by Kat Brookes
“Finn, sweetie,” Lila said, “don’t you have something you wanted to give Gramma Tully?”
“I do,” he said, grinning wide, then lifted the drawing he’d done for her and placed it atop the crisp white bedsheet that covered Mama Tully’s lap.
She studied the picture before lifting her gaze to Finn, who stood eagerly watching for her reaction to his artwork. “You did this?”
He nodded proudly. “It’s my family.” Reaching out, he pointed to each of the people he’d drawn standing next to the house. “That’s Momma and then you. This is Aunt Addy. She’s holding Peaches, her kitty.” His finger slid over to the edge of the house’s porch, where two dogs lay beside two bright red balls. “That’s—”
“Honey and Grits,” Mama Tully finished for him, her eyes tearing up once again. “I think this is the nicest gift I’ve ever received.”
“He certainly doesn’t get his creativeness from me,” Lila said without thinking. The last thing she wanted to do was stir up questions about Finn’s supposed father. Her son had only recently begun asking questions about his father, no longer satisfied by her telling him that families weren’t always made up of mommas and daddies and their children.
“Sometimes talent is just plain God-given,” Mama Tully said, looking to Lila. “Now, tell me about my babies. How are they faring with me away?” she asked, thankfully redirecting the focus of their conversation.
Lila gave her a grateful smile.
“They like to play ball,” Finn answered excitedly.
“Especially Grits,” Lila chimed in. “His energy is endless.”
“He likes to bite my feet.”
Mama Tully’s eyes widened worriedly. “He bit you?”
“More of a playful nip,” Lila corrected. “And only at our heels when we’re walking away.”
Relief eased her features. “It’s common for Australian shepherds to try and herd you as they would sheep or cattle.” Her expression turned fretful once more. “I do hope they’re not too much for you. I know you aren’t used to having dogs of any kind underfoot. If they are, I’ll ask Mason to continue looking after them. He’s been watching over things for me while I’ve been in the hospital.” Her expression suddenly changed, concern replacing her smile. “Oh no. I meant to call Mason yesterday, after I knew you were definitely coming, to let him know. But I was so tired, as you know, and completely forgot.”
“We ran into each other last night,” Lila told her, trying not to let the effect that meeting had had on her show. Mama Tully would only worry over her.
“Who’s Mason?” her son asked, looking up at Lila.
“He was a very good friend of your momma’s when she lived in Sweet Springs. He and his family live next door to your gramma Tully.” She looked to Lila. “It must have been such a shock for him, finding you there. I thought it best not to mention it to him, since you had no plans to return to Sweet Springs—until now. I pray things weren’t too awkward between the two of you.”
It was all Lila could do not to look to her son, who was living, breathing proof of that past. But to do so would possibly lead Mama Tully to put two and two together, something she’d thankfully hadn’t done. Maybe the resemblance between Finn and his father was more in her mind than what others saw in person.
“It was a little awkward,” Lila admitted. More than a little, she thought to herself, having had to face his less-than-warm welcome. Face the future she had run away from. Face the painful realization that he truly had moved on. Those things had hurt so deeply, but she knew now that she had made the right decision in leaving all those years ago. And if she and Mason both stuck to their settled-upon agreement, neither of them would have to go through the discomfort again.
Mama Tully fretted. “I’m sorry, honey. If being at the house and crossing paths with Mason is going to be too uncomfortable for you—”
“It’s not,” Lila told her, not wanting Mama Tully to worry about any sort of conflict arising between her and Mason. “Mason and I are both adults, and our focus is on taking any and all burdens—or blessings, as in the case of Honey and Grits—off your shoulders until you are recovered enough to see to them yourself. He’ll see to the yardwork and garden, and I’ll care for your babies while I’m here.”
“Those two can be a little ornery at times,” Mama Tully said worriedly. “I hope they don’t get to be too much.”
Lila gave her a reassuring smile. “You needn’t worry yourself about that. Your babies are no trouble at all.” Mason living right next door, however, was a whole different story.
* * *
“Mason?”
Releasing his hold on the bushel of peaches he’d just set down next to the bakery counter, Mason straightened. He turned to find his sister, Violet, looking at him as if he’d put his shirt on backward that morning.
“What?”
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked with a frown.
“Never been better,” he answered absently as he started past her. He had work to do and wasn’t exactly feeling social that afternoon.
“Mason,” she said insistently, causing him to stop midstride and turn to face her. Her expression was one of concern. “What’s going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the past few days.”
“What makes you think—”
“I found him.” They turned to face Jake, who was moving toward them, cell phone pressed to his ear, gaze fixed on Mason.
Him? With Violet being the only other person in the vicinity, Mason deduced his younger brother was referring to him. “I didn’t realize I was lost,” Mason said in an attempt at humor. Jake ended his call and shoved his cell phone back into the pocket of his jeans.
“Lost and confused, apparently,” his little sister remarked, pointing at the bushel of peaches Mason had just carried in from the orchard.
Looking down, Mason gave himself a mental head shake, his sister’s concern suddenly making sense. He’d delivered the additional peaches his mother had requested for the market’s bakery to the wrong place. Frowning, he retraced his steps to retrieve the round wooden basket. When he turned, he found himself hemmed in by his brother and sister, who were standing side by side, arms crossed, blocking the direct route to the market’s exit.
“Momma’s waiting,” he told them.
“And so are we,” his sister announced determinedly.
His younger brother nodded. “Waiting for you to tell us what’s had you so distracted.”
“Can it wait until I get these to Momma?”
They didn’t budge.
Mason sighed. He supposed they were bound to find out sooner or later. Word traveled fast in small towns. “Lila’s back. I ran into her a few days ago, over at Mrs. Tully’s place.”
Their stubborn expressions turned to shock.
“Your Lila?” Jake gasped.
“She’s not mine,” Mason muttered in irritation. Never was. He’d just been too blinded by young love to see that for himself.
“What is she doing here?” his sister demanded with a frown. “If she thinks she’s going to be welcomed back with open arms, she’s got another think coming.”
Unlike Lila, his family was loyal to a fault. I wasn’t going to be the reason you gave up your dream, your family’s dream for you. Had she truly left because she thought his being with her would hold him back from becoming whatever it was he would choose to become? Or was that another one of her convenient sidesteps from the truth—that she had never truly loved him the way he had loved her?
“I don’t think she expects anything,” he admitted. “Lila is here for Mrs. Tully. She’s going to be watching over her dogs while she’s in the hospital, and then see to Mrs. Tully herself once she gets home.”
“Mrs. Tully’s done fine without Lila’s help all these years,” his sister wasted no time in pointing out. Although she’d been j
ust shy of fourteen at the time, Violet knew how deeply Lila’s departure had hurt him.
“True,” Mason agreed with a nod, “but the hospital will only release her into somebody’s care.”
“There are plenty of people here in Sweet Springs who would be willing to help out until Mrs. Tully is back on her feet again.”
“I agree. But it’s not our decision to make.”
“I thought you were seeing to Honey and Grits,” Jake chimed in.
Mason looked to his younger brother. “I was, but now Lila is here to look after them.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “Long enough to get Mrs. Tully home and back on her feet again.”
Confusion knit his brother’s brows together. “How did Lila even know Mrs. Tully was in the hospital?”
“Addy told her,” Mason replied.
“Addy?” Jake repeated in surprise. “She knew how to reach Lila?”
Mason’s frown deepened. “From the start, according to Lila.”
“How could she keep something like that from us?” Violet demanded. “She knew how upset we all were after Lila had gone. She could have said something to Momma during any one of their phone conversations over the years.”
“Should have,” his brother grumbled with a scowl.
“Lila made her promise not to,” Mason said in Addy’s defense. Not that her silence sat well with him, but she wasn’t there to defend her actions. “You and Violet would have done the same for me if I had asked you to keep a secret.”
“But we’re family,” she argued.
“Lila and Addy might not be blood related, but they were foster sisters,” he reminded them.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us Lila was back,” his sister said with an accusatory glance.
“Yeah,” Jake agreed.
“No reason to,” he told them. “As far as I’m concerned, her being here isn’t going to affect my life.”
His younger brother quirked a dark brow. “I’d say it already has.”
“It won’t again,” Mason assured them as he tightened his grip on the misdelivered basket of peaches. Once he was over the shock of seeing her again, everything would be all right. At least, he prayed it would. Because contrary to what he’d said about Lila not affecting his life, she had. Her return had affected his sleep, his ability to focus and, to his frustration, his emotional state. It had to stop.
“I’ve got to get these over to the house,” he said, stepping around the barricade his siblings had formed with their bodies. “Momma’s waiting.”
* * *
A little over an hour later, Mason climbed into his Gator, the utility vehicle he used at times to get around the orchard, and headed off through the peach-dappled trees toward Mrs. Tully’s place. It was ten minutes past three o’clock, falling within the time frame he and Lila had agreed upon in order to avoid crossing paths with each other, and she was most likely at the hospital.
His momma seemed to be the only one in his family oblivious to his inner turmoil. But then she’d been distracted by the onslaught of pie orders every harvest season brought in.
“It’s been nine years,” he muttered to himself. “Let it go.” Let her go.
Most days he avoided giving any thought to the old peach tree where he and Lila used to meet after school. A place where she’d once trusted him enough to share her painful past with him. A place where she used to go to sit and write her innermost thoughts down in her private journal. A place where their friendship had blossomed, apparently more deeply for him than for her. But since their encounter days before, all those memories had resurfaced, beckoning him to that spot.
Maybe he needed to go there. Needed to be reminded of the hurt Lila had caused him. Of the hole her leaving town had left in his heart. Something to help steel his emotions for the times that they would inadvertently cross paths. Sweet Springs was a small town. It was almost unavoidable. He just prayed her stay wouldn’t be a long one and that he could go back to his blessedly uncomplicated life. Blessedly lonely, his heart chimed in with the unwanted reminder. Sure, there had been opportunities to go out with other women over the years, but he wasn’t the kind of man to lead someone on. His heart wasn’t available for the giving, maybe never would be again.
Mason shoved that thought away, turning his focus instead to the peaches that hung heavy on the carefully pruned branches around him. That particular section would be harvested within the next several days, providing him a much-needed distraction. Something to focus on instead of his temporary neighbor who had, much to his chagrin, grown even prettier with time.
He eased his foot up on the Gator’s gas pedal as he neared the tree, and thankfully so, because Grits suddenly darted out from between two trees on his left, coming to a stop the moment he caught sight of the utility vehicle. Mason did the same, slamming his booted foot down onto the utility vehicle’s brake pedal.
So this was how Lila dog sat? Turning them loose to run wild? He glanced about for Honey, who was always trailing after her sidekick.
“Grits!”
Both Mason and the dog, tongue lolling out from its run, turned their heads in the direction the voice had come from. Before he could register the fact that it wasn’t Lila in pursuit of Mrs. Tully’s Australian shepherd, a young boy emerged past what used to be his and Lila’s special tree.
The dog barked, and the boy turned, his frantic expression sliding instantly away.
“There you are!” he said, relief clear in his voice. And then, as if just noticing Mason, who was still seated nearby inside his utility vehicle, he swung his gaze around.
Confusion left Mason speechless for several long moments. Where had this kid come from? Who was he?
“Hello,” the boy said with a smile that seemed so familiar.
“Hello,” Mason managed, but before he could utter another word, Grits darted off into the orchard in the opposite direction from which he’d come.
Panic lit the kid’s face.
“Finn!” an achingly familiar voice called out from somewhere beyond in the orchard.
“Mom!”
Mason was gutted by the sudden realization of who this boy was. As if to verify his conclusion, Lila burst through the tree line, her long blond curls bouncing wildly about her shoulders and down her back. Her gaze lit on her son first, and then, catching sight of Mason in her peripheral vision, she came to an immediate, stumbling stop. The long red leash she held in one hand swung to and fro as she fought to regain her balance.
“Mason,” she said with a gasp.
As he stood staring at Lila, all he could think about was the fact that this pint-size bright-eyed boy with his short, dark curls—curls he’d clearly inherited from his mother—must be Lila’s son.
“I...” she began, as if struggling for words.
Several excited barks erupted from deeper in the orchard.
“Mom,” her son said anxiously.
“I’ll get him,” Mason said, cutting the engine. Exiting the Gator, he closed the distance between Lila and himself and reached for the leash, which she wordlessly handed over to him. “Honey?”
She blinked—twice.
“Is she on the run, too?” he asked impatiently, his gaze sliding in the direction the other dog had run off in.
“No,” she said, slightly winded from her run through the orchards. “I put her in the house when Grits escaped his leash.”
“He’s not a fan of the leash,” he told her. “I usually just let him out to run around with Honey in the yard to get their energy out.”
“And they don’t run away from you?” she asked in surprise.
Unlike you? he wanted to say. “No,” he replied and then started into the orchard. “Grits and I will meet you back at Mrs. Tully’s,” he called back over his shoulder.
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Lila has a son. That was all Mason could focus on as he went after the runaway pup. He shouldn’t be surprised by the revelation. Not that she had made any mention of Finn when they’d spoken that first evening. But it had been nearly a decade since he’d last seen Lila. So much could change—apparently had changed—since then.
He cut through another row of peach trees, ducking to dodge a low-hanging branch. “Grits!” he called out, his gaze sweeping the area.
A distant bark had him shifting direction. Why did Grits have to get a burr in his fur britches, making him want to run that day of all days? But then, if he hadn’t, Mason might never have discovered Lila had a son. Was Finn her only child? Or did she have a whole slew of them tucked away in the house? He shook his head. Lila having one child was more than enough to wrap his head around. He prayed Finn was the only surprise he would have during her stay there. He supposed he should prepare himself for the possibility of a husband showing up, as well.
Lord, please give me the strength to set my feelings, feelings I no longer have any right to, aside, and be the man my momma and daddy raised me to be. Thoughts of his father had him in turn wondering about Finn’s. Who was the man who had succeeded where he had not in winning Lila’s heart? The man who had the family Mason had once dreamed of. Once again, he found himself wondering why Mrs. Tully had kept so much from him—Lila’s whereabouts, her marriage, her son. Had his neighbor, a woman both he and his family were quite fond of, done so in an effort to protect his feelings?
The sound of scampering feet in the not-too-far distance drew Mason from his troubled thoughts. Stopping, he cupped his hands to his mouth, calling out, “Grits! Here, boy!”
The dog appeared a few seconds later, bounding toward him with a peach held firmly in his mouth.
“There you are,” he said with as much of a smile as he could muster at that particular moment when he felt like doing anything but.
The pup stopped a few feet away and dropped the pilfered piece of fruit onto the ground, wagging his nubbin of a tail.
