The cookies smelled fresh and his stomach rumbled. He realized that, despite the numerous casseroles and baked goods dropped off by well-meaning acquaintances, he hadn’t eaten much lately. He’d packaged the food up and put it all in Roman’s freezer, unsure if it would ever get eaten.
He took a cookie from the plate.
“I thought I knew what I wanted. I became a journalist to fix things that were wrong in the world. To shine a light in the dark areas.”
“And you did that.”
“Did I? I might have gotten the ball rolling but there’s so much more to do.”
The legal machinations would take years. Arondi’s behavior had been exposed, which meant he wouldn’t be able to prey on women like Carly Cassidy anymore. Whitey Irving had taken a massive hit, too. Diversion was circling the drain, its reputation shot, its advertising gutted.
Jon had offers from every entertainment magazine in the business. He could write his own ticket, thanks to the Arondi exposé.
But somehow, the victory was hollow.
There were a million causes, he thought. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten so focused on one pile of manure that he’d stopped seeing the big wide world around it, filled with lots of other shit that could be cleaned up, or, better, turned into acres of beauty. Sanctuary Ranch was making the world a better place, far more effectively than he ever had.
He didn’t want to live in Los Angeles anymore. And now, he didn’t have to. His condo had sold the week after the funeral. He’d packed up what little he couldn’t live without, giving away the rest, and now it sat in a trailer in front of Roman’s house, waiting to be unloaded.
He had a home here in Sunset Bay, thanks to his father. He had friends, a dog who needed him.
“You know, your father was pretty smart.” Daphne took a bite of her cookie. “He picked Abby out for you long before either of you had a clue. Of course, he was also thick as a brick. He should have told you the truth about his cancer when he found out. But I guess better late than never. I’m going to miss that man.”
“Yeah,” said Jon. “Me, too. Are you going to tell me where Abby is?”
“Depends. What are your intentions toward her?”
Jamie’s face peeked from around the corner of the door. Below it was Sage. Above was Haylee.
“I can see you,” Jon said.
The three women practically tumbled into the room.
“She’s our friend,” Jamie said. “We have a right to know.”
“If you hurt her,” Sage warned.
“Sage!” Haylee said. Then she turned to Jon and smiled. “You weren’t planning on hurting her, were you? Because we would have to kill you, then.”
Jon couldn’t help but laugh. The strength of these friendships went past anything he’d ever experienced. This place was a family, in every sense of the word.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I’d tell her, but I don’t know where she is.”
The women looked at each other.
“I don’t know,” Haylee said. “Do we trust him?”
“He’s a man,” Sage replied. “I thought that meant an automatic no.”
“You have much to learn, young one,” Daphne said. “Not all men are scum. Some can be taught. I believe this one has potential.”
“I do,” Jon said.
“Practice those words,” Daphne said. “I’ll be expecting to hear them said properly, very soon.”
* * *
Abby hiked the wheelbarrow up and began carting it to the compost heap. She was tired. She wanted to work on her recipes, but this was the growing season.
She missed Jon. She missed Roman. She missed Chaos. She’d missed the routine of going up to the house, playing games, and having quiet cups of tea on the porch.
The house was empty now. Jon was in Los Angeles. Chaos was probably becoming familiar with doggy daycare and forgetting all about his human friends here in Oregon.
As Jon predicted, Quinn’s testimony had been the lynchpin in the case against Richard Arondi. She’d spent some time with Carly while she’d been there but had returned as soon as she could.
Quinn appeared . . . settled. As if something that had been bothering her was now put to rest. She was working hard with Ziggy, her rescue dog. She spent time every week with Jamie and the therapy dogs. She had begun studying canine behavior via an online course.
She was talking about going to college, possibly becoming a teacher. Or a psychologist.
She insisted that Abby no longer had to worry about her, that she could just be an ordinary sister now, but Abby had no idea what that meant.
She was floating without an anchor.
Lost and alone, exactly as she’d always expected.
But letting Jon go was the right thing to do. He deserved a chance to achieve his dreams, and in a small town like Sunset Bay, that wasn’t going to happen.
All the time she and Quinn had been alone and struggling, she’d never felt as lonely as she did right now. Her sister had plans but Abby didn’t.
She’d never looked toward the future. She’d never imagined a life of possibility and hope, despite what Jon had told her. He’d been wrong about a lot of things.
She certainly never dreamed she’d fall in love.
All those things had happened, but they’d happened out of order, and now her reasoning no longer applied. Jon had been right. She was a coward. She had been using Quinn as an excuse.
But it was too late now.
She straightened up and wiped her forearm across her brow. Somewhere beyond the trees, she heard the sound of tires on gravel, followed by a car door. The dogs in the kennel set up their usual racket when someone came on the yard.
Life would go on, as Roman said. She’d recover, find a new way to be. It would be fine.
The barking grew louder and then, a dog burst through the leafy green screen beyond the garden.
He raced toward her, a yellow Labrador with a red tongue lolling out of his grinning mouth.
“Chaos?” she said, dropping her gloves.
The dog leaped and cavorted at her side, licking and howling and leaning against her in an overflow of affection.
But if Chaos was here . . .
Against the setting sun she saw a figure approaching. A tall, lean man with a distinctive lanky gait.
It couldn’t be. She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to move.
Jon.
“Settle down, Chaos,” he said. “It’s my turn.”
He strode up to her and took her in his arms without missing a beat.
“You . . . you left.”
“You think you can get rid of me that easily?” he said into her hair. “Think again.”
She burst into tears. “You came back?”
“Of course I came back.”
“I’ve missed you so much.” She hung on to him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning.
She took a step back, peered into his face. “But what about your job? Your condo? Your . . . life?”
“I sold my condo. I turned down the offers in L.A. My life is wherever you are. I’m moving into Dad’s place. I told Elliott that I’d be happy to contribute remotely, until he can find a replacement, but I’ll be freelancing while we decide what the future holds. I’m thinking of writing a book.”
She couldn’t make sense of his words. “Freelancing? A book?”
“I’m back, Abby. Not just for a visit, but for good. I love you. You’re here, so this is where I have to be.”
His expression was so earnest, so full of love, she could barely say what she needed to. “I love you too, Jon. I do. I can’t help it. But I’ll always be Quinn’s big sister and if she needs me, I have to be there for her. I’m sorry.”
He pushed her back so he could look at her. “Don’t be sorry. Of course we’ll be there for her. She’ll always have a place with us, if she wants. To live, to visit, to look
after our babies, whatever.”
Abby’s jaw dropped.
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh yes. There will be babies. Puppies and kittens for sure. Probably human babies, too. I suspect Quinn won’t want to live with a couple of lovebirds like us, but that’s totally up to her.”
“And you want to live here, in Sunset Bay, at Roman’s place?”
He shrugged. “It’s grown on me. I don’t think I slept properly for a single night in California. The air is different out here. You told me it was a healing place and I think you’re right. I healed my relationship with my dad before he died. Now I want to heal my relationship with you.”
The dog had plopped himself into the warm earth and was watching them, panting happily.
“Chaos missed this place. He missed you, too. I missed you. You have no idea how much.”
“I have more of an idea than you know. But Jon, you can’t further your career from a remote location like this.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “You’d be surprised. Plus, you know the old saying about how if you keep doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always gotten?”
She nodded.
“I wasn’t reaching my goals in Hollywood. I thought I was. Dad made me see that I’d been focused on revenge, when I should have been focused on making the world a better place. So, I’m changing my goals.”
“That’s wonderful, Jon.”
“And I want you to think about yours, too. You can keep working here at the ranch, of course. I know how much you love it. But what about horticulture school? Or opening your own landscaping business or flower shop? As long as we’re together, Abby, we’ll come up with bigger and better dreams than we ever imagined. And whether we succeed or fail, it won’t matter because we’ll have each other.”
His dreams for her were bigger than anything she’d dared hope for herself, and he wasn’t done.
“I love you,” he said. Then he spread his hands out at his sides, helplessly. “I love you. Wherever you go, whatever you want to do, if you’ll have me, I’ll be there. The only thing that matters is that we’re together. I want to spend the rest of our lives taking care of each other. So, Abby, I’m asking. Do you love me, too?”
“Yes, Jon,” she whispered in his ear. “I love you. I think I always have.”
He dropped to his knees and she gasped.
“Abby Warren,” he said. “Will you marry me? I can’t live without you. I know, because I tried.”
She couldn’t speak. She wanted to, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her voice failed her. Jon was a man who lived by words and she had none to give him. She’d kept her words tucked inside her, where they were safe, where no one could steal them or twist them or use them against her.
But he’d understood her anyway. Jon said Roman had talked about a language that we didn’t know we understood, until we found ourselves speaking it. He meant love, she realized. It had always been there, waiting for her to be ready.
She nodded. Up and down, again and again, until the words came back.
“Yes.” The word came out in a squeak. “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you.”
Chaos leaped to his feet and ran circles around them, barking with joy.
Behind them, their friends high-fived and laughed and hugged each other.
“About time,” Daphne called.
In her mind’s eye, Abby imagined that she could see, somewhere beyond the garden, past the stables and the kennels, up the wooded hillside and on the other side of the creek, a gray-haired man with wise, satisfied eyes peering between the silvered clouds at them, smiling.
* * *
Abby gaped uncomprehendingly. “What?”
“The terms of Dad’s will are clear.” Jon squeezed her hand. “It’s a done deal. It’s in your name. Goldie’s bakery, although she said she’d be happy for you to rename it whatever you like.”
Luckily for her she was already seated because she couldn’t feel her legs. Roman had left her a business? With waterfront property?
“This is like a soap opera,” she said. “The penniless young woman wiggles her way into the affections of an older man with a terminal illness, so she can get her hands on his money.”
“He probably got a kick out of it, too,” Jon said.
She shook her head. “What am I going to do with a bakery?”
“Abby.” Jon took her hand. “Don’t panic. There’s no rush. No need to make any decisions. The mortgage and taxes are paid. The property is yours to do with as you like. Dad wanted to do this for you. He understood how much you’ve sacrificed in your life, how much you’ve had to fight and claw for everything you’ve got, how hard you work, how much you love your sister.”
Hearing all those things brought tears to her eyes. Roman, for all his gruff mannerisms and sometimes harsh words, had seen the truth of her. And yes, he’d loved her.
“He also wanted to make sure that Roman’s Apple Cake became famous. He made me promise to write about it in the Sunset Bay Chronicle’s annual restaurant round-up. The apple cake, the cookies, all of his favorites. You’re to bake to your heart’s content. You were the daughter he’d always wanted. He wanted to give you this chance. What you do with it is up to you.”
“Jon, did he give me your inheritance?” She pressed her palms over her mouth. She’d sign the deed over to Jon, in that case, no matter what Roman’s final wishes had been.
But he squeezed her hands and bent forward, peering at her from around the curtain of hair.
“Abby,” he said, “my father was a very wealthy man. He received a generous insurance settlement following the accident in L.A. He invested it wisely and he lived simply, out here with his dogs and his birds and his garden. He never let on that he had money, probably because he didn’t want people to think there was anything to get from him. I suspect he included me in that group.”
“Well.” Abby gave a hiccupping laugh. “He certainly had us all fooled. I’m happy for him but I still can’t take the money.”
“He thought that’s how you’d feel. So here’s the other part. He’s set up a fund for Quinn, so she can go to school.”
Another shock. He’d thought of Quinn, too?
“Enough for four years, tuition and housing. She can become a teacher if that’s still what she wants. Or do something else with the money, it’s up to her. But if you don’t accept yours, she doesn’t get hers.”
Quinn, a teacher. Abby’s mind boggled. She had a gift for children, especially those with needs over and above those met in a typical classroom. Quinn recognized the outliers, the watchers, the not-included. She recognized them because she’d been one herself, and knew, instinctively, what they needed.
“He thought of everything, didn’t he?”
Roman knew exactly how to play her. He knew that if there was a chance to help Quinn, she’d take it, no matter how difficult it was for her.
“He gave a lot of gifts, not all money,” Jon said. “He made a donation to help start up the equine therapy program—and to keep Apollo in oats for the rest of his life.”
Abby laughed. “He certainly loved that horse.”
“Apollo was good for him.”
And not just that horse. Roman had become a favorite with many of the rescues: horses, dogs, even the barn cats. For someone who’d once been a recluse, he’d ended up touching so many lives.
“He was a wonderful man.”
Jon’s face grew distant for a moment. “You gave him the gift of one last summer, staying in his house, where he wanted to be. I didn’t know it at the time,” he said, turning back to her with the smile she loved so well, “but it turned out to be the best gift for me, too.”
ROMAN’S APPLE CAKE
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Combine in mixing bowl:
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1¼ cup whole wheat flour
¼ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking powder<
br />
1½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Beat in:
⅔ cup canola oil
2 eggs
⅔ cup buttermilk
1½ teaspoon vanilla
Add:
3 cups Jonagold apples, peeled and chopped
Mix well. Pour into greased and floured 9 x 13 inch pan.
Crumble together:
1 tablespoon melted butter
2 teaspoons cinnamon
⅓ cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons flour
½ cup coconut
½ cup rolled oats
Cover cake batter with streusel topping and bake uncovered for 30–35 minutes. Let cool completely before serving.
If you enjoyed BLACKBERRY COVE,
be sure not to miss the book where it all started,
SUNSET BAY SANCTUARY
by
Roxanne Snopek!
Available in your favorite bookstore or e-retailer.
Turn the page for a peek at Haylee and Aiden’s story!
“Two thumbs up for Sanctuary Ranch: go for the horses. Stay for the food. Best week ever.”
—DanandJan
There was a lot to love about ranch life, and as Haylee Hansen breathed in the aromas coming through the open sliding doors to the main house, and listened to the cook and her assistant bantering in the kitchen, she agreed with Dan and Jan’s Trip Advisor review.
Horses, dogs and food, she amended.
Best life ever.
“Come on, Ju-Jube,” she said to the elderly dog at her side. “Let’s see what Daphne’s got for us tonight.”
The dog, who was actually called Jewel but responded to a variety of names including Jay, Sweetie-bear, treat, walkies, car-ride, and anything to do with food—perked her ears and wagged her beaver-fat tail, her tongue lolling sideways from her grinning jaw. Jewel was the unwanted product of a classic princess/stable boy romance between a champion pedigreed Labrador retriever and an unknown opportunist, but her accidental life had brought immeasurable joy to dozens of people over the years.
Blackberry Cove Page 24
