Still, he needed her to know he was being truthful.
Toby stepped even closer, getting into her space. His cheek brushed hers as he whispered right beside her ear. “I’m so attracted to you I can’t see straight sometimes. You have no idea how—”
“I got the basket!” Kasey burst between them and held a small bucket aloft. “We can head out now.”
Jenna tucked her hair back behind her ears. She looked at Toby, then looked away, looked at Kasey, and then her gaze strayed back to Toby. A blush spread down her neck and warmed her cheeks. She bit her cheek on one side, studying him as if he were a science-fair project. Toby met her scrutiny.
Believe it, Jenna. I meant every word and more.
Kasey let the basket dangle beside her. Her eyes narrowed. “Something silly is going on here. You two are looking all funny at each other. Were you telling secrets? Can I hear?”
“Apples.” Jenna grabbed Kasey’s shoulders and steered the girl toward the orchard. “Let’s go pick apples.”
Kasey dropped back to slip her free hand into Jenna’s. She handed the pail to Toby and then took hold of his hand, too, so she was skipping in between them. “Jenna? Is Toby your boyfriend?”
Jenna coughed and sputtered for air. “Girls and guys can just be friends.”
“I know, but Toby’s great and you’re great, so...”
Toby squeezed Kasey’s hand. “Kase, don’t pester. Focus on picking apples, and think about all the things we’ll make with them.”
“Mmm.” Kasey used their arms as leverage to hop over a downed branch. “We could make those baked ones again. Or the turnovers. The apple butter is good, too. Oh, but the fritters are my favorite. No, wait. I take that back. I forgot about caramel apples.”
“What about cider donuts?” Toby asked.
Kasey gave a dramatic groan. “Everything. Everything apple wins.”
They headed toward the side of the orchard to the trees holding the last Gravenstein apples of the season. Gravensteins were early bloomers and would all fall from their limbs by next week. They needed to focus on clearing the last of those before picking from trees with apples that would hold into next month.
Jenna pointed to the first tree in the line. “This one looks good.”
Toby hauled Kasey onto his shoulders so she could reach the branches.
“Be careful up there.” Jenna inched closer with the basket propped on her hip.
Toby and Kasey picked the apples, then passed them to Jenna. They made a great team.
Why hadn’t he realized how he felt about Jenna years ago? It would have alleviated so much of his stumbling through life. For so long, he’d blocked out love. How stupid. All because he’d been afraid of losing people like he’d lost Ben, and his parents after Ben’s death. Sure, he’d successfully prevented all the bad emotions, the hard things, from penetrating his heart, but the blockades had kept out the good stuff, too.
He glanced over at Jenna and Kasey.
The best stuff.
He wouldn’t live like that any longer—not now, when he knew what he’d missed out on. Toby could be braver than that—he’d open up, even if that meant losing sometimes. Even if it meant people deciding they didn’t like him. Even if it meant flat-out rejection.
On the way back home Kasey ran ahead of them, excited to poll Mr. Crest on what they should use all the apples for tonight. Toby lugged the overloaded pail under his arm while Jenna walked a few feet away, glancing over her shoulder toward the setting sun.
Toby cleared his throat. “I really enjoy spending time with you.”
She offered him a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back. This place is better when you’re around. I can’t take care of it the way you do.”
He reached over, took her hand and laced their fingers together. And she didn’t pull away.
* * *
Jenna drew her cardigan tighter around herself, crossed her arms and shoved her fists into her armpits as she pressed farther into the darkness. Years ago, she’d been fond of nighttime walks. Strolling under the stars used to do wonders to clear her head. Without fear, she used to prowl the rows of trees, praying late into the evening. There had been no need to worry about waking up at a certain time the next day because Mom liked to start the homeschool lessons later anyway.
For almost eight years now, nighttime had no longer been safe. Ross had robbed her of that. He’d robbed her of so much more than the obvious. Her last evening stroll had been the final day of summer before her sophomore year of college.
Jenna shivered.
Autumn nights near Lake Michigan were bound to be cold. She should have tossed on a fleece jacket before stepping out, but she wouldn’t go back for it now. Jenna cut into the orchard, following the same path she, Toby and Kasey had taken to pick apples earlier.
Inside, she couldn’t think straight. Not with Kasey and Toby hanging out with Dad in the front room. How could she work through her jumble of emotions concerning Toby when he was nearby? She’d slipped out the back door, telling herself she’d be quick.
Weeks ago when Toby arrived, she’d wanted him gone. Now she didn’t know if she could ever handle him leaving. How did that kind of flip happen?
Because you never stopped loving him.
She pressed her hand to her cheek, remembering the rub of his stubble and the warmth of his breath as he whispered flirtatious words. If only she could cherish how he treated her today, but she couldn’t lie to herself. Toby didn’t care about her beyond friendship. No matter what he said or did. When they were younger, he’d been the same way, and it had meant nothing. His behavior had changed because of the sleepy words she’d muttered when he carried her from the pond.
Was Toby messing with her?
Jenna swallowed hard. How was she supposed to protect her heart from him? It screamed to be handed over to him every time they were together. But she couldn’t do that—not fully—because she knew deep down that in the end he’d decide she wasn’t good enough for him, like he’d done in the past. Someday when he left, taking Kasey with him—because there was no possible way he’d stay here forever—he’d leave Jenna’s heart in the dirt again.
Something rustled along the deer fencing to her right. Jenna froze. She tilted her head, listening for any minuscule movements in the bushes beyond the low fence. A steady thump of footsteps coming from the orchard set her on edge.
What made her think she was safe out here? Goose Harbor enjoyed a low crime rate, but the orchard sat on the far edge of town, just a few streets off the highway. Anyone could come onto their property without the Crests noticing. Once, Dad had located a homeless man living in their woods, eating the apples.
No one in the house would hear if she cried out.
She was alone. Unprotected.
Easy prey.
Jenna stumbled backward as terror closed around her dry throat. She blinked against the night, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
She hated feeling so vulnerable.
Willing her legs to move, Jenna took off blindly through the nearest row of trees. She pushed forward, grabbing branches. Something or someone else tromped along the cold earth not far away.
Escape. Get away.
Deep gasps of breath heaved from her lips as she rounded another row of trees and sprinted deeper into the orchard. Kicking over fallen apples, she stumbled. Someone called her name. A man.
Ross had known her name, and that hadn’t meant she was safe.
Keep going. Don’t stop.
Tripping again, Jenna tore out of the orchard and rushed onward. The dim, silver splash of moonlight cast everything in terrifying shadows. Air whooshed out of her stomach as she smacked into something hard. It wobbled and crashed to the ground beside her. A hive. She clawed forward. The deep hum of angry bugs, awoken
from their slumber, reverberated in her ears. If she was near Dad’s bees, one of their toolsheds wasn’t far. Jenna sprang to her feet, batting at the irate but sleepy bees.
Spotting the shed, she hurried forward. Her breath burned in her throat, and her thoughts pounded an assault against her emotions. What if the man found her...caught her...kept coming after her no matter what? Not again. She couldn’t take it. Never again.
If she couldn’t outrun him, she’d hide. And if he found her, she’d fight. This time she wouldn’t go easily. This time she’d choose strength.
Jenna tugged open the heavy metal door and hurled herself into the toolshed. She tore toward the back of the deep structure and burrowed herself amid the equipment. Her hands scraped against rakes and hoes, but the pain let her know she was still alive. Breathing. Fighting. Along the back wall, Jenna dropped to her knees, curled into a ball and threw her arms over her head and neck.
She tried to cry silently, jamming her face into her legs to muffle any sounds. But no matter how much she attempted to push the memories away, she was a sophomore in college again. Crouched down, trying to hide from Ross and the power drunkenness gave him. But he always found her. His rough hands were always ready for her.
“Oh, God, help me. Protect me.” Jenna shivered.
With a loud clank, the heavy door burst open. Maybe she could spring forward, grab a weapon and fend off whoever it was. Then again, if she stayed still, maybe she wouldn’t have to. The darkness worked in her favor. She’d be difficult to see hidden within the clutter of tools stored in the shed. Jenna huddled, pressing herself tighter against the wall.
Make me invisible.
“Jenna?” A tender, tentative voice sounded in the darkness. “You in here?”
A trick. Ross once said he was hurt and needed help to get her to open the door. She’d fallen for it and wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
Footsteps thumped against the wooden floor and came near her. Jenna held her breath. A hand skimmed her back, and terror gripped her. She uncurled herself and shoved at the man with all her power. She spun and grabbed a rake from a hook off the wall; then she thrust it between them. “Don’t touch me.”
Cloaked in shadows, the man held up his hands in surrender. “You’re scaring me, Jenna. What’s going on? I want to help.” He took a step forward, but she met his movement with a jab in his direction.
“I won’t let you hurt me,” Jenna ground out.
“Jenna. Sweetheart. Put the rake down.” The man’s voice, bathed in warmth, reached through her panic, and she finally recognized it. “It’s Toby. No one’s going to hurt you on my watch.”
“Toby.” Her shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sorry... I thought... I thought...” Her weapon clattered to the ground and she dropped to her knees. The aftertaste of fear pulsed tension through her muscles, but her mind was back under control. She hadn’t battled an attack that strong in months.
Toby came to his knees in front of her, pulling Jenna to his chest without hesitating. She fisted her hands into the soft fabric of his T-shirt, shoved her forehead into his sternum and broke into ugly, shoulder-shaking sobs. She cried so hard she could hardly catch her breath. But hanging on to him helped ground her in reality.
“It’s you,” she kept repeating. “I’m glad it’s you.”
He slowly scooted back toward the open doorway with Jenna in his arms. Fresh air hit her like a slap, but she welcomed the chill. Anything to help her focus.
There’s no danger. I’m safe.
Toby ran his hand over her hair and cupped the back of her head. “Please tell me what’s going on. Help me understand. I said my name. Said your name. But it’s like you couldn’t hear me. You just took off.”
Jenna closed her eyes and absorbed the scent of him—cedar and sweat and sweetness from constantly handling the apples, herbs lingering from dinner—home base. Her safe harbor.
She fought a losing battle against the trembles that kept working up her spine. What was wrong? What had happened? Why was she running? “He raped me.”
The muscles crisscrossing Toby’s chest tensed. He set her back a foot away from his body. A sliver of moonlight showed his nostrils flared, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard. Shame plunked into her stomach like a heavy rock. He’d never think the same about her. She should have kept things—
“Who?” he growled. “When? Is he here?” He took a labored breath like a runner after a marathon, his whole chest heaving. “Nearby? I’ll—”
“Oh, wow. You thought...” Jenna pushed her palms into his chest. “Tobe. I’m fine. It was a long time ago.”
Air rattled out of him. He placed a hand over the top of hers. “I’m so sorry. Is that what...”
Caused you to clam up? Made you constantly scared? Started your anxiety?
His question could have ended with any of those, but they all had the same answer.
She nodded. “Sophomore year of college.”
He sat back on his heels. “The year you quit. That’s why. Your dad doesn’t know?”
“No. And please, promise you won’t tell him. I couldn’t bear him knowing. He’d feel responsible in some way—I know it would hurt him, and I can’t handle bringing him down. Promise me?”
Toby closed his eyes as if making the promise bothered him, but he nodded once.
“I was dating him.” She puffed out a lungful of air. “At first, I thought it was my fault.”
“Jenna.” Ah. There it was. The upset way Toby said her name when she belittled herself.
She shrugged. “The girls on my floor told me it was normal—that I should want to—and I was overreacting. He was my first—well, the only boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
Toby worked his jaw back and forth. “That doesn’t mean he’s allowed to do whatever he wants.” He picked up her hand and held on tightly.
“I know that now,” she whispered. “I changed myself a lot, after what happened in high school.”
His frown deepened. “After I was a jerk?”
“It’s stupid.” She ran the toe of her tennis shoes back and forth over the long grass just outside the shed.
“Tell me.” Toby squeezed her hand. “Please? Unless it’s too difficult.”
It shouldn’t be difficult. She’d been through two different counselors and had even attended group therapy sessions in Grand Rapids. Why couldn’t she move on like so many of the other women she had met had been able to?
“It’s been almost eight years.” For a long time, she’d foolishly blamed Toby for her problems. He’d been the catalyst—the old, frumpy Jenna wouldn’t have caught Ross’s attention. “After graduation I drove to a spa in Grand Rapids and paid a lot of money for a makeover, and I bought all new clothes. When I got to school, I pretended to be outgoing. I went to parties. I hung out with the football team. Ross was on the team. A linebacker.”
“I feel sick.” Toby rocked forward, hooking his free elbow onto his knee. He rested his head in his hand. “They’re huge.”
“He was,” Jenna continued. “And when he got drunk... I had no chance. I think he thought it was his right. That’s what he said. I started hiding from him, but he’d find me. He bribed my roommate to borrow keys to our room. The last time—”
He turned his head to look at her. “How many times?”
“It was five times before I ran away.”
Toby scooted closer and laid his hand on her knee. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” His arm went rigid. “Is this okay? Me touching you? I do it all the time without asking. I shouldn’t.” He let go of her hand and moved his other hand from her leg. “I didn’t even think... Does that bother you?”
He looked so worried. As if he thought he might break her.
But really, Toby’s contact made her feel cherished. When he looked at her in h
is special way or reached out to her, it made her forget that she was damaged goods. And while this was her perfect opportunity to set some boundaries for the sake of her heart, she couldn’t do it. Not if it meant never holding Toby’s hand again. Not when she needed the hug and comfort he’d readily offer.
She grabbed his shirt and tugged him closer. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she rested her head on his chest again. “It doesn’t bother me at all. Not with you.”
No one besides medical professionals knew the rest, but the safety she found in Toby’s arms unglued her tongue. “Once I came home, I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want it. Tobe, I was so scared, but it was wrong for me to wish a life away. I think it was a sin to feel that way.” Which was why God had been silent with her ever since.
“Jenna, no.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed the side of her face into his chest, as if she could block out the worst. “I lost it—I had a miscarriage—close to the thirteen-week mark. It was worse than what Ross did. That baby died, Toby. My baby died because I hadn’t wanted it.”
“That’s not true.” His arms encircled her, and his chin moved against the side of her head. He spoke in a hushed but insistent tone. “Believe me. It’s not your fault that your child didn’t make it. Don’t carry that guilt.” He took hold of her arms and set her back a foot from his face. “Sweetheart, look at me.” She did. “That guilt’s not yours to carry. Okay? It tears me in two to know all that happened to you. To know I played a part in it.” He shook his head. “You should have never experienced that. Any of it.”
“But I did.”
“And not one part of it was your fault. Only—I can’t even say his name—only he shoulders blame. This is his sin.”
“It may be his sin, but it destroyed my life.” She laid her hand on her chest. Tears edged her voice, making it raw and shaky. “It destroyed any hope that I’ll ever be able to trust a man again. It destroyed my faith in God, Tobe. I prayed. I called out to God, and He didn’t stop it.” More tears slipped down her cheeks. “He didn’t protect me.”
Apple Orchard Bride Page 13
