“Jax.” His father rounded the desk and crossed the small room. Richard Ingerson wasn’t the kind of guy who wasted production space on lavish offices, a quality he carried through life. “Do they know who you are?”
“They do not.” He gripped the folder he clutched a little tighter. “But they will now.” He didn’t wait to see his brother’s expression of regret or his dad’s sympathy. There was a job to be done and his army training clicked in. When there was a job to do, send in your best men to do it. Today—in Golden Grove—he was the best man for the job. He didn’t have to like it, but he had to do it.
He got into his truck, grabbed a coffee from a convenience store on Route 28 and drove north, knowing that each mile was bringing him closer to shattering someone’s hopes and dreams. The fact that they were Libby’s dreams only made the trip that much harder.
* * *
Libby spotted Jax coming out of the orchard around five thirty and met him when he parked the truck. “We made over a thousand dollars today. On a Monday, Jax. That’s amazing, isn’t it?”
He smiled, but the expression seemed forced today. Not normal for the guy who’d worked so hard to make sure this all worked out. “That’s a solid day, for sure.”
“And thank you for grabbing CeeCee off the bus and bringing her over. We had a little quiet time and she did her reading. Was Gramps okay for you?”
“Fine. Quiet, kind of. Courtney came and got him settled, so I went out to work.”
“And they staked out the barn.” She pointed to the neon-flagged ground stakes, marking the barn’s new footprint and buried utilities. “Thank you for overseeing all of that. There’s no way I could do this without you, and I’m truly grateful.”
Her words made him wince. “Libby, I—”
“Mom, I am so hungry and it’s suppertime, right?” CeeCee dashed out the side door. It banged shut behind her. She stopped, glanced over her shoulder with an “oops” look, then raced forward again. “Is it hot dogs? Please say it’s hot dogs!”
“I got them this morning because you and Gramps love them. CeeCee, you’ve been such a big help to me on the farm,” she said, looping her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “And I’m so proud of how well you’re doing in school. Girl, you’re reading already. That’s amazing!”
“It sure is.” Jax tipped a full-fledged smile down at CeeCee, then bumped knuckles with her. “Great job.”
“Well, it’s so easy,” the five-year-old bragged. “And sometimes I help Henry and Dottie with their work because I know how to make every single letter both ways and I can almost always color in all the lines. Except some of the tiny ones and they’re just silly,” she added.
“Thank you for helping others, CeeCee. That’s a wonderful thing. Let’s get you and Gramps fed and then we’ll have some story time.”
“I’ll pick the books!” She ran back into the house, and caught the wooden door just before it banged shut.
“Good job,” Libby called out.
CeeCee’s grin was enough of an answer in the fading light. She shifted her attention back to Jax. “It’s getting dark earlier now, and I know that’s expected, but there’s not much time to get back here and do anything in the evening except supper, dishes and reading. You were about to ask me something?” she added as she moved toward the house. He opened the screen door and let her precede him, a gentleman’s gesture.
“We need a time to talk. I’ve got something I have to go over with you.”
The barn, she assumed, and she was about to reply when Cleve met them in the kitchen. He had the truck keys in his hand and a determined expression. “I’m heading into town. The diner’s got meat loaf on Wednesdays and we always go for the meat loaf special on Wednesdays. I guess your grandma’s meeting me there.”
His nighttime confusion was growing worse with the diminishing light. The shorter days seemed to exacerbate his sundowning, and that could mean a long, tough winter ahead.
“Gramps, that would be such a nice treat.” Libby treated his confusion like it was no big deal as Jax quietly shut the door. “Except it’s Monday and the diner’s closed on Monday. We’ll put meat loaf on hold for a couple of days, all right?”
“Monday?” He squinted at the apple-themed wall calendar. “You sure?”
“Absolutely, and we had a good opening weekend, so I got your favorite hot dogs this morning, and some of those soft rolls you like so much.”
“With the yellow mustard?” The gruff note of his voice suggested that hot dogs couldn’t quite replace the meat loaf he had his heart set on.
“The yellowest.”
Just a few months ago, he’d have shrugged off the change and been delighted that she’d gotten one of his favorites.
Not today.
Chin down, he trudged back to the living room and sank into his recliner like a small child denied a treat.
“How can I help?”
Jax’s voice made her turn. “Have hot dogs with us. Pretend things are normal, because I’m going to be honest. I love how busy the apple stand is, but between Gramps and—” she paused a moment to choke back emotion before she went on “—his decline, I’m drained. I’d love some grown-up support tonight. If you don’t mind? And what did you want to talk about?” she asked as she slung her sweater onto a short rack of hooks hanging inside the kitchen door.
“Nothing we have to discuss tonight,” he told her. “We’ll tackle it tomorrow.”
“Good.” She sent him a tired smile. “Because the last thing I want to do is upset his applecart any more than it already is.” She angled a look toward the living room. “When he’s like this, the best thing to do is lie low for a bit.”
“Grandma Molly was the same way. Can I fire up the grill on the back porch?”
“Yes, thanks.” She tried to hide her excitement, because Gramps had an old-fashioned charcoal grill. Taking the time to get it started and let coals form was way too long. “He loves hot dogs on the grill. Thank you, Jax.”
He grabbed a pack of matches and crossed to the door. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Strong. Kind. Honest. A man of valor.
She’d promised herself to steer clear of men and romance for a good reason, but reason flew out the window whenever Jax walked through the door. Maybe she’d walled herself up too much after a really bad experience. She wasn’t a foolish nineteen-year-old anymore. She’d grown up these past seven years, and she was no moonstruck girl falling for pretty words. She was a woman, able to appreciate a good man when she found one.
So maybe she was wrong to set such firm borders because when she was around Jax McClaren, borders were the last thing on her mind.
Chapter Sixteen
Jax didn’t doze off early enough for his sleep to be interrupted by nightmares that night. Guilt kept him awake. His last glimpse of the clock said 2:05 a.m., so the six o’clock alarm was a rude awakening. But not as gut-wrenching as what Libby was going to experience today, so he cleaned up, shaved and made coffee. Then headed downhill to confront Libby with his father’s news.
Would she even talk with him once she discovered his identity? Would she want him around?
Especially when she realized her farm might have been sold out from under her.
He pulled in just before the morning bus came. CeeCee waited until he parked the truck, then tossed her backpack to the ground and raced his way. “Good morning, Mr. Jax! Isn’t it a beautiful day? Like, the best day ever?”
He’d give anything to see things through her eyes right now. “I can’t deny it,” he told her as he hoisted her up. “Are you ready to go to school and help your friends Denry and Hottie?”
She burst out laughing as she corrected him. “Henry and Dottie! You’re so funny, Mr. Jax. I love you!”
Then she reached over and hugged him, right before she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. She held on t
o him as if he were important, and for those few seconds, he felt like he was.
“Bus is coming,” called Libby.
“Yikes!” CeeCee grinned at him, scrambled down, grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulders like an old pro. “See you later, guys!” She waved as she hurried toward the road, quite comfortable with this new normal. “Have a great day on the farm!”
“You have a great day in school,” Libby answered. She waved to CeeCee and Gert, then waved to the kids in the window seats. Most of the older kids acted too cool to respond, but a few of the younger ones waved avidly.
As the bus pulled away, she turned toward him. “Well, you got an enthusiastic greeting this morning. And a kiss.”
Two things he probably didn’t deserve, but CeeCee had no idea about that. Neither did her sweet mother. “She’s an amazing kid, Libby.”
“She is, isn’t she? And I’m blessed to be her mom. To have the chance to do all this for her, despite the past. To see her go off like that, so happy and well-adjusted, and to see how excited she was when some of her classmates showed up at the apple store this past weekend.” Remembering the kids’ positive reaction deepened her smile. “It was amazing to see the change in their attitudes from kids who thought we were homeless a few weeks ago, to kids who realized that CeeCee has a pretty amazing life here.”
“Why would they think you were homeless?” he asked.
She drew a deep breath as the two pickers drove in and parked. They needed no direction today. They waved and headed straight for the newer section of apples.
“Because we were homeless,” she admitted. “When CeeCee’s father took off, he emptied our accounts. I was working, but there was no way I could afford rent, food, gas and to pay off the bills he left behind. The cost of living in the Seattle area is steep. CeeCee talked about that at school, so some of the kids thought she didn’t have a place to live.”
She’d been homeless and struggling for food. Other than a few occasions on active duty, he’d never had to miss a meal in his life. An urge to care for her, to care for both of them surged over him, and yet he was here to mess up her newfound security. The image of them struggling made him cringe. “I’m sorry you went through that. I had no idea.”
“At that same time Grandma called me with her prognosis and said they needed help.” She paused for a moment, taking a breath. “She didn’t know we were homeless. She thought I was ashamed of them and that’s why I didn’t drive back here to see them. The truth was that I stayed gone because I was ashamed of my choices. My life. Skillful abusers excel at cutting people off from those who love them, and making you feel isolated, abandoned. But when things got rough for her and Gramps, she called because she always believed that family should stick together, and I’m so glad she did that. It gave CeeCee and me a home, and I was able to help Grandma through her illness. Now we’ll do the same for Gramps, although it’s going to be hard on CeeCee. How does a five-year-old deal with two deaths so close together?”
“It’s tough,” he told her. “I was seven when we lost my mother. My grandmother raised me and my brothers while Dad worked. For a long time I hated to get up every day, knowing I’d never see my mom again. To this day I’m thankful for Grandma Molly’s sacrifice. She stepped in and loved us all. I don’t know what we would have done without her.”
She touched his arm in sympathy. “That’s why you’re so understanding. I decided that the best example I can set for CeeCee is to be loving and giving in times of hardship. If I live my life that way, she’ll learn it instinctively. Sometimes life lessons are the best teachers and I learned that from my grandmother.”
She’d been through so much the past few years. How could he put her through more? And yet, he had no choice. He jutted his chin toward the house. “Is Cleve awake?”
She nodded. “For hours. And thank you for those locks or he’d have been wandering at five o’clock this morning. He couldn’t figure out how to get the door open, and finally he grumbled something about the trees and went back to bed.”
“He doesn’t think to look down, but if he spots CeeCee doing it, he might figure it out.”
“I reminded her of that this morning.” She tapped the side door as they went inside. “This door is out of sight from his chair, and the front door is a keyed dead bolt and Gramps doesn’t have the key. So far, so good. What do we need to discuss?” she continued. She motioned outside. “Something to do with the barn?”
He only wished it was that easy. “No. Let’s talk in the kitchen so we can hear Cleve if he needs us.”
“And have coffee.” She shot him an over-the-shoulder smile that spiked his heart rhythm, but he knew the smile would be short-lived and there was nothing he could do about that. He went into the living room to greet Cleve while she fixed her coffee. She brought it to the table as he reentered the kitchen a few minutes later. “You sure you don’t want any?” she asked.
“I’m sure. But thank you.” He hooked his thumb toward the living room. “Cleve’s watching a nature show on cable.”
“He loves those things. He’ll find one thing extremely intriguing and focus on it, then follow me around to tell me about it dozens of times.”
He remembered his grandmother’s repetitive stories. “Like a video stuck on replay.”
“Yes.” She took a seat. “So what’s going on?”
His heart sped up. His hands grew damp, but he took a seat opposite her and set the folder on the table. “A few things, and I have to preface this by being honest with you. Honest about who I am and why I’m here. My name isn’t just Jax McClaren, Libby.” He drew a deep breath, swiped his palms against his jeans, and waded in. “It’s Jackson McClaren Ingerson, and I’m part of CVF. And in this folder is a contract that Cleve signed and dated in August, agreeing to sell O’Laughlin Orchards to CVF. It arrived on my father’s desk yesterday and we have to figure out some way to fix this, Libby. Hopefully together.”
* * *
Her heart literally stopped beating.
She couldn’t have heard him correctly, and yet, he sat there, looking so utterly sincere, confessing he’d been living a lie these past weeks. Her tongue didn’t want to obey her brain and it took her long seconds before she could wrap her head around his statement. “You’re an Ingerson.”
“Yes.”
“And you just happened to come along one day and there was an old man out wandering the road—”
“You know that. Yes.”
“And you just happened to stop and then ingratiate yourself to my family and friends...”
“Libby, it wasn’t like that,” he began, but she held up a hand for him to stop.
“Don’t. Don’t sit there and tell me what it was or wasn’t like because you’ve been dishonest from the beginning. There’s no way in the world I’m going to believe anything you say now.” Cold chills ran up her spine and down her arms.
He’d lied to her. All this time. After she promised herself she’d never let another man fool her.
She’d let him into the house, into their lives, into their affections, and he’d played her every step of the way. Hadn’t she just prided herself on being more astute, more mature?
How could one intelligent woman be so gullible? Was she that needy for someone to love her?
Her heart broke. It didn’t just break in half, it shattered into a million frozen pieces because she’d promised herself to remain aloof, then fell for another con man. Well, add it to the list, sugar.
That was what her brain said. Her heart was too dumbstruck to say a thing.
“We have to fix this,” he told her. He opened the folder on the table. “My father and brother met with me yesterday when they received this. Look at it, Libby.” He handed her the top two forms. “It’s the land sale contract they left here midsummer. It’s signed and dated in early August. I don’t know why Cleve would throw our
representative out on his ear one minute, then sign the agreement and shelve it, but we had to tell you about it.”
She stood up.
She couldn’t sit there and casually drink coffee while he was about to acquire a beautiful piece of O’Laughlin family history that she’d always assumed would be hers.
He stood, too. “Listen, my father’s a good man.”
At this moment, she didn’t care. “He might be, but he’s also a businessman, and he’s been wanting this farm for years, according to Grandma. Congratulations, Jackson.” She folded her arms over her chest to fight off the tears that threatened to take over. “You’ve done it. I don’t know how you managed it, but you did and I’m not about to put a sick old man through the wringer to fight you on it, and I expect you knew that.”
“Libby, don’t—”
“Go.”
He started to come around the table. “It wasn’t like that. None of it. I—”
“Please stop.” She kept her arms folded, but she met his gaze head-on because she’d been put through the wringer once. It wasn’t going to happen again. “I can’t possibly believe all these things happened by chance. That you happened to be driving by at the very moment the barn blew down and Gramps was walking down the road and there you were, all knight-in-shining-armor friendly, ready to jump in and help with everything. And you did it so smoothly that I’m relatively certain you’ve had lots of practice because the odds against something like this are beyond astronomical. So, go. Leave me a copy of your signed contract and I’ll make sure that everything is in order before we move out. Do we have time to finish the selling season, or would you prefer that we leave the income potential for you, too?”
“I was just coming out for another cuppa because that first one was so good.” Cleve strolled into the kitchen right then and he beamed at one, then the other. “My Carolyn enjoyed having coffee with me in this kitchen. It does my heart good to see you young ones doing the same. This room’s held a lot of love over the years.” He smiled, sighed and crossed to the coffee pot. “It’s got space for more, I reckon.”
A Hopeful Harvest (Golden Grove Book 1) Page 14
