by Mimi Flood
I was now all alone with nothing but the thoughts running through my head. Taking a moment to think, I went over what had happened the previous night or at least what I could remember of it, and what I had found out this morning.
I had never spent such a night with anyone before. Even when things were good with Paul he had never shown me such a good time. Then again, maybe it wasn’t Paul the issue, maybe it was just that I had never felt for him what I now felt for Devon.
I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath.
How did I let myself get here?
My efforts to fight these feelings had been futile and now I was spending the day with him despite knowing I should be doing the exact opposite and distancing myself. I had more important things to worry about.
Devon emerged, dressed in a white, v-neck t-shirt paired with a pair of slightly loose, well-worn jeans. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses and the baseball cap on his head was backward. He looked so young and carefree yet still incredibly sexy. He grinned at me, in that oh-so-mischievous way that yet again made my knees quiver. He clearly hadn’t taken the time to shave, his face scruffy, but I didn’t mind. It looked great on him.
“So where are we headed?” I asked. He shook his head as he approached me. “You won’t even give me a little hint?”
“Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” He winked and held the door open for me.
I thought about it and realized that strangely, I did trust him. I didn’t know much about him—nothing, really, other than what he had told me the day before—but something about him made me feel like I could trust him with my life.
I had never known anyone who made me feel so untroubled, so safe. I became filled with uncertainty at the thought but also strangely invigorated, too.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We hadn’t been in the car for very long before Devon pulled into the small parking lot. We were a few feet from my grandmother’s house—mine now, I reminded myself—and I barely recognized the building that held the offices of the Williams’ Family Orchards company. It used to be my grandmother’s neighbour and someone’s home. She had bought it years ago and had converted over the years. Now, it was a fully operational, two-storey building that housed the sales, marketing, and other operational offices.
Though at first glance the building looked like your run-of-the-mill farmhouse, very rustic and quaint, the business run within its walls ran like a well-oiled machine. The orchard’s products ranged from basic apple products, which were distributed to local stores all the way to award-winning ciders that were sold throughout North America and even in some parts of Europe. I had always been impressed by how well Dolores had managed the business in such a competitive market, and now with her gone, I felt ashamed for never having fully expressed that to her.
We went inside and were welcomed by an older lady who was sitting at the reception desk. Genevieve—or Gigi, as she insisted on being called—smiled and put the phone down.
“Elizabeth!” she said, walking over and taking me in her arms. I had hardly recognized her, she had changed quite a bit since the last time I had been there. “How are you? No, that’s a silly question, I’m so sorry. Things just aren’t the same without her here.”
She looked down and I could tell she missed my grandmother immensely. Gigi had worked at the orchards for most of my life and I couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been part of it.
Her eyes filled with tears and I took her hand. “You’re right, but you know she’d tell us to move on.”
She smiled, taking a tissue from her desk and blowing her nose, “That’s true, she would.”
“I’m going to show Elizabeth around, alright Gigi?”
She nodded and returned to her desk as Devon led me away, down the hall. We walked by converted cozy little offices that had once been bedrooms and I saw a few employees who seemed very busy. It was rather quiet and then I remembered it was Saturday. The fact that anyone was at work when they should be relaxing at home was a surprise, but then it wasn’t uncommon, knowing how busy they got in the spring. Devon explained that now was when all the orders came in and when their sales were the highest. I took in the information and made a note of it, seeing as it would appear it was now my responsibility to know such things.
We rounded a corner and walked through a wooden door.
“This is my office,” Devon said, grinning with pride like a kid showing off his new toy.
The room was light and airy, the walls decorated with artwork and books. It resembled someone’s personal study more than an office.
“Nice digs you have here,” I said, walking to the bookcase. It was filled with dozens of books, from classics to ones about business and economics.
“Thanks,” he said. “Want a drink? Coffee, water?”
“Coffee sounds great,” I replied.
Devon walked to a small counter near his desk, set up with a single-cup coffee machine and some bottled water. I watched him prepare my drink. His hands looked so powerful, so strong, I found that just the sight of them took my breath away. Even the nape of his neck where his hair was closely shaved made my insides tighten. It dawned on me that this might be the surprise he had mentioned earlier but I certainly hoped it wasn’t. Sure, I appreciated seeing his office, and all the renovations that had been done in recent years, but it wasn’t what I thought he had in mind when he had mentioned it at breakfast. I was growing a little disappointed, thinking it might be all he had in store.
“Here you are,” he said, handing me my cup, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I thanked him and sat down in the small sitting area situated by the window that looked out on the orchard. He sat across from me and crossed one leg over the other.
“The place looks like it’s running well,” I said, aiming for business talk. “It was nice seeing Gigi. I’m happy she’s still here. It’s like having a little bit of my grandmother.”
We smiled together.
“She’s terrific. She’s planning on retiring next year, though. Not sure what we’ll do without her.”
“That’s too bad,” I replied, genuinely sad. “I’m sure you’ll find someone.”
“We will.” His eyebrow arched up. “We’re not really going to talk business today, are we?”
“You’re the one who brought me here. If not for business, then for what?”
He stared into my eyes and I could feel my heart thump. My breathing accelerated in response to the simmering excitement below the surface.
He grinned and stood up. “Come. I want to show you something.”
We left his office and walked down the hallway to a large room. A light, fragrant smell surrounded me as we walked in. It was apparent it was for meetings and such since there were several chairs set up around a long table. However, it wasn’t cold and sterile like most conference rooms usually were. This one seemed warm, welcoming. The table was a very long slab of wood that Devon explained had been cut from a single tree. The piece was at least twelve feet long and was polished in a way that beautifully enhanced each knot and its grain. There were dozens of plants throughout the room, some suspended from the ceiling, some on pedestals. Along the back wall was a large projection screen, which really was the only modern element that broke the otherwise natural and calm decor.
“I wanted you to see these,” Devon said, pointing to some pictures on the walls.
I stepped closer to look at them and realized they were of past office parties and different company functions. More importantly, I found my grandmother in every single one, smiling with pride, her arms around her employees as if they were family.
I walked around the room, looking at each black and white portrait, amazed at the time span they covered. The first one, by the door, was a picture of my grandparents in front of their house circa nineteen-forty-nine—my grandmother beaming and pregnant. The pictures continued through the years, the final one as recent as this past Christmas. It warmed my hear
t to know she had always been present in the company’s day-to-day and had been so close to her employees.
“These are amazing, Devon,” I said, my voice soft. “Really beautiful.”
“They are. I prefer being in this room than my office sometimes,” he admitted, standing close to me. “It makes me feel like—,”
“Like you’re home,” I answered, certain I knew what he was going to say.
“Exactly.”
I didn’t look directly at him but could feel his eyes on me.
“I think I understand why you showed me this today.”
“You do?”
“I get it, I do. This place, what it means to everyone. What it meant to her,” I smiled at my grandmother’s face, feeling like she was looking right at me. “It helps a little, I suppose.”
“I hope it does. I just wanted you to see that you’ve inherited a family here, not just a business,” he said, warmly.
His eyes were full of love and admiration, and I was suddenly struck with such sadness as if the last few days had caught up with me and the finality of my grandmother’s passing now felt brutally real. I hadn’t even noticed I was crying until Devon stepped closer to wipe my tears away.
“Don’t cry,” he said, lifting my chin. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
“It’s fine,” I said, dismissively. “I just miss her. I guess it hasn’t hit me yet. Or it just did.”
He pulled me into a hug and I pressed my face against his chest. His hand stroked my back, up and down and I felt overcome with a feeling of comfort.
“Come, let’s get out of here,” he proposed, taking me by the hand and leading the way.
I followed him willingly, knowing there was no point in asking him where he was taking me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
We drove out of town, my mind lost in thought. I had been so busy thinking back on the images Devon had shown me in the office that I had hardly paid any attention to where we were going. When I looked out the window, even though I was fully intent on figuring it out, I definitely could not recognize the area. Even if I asked, I knew he wouldn’t tell me, so instead, I tried to press him for advice.
“If you were me, would you keep it all?”
“The orchards?” He glanced at me and I could tell he saw that there was plenty of doubt in my mind. I saw him crease his eyebrows, giving it some thought. “Well, I can’t really answer that, Elle. I’m not you.”
“I understand that, but humour me.” I didn’t know why, but I felt his opinion would actually help me in some way. “If you were in my shoes, what would you do?”
He took a deep breath as we turned onto a dirt road. I looked up ahead, still unable to tell where we were going.
“I guess I’d try to run it as well as Dolores did and try to make her proud.” His answer filled me with trepidation and he smiled as if seeing the worry on my face. “Don’t worry, Elle. Do your best and I’m sure it will all work out.”
“That’s the thing, though. I don’t know the first thing about running a company.” I let out a long sigh, feeling exasperated. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not being very good company.”
He reached over and gently squeezed my thigh. The act caught me by surprise but I didn’t dare move.
“I’m sure Dolores didn’t expect you to know everything right from the get-go.”
My grandmother had been clear in her suggestion that I speak with Henri should I have any questions, but nowhere had she mentioned who to talk to for guidance about running a highly successful business.
“You’ll do fine.”
“And you’ll be there for me?” I could hear the open meaning within my question, which wasn’t at all how I had intended it to come out. “I mean if I have questions or whatever?” I replied quickly, unsure if I had been able to hide my blunder.
“If you need help, I’m here for you, anytime.” The car took yet another turn. “You need to understand, though, that it’s a lot of work. Busy days, nights, even weekends. Not much time to relax, but when all is said and done, it’s worth it.” He looked at me, and I could tell he felt my anxiety. “But I’m biased, it doesn’t really feel like work for me, you know?”
He searched my eyes for some understanding. I wanted to smile in recognition, but the reality was that I couldn’t.
I had no idea what he meant. I had never thought of work as anything but just that: work. Though I had dreamt of one day having a job that I loved, the truth was I had not found it yet. I hoped he wouldn’t press the subject because I didn’t feel like admitting my entire life’s plan had crumbled and I was now just working to pay the bills.
I knew he loved his job, and I appreciated his passion for it, but I knew that I would probably never feel the same as he did about the orchards. It now represented so much loss to me—both my grandparents were attached to it and were gone—and I would never be able to immerse myself in it the way they all had.
The car slowed down as we made our way down a small, country road. Our destination came into view as we passed under a large, iron archway that read Les Écuries Gallant.
“Oh, no, you’re kidding. We’re going horseback riding?”
“You’re not scared of horses, are you?” he asked, parking the car.
“Maybe you should have asked me that before we got here?” I joked but still felt a little nervous as we got out of the car. I waited while Devon fished a backpack out of the trunk and then followed him to the main building.
“If you don’t want to, I’ll understand.”
“It’s not that. I’ve just never done it before.”
“Never?” he asked, his surprise obvious. Opening the door for me, he leaned in and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”
He gently stroked my cheek with his thumb, filling me with a feeling of serenity and for some reason, I couldn’t quite understand, I felt yet again like I was in safe hands.
We walked into the ranch’s office and were met by an older man with white hair and the most enchanting smile. He introduced himself as Robert Gallant, but he insisted I call him Bob. Soon, I could see the ease and familiarity between him and Devon. They started speaking to each other, sharing small talk and the easygoing way they spoke to one another confirmed that they had known each other for quite a while.
Bob offered me his condolences. “Dolores and I have been friends for a long time,” he explained, then corrected himself. “Were friends.”
His big, blue eyes filled with tears and I got the distinct impression that his relationship with Dolores may have been more than platonic.
Though my grandfather had died nearly twenty years before, I had never given much thought to my grandmother’s love life after he had passed. Bob was a fairly handsome man and I realized that it wasn’t entirely that far-fetched to imagine him dating Dolores. After all, as I was slowly learning every minute I spent in my hometown, there was a lot my grandmother had kept to herself.
Guiding us out to the paddocks, Bob introduced us to our riding companions for the day. The first horse was named Sunshine. He was a small, black gelding that seemed to fit his name perfectly, exuding warmth and letting me stroke his muzzle.
His neighbour, on the other hand, was a horse named Lucky. She was an enormous brown mare, who seemed feisty and independent. I got the impression that her name was indicative of how one would feel if they came back alive after riding her. She was so full of energy that even Bob, who was definitely a well-seasoned rider, was having difficulty reining her in.
As if sensing my anxiety, Devon leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, she’s mine.”
Though I wasn’t entirely relieved that Devon would be taking a chance with Lucky, I was, in all honesty, thankful I wasn’t going to be the one riding her. With the horses saddled and ready to go, Devon helped me up onto Sunshine. The horse felt gigantic to me, even though Bob told me that he was one of his smallest horses.
“He’s a sweetheart,” Bob reassured me, handing me t
he reins, explaining the commands I needed to know. Sunshine remained still and relaxed, easing my jitters.
Devon double checked all the equipment, walking around my horse, pulling on straps and other things, making sure I was comfortable.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he reminded me, looking empathetic. Again, he placed his hand on my thigh, sending shivers through me, immediately calming my worries.
“Let’s do it,” I said, cringing at my choice of words.
Why did his touch make me so nervous?
He nodded, unphased by what I said and approached Lucky. She fussed and seemed a little hesitant at first, but Devon took her face in his hands and whispered something in her ear. She soon calmed down and even nuzzled up to him.
I looked on, amazed.
“It’s unbelievable how good he is with that horse,” Bob said, standing by me. “He’s the only one that can ride her, you know? But then again, they’re always better with their owners aren’t they?”
“Owner?” I asked, my eyes wide with surprise.
“Ready?” Devon asked before Bob could respond.
I nodded. Devon beamed, his face alight with a truly genuine and contented smile.
So Devon Barrett owns a horse?
I shook my head in disbelief. Here I was assuming these horses belonged to the ranch, not once even considering the possibility that Devon might own one. It seemed there was much more to him than I had previously gleaned.
He led the way out of the paddock, down a dirt path that disappeared into the woods beyond. I followed behind him, still feeling slightly unsure on the tall horse, but also feeling such a high level of excitement for what might possibly be coming around the bend.
