Finn had brought to Mama Tully was all it took to burst the dam of emotion Lila had been holding back. Tears came by the bucketful from both women. After bawling her eyes out the night before following her heart-tugging run-in with Mason, Lila was surprised she had any tears left to cry. But there they were.
Mama Tully released Finn with a sniffle and then took a moment to regain her composure.
Finn stood looking between the two teary-eyed women.
“Don’t mind your momma and I,” Mama Tully told him as she reached for the miniature box of tissues on her bedside table. She handed a tissue to Lila and then plucked one out for herself. “Women tend to cry a lot when we’re happy.”
He looked up at Lila. “Is that why you were crying last night? ’Cause you were happy to be back?”
He’d heard her? Oh, Finn.
Mama Tully’s gaze shifted to Lila.
“Coming back stirred up a lot of memories for me,” she admitted as she stood looking down into Mama Tully’s always kind eyes. Knowing eyes. Eyes that held the questions Mama Tully had tried to ask in the beginning, ones that Lila had immediately steered away from. Mama Tully hadn’t pressed anymore, no doubt fearing Lila’s pushing her away again.
Lila turned to her son. “Yes, Finn, I am very happy to be back.” Or at least a part of her was. The other part of her dreaded running into Mason and once again seeing the resentment and hurt in his eyes. She’d come so close to telling him about Finn. But she’d caused him enough hurt as it was.
Mama Tully offered her an empathetic smile. “I’m sure it has. But I feel like my prayers have finally been answered, having you here.” She looked to Finn. “Both of you.”
