Orchard Hill Volume Two

by Kara Lynn Russell

  “She’s right,” called a lady from the small crowd that had gathered. “He was all over her. This is supposed to be a family event.” Several others added their agreement.

  Joseph speared Hope with an angry look. “You,” he said, pointing to her, “stay right there. I’ll be back.” He hauled Jordan to his feet and began to lead him away. “Let’s get you to the first aid station.”

  She took a deep breath and allowed Oliver to help her to a bench as the people who’d gathered began to drift back to their picnic tables.

  Oliver sat down next to her on the bench. “Hope, what were you trying to do? I saw that look on your face just before you hit Jordan. That punch you threw was premeditated.”

  A man came over and offered them some ice wrapped in a towel. Oliver thanked him and put the ice on her hand. Hope tried to pull away, but Oliver pressed it back down, gently. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t leave that on. Now tell me what that was all about.”

  “OK. I didn’t want to hit Jordan, but it was the only thing I could think of.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw the look on your face, too, you know. You were going to cream him.”

  That look returned to Oliver’s face. “He was draped all over you. I’ve warned him off enough times.”

  “So that’s why I…I hit him.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t whack your head when you fell? You aren’t making sense.”

  “Yes, I am. It would have been worse if you hit him. It would have become an all out free-for-all then. But he can’t hit me back. I’m a girl.”

  “You’re lucky he remembered that. When he could think straight that is.”

  “I can’t believe he went down like that!”

  A hint of a smile formed on Oliver’s mouth, and she knew she was out of trouble with him. “He has a glass jaw. Who would have thought? I doubt he’ll be bothering you again.”

  She offered a tentative smile. “You told me to give him a firm ‘no.’”

  A full blown laugh escaped from Oliver then. “That was definitely firm.”

  His smile turned quickly to a scowl. “But don’t try that again. You could have gotten hurt—I mean, worse than you did.”

  “I wouldn’t have had to hit Jordan if you’d have been on time. Where were you, Mr. Punctuality?”

  “I was having another talk with your brother.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Not again. He told me he was going to get to know you. I should have guessed something was up when I saw him so close on your heels. Getting into a fight with Jordan would have been bad, but if Joseph had seen it…”

  “So you thought you’d solve everything by socking Jordan? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.” Oliver put an arm around Hope and pulled her close. “Did you really do it for me?”

  She looked up at him and nodded. He looked away.

  “No one’s ever looked out for me like that before,” he admitted in a soft voice.

  “I’ll always look out for you.” She put her hand on his cheek and turned his head so she could see his eyes. “If your offer still stands, that is.”

  “The offer still stands. I know I don’t deserve you, Hope, and…and I have a lot to learn about relationships—long term ones anyway. I’ll probably make lots of mistakes.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve already made a lot of mistakes with you.”

  “And yet I’m still here.”

  “Are you going to marry me?”

  “Yes, Oliver.”

  She lifted her face and kissed him. His arm tightened around her shoulder, drawing her closer.

  The sound of a throat being cleared made them stop. Joseph was standing over them. “Now that you two have all that straightened out, would you like to join the family to watch the fireworks?”

  Hope realized that Abby, Noah, Peter and the triplets were all standing behind Joseph with lawn chairs, blankets and a cooler.

  “Go ahead,” said Oliver. “I’ll see you later.” He rose and turned to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” asked Joseph.

  Oliver shrugged. “Probably home.”

  “You just asked my sister to marry you, didn’t you?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “And she accepted, didn’t she.”

  Oliver couldn’t hold back a little smile. “Yes.”

  “I have news for you. If you marry her, the rest of us are part of the deal. Grab some lawn chairs and let’s go.”

  Joseph headed off toward the open field where people were gathering. The kids followed.

  Hope and Oliver hung back. She looked anxiously up at her new fiancé. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  A huge grin split Oliver’s face. “Mind? I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

  The rumble of the first rocket sounded, calling them to hurry. But Oliver took one more moment to kiss Hope again. She left the now wet towel and melting ice on the picnic table and took Oliver’s hand—in her non-bruised hand—and they set off together.

  TITLE

  Epilogue

  Misty looked at the crowd surrounding Hope and Oliver in the gathering space waiting to congratulate them on their engagement. She’d never seen Oliver look so happy, and Hope was positively radiant. She hated it.

  Well, she was happy for them, of course. But she hated that Pansy Parker had completed another match. She was one behind now, and even from across the room she could feel the smugness coming off Pansy in waves. It was time to get busy.

  Misty scanned the room, trying to think of whom she could help. Her gaze rested on Joy, the organist. She was standing alone at one side of the room, holding a paper cup full of lemonade. When Ian O’Neil stopped to talk to her, she jumped and spilled lemonade down the front of herself. Joy was such a shy, timid person that it would probably take years to get her together with someone. Misty didn’t have that much time.

  Then she saw her. Sarah Rogers was standing to one side of the crowd of well-wishers. She and Hope were good friends, but Sarah was still relatively new in town and didn’t know a lot of people. And she’d even given Misty permission to find her a date. This was perfect.

  Who could she match Sarah up with? Hope’s brother Joseph came to talk to her. Now, how about that—Sarah and Joseph? Misty discarded that idea almost immediately. Joseph was still mourning his wife. She thought he was probably the kind of guy who would never re-marry but stay true to the memory of his first love his whole life.

  Very touching, but no help for her. Who would be right for Sarah Rogers?

  She was so deep in thought that Misty lost track of her surroundings. She didn’t even see Perry coming until he was right next to her. Before she could stop him, he put his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Morning, hon. The choir sounded great.”

  Misty looked over to Pansy. Their eyes locked. Her secret was out.

  Accepting

  Charity

  Prologue

  Pansy stared across the gathering space at the Orchard Hill Community Church as her son put his arm around—of all people—her arch rival, Misty Green. He even kissed her on the cheek. This couldn’t be happening. It was like a nightmare that she couldn’t wake from.

  Misty’s father, Arthur, walked over to the pair. When Misty introduced Perry, Arthur’s eyes lit with recognition, happy no doubt, to be meeting Pansy’s son at last. She had to step in and take control of the situation before Arthur gave away the fact that he and she were also a couple.

  “Hey, Mom,” said Perry as she crossed the floor to them. “I didn’t know you knew Misty’s father.”

  Oh no. Was she too late?

  “Yes, we met at the grocery store.” She refused to show any sign of discomposure.

  “That’s nice.” He couldn’t know. Perry would have a much bigger reaction if Arthur had told them.

  “So tell me, Perry, how long have you and Misty been seeing each other?” Pansy pasted a bright, cheery, totally false smile on her face.

&
nbsp; “Hmmm, how long has it been? Since before Easter?”

  Misty giggled nervously. “Has it been that long? Gee, time flies…”

  “Yes, it certainly does. Before you know it, the year will be over and some people will wonder where the time went and why they didn’t get more done.”

  That had been vague, but Misty had gotten the reference to their little wager. She kept smiling, although her eyes narrowed slightly. “Then again, some people seem to be able to get lots done and still have time left over.”

  “Those people better make sure they’re concentrating on the right things.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Pansy. You know, I have something I need to talk to you about. Can we go into your office for a minute?”

  “Certainly.”

  Pansy and Misty kept up their stiff pretense of being friendly until the door closed behind them. Then, their affected politeness dropped like masks, and Pansy pounced. “What do you think you’re doing, dating my son? He just broke up with his wife. He’s very vulnerable right now.”

  “I happen to care about Perry very much, and I don’t think he’s still pining over his ex.”

  “I know what this is really about. You’re angry because I’m ahead of you in this contest. You’re hoping to distract me.”

  “I don’t need to resort to tactics like that. I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back.”

  “Hmmph,” sniffed Pansy. “I don’t think much of a matchmaker who’d put herself together with someone who’s obviously so wrong for her.”

  “Oh really? Did you know that Perry loves my cooking?”

  Pansy gasped. They both believed that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. “Fine, you go ahead and work your wiles on my son, but don’t think it will do you any good. He’s too smart to be taken in by you forever!”

  With that, Pansy stalked from the room, almost slamming the door before she remembered where she was. She caught herself just in time to shut the door noiselessly.

  Perry and Arthur were still talking. Without acknowledging Arthur, she grabbed her son’s arm and began pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go, Perry. I’m planning a big Sunday dinner. You’ll love it.”

  Misty smiled at the picture Pansy made. If she were any madder, steam would be coming out of her ears for sure. Still, she hoped the woman didn’t give her Perry too much of a hard time over this.

  One thing Pansy had said was correct anyway. Misty had been neglecting the matchmaking contest lately. It was time for her to get busy and make some matches. After all, she’d already decided on her next project. She just had to get started.

  TITLE

  Orchard Hill: volume Two

  Chapter 1

  Let the little children come to me , and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

  —Mark 10:14, NIV

  Sarah Rogers walked toward The Grace Place in Orchard Hill. The July sun was warm, and she looked forward to stepping into the air conditioned coffee shop. This was the only thought on her mind as someone grabbed onto her from behind.

  Sarah turned in surprise, and a smile lit up her face when she saw Charity Daniels standing there. She knelt down to the three-year-old’s level, using both sign language and speech to talk to her. “Good morning, Charity. How are you?”

  The little girl stared back at Sarah solemnly and said nothing.

  “Who are you with?” Sarah knew that Charity’s mother had passed away recently, but not who was taking care of her now.

  “She’s with me. Charity, you can’t just run off. I need you to stay close to me.”

  Sarah looked up when she heard the deep masculine voice. The man seemed to tower over her from where she knelt on the sidewalk. She tilted her head back to see his face and nearly tipped over.

  He offered a hand and helped Sarah to rise, but once on her feet she still had to look up to meet his eyes. “Do you know Charity?” he asked in a tight voice.

  Sarah had learned to read people quickly. It was a survival skill for a kid being bounced around in the foster care system. He was upset, but not angry. “Yes. She and her mother belong to my church. Or at least they used to before…I’m Sarah Rogers.” What was she saying? Could she be more awkward? Handsome men always had this effect on her. And this man definitely ranked in the handsome category, with thick wavy hair the same shade as his chocolate brown eyes. The view didn’t deteriorate below that, either.

  “I’m David Daniels. Charity is my niece.”

  “Then I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr. Daniels. Maggie was a beautiful person.” That sounded lame, but what else did you say when meeting the relatives of the recently deceased?

  “Thank you.” He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

  Charity saved them from their discomfort by tugging on the hem of Sarah’s shorts. “What is it, honey?”

  Charity signed, “Mom.”

  Sarah’s heart ached for the little girl. “You must miss your mom,” she said and signed back.

  “Why are you using sign language with Charity? She’s not deaf.” He was trying to ask politely, but there was an edge to his voice.

  “I know that. She has dyspraxia, so it’s difficult for her to coordinate the sounds and movements necessary for speech. Sign language reinforces spoken words and gives her another option for expressing herself.” Sarah tried to put a soothing tone into her own voice.

  “She does speak, doesn’t she? She hasn’t said a thing since I got here.”

  “Strong emotion can make speech more difficult, and I’m guessing she’s been dealing with some pretty big emotions.”

  The man’s eyes attested to his own emotions. He looked tired, overwhelmed and sad all at once. “Yes, I’m sure she is,” he replied.

  “I’m sorry; I must be keeping you from something.” She took a step back, intending to exit gracefully from the scene.

  “No, not really. You seem to know Charity pretty well.”

  Before she could answer, a fourth person joined their little group on the sidewalk. “Hello Sarah, Charity. Hello David,” she said offering him her hand. “I don’t know if you remember me or not. I’m Misty Green. We met a couple years ago when you were here visiting your sister.”

  He shook her hand. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

  “That’s all right. We only met briefly before. I’m so sorry about Maggie’s death. What a shock. Are you Charity’s new guardian?”

  “Thank you. It seems that I am. Charity’s guardian, that is.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open, and she forgot about leaving. She couldn’t believe Misty could just barge right into the conversation and ask personal questions like that.

  “I have a lot to learn,” he admitted. “I didn’t know Maggie had named me as guardian in her will.”

  “Well you’ve definitely found the right person to help you then,” declared Misty.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Isn’t Sarah helping you out?” Misty elbowed her in the side and whispered, “Close your mouth, honey.”

  Sarah snapped her mouth shut, but she was sure her eyes were still as big as saucers at Misty’s audacity.

  “No, we just met when Charity went up to her to say hello,” David explained.

  “Sarah is a speech therapist at Orchard Hill elementary. She’s great with kids.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Is she really?”

  Sarah hated being in the spotlight, even if it was only for two people. Misty and David were both staring at her now. She dropped her gaze to the sidewalk. “I do work with kids.”

  “I have to get back to my store.” She pointed across the street to The Green Scene, the health food store she owned. “I just wanted to say ‘hi’ to you, David, and offer my condolences.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Green.”

  “Oh, just call me Misty, honey,” she said. “Stop in and see my store sometime. I have the best or
ganic produce around.”

  “Um. Thanks.”

  Misty patted Sarah’s shoulder. “And hang on to this one. She’ll be loads of help with Charity.”

  David’s eyes followed Misty for a minute as she walked away. She didn’t seem to quite fit in, here in Orchard Hill, with her gauzy skirts and long silver and blonde hair. But even though she didn’t fit the mold, he could tell what her type was—church busybody. He’d gotten off lucky. She hadn’t even invited him to dinner.