The Apple Tree

by Kara Jimenez

  He wanted to ask her to kiss him again, but he couldn’t get the words out. And that would be inappropriate right now. She wanted to know about the apples.

  “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled, taking her clothes and heading toward the washing machine.

  When he returned, he sat down next to her on the couch.

  “So, you can’t die… at all?” Her voice was so quiet he barely heard her.

  He poured himself another drink. “No, not at all.” The golden liquid sloshed in the bottle as he set it down and replaced the lid. “I’m a hundred and eighty years old.” He threw back his glass, drinking the contents in one swallow.

  Bianca stared at Levi, unable to understand what he’d just said. Every pore in her body said this was all a big joke, except, she’d just seen him heal completely. He should be dead.

  One hundred and eighty years old.

  The concept finally started to penetrate her consciousness.

  “It hadn’t even occurred to me that you could be really old. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the healing, but…” She looked down at her glass, turning it in her palm. “Now that you mention it, you’ve always seemed different.”

  “I’ll start at the beginning.” He set his glass on the coffee table and took a deep breath. “After crossing the Oregon Trail with my family, I took out a land claim. This land.” He waved toward the window. “I was out surveying one day, when I came across an apple tree on the far perimeter of the property.”

  “You were a pioneer?” She rubbed her forehead. “I think my brain is going to explode.”

  He chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d been invited for dinner at my uncle’s home that night, so I gathered as many apples as I could fit into my saddle bag to bring to my cousin Anna. I thought she might make a pie. I had no idea there was anything special about the apples.” He looked at his hands and then closed his eyes and leaned back on the plaid couch. “If I had known, I would have never…” Suddenly, he sat back up, reached for the bottle of bourbon and poured himself another glass. “We all ate the pie and then… went home. Several days later, people started getting sick. The young suddenly grew old, very quickly.” He took a gulp of the liquor.

  She looked down at the glass in her hand, twirling it in circles. “I don’t understand. I thought the apples made you heal. They made people sick?”

  He nodded. “They made our loved ones sick. They died. Six people died and then Peter was shot.”

  Her head snapped up. “Peter? He’s… one hundred and eighty also?”

  “Actually, he’s one hundred and eighty-two now. He was twenty-six when he ate the pie. I was twenty-four.”

  She reached for the bottle of bourbon, completely numb now that she’d reached her limit of crazy. Peter is immortal as well, okay. The sky is Jell-O and the moon is made of cheese, okay.

  “Peter healed and later we discovered there were six of us who had these new healing powers.” He took a drink. “We had no idea what to make of it, or what caused it. There was no more reason to connect it back to the apples than to the bread we ate or the water we drank. But my Uncle Charles figured out every one of us who’d become immortal lost someone we loved dearly from the preceding illness.”

  She brought the glass back to her lips and Levi’s gaze followed. Was he counting her shots?

  “Bee, do you think you’ve had enough to drink? I don’t want you to get sick.”

  Her eyes rolled. “If I get sick, it won’t be from the alcohol. I feel like I’ve just boarded a ship to crazy town and I need a little help coping, okay?” She took another sip and pulled the navy fleece blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her lap. “Who’d you lose?”

  He sighed, blinking several times before raising his glass again. “My twin sister, Grace.”

  “You had a twin?” What can you say to ease the pain of that? “I’m sorry you lost her.”

  He nodded and finished off the contents of his glass. “It was a long time ago.”

  The room began to spin and she placed her head in her hands. “Peter lost his wife?”

  Levi nodded and slouched back on the couch.

  “So, what happens if an animal eats an apple? I’m sure the birds eat them or a deer or something. Are there a bunch of immortal creatures running around the forest?”

  His fingers played with his arm hair. “It doesn’t seem to work on animals. I tried it with a dog once. I’m guessing, because it also kills the person you love and humans develop stronger emotional attachments. I don’t know really. I’ve been working on theories about the tree for centuries, but I still know close to nothing about it.” He reached over to take her glass, setting it on the table. “Dance with me.”

  Her head shot up. “What?”

  He took her hand, pulling her up from the couch with large glassy eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I’m drunk.”

  A loud, almost maniacal laughter filled the room. Okay, maybe she was drunk also.

  “I think you’ve had as much information as you can process right now. We’ll come back to it, but right now, let’s do something fun.” He walked over to the bookcase where a small iPod deck stood on the middle shelf. Pushing a couple of buttons, an upbeat country song filled the room. He turned, taking one of her hands and spun her toward him and out again.

  She giggled. “You’re going to make me dizzy!”

  “Come on, loosen up.” He let go of her, moved the liquor bottle to the fireplace mantle and jumped on the coffee table.

  Levi was drunk alright, and he’d been concerned about how much she’d been drinking? She laughed as he danced on top of the table. Was it weird that she was still attracted to him even though he was older than her grandfather? But there had never been a grandfather on the history of the planet that looked as good as he did, shaking his hips to the beat. Her gaze focused on his trim waist where the shirt had lifted, revealing a neat line of dark hair leading downward. She bit her lip. No, he didn’t look like a grandfather at all.

  Oh, what the heck. She stepped onto the other end of the table. The baggy sweatpants she’d borrowed draped around her hips as she danced and she had to keep pulling them up. If only her clothes hadn’t gotten dirty. It felt ridiculous to wear his oversized things, but he didn’t seem to mind. She’d never seen him watching her like that before, so boldly and unashamed.

  His gaze traveled all the way up her body, and when it reached her face, he smiled. “You look hot.”

  “You’re drunk,” she answered.

  He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “So are you.”

  Bianca’s warm body pressed against him, soft in all the right places. He closed his eyes, inhaling the delicious scent of her, like fresh baked bread. They continued to sway to the music, under the pretense of dancing, but they’d slowed, only moving a few inches each way. His hand ran over the curve of her hips under the thin fabric. How was it possible that she was still here? She hadn’t run after hearing his secret. Uncontainable joy filled his entire body, making his limbs tingle. Or was it the bourbon?

  No, it was her.

  He’d acted ridiculous a few minutes ago, jumping onto the table, but he’d felt so free and happy with her knowing the real him. And he couldn’t regret pulling her close.

  His buzz started to fade, one of the downsides of having a body that healed itself so quickly, it was hard to stay drunk for long. He slid his hand up her back and through the roots of her hair. “I’m sorry to drop all of this on you.”

  She took a deep breath. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “But you’re still here.” He tightened his grip on her. “You have no idea what that means to me.”

  She pulled him even closer, resting her head on his chest and still swaying, until suddenly, she gasped and jerked away. “I just realized something.” Her eyes grew huge. “I ate an apple from your orchard.”

  Bianca’s heart pounded as she waited for Levi to react to her lie, or maybe
the pounding was from the way his body pressed against hers as he held her on top of the coffee table. Either one.

  “I knew you stole an apple from me, you little thief!” He pulled her closer, chuckling. “But nobody you love has died, have they? You must not have eaten from the right tree. I planted those other trees around the original about twenty years ago to act as a decoy. Only the red apples will bring the curse.”

  Her hands slid over his shoulder blades, enjoying the hard, solid feel of them. “The ones I ate were yellow.” Thank goodness. She never should’ve lied about it in the first place. No wonder he’d been so upset when he found her in the orchard.

  He pulled her tighter and whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “I’m getting hungry. Do you want to eat something?”

  She was getting hungry, although with his lips at her ear, what she wanted wasn’t food. But since he didn’t seem to be making any moves in that direction, she nodded.

  He planted a quick kiss on the top of her head and then let go, stepping down from the table and helping her do the same. She had to admit, it was getting a little awkward just standing on the table. They hopped over the dog that slept on the floor like he couldn’t care less about their dancing and headed toward the kitchen.

  “You can’t force me to eat any strange foods though, since this is my house and I’m already familiar with everything in the cupboards.” He winked and her stomach did a flip. “How about a veggie omelet?”

  “Sounds great.”

  He pulled several vegetables out of a basket on the countertop— zucchini, onions, tomatoes and green pepper.

  “Are those from your garden?” she asked.

  “Of course, I always grow my own food, habit I guess.” He fetched a knife from the drawer. “When I moved here, there were only two very small general stores. Not like the giant grocery stores today with aisle after aisle of choices.” A huge smile filled his face as he set a zucchini on the cutting board and started chopping. “It feels so good to say that. I can’t usually be myself around people.”

  She smiled. It was nice to see him happy and so easy to forget he was different. “Do you have another knife? I can help.”

  He took a knife and a small cutting board from the drawer and handed it over.

  “This is kind of a gross question, but what do you think would have happened if the mountain lion ate you? Like completely. Do you think you would have come back from that? Not that I wanted that to happen, just morbid curiosity.”

  His eyebrows rose as he lifted his cutting board, sliding the chopped zucchini into a bowl. “That’s a really good question. I don’t know. And I don’t think I’ll be testing that one.” He laughed, picked up an onion and slid his knife through the flesh. “You could ask Peter though. He might have tried something like that.”

  Her nose scrunched. “What do you mean? Why would Peter try that?”

  Levi set the knife down and leaned against the counter. “After his wife died, he fell apart. He spent the decade after her death trying to kill himself, to end his pain and be with her again. But he always came back, of course.”

  Her knife stopped chopping. “That’s horrible.” She’d have to remember to be nicer to Peter the next time she saw him. Well, not too nice or he might get the wrong idea.

  “When that proved impossible, he just gave up, turned his emotions off as best he could. Tried to numb himself with drink, women, anything, to get through.” Levi lifted the knife again and continued his work. “He used to be my best friend, but after a while I just couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He’d changed too much. If Clara were here today, she wouldn’t recognize him at all. Except physically of course, he looks exactly the same as he always has.”

  She dumped her chopped green pepper into the bowl. “I thought you guys hated each other.”

  “Well, I guess we kind of do, now.” He paused, looking at the cutting board. “Hate might be too strong a word.”

  These men had so much history together. She could almost laugh at herself for thinking she’d met them both by coincidence before. Obviously, Peter had seen her with Levi.

  Together they sautéed the vegetables and added the eggs as the savory aroma drifted through the room, making her stomach growl. Levi plopped the omelets onto two plates and they sat at his little wooden table. The dog followed, probably hoping they’d drop their plates.

  “What’s your dog’s name again?” she asked.

  “Aldo.”

  She took a chunk of egg from her plate and tossed it into Aldo’s waiting mouth.

  Levi rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”

  A giggle escaped her lips and she picked up her fork. “Thank you, by the way. For jumping on that mountain lion for me.”

  “How could I have done anything else?” He reached across the table and took her hand as his gray eyes drew her in. “I haven’t met anyone in more than a hundred years that I wanted to spend time with, like I do you.”

  She searched her mind for a reply, coming up with nothing that portrayed how she felt. How could she explain that he just seemed to fit? Everything with him felt easy, safe and like… home. But it hadn’t always felt like that. “When you were spying on me, you said it was to keep me safe?”

  He smiled. “I thought you might have eaten a red apple and I was afraid I’d have to explain what was happening. And I was afraid Peter would find out someone else had activated the curse.”

  “Why would Peter care?” She took a bite of her omelet.

  “Peter and his father never figured out what started the curse. Only I know, but they’re convinced they can somehow sell it as a fountain of youth.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Like they don’t have enough money already.”

  “I don’t think Peter really cares about the money. He’s always craved his father’s approval though.” He tapped his fork on the edge of his plate. “I hesitate to bring this up, but my uncle is pretty desperate and if he knew there was someone I cared about, he might… try to force me to talk. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you though.”

  That sounded dangerous. But she was someone he cared about? The thought made her giddy like her foot had just slid perfectly into a glass slipper held by a prince. She smiled and took a sip of water. “How could he use that against you?”

  “I don’t know honestly, and I don’t want to start imagining the possibilities.”

  The sight of Bianca sitting across from him was stunning. Her soft red hair draped over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the navy t-shirt. A shower of freckles covered the delicate ivory skin on her neck and arms. He wanted to memorize each and every one.

  “I’ve been talking about myself a lot. Tell me something about you.”

  She smiled and her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “What do you want to know?”

  “What made you so interested in food?”

  She scrunched her lips over to the side, like she was thinking. “Before my dad left, my mom used to cook all the time, wonderful food. It’s sort of connected in my head with happy times, you know?”

  He nodded. It was a shame her entire life hadn’t been happy times. She was such a kind person, that’s what she deserved.

  “And now, I see all these big super farms draining the soil of nutrients and polluting the land with pesticides, not to mention our bodies. I just feel passionate about bringing back real food. The way it used to be produced, which I guess you’re familiar with.”

  “Back then we didn’t call it organic food, it was just food.” He smiled.

  “Exactly.” She set her fork on her empty plate, and then placed her elbows on the table, resting her head in her palm. Her tongue ran along the edge of her lips. It slid along her top lip and then across the bottom before her teeth pulled the swell and she gave it a tiny bite. She sighed and slid her hand through her hair. The fiery strands fell over her toned shoulders. His gaze traveled down her neck to the delicate skin on her collarbone wher
e it disappeared beneath the t-shirt he’d worn many times.

  “If you’re done, we could go sit on the couch,” she said.

  Shit. He was in no condition to get up from the table. He cleared his throat. “Maybe we could just sit here a bit longer.” Heat flooded his cheeks as he looked down at Aldo, sleeping by his feet and took a few deep breaths.

  “My clothes probably need moved to the dryer.”

  How could she be so completely clueless of the effect she had on him? “I’m just going to finish my water first.” He took a sip. Baseball, baseball, baseball.

  After Levi moved Bianca’s clothes to the dryer, he lit the fire in the hearth. The flames crackled, popped and enveloped them in warmth as he joined her on the couch.

  She tucked her legs underneath her and leaned against the armrest. Too far away.

  His arms itched to pull her against him. But the liquid courage he’d had before had long faded. “I hope you don’t mind staying so long. I guess I’m sort of holding you hostage since I took your clothes.”

  Her face flooded with color. “I don’t mind at all. Actually, I like spending time with you.”

  He smiled and his fists squeezed to keep from reaching to cup her blushed cheeks. She had a lot to deal with right now, trying to process the curse and he wouldn’t make things any harder by getting too close. But, damn, it would feel good to touch her.

  Bianca played with the worn threads of the plaid upholstery as the orange flames danced in the fireplace. Levi’s thigh rested only a few inches from hers and every nerve on the left side of her body had come alive in response. Her body begged to crawl into his arms and lean against his square shoulders and hard chest. When he’d held her before, it’d felt so right, so safe and good. And it’d made her want so much more.

  “Do you want to play cards?” he asked.

  “Sure.” Her mind immediately jumped to strip poker. She cleared her throat. “I like Rummy.”