A Home for Her Daughter

by Jill Weatherholt

  “In the letter you left me,” he said, unable to keep the question bottled up inside him any longer, “you said you were leaving because you couldn’t make me happy. And since I know that’s far from the truth, I have to ask, is it because of what happened between us that day?” He didn’t have to specify what day. They both knew what he was referring to. The day he had allowed the comfort he sought to give her following the unexpected news of her birth parents’ deaths due to overdoses to turn into something else. He should have been strong enough to stop things before they went too far between the two of them. It didn’t matter that he’d loved Lila with all of his heart. That he’d intended to ask her to marry him, to wear the ring he’d intended to surprise her with on her eighteenth birthday until they’d finished college and could begin their lives together as husband and wife.

  What they’d done that day had changed things between them. They both knew they had sinned. But while he knew that sins could be forgiven, Lila hadn’t seemed to be able to forgive herself, which had her distancing herself from not only him but the Lord, as well. She stopped going to church, making up excuses as to why she couldn’t go, and then began pushing him away emotionally. Before he could figure out a way to set things right between them, she was gone.

  “Mason,” she said with unexpected tenderness, “you and I both know neither of us were prepared for what happened between us. And we both know it was wrong in God’s eyes. I know because I saw the guilt there every time I looked into yours. Felt it myself.”

  “It was wrong,” he agreed, “but at the same time, it was right. I cared for you, Lila.” More than she would ever know.

  “And I cared for you,” she said with a regretful smile. Sadness filled her eyes. “I was so sorry to hear about your daddy’s passing. I wish I could have been here for you.”

  “But you weren’t,” he stated, hating the hurt he heard in his voice when he spoke. “In fact,” he said, “you were long gone by then.” His father had died from an undiagnosed heart condition a few years after Lila had gone. When he hadn’t returned from his church meeting, and hadn’t returned any of their mother’s calls, Mason and his younger brother, Jake, had offered to go check on him while their momma and Mason’s younger sister, Violet, continued making peach preserves to sell at their family fruit market. Mason and Jake had found him. He thanked the Lord every day that their mother hadn’t gone with them that day. That was not the last memory he wanted her to have of her husband.

  “Addy didn’t find out about your daddy’s passing until a week after his funeral. If I had known...” she said sorrowfully, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

  “What?” he scoffed, not wanting to talk about his father. Not wanting to talk about what she might have done when he knew better. “You would have come home?”

  Her gaze dropped once more.

  “I didn’t think so.” Distracted by the mention of his father’s passing, Mason nearly let her other words slide by. She wasn’t going to be the reason he gave up on his dream. That, and the shame their youthful indiscretion was why she had left all those years ago? Why hadn’t Lila come to him about her concerns? They’d talked about everything else, including her painful past and the insecurities it had left residing within her. Some of his anger left him. “You shouldn’t have given up the home you’d found for my sake. I didn’t need protecting, Lila. I would have faced up to what I’d done and set things right.”

  She dragged her gaze back up to meet his. “Mason...”

  “Dreams change, Lila. While I admit there was a time when I truly considered following in my daddy’s footsteps, a man whose dedication to the Lord and his congregation, even his family, was given wholeheartedly, I came to the realization in college that his calling was not the same as mine.” He motioned toward the fruit-laden trees beside them. “Mine was to work this land. To carry on what my granddaddy started here all those years ago. I ended up switching my major from theology to business and have focused on growing the family orchard and market sale ever since. Although I still devote some of my time to going on mission trips in honor of Daddy.”

  “I’m glad you’re doing what makes you happy,” she told him, her gaze moving in the direction of the fruit trees. “It looks like you made the right decision. The orchard looks more bountiful than I remember.”

  “It is,” he replied. “We updated the irrigation system, and Jake and I have been testing out a newer fertilizer. The crops have been responding well to it.”

  “I’ll bet your momma is beyond thrilled to have even more peaches to do wondrous things with.” She grew serious. “How is she doing?”

  The pain of his father’s loss still cut deep for him. He remembered how hard it had been to deal with the grief—without Lila. He could have turned to his family, but they’d had enough of their own hurt heaped onto their emotional plates without him adding to it. He’d gotten through it. As his mother liked to point out, the Landerses were made of strong Southern stock. They could get through anything.

  “She stays busy,” he answered, grateful that his mother had the family fruit market and bakery to keep her occupied.

  “Addy said you renovated the market.”

  “We did,” he acknowledged with a nod. “I drew up plans, and then Jake and I added on to the building, opening it up into one large commercial area to sell peaches and baked goods.”

  Mason had always had a gift for creating ideas on paper. “It sounds so nice. I’m sure your momma loves it.”

  “She does. The new layout makes it easier for her to check customers out at one register rather than running back and forth from the market to the bakery when Violet isn’t able to help out.” The Perfect Peach was twice the size it had once been, his mother’s pride and joy, and boasted a large selection of related items, such as lotions with peach extract, scented candles, T-shirts—you name it.

  “I’m glad she has you all to lean on.”

  You could have had me to lean on, too, he thought bitterly. “That’s what families do,” he said, then regretted his comment when he saw the sadness that filled her pretty bright blue eyes. Lila had never had a family of her own. Mrs. Tully had been the closest thing she’d ever had. Even after moving to Sweet Springs, Lila had still clung to hope that her mother and father would get the help they needed that would allow them to finally be a real family. When they’d died, it had broken her emotionally.

  And it had been his efforts to draw her back from that dark place, his need to comfort her and take away the pain, that had drawn them both down the wrong path. Not that he hadn’t loved Lila—he had—but they should have been older. They should have been married.

  Her wounded gaze strayed to the house and then back to him, this time not quite meeting his. “I should go get the rest of my things. It was nice seeing you again.” She started past him in the direction of what must have been her Jeep.

  “Do you really think staying here is a good idea?”

  Lila stopped and turned to look at him. “I know you’d probably prefer otherwise, but I need to be here. Even more so when Mama Tully comes home, which I hope will be very soon.”

  “Her doctor says it could be another week or longer,” he explained. His mother had been visiting Mrs. Tully that morning when her doctor came in to check on her. Peritonitis had set in after her appendix burst, requiring not only the removal of the organ but also to eliminate the infection and avoid sepsis, meaning an even longer recovery time.

  “Well, that will give me plenty of time to see to it that Mama Tully’s house is in tip-top shape before she gets home. She’s going to need to rest and not fuss over sweeping and dusting and whatnot. Oh, and I’ll need to tend to her vegetable garden. And—”

  “That’s my job,” he cut in.

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Excuse me?”

  “I take it Mrs. Tully didn’t think to mention that I’m looking after her place
while she’s in the hospital?”

  “If she had, I wouldn’t have been so shocked to see you,” she pointed out. “If you recall, I thought you were out of the country. Actually, she never mentioned any names, just that the dogs were being cared for until I could get here to look after them.”

  “I recall,” he replied. “You’re welcome to do any housekeeping you think needs done, and take over with Honey and Grits, but I’ll be seeing to the yardwork and garden as promised. Which, of course, means we’re bound to cross paths if you plan on staying here. Are you going to be okay with that?”

  She hesitated at that and then said, “I’m sure Mama Tully appreciates the help you’ve been able to give her, but I’m perfectly capable of mowing her grass and weeding her vegetable garden as well while I’m staying here.”

  Oh, how the set of her jaw brought back memories of the Lila who had first come to live in Sweet Springs. They’d met in the summer in his family orchard. He’d been out walking and had come across Lila sitting beneath one of the peach trees, writing in her journal. She’d been defensive, stubborn, with emotional walls that were sky-high. She’d let down her guard around him over time, trusting him, confiding in him. Yet, she had always remained determined not to let anyone else do something for her she could do for herself.

  That apparently hadn’t altered any. Not that he planned to try. The less interaction he had with her, the better, as far as he was concerned. She could see to her commitments to Mrs. Tully and he would see to his. Or Lila could make the whole situation far less complicated and go back to wherever it was she’d come from. He and his family could see to Mrs. Tully when she came home. Even as that option settled in his mind, another part of him—his contrary heart, to be precise—jumped for joy inside his chest at the thought of Lila sticking around.

  “Until I hear differently from Mrs. Tully, I’ll still be stopping by to see to the responsibilities I’ve taken on here.”

  “Mason,” she pleaded.

  “Lila,” he countered evenly. He wondered whatever he could be thinking, falling into this battle of wills with Lila.

  “Fine,” Lila said before he could reconsider his stance on the matter and relinquish responsibility to her. “You take care of the grounds, and I’ll see to the pups. I think it would be best, however, if we set a scheduled time for you to come by. Or you could call before stopping by.”

  “If that will help you sleep at night,” he countered with a nonchalant shrug, as if her wanting to be anywhere but where he was didn’t jab at a part of his heart he’d thought permanently numbed. “Jake and I usually make our rounds through the orchards in the mornings, sometimes into the first part of the afternoon. I’ll do my best to stop by here, say, at three or four every afternoon. Feel free to go into town or stay in the house while I’m here. It makes no difference to me.” It was probably for the best he hadn’t gone into preaching, because that was far from true.

  “That works for us,” Lila muttered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to finish unpacking the car.”

  “Us?” His gaze shifted immediately to the old Victorian. Someone had come with her? A husband? The second that possibility arose in his mind, he felt an even stronger stirring of emotion. Jealousy? The last thing he should be feeling, considering Lila was not his girl. Hadn’t been for nearly a decade. She wasn’t even a girl anymore. She was a woman. A stranger behind that beautiful face he’d never forgotten. Lord knew, he wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with any of this. But deal with it he would. Maybe once he’d had time to let things sink in, time to work through the maelstrom of emotions seeing Lila again had stirred up inside him, he’d be better prepared to cope.

  “Us,” she repeated, casting an anxious glance toward the old house. “I was referring to the dogs and myself.”

  He exhaled the breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, then muttered with a frown, “Well, then, I’d best make myself scarce.” Turning away, he started into the orchard, pausing to glance back over his shoulder at her. “Just so you know, I could have been happy with you.” That said, he walked away.

  Copyright © 2020 by Kimberly Duffy

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  ISBN-13: 9781488060403

  A Home for Her Daughter

  Copyright © 2020 by Jill Weatherholt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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