The Secret Son

by Joan Kilby

  “Impressive.” His marketing brain immediately started to wonder how the Jacksons could get their product into overseas markets. Weren’t the Japanese big on cherries? Again, he held his tongue. Their business was nothing to do with him.

  “My dad and I run the orchard together—when he’s not at his realty office, that is. He had to take a couple days off everything recently. Work is piling up.” Will moved to a makeshift office tucked in a corner with a cluttered noticeboard, a desk with a computer surrounded by a sea of paper and an overflowing In Tray.

  “I can see you’re swamped with your father away.” Alex had no idea his father’s cherry orchard was so big. Despite the extra work, Will was clearly proud of their business and rightly so.

  “There are spare coveralls hanging in the locker room through that door,” Will went on. “The cold room is next to that. Sometimes we have to store the cherries for a day or two before they can be shipped. Showers and toilets are in the concrete building behind this shed next to the workers’ units if you want to wash up before you leave.” While he spoke he fished a form out of the filing cabinet in the corner next to the desk and handed it to Alex along with a pen. “Fill this in—address, social security number, etc. Have a seat if you want.”

  Alex sat down, pushed aside a stack of bills and started filling out the form. Emma and Will drifted a short distance away. Will leaned on the hopper. Emma shoved her hands in the pockets of her coveralls and frowned up at him. Even though they were speaking in low voices Alex couldn’t help but overhear.

  “How is your dad?” Emma asked. “Your mom didn’t tell me much when I called earlier but she seemed worried. What’s this about him getting medical tests? Why did he go all the way to Billings?”

  “He’s been having chest pains and was short of breath. His GP referred him to a cardiologist in Billings. Mom wanted to go with him but with the festival coming up and the harvest, she needs to be here.”

  Alex’s hand paused and he tilted his head, his ears straining to listen. Chest pains. Cardiologist. Shit. He hadn’t seriously expected his hunch to be right.

  “What’s wrong?” Emma asked. “Is it critical?”

  “Nah. He’s stressed over the harvest being delayed. He does too much, what with the realty business, the orchard and being president of the cherry growers’ association. And of course the festival takes another chunk of his time. He’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so. Anything I can do to help, you know that, right?”

  “Yeah, thanks. We appreciate it. I’ve taken over running the orchard. Mom is doing the website. Taylor and Jodi have both come home to help out.”

  “I’ll pick, too.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that. This is your vacation.”

  “I don’t mind, honestly. Your family has done so much for me over the years.”

  “Well, great. You could show our new friend the ropes if you like.”

  Silence from Emma. Alex bit back a dry smile. She must really be happy with that suggestion. He’d rather help with the website or give advice on marketing. That was his field, after all. But they wouldn’t allow a stranger to do that. He picked up his completed form and walked over to hand it to Will. “All done.”

  “I’ll get started sampling,” Emma said, taking a step away. “Will, I’ll talk to you later about what I find.” Her gaze transferred to Alex. “See you tomorrow at dawn, Slick. We’ll see what you’re made of then.”

  His gaze followed her as she walked across the yard and plunged into the cool green of the orchard. “Is she serious about dawn? I don’t even know what time that is.”

  “She’ll be here at dawn,” Will said with a smile. “But that’s Emma, she goes all out. Everyone else starts at seven a.m. Meet here at the shed.”

  “Okay. See you then.” Alex shook hands again then hesitated, wishing there was something more he could say. Condolences on his father—their—father. Ask for more information, about his dad’s condition and about the past. But he could do none of that, not and maintain his cover. Now that he’d signed up to pick, he couldn’t even go to Billings and sit by his father’s bedside. What had he gotten himself into? And what was his father going to say when he discovered Alex had passed himself off as a cherry picker and insinuated himself into his family’s life. Would he be glad to see him or pissed off? For that matter, what kind of a man was his father?

  All these questions plaguing him. How would Will and Linda feel when they discovered he’d misled them? When they learned Robert had either lied or withheld information from them about a secret son. Did Linda even know he’d lived with another woman? Alex might harbor anger and resentment toward his father but even so, he didn’t want to destroy his father’s current life, or upset innocent people.

  Up until this morning he hadn’t even considered what his father’s life was like. Or that he needed to rethink his own. Or that his journey would detour to the unlikely town of Cherry Lake.

  Chapter Three

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  Emma strode into the orchard, forcing herself not to glance over her shoulder for a last glimpse of Alex. She’d thought she was immune to good-looking guys, especially smart asses. But when he’d looked into her eyes, his suggestive remark about what was under her coveralls still echoing in her ears…boom, all her self-preservation techniques had flown out the window.

  She still wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. One second she was giving him a hard time—which he’d brushed off—the next his dark eyes swallowed her up and her stomach quivered the way it did just before she let go of the rope swing and went flying out over the lake. His hint of a smile playing around his firm, well-defined mouth had mesmerized her, like a deer in the headlights. All she could think about was what it would be like to kiss him….

  She tore a leaf off a low-hanging branch and flung it away. He was a smooth operator. She’d seen that from the beginning. Just because she was susceptible to his charms didn’t mean she couldn’t see through him. She should have called his bluff, opened her coverall and shown him her plain cotton bra in faded pink. Hah. That might have put him off for good. Except that she knew he wasn’t seriously interested, not really. He’d simply been trying to fluster her. Men like Alex—rich, over-groomed, entitled—weren’t interested in Plain Janes like her, still a tomboy at twenty-eight years old. Oh, she had a strong sense of her own self-worth but her strengths weren’t in the looks department—not like Zoe who was literally a beauty queen. Alex was the kind of man who went for women who wore designer dresses and high heels. She owned a pair of heels but they were collecting dust at the back of her closet. Mainly, she wore sensible shoes.

  What was he doing in Cherry Lake? He’d stopped to look at the Jackson’s place on his way into town. And then, not two hours later, he was signing up to pick cherries. It didn’t add up. Who cared? He’d made it very clear he wasn’t staying around town for long. Hardly surprising. His kind never did.

  She lengthened her stride until she was deep into the orchard and the shed was just a distant sliver of silver between tree trunks. Then she set her sampling case on the grass in the shade. Out came a dozen sampling bottles containing pheromones, chemicals to attract any fruit flies nearby, which she hung on the lower limbs.

  Then she slung a small net bag over her shoulder, reached for the highest branch she could grab, then swung a leg up to a lower limb. Pausing in her climb mid-way up the leafy branches she reached for a cluster of luscious red cherries still warm from the sun. She put one in her sample bag and inspected the other two for tiny holes that were a sign of fruit fly egg deposits. Finding none, she ate them. Juicy, sweet and crisp. Purple juice dripped down her fingers. Mm, yum. Surely this was the best job in the world.

  She picked more cherries at random, selecting one or two per branch until she had thirty cherries in her bag. Then she climbed down and got out her hand lens and notebook to inspect the cherries and record her findings. Sitting in the shade, her back against the tree trunk, green grass
beneath her and green leaves overhead, she breathed in the scents of summer. A gentle breeze kept the heat bearable.

  She hoped Robert was going to be okay. He’d been a fixture in her life for as long as she could remember, a surrogate father after her parents’ divorce. She was always hanging around the Jackson place because in the old days Mom had to work two jobs. He and Linda had been good to her, treating her like one of their own children. She couldn’t do anything about Gram and Gramps house until she talked to Robert. If he was up to a business discussion, that is. No way did she want to add to his stress.

  Her thoughts drifted back to Alex. Was it her imagination or had he tensed up when he’d been introduced to Will? Which was strange because Will was the most easy-going guy ever. Come to think of it, Alex had seemed on edge the whole time. Except when he’d been flirting with her. Flirting? Or trying to distract her and keep her off guard so she didn’t ask him difficult questions? He definitely brought out the snark in her. And yet, at the same time as she wanted to cut him down to size, she was attracted. And intrigued. Who was he really, and why was he here?

  This batch of cherries was one hundred percent clean. Will would be pleased. But her findings wouldn’t be conclusive until she’d checked more trees. She walked farther into the orchard, sampling trees at random. All were free of fruit flies. One more should do it. She walked a few rows over, deeper into the orchard. And stopped dead. Alex was standing in the middle of the orchard, hands in the pockets of his shorts, looking up at the branches. From the expression on his face he was a million miles away. Maybe it was the dappled light through the leaves but he looked very young, a little lost, and kind of vulnerable. She almost tiptoed away again when his gaze shifted and he saw her.

  “Hey,” she said, walking over. “What are you doing here?”

  “I took the other lane, back to the side road, and then I don’t know, I just felt like checking out the orchard.” He straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “Just wondering how fast cherry trees grow in say, twenty-five years. What this part of the orchard would have looked like back then.”

  Well, that was unexpected. “These trees are thirty years old, pretty much near the end of their productive life. Twenty-five years ago they would have been the same height because they’re kept pruned but they would have been smaller in girth.” She hesitated. “Why, have you been here before?”

  He glanced at her sharply. “No, why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know, just a thought. Sheesh, don’t get all bent out of shape.”

  He blew out a sigh. “It’s been a long day. So what happens when the trees stop producing?”

  “They get replaced. Not the whole orchard at once, different sections at a time.” She tilted her head, frowning. “Are you seriously interested in cherry production?”

  “I spent an afternoon in an orchard like this once when I was a kid. It made an impression on me.” He nodded to her bucket and sampling case. “What did you find out about the fruit flies?”

  “The orchard is clean. Which is great news. Any infestation right at harvest would make the cherries unmarketable.” She chose the word deliberately so he would understand.

  “Good to hear.” He plucked a leaf out of her hair then used it to tickle under her chin. “Do you always take your work home with you?”

  She batted his hand away, trying not to smile. Damn it, she was resistant to charm. She felt her head in case there were more leaves. Her braids were coming undone and her hair must be sticking up on top. Looking down she saw she had cherry and grass stains all over her overalls. Oh, yeah, Alex would totally flirt with her. Not.

  Drawing herself up, she said, “Why did you come to Cherry Lake? Are you planning to buy an orchard for an investment?”

  His dark eyebrows rose. “Do people do that?”

  “Sometimes. Absentee landowners aren’t favorites around here, though.”

  “No, I’m not going to buy an orchard.”

  “Are you a lawyer? Because you are good at talking in circles.”

  “I’m not a lawyer. You heard me tell Will I’m in marketing.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you care what I do?”

  “I don’t.” Giving up on getting a straight answer about his reasons for being in Cherry Lake, she handed him the bucket. “Would you mind passing this up to me? It’s easier to climb without it.” Hooking a foot in the crook of the tree, she swung her other leg up then reached down for the bucket. When she had it slung over her arm she moved to a higher branch. She picked in silence, counting until she had enough cherries. Then she made her way back down the tree to the first cleft in the trunk.

  Alex took the bucket and set it in the grass, making sure it was steady and didn’t tip over. But he stood right next to the tree, in the way of her getting down. She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, can you move?”

  Instead of moving, he grabbed the branch above her head and leaned closer. “Tell me about this festival.”

  “It’s great. Old-fashioned but a lot of fun. I help Linda with the stall. We sell all sorts of cherry products including pie.”

  “Cherry pie is my favorite. You’ll have to sell me one you made.” His slow smile made her stomach do a funny little flip.

  “If you’re still here by the weekend.”

  He nodded, conceding he might not be.

  “Anyway, I don’t bake,” Emma added. “Not a domestic bone in my body, I’m afraid.”

  “Really? I would have taken you as a preserver of fruit and maker of home-made yogurt.”

  “I preserve fruit flies in formaldehyde. Not that good on toast, though.” She was rewarded by a throaty chuckle. Goddamn if she wasn’t staring into his eyes again.

  His gaze fell to her mouth. “Your lips are red from eating cherries.”

  She cast about for some smart remark and couldn’t think of a thing to say. Then she saw Will’s HiLux come to a halt on the grassy track at the end of the rows. “I should go tell Will my findings. He’ll be wondering.”

  Alex followed the direction of her gaze and his expression clouded. “He seems like a good guy, if a little tense.”

  “Ordinarily Will’s really laid back but right now he’s a little anxious because of the rain and the picker situation.” Emma frowned. “And some personal issues.”

  “Understandable to be anxious when a year’s income must ride on only a few weeks.” Alex moved away from the tree. “By personal issues do you mean his father? I couldn’t help overhearing.”

  Emma swung down, bending her knees to land in the grass. “If anything happened to Robert the family would be devastated. Extended family, too. As well as the whole community. He’s well loved in Cherry Lake.”

  “Must be a great guy.” A shadow, like pain, passed across Alex’s eyes, so fleeting she wasn’t positive she’d seen it. That dappled light again. “Small town like this, a man’s life must be an open book. No secrets. Everyone knowing everything there is to know about each other.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She dusted off her pant legs. “I know a few secrets that aren’t general knowledge in Cherry Lake.”

  “Interesting. Tell me.” The serious note was gone and he was teasing again.

  “Not on your life. Then they wouldn’t be secrets. Anyway, it’s just dumb stuff. High school pranks.”

  “Not about Robert, then?”

  She glanced up sharply. “You keep coming back to him.”

  He shrugged. “You brought him up.”

  Had she? She couldn’t remember. Alex was good at deflecting the conversation. She picked up her bucket and sampling case and started toward Will’s truck. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Me, too.” Alex took a step in the opposite direction. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Are you actually going to show up to pick?”

  “I am.” He pointed two fingers at her like guns. “Dawn. Be there.”

  She walked away wearing a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face. God, what was she,
fourteen? Was she really such a sucker for a sexy smile? Don’t look back. By the time she got to Will she had her smile under control. “Good news. No fruit flies detected. I’ll keep an eye on it, though.”

  “Excellent.” His gaze flicked to Alex. “That new guy wasn’t giving you any trouble, was he?”

  “No, he was just curious about what I was doing.”

  “Why was he in the orchard? I thought he’d left.”

  “He was just looking around. Not doing any harm.”

  “He seems okay but I’d stay away from him if I were you. I know his type. Blows into town, breaks a few hearts and before you know he’s gone again.”

  “God, Will, I’ve spoken to him, like, twice. I’m a big girl now. Don’t pull this big brother act every time I talk to a guy.” Yes, she was overreacting, and yes, he was right. She knew the downside of getting involved with pickers. They always moved on eventually. Anyway the jury was still out on Alex. As far as she was concerned, he was one big unanswered question. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told him she was a curious type. When she couldn’t figure out a problem she worried it to death until she did.

  “Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “Settle down or I might think you’re crushing on the guy. I came to help you take your gear back to the house.” He picked up the sampling case, placed it in the back his truck and shut the tailgate. “Thanks for your help today. I need to get some things ready for the pickers for tomorrow. If you’re done, head on up to the house. Mom’s expecting you to stay for dinner. And you know her, she doesn’t take no for an answer.”