by Kat Brookes
Addy glanced toward the orchard.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “My inability to do those things isn’t your doing.”
Her gaze shifted back to Jake and then dropped down to his chair. He could see the wheels turning. Addy was a problem solver. Only some problems couldn’t be solved. His injuries wouldn’t heal any sooner just by her wishing it so.
“I can.”
Jake’s brows drew together in puzzlement. “Excuse me?”
“I can make it happen,” she replied determinedly as she reached down to unlock the brakes on his wheelchair. Then she promptly stepped behind the chair and turned him toward the door.
“Addy, what are you doing?”
“Giving you what you need,” she replied as she pushed him back inside. “An outing in the orchard.” She guided him, broken leg extended, carefully through the house and into the kitchen.
He didn’t have to ask to know where she was headed. Mason had built a temporary ramp off the back porch, making it easier to get Jake to any vehicle. Not that Jake had ventured out much. A doctor’s appointment here. Physical therapy appointment there. And once out to see how Mason’s new house was coming along. But pushing a grown man in a wheelchair across the softer ground of the backyard was no easy task. Definitely one he wanted to spare anyone having to do on his account.
“Addy...” he said as she opened the door leading to the back porch.
She paused to look his way.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but—”
“But nothing,” she countered stubbornly as she moved to turn his chair around, backing them both out onto the porch. “You need this, and I intend to give it to you.”
“You don’t understand,” he argued. “It’s not easy pushing this thing around in the grass. Especially with a man who’s six feet tall, two hundred pounds, sitting in it. Even Mason has to put some effort into it.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she told him as she eased his chair down the ramp and onto the freshly mown grass. “I am a pastry chef, after all. That means I’ve stirred, or kneaded, countless bowls of batter and dough by hand many times over the years. A little bit of grass isn’t going to stop me.”
“Evidently not,” he muttered with a shake of his head. Addy was determined if anything. And when she set her mind to something, she made it happen. He had always admired that in her. Admittedly, he still did. Jake’s gaze drifted over to rest longingly on the tree line of the nearby orchard.
“Wheelchair or ATV?” she asked.
He craned his neck around to look up at her. “What?”
“To venture through the orchards in,” she clarified. “Now choose one or the other or I’ll do it for you. It’s far too beautiful out this morning not to take advantage of the perfect weather.”
A slight grin tugged at Jake’s mouth. “Are you this bossy with everyone you know, or just those who are left at your mercy?”
She smiled. “Only when it’s for the better of someone I care about. So what is it, Jake? Wheelchair or ATV?”
She wanted to take him around the orchard in the Gator? He chuckled. “Have you ever driven an ATV?” Those few times she’d come back to visit, he had been the one to drive them around. And he highly doubted she would have had much chance to drive an ATV around while living in Atlanta.
“No,” she admitted. “But I’m a fast learner.”
He grinned, feeling a bit of his lightheartedness return. “Now this I’d like to see.”
“You’re on,” she said excitedly. Turning his chair, they headed for the pole barn where the mowers and ATVs had always been kept.
A few minutes later, they were seated in Jake’s Gator. He and both of his siblings each used their ATVs to traverse the property and, in his and Mason’s case, check on the orchards.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “I mean, this isn’t like running a hand mixer. We might both end up in a wheelchair.”
“I’ll have you know, a hand mixer takes a certain amount of skill to use properly. There are different speeds for a reason.” She gave the front of the ATV a quick looking over. “Let’s see. A steering wheel. A gearshift on the floor between the seats. A gas pedal and a brake. Looks doable.”
“Ready when you are,” he said, easing back in the seat, his casted leg stretched out in front of him.
“One sec,” Addy replied as she leaned across him to grab for his seat belt. “Since I know you won’t ask for help.” She buckled him in and then sat back with a smile. “Safety first.”
“I appreciate your taking such good care of me. Now let’s see what you can do,” he said with a nod.
She put the Gator into gear and eased it out of the building, Jake’s wheelchair placed securely inside the rear cargo box in case they broke down or decided to get out for a bit somewhere along the way.
“This isn’t Sunday,” Jake muttered.
Addy looked his way. “Excuse me?”
“You’re driving this thing like you’re out for a leisurely Sunday drive,” he told her with a grin. “In case you missed it, we were just passed by a three-legged turtle.”
She arched a slender, dark brow. “A three-legged turtle?”
He gave a slight shrug. “It might have had four legs. It went by us too fast to really know for sure.”
Addy let out a soft snort of laughter. “Well, we certainly can’t have that happening again.” As they turned onto one of the worn paths between a row of peach trees, she pressed down on the gas pedal, and the ATV picked up speed. “Better?” she asked, glancing his way.
He chuckled. “Better.” Thankfully, the ground between the rows of peach trees was mostly smooth, having been walked and driven on for more than fifty years. “Take a right up here,” Jake instructed as they approached an intersection in the orchard. “I’d like to take a look at the newer crop we put in behind Mrs. Tully’s place. It’s part of our orchard’s future.”
“It looked to be thriving when I took a walk through it the other day,” she told him. “Not that I’m an expert on peach trees. Peaches are a different story. When I worked for The Cozy Stay Inn, I would make all sorts of specialty pastries using them. Some were ones your momma taught me how to make.”
Jake looked her way. “When?”
* * *
Addy looked Jake’s way in confusion. “What?”
“You said when you worked for The Cozy Stay Inn,” he pointed out. “I didn’t realize you had left there. Momma never said anything about you going to work elsewhere.”
Her smile fell away.
“Addy?” he pressed with a worried frown.
She looked away, fixing her gaze on the wide dirt and grass path ahead. “The hotel was recently bought out. We were all let go.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The apology sounded genuine, compassion she wasn’t sure she deserved from him. She shrugged, trying not to let him see how deeply that had affected her. “I’m trying to look at the bright side,” she told him. “It’s freed me up to come back here to Sweet Springs and stay for much longer than I had originally intended to. I get to spend even more time with the people I care about, including helping Lila with any wedding plans she needs my help with. And, lastly, it’ll give me a chance to really focus on the cookbook I’m working on. Maybe I’ll even have it up for sale before Thanksgiving.”
“You think it’ll be ready to go that soon?” he asked. “Not that I know anything about publishing books.”
“There’s a good chance,” she said with a nod, feeling that familiar surge of excitement that came whenever she thought about her project.
“I always thought publication was a lengthy process.”
“It can be if you’re going through traditional means. I’m not. I’ll be self-publishing the book myself, which will allo
w me to put it up for sale as soon as I have it ready to go. The cover’s already been created, and I’ve been taking pictures of the finished recipes to insert at the top of each recipe’s page, just above the ingredient list and instructions inside the cookbook.”
“Sounds like you’ve got things well under control,” he acknowledged with a nod.
“I hope so,” she said. “If the cookbook’s a success, I intend to put a second one together. Which is why I’m still continuing to create and test new recipes.”
“Will they both be dessert cookbooks?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested, much to Addy’s surprise.
“This first one will be. Each dessert or pastry will be published with two recipe options. The first will be more simplified, for those on a tighter budget. The second will have a few added specialty ingredients for those wanting to be a little more adventurous with their recipe. The second cookbook I’m still debating on. Possibly an offering of dessert, appetizer and meal recipes.” Addy caught herself and felt warmth fill her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m needlessly rambling on.”
“No reason to apologize,” he told her. “It’s interesting. I’ve never known anyone who published, or even planned to publish, a book before. What made you decide to go it on your own?”
Recognizing where they were, Addy eased up on the gas. Another turn put them on the path that ran between the first and second row of peach trees behind Mama Tully’s house. “I wanted more control over my cookbook content, its cover and the earnings it will hopefully bring in. I intend to donate a portion of the sales to an Atlanta-based charity I’ve contributed to in the past that helps single mothers who are going through hard times.”
“A cause that touches close to home,” he acknowledged.
“Yes,” she said, unable to keep the emotion it stirred from her voice.
He glanced her way. “Things might not be where they once were between us, but I still wish you success with that endeavor.”
“I appreciate that,” she said, desperately missing their friendship. But she knew that forgiveness was something that couldn’t be forced. If, and when, it came, it would be when Jake was ready. No sooner.
“Uncle Jake!”
Their gazes were drawn to Finn. He was making a beeline through Mama Tully’s backyard. Grits and Honey were chasing after him, barking excitedly.
Addy brought the ATV to a stop and cut the engine. There was no missing the joy that spread across Jake’s face at the sight of his nephew.
The dogs shot out around Finn, beating him to the vehicle. “Careful,” Addy gasped as the pups jumped up at Jake, demanding his attention.
“They’re fine,” he assured her with a chuckle as he reached out to give each dog a quick scratch behind the ear.
“But your broken leg...”
“Is tucked safely away inside the Gator,” he pointed out.
Finn moved to stand beside the all-terrain vehicle. “How come Aunt Addy is driving you around?”
“Because my right leg’s in a cast,” Jake explained. “Makes it a little hard to operate the gas pedal and brake.”
“I could drive you around,” Finn offered.
“I might have to take you up on that offer,” Jake replied with a smile.
“What’s your momma up to?” Addy asked.
“She ran into town to get Gramma Tully some things from the grocery store.” He looked to Jake. “Will you be coming out of the house now? Momma said you would once you started feeling better. I’ve really missed you.”
Jake winced, and Addy knew it wasn’t from pain. “I’ve missed you, too. I have a feeling your aunt Addy will be getting me out more often,” he said with a glance in her direction. “We’ll make sure to stop by to see you when we’re out and about.”
“Really?” he asked in surprise.
Jake nodded his reply.
Addy understood Finn’s surprise. Jake had pretty much shut himself off from everyone after coming home. Earlier on the porch, she’d worried that Jake might be getting pulled back into the emotional darkness he’d been in when he’d first come home. Lila had told Addy about it so that she would be mentally prepared when she began spending time with Jake. But during their outing that morning, it had been as if new life had been breathed into him.
Grits, not fond of standing still, barked with impatience. Honey followed suit and then attempted to wrest the rubber ball Finn was holding from his grasp.
“Hey!” Finn said as he raised his hand out of the smaller dog’s reach. “You have to wait until I throw it.”
Jake chuckled. “We’d best let you get back to playing ball with these two.”
“But you just got here,” his nephew whined.
“I know,” Jake replied. “But I’ll be seeing more of you now that I’m healing up.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Time to go,” Addy told them. “We don’t want your uncle Jake overdoing it today. I gave my word to your gramma Landers to take care of him while she’s working at the market.”
Finn backed away from the ATV as Addy started the engine.
“See you at dinner,” she told him with a smile.
With a quick wave, he turned and raced off toward the house with the dogs.
Jake turned to find Addy smiling at him. “What?”
She put the ATV in gear and turned it around so they could make their way back. “You do realize that while you weren’t stuck with me before, you are now.”
Confusion knit his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Finn’s going to be counting on me to get you out of the house and over to see him since you told him I would. So we’ll be doing this again, because I have never, and will not ever, let that little boy down.”
When her words were met with silence, Addy glanced Jake’s way. The smile he’d been sporting when they’d stopped to talk to Finn was gone. He was looking straight ahead, lips pressed firmly together.
Had their outing proven to be too much for him, and he’d sought to hide it behind a smile for Finn? “Jake? Are you in pain?”
“No.”
She forced her focus back onto the path ahead when she’d rather it have been on Jake instead. Had stubbornness and pride kept him from telling her he was hurting? “If you’ve overdone things today, it’s okay,” she assured him. “You’re going to get stronger with each passing day. We’ll just take shorter rides for our next few outings.”
No response.
Addy slowed the ATV and looked to Jake. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
He glanced her way, something akin to anger sparking in his eyes. “It’s best if I don’t say anything right now.”
“If it’s something I said or did...” she began, feeling confused by the sudden change in Jake’s mood.
“All of the above,” he said in a low growl. “You say there’s no way you’d ever let Finn down, but isn’t that exactly what you did keeping him from his daddy? From all of us?”
There was no denying the truth of his statement.
“I’ve tried, but I don’t think I can ever get past that,” Jake went on with a shake of his head, sparing her the need for a response to that accusatory question.
Her heart suddenly felt weighted down. Just when she’d allowed herself to have a sense of hope where her and Jake’s friendship was concerned. That past week they had shared moments of teasing and laughter. Easy conversation. Smiles. And with just a few innocently spoken words, any of the headway she’d made with Jake was no more.
“I understand,” Addy replied sadly. “But there’s no changing the past. Even if I wanted to.”
They drove the remainder of the way back to the house in uncomfortable silence. Jake settled himself into his wheelchair, and then Addy pushed him up the ramp to the back porch a
nd into the house. Maybe they could talk things through.
She came to a stop in the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m tired,” he muttered. “I think I’ll rest for a few hours. No need for you to stick around. Or come back tomorrow.”
She didn’t have to hear him say the words or at all. She’d heard them loud and clear. Addy fought back tears. She would not cry. Doing so wouldn’t change anything. That was a lesson she’d learned as a very young child. All she could do was respect Jake’s feelings where she was concerned. “Of course. Let’s get you to your room.” Grasping the handles at the back of his chair, she wheeled him to his room.
“I can handle it from here,” he said the moment his chair cleared the bedroom doorway.
He was sending her away—again. Addy nodded in understanding, her heart pinching slightly. But she wasn’t going to give up. Jake had cracked the door open. Now it was up to her to open it all the way.
Releasing the handle grips, Addy stepped back into the hallway. “Goodbye, Jake.” Without waiting for a reply, she pulled the door closed and walked away. She would let his momma know that she felt it was for the best if she stayed away from Jake for the time being. Possibly forever, if that’s what it took for him to be happy.
Chapter Five
“I still can’t decide on which cake knife and server set to order for our reception,” Lila said with a troubled frown as she scrolled down the internet page.
“Why not?” Mama Tully asked as she sat putting the monogrammed address labels Lila had ordered onto the reply envelopes.
“None of them feel special,” she replied with a sigh. “I’m not a rhinestone kind of girl. The camo-handled set doesn’t quite go with the simple lace and pastels. I suppose I could go with one of the plain silver sets. It’s not like I’ll be using it again after we cut our cake.”
“I thought you were supposed to use it to cut the top of your cake that you’ll keep in the freezer until your one-year anniversary,” Addy muttered as she wove some pale pink ribbon in and out of the openings around the edge of an antique white doily. “Not that I’m an expert.”
