Her Guardian Rancher
Page 19
“Stop chatting about the old days as if we’re still friends.”
“Aren’t we?” His voice squeaked. Why did his voice squeak?
Sure, he hadn’t called or written in ten years—but then, neither had she. His parents talked to her dad regularly, so she could have gotten Toby’s information if she had wanted it. Evidently, she hadn’t. Women were like that though, weren’t they? For them to consider someone a friend, it seemed as if they had to talk weekly and catch up. Come to think of it, Toby’s mom always bugged him about returning her calls. Men could not talk for twenty years, bump into an old buddy fishing and suddenly act like they hadn’t missed any time. Men didn’t need all the “Why didn’t you ever call?” nonsense.
Jenna stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “Listen, you might as well go pack your things because I’m going to talk to my father, and when I’m done, he’s going to un-offer you that position.”
Her hands were fisted at her sides. She looked like she might start yelling. Which wasn’t like the Jenna from his memories. She’d always been smiling, quick to tease him but also the first and most constant encourager in his life. For a long time, she’d been the only one who believed he was good enough to become a professional athlete.
Unfortunately, he’d ended up disappointing everyone. Especially Jenna.
Maybe returning to Goose Harbor had been a mistake. Even still, they both knew Mr. Crest would never toss him out after offering him a job and a place to stay. Jenna’s dad was a man of his word.
“You know that—”
“We don’t need more help on the orchard.” She lifted her chin. “I’m doing just fine on my own, and we always hire seasonal help once harvest gets into full swing anyway.”
Toby’s gaze raked over her. Frustration had always made her appealing, but there was something more that captured his attention today. Her pale cheeks became the color of sunset pink. Her dark blue eyes deepened, like the crashing waves of Lake Michigan right before a storm. Gone was his awkward once-best friend. She was replaced by a gorgeous woman with thick eyelashes and wavy golden curls. The pleated jeans were now dark-wash ones that accentuated the curve of her hips and the narrowing of her waist, and the Crest Orchard T-shirt she wore hugged her torso. Jenna had grown up to become a beautiful woman.
She leaned her head forward and arched her eyebrow. “You have nothing to say? Absolutely nothing?”
Right. He should have said something, but his mouth had gone dry. What was she asking if he had anything to say about? Was she referring to her threat to get her father to fire him, or was she trying to get him to talk about something...deeper? Knowing Jenna, it was the second.
He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. For whatever it is I did to upset you, I’m sorry.”
“For whatever it is I did.” She mimicked his voice. “Nice, Toby. Real nice. I should have known you’d never own up to anything.”
“I’d be happy to own up to it if I knew what you were talking about.”
“So what happened? Huh?” She cocked her head to the side. “You finally messed up your life so badly down there in Florida that you had to come crawling back here to our podunk farm and beg for a job. Life is funny, isn’t it?” She lifted her hands, palms up, to indicate him. “Here you are...stuck in a place you openly scorned.”
Confusion tied his gut in a knot. “Jenna...”
“I suppose even a place and people you consider beneath you is better than jail though, right?”
Excellent. So she knew about his drunk-driving arrests, too. He had a huge hill to climb in order to convince people in Goose Harbor that he wasn’t that Toby anymore. “They don’t actually keep you in jail. You get out on bond,” he mumbled.
“You don’t remember, do you?” She laughed once, but the sound held no humor. “I guess something like spreading rumors about the poor, backward folk who lived across the street from you is an understandable slip of the mind. The great Toby Holcomb leaves a big wake and never looks back.”
At least she wasn’t focusing on his arrests. But...what was she talking about? “I’ve never said—”
“Don’t try to deny it. I heard you. More than once, I overheard you telling people about the orchard.” Jenna worked her tiny jaw back and forth. She cupped her hand over her forehead and released a long sigh. “None of that matters now. That was a long time ago. You’ve moved on. I’ve moved on. So...let’s keep with that notion and move you out of here.” She turned away and started for the farmhouse again.
Toby kept pace with her but didn’t say anything. What could he say? Nothing. Sometimes silence was the best option. He’d use the next few weeks to unravel the reasons Jenna was so upset with him, and then he’d spend the weeks after that making up for his wrongs, no matter if they were real or only perceived.
He couldn’t accept the fact that she might not forgive him or that things couldn’t go back to how they were before. They had to. He wanted to make her laugh again and suddenly longed to find their old haunts and set out on new adventures together. Dream about their futures, as they’d done before. Here at the orchard, they were somehow sheltered from the real world and the issues in their lives from the past years. He was able to breathe deeply here, and he felt more like himself than he’d felt...since he left. And Jenna was a part of that, wasn’t she? Even with ten years of distance between them, she knew him better than anyone else alive.
He’d make things right between them. He had to. Because as he walked beside her through the orchard again—even with the two of them at odds—his heart had never felt more at home. Perhaps that’s why his relationships in Florida had never worked, had never felt right.
His heart had been stuck in Goose Harbor all along.
Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Koschnitzky
ISBN-13: 9781488018039
Her Guardian Rancher
Copyright © 2016 by Brenda Minton
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com