by Olivia Miles
She blinked away the tears and closed the drawer gently.
“Can I ask you a question, Dad?” she blurted, not even sure why she needed to know, but suddenly finding that she did. Badly. There were so many unanswered questions, emotions that hadn’t been voiced because they’d each been trying to protect the other.
“Anything,” he said, fumbling with the remote.
“Why did you want me to take over the orchard? I haven’t been back in fourteen years. Why would you want me?”
He set his hand down and stared at her, his expression folding into one of complete surprise and tenderness. “My girl, why wouldn’t I want you? Who else could pass down the Conway family traditions as you have?”
“But Amelia and Maddie—”
“Oh, Maddie’s carrying down the traditions in her own way, with the pies, of course. And Amelia’s running a successful operation over there. She learned that cooking from your mother. And Cora. She loves Christmas even more than your mother, and that woman didn’t even want to take the tree down until all the needles had fallen off.” He chuckled at the memory until his smile turned sad. “But you, Britt, you loved that orchard. Maybe even more than I ever did. God knows you’d probably do a better job running it.”
“I know about the loan,” Britt said. It was easier, talking about facts, about finances, and business than everything else. But her heart was hammering and her eyes were clouding and she couldn’t let go of what he’d said, because it was true. She had loved that orchard. It was every bit her home that this house ever was.
Dennis waved his hand through the air. “We’ve had some better years than others. I know what works. I know what doesn’t.”
She waited for him to say that this was why things should never change.
Instead, he surprised her by saying, “But you know the heart of that place, Britt. And I think you alone would know how to make everyone see how special it is, not just this family. It’s not all about profit, I’ve learned. It’s about the people. And the traditions. That’s what mattered to your mother, and to me. And I can’t see anyone else carrying on that legacy other than you.”
Legacy. The word hit something deep inside her, tugging at a possibility. Tapping at a purpose.
Britt swallowed hard, trying to take it all in. What her father was saying was true. She could make people see how special Conway Orchard was. She could make the business everything it was meant to be. And the money her mother had left her—the money she had saved for just the right reason—could save it. Carry it on.
But what her father was telling her was that the business was never meant to be a huge financial success. It was meant to be authentic, and honest, and hard-working, and small. Something you stood by, through the good years and the bad years. Something that could be passed down and carried along. Like the pies that Maddie baked, not because she cared how many she sold, but because she cared enough to keep that special recipe alive.
“Can I ask you another question, Dad?” She looked from the blanket on his lap to the flowers in the window, to the little stack of inspiration sticky-notes attached to the edge of his TV tray. “Do you miss Mom?”
His eyes were sharp on hers. “Every damn day,” he whispered.
“I’m happy that you found someone, Dad,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “I just hope you didn’t turn away from love because of me.”
“Your mother was one of a kind. Just like the four of you girls. No one is looking to replace her, Britt. And for a long time, I never thought I could fill that space in my heart reserved for her.” He sighed. “Then one day, I realized, I didn’t have to. There’s room in here for whatever we choose to let in.”
Britt gave her father a watery smile. Whatever we choose to let in, she repeated to herself.
For far too long, all she could think about was what she could push out, but today, she had a second chance to change that. And there weren’t many second chances in life, were there?
15
That night, Robbie took Keira over to the inn for a Sunday night dinner with his parents and brother—something they tried to do once a month since he’d come back to town and usually stuck to, especially since Tony in the kitchen always cooked them the fish and chips that had been every bit the staple of his childhood that his mother’s holiday turkey dinners had been. It was part of Robbie’s effort to establish a routine for Keira more than anything, and she wasn’t shy about telling him just how much she looked forward to these nights, even if at first Robbie had dreaded the social effort, even with his own family.
Soon, though, the conversation and company was a bright spot on the calendar for both of them—a chance for him to break away from his own solitude and comfort, and a chance to relax, and even laugh. Once again, his daughter had shown him that what he wanted was best for him was what made her happy—even if he didn’t see that at first.
Keira was happiest being around other people. Letting life in, rather than hiding from it.
And right now, it would be so easy to hide again. To shield himself from the pain. To try to protect her from it.
Britt was leaving. Keira would be disappointed, but she would bounce back.
And he…he supposed he should have known this would happen. That he shouldn’t be feeling all the anger and disappointment that had plagued him all day.
Tonight, even the idea of Tony’s fish and chips couldn’t entice him, and the thought of sitting at their usual round table in the restaurant of the inn, pretending like everything was okay, was almost worse than the thought of being home, alone once Keira went to bed, replaying the events of the past few weeks over and over.
But if there was one thing that his time with Britt had taught him, it was that being alone was worse than opening himself up again. And it certainly wasn’t what was best for Keira. Besides, she’d reminded him no less than six times that tonight there was a hot fudge sundae on the menu—something that Robbie knew Tony added to the Sunday night specials specifically because Keira always asked for one.
Jackson was the first person Robbie saw when he walked in—sitting at their usual table near the hearth—his night off from the bar. Robbie braced himself for the teasing that his brother could never seem to resist, knowing that word travelled fast in this town and would have probably made it all the way to these walls by now. He couldn’t have been more relieved when he saw his mother walk in the room before he had taken a seat. Keira could always be relied on to hold court for the beginning of these family meals, and as usual, they were all happy to listen to her share the details of her week.
Robbie waited to see if Britt’s name would be mentioned, and was happy to see that it was not.
He took a sip of his iced water. One hurdle cleared. But there would be more.
They had barely placed their orders when Jackson grinned and said, “Natalie Clark came back the other night looking for you.”
Robbie pretended to be unaware of this and tried to shrug it off, but there was no denying the light in his mother’s eyes. He stifled a groan and glanced at his daughter, but Keira was coloring in a book, tuned out of the conversation.
“Don’t get your hopes up too much, Mom,” Jackson was the one to warn. “If you ask me, Robbie still has his sights set on Britt.”
So Jackson didn’t know about Britt then. But it wouldn’t be long before he did. Before they all did. Best to end this right here and now.
Robbie licked his lower lip, knowing that he could shut this conversation down with a simple statement of fact, but he didn’t want to say it in front of Keira.
“Daddy,” Keira said, looking up. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
He pushed his chair back, happy for an excuse to leave the table, but this time she just grinned and said, “I can find it by myself. I know the way.”
“It’s practically her second home,” his dad pointed out.
Robbie sat back down, watching as his little girl skipped across the dining room to the back ha
llway. She was growing up. She was showing her independence. She was showing him that she would be okay.
“Britt’s leaving town,” he said firmly, not meeting anyone’s eye. There. That should do it. No more hints. No more teasing. Couldn’t they just eat in silence for a change? Talk about the weather? Or the business at the inn? Some difficult guests had surely checked in since their last meal together—someone who could perhaps top last month’s story about the guest who asked for twelve pillows for reasons they never knew?
He waited for his mother’s groan of disappointment, or maybe even some shame in his brother’s eyes for once.
Instead, when he looked up, he saw that every member of his family was staring at him expectedly.
Finally, his mother spoke. “And you’re just going to let her go?”
He blinked in surprise. “It’s her choice.”
“But is it really what she wants?” Bonnie shook her head. “And what about what you want? Do you want her to go?”
Of course he didn’t, but he couldn’t say that, didn’t even want to admit it to himself.
“It’s not my decision to make,” he said firmly. Britt was a grown woman. A woman who had chosen to pursue a career instead of love.
Or a woman who had chosen to run from her feelings—for the second time in her life.
Just like he had done. And maybe, just like he was doing now.
“It’s your life, brother,” Jackson said, giving him a look of naked disapproval. “But you don’t get many second chances, do you?”
Robbie stared at his brother’s face, for once not teasing, his eyes flat, not full of mirth like usual, and despite himself, he cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Jackson. When did you get so smart?”
“Just looking out for my little brother,” he said, back to his mischievous grin. “You know I always have your back, even if I give you a hard time.”
Robbie knew it. They all did.
It was why he’d come home. Why he’d come to this dinner. And why he could never leave this town again.
And why Britt shouldn’t either.
*
Britt awoke to the sun shining through her pink curtains, the quilt heavy on her body, and Candy’s soprano floating up the stairs.
And despite the crack in Candy’s voice when she tried to hit that last note, Britt was almost pleased for the sound of it.
Robbie had been right about what he said the other day. Her mother would have been happy to know that this house was not sitting empty. That it was once again filled with smiles and laughter, and singing, however bad.
And she’d be happy to know that Maddie was carrying on the tradition of her pies, and that the lucky few who arrived early on market day to buy one would enjoy them at the dinner table later that night.
And what would her mother make of Britt’s decision, she wondered, as she showered and dressed for the day.
But she didn’t need to ponder that thought for long. She knew. In her heart of hearts, she had always known.
Her mother wanted what was best for her. What made her happy. It had just taken Britt a long time to know what that was.
Her suitcase was packed and ready, at the foot of her bed, and she loaded her toiletries into the tote bag she swung over her shoulder. Candy was standing at the stove when she arrived downstairs a minute later, and before Britt could even say good morning, Candy was thrusting a brown paper bag at her with a big grin.
“For the road,” she explained. “In case you get hungry. No pressure.”
Britt didn’t need to look inside to know that they were Candy’s “famous” cheese biscuits. She offered her first genuine smile to the woman who had brought her father such unexpected joy in the past few weeks, and a second chance at sharing his life with someone instead of living in the past.
“Thank you, Candy,” Britt said. They were still warm, and from the smell alone, Britt knew she’d eat at least two before she’d even crossed the town line. But it wasn’t just the breakfast that she was grateful for it. “For everything. You’ve…taken good care of my father. I’m not sure he even knew what he needed or what would make him happy until you came along.”
Candy’s cheeks turned pink as her smile bloomed. “Honey, no one knows what makes them happy until it shows up on the doorstep. And sometimes, it has to knock loudly. And ring the doorbell, if you get my drift.” She laughed merrily and Britt realized for the first time since arriving that it was a lovely, contagious sound.
“Well, I’d better go say good-bye to my father,” she said with a sigh.
She walked down the hall to the study and poked her head around the door. Her father was scratching at the inside of his arm cast with a ruler.
“This thing can’t come off soon enough!” he complained.
“End of the week, right?” Britt marveled at how quickly the time had passed. “Then it’s back to normal.”
From the kitchen, Candy was breaking out in song again. Dennis skirted his eyes to the door and back to her, hiding his smile. “Maybe not completely back to normal.”
Britt grinned. “It’s a long drive. I should probably get going.”
“You be safe,” her dad said, accepting the ginger hug she offered him.
“I should be telling you that,” she joked. Britt couldn’t help but still worry about injuring him worse, but he was a strong man, she knew. Stronger than she’d known. “I’ll call you to let you know when I arrive.”
“I’ll be here,” he replied as he reached for the ruler again.
Britt lingered in the doorway, clutching the warm bag of biscuits, watching her father with a full heart, knowing that he would be right here. And that he wouldn’t be alone.
Her bags were at the foot of the stairs where she’d left them, and she opened the front door to carry them out to her car—and came face to face with Robbie Bradford.
“Robbie.” She stared at him, not sure why he would be here, unless her father had called him over to discuss business matters.
He glanced down at the suitcase in her hand and back up at her. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
She hesitated. She had hoped to be getting into Chicago before rush hour traffic hit in the midafternoon. But seeing the way his forehead pinched where his brows met, she couldn’t refuse him.
She set the suitcase down at her feet and closed the front door behind her. For a second, she had a flashback of standing on this very same porch with Robbie when they were younger, and he would walk her to the front door after their dates, give her a kiss goodnight. Sometimes a kiss that felt like it could last until the next morning.
“I didn’t try to stop you from leaving last time. I didn’t try to change your mind. But I’m here to change it now, Britt. If you’ll give me the chance.”
She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. “Please. I need to say this.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“After Keira’s mom died, I tried to shut out the world. And I came back here, and I saw that I didn’t have to be alone. That there are people who care, if you let them.” He reached out and took her hand. “And I care, Britt. About you. And I know that I’ve been happier in these past couple of weeks than I have been in a long time. And Keira’s been happier too. And I think if you stopped and thought about it, you’d know that you were happier here, Britt. I know you. I know you.”
Hot tears burned in her eyes, and she couldn’t blink them away if she tried. “You do know me. Everyone here does. And you were right, that I have been happier back in Blue Harbor than I ever was one day in Chicago. Or on the road. No one knew me, or what I’d been through, and I thought that would be easier somehow. But it wasn’t.”
“Then why go?”
“I have to go,” she said slowly. She gave him a small smile. “Because I have to pack up my apartment before the new tenant moves in next weekend.”
He frowned, trying to understand. “You mean…you’re staying?”
She nodded. “You said somethin
g yesterday that I needed to hear. I sacrificed a lot when I left this town all those years. I left my sisters, my father, my friends and neighbors. The orchard. But most of all, I left my heart behind, because my heart belonged with you. And it still does, Robbie.”
He pulled in a breath and looked down at her, a little smile quirking the corner of his mouth.
“You know, I think it was right here on this very porch where we had our last kiss before I left town.”
He tipped his head, grinning now. “Who said it had to be our last kiss?”
“Not me,” she said. “And I’m hoping that’s not what you want either.”
“All I ever wanted was for you to stay in Blue Harbor, Britt,” Robbie said, as he reached down and took her hands. “Then, and now.” Still, his eyes were questioning. “So you’re really staying?”
She smiled up at him as he leaned down to kiss her. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
epilogue
The Cherry Festival was everything that Britt could have hoped it would be: the sun was shining in a bright blue sky, and the entire town had turned out for the event within the first hour of the day. It was a larger event than usual, but that didn’t make it any less personal.
Maddie had made an extra dozen pies—and already sold them to eager locals. Amelia was assisted at her food stand by Cora, and even Candy had been put to use manning the cotton candy machine, something she seemed to take more joy in than the children, as she swirled the paper sticks through the pink confection.
“As sweet as Candy,” she laughed happily each time she handed over the treat.
Britt caught her dad’s eye and saw the little smile he couldn’t hide. Candy would never be their mother, and in many ways she couldn’t be more different. And maybe, that was for the best. It was certainly what was best for Britt’s father.
“I have to hand it to you,” Dennis said as he slowly moved toward her on his crutches. His arm cast was off and his leg would be healed in time to enjoy some long summer walks along the lakefront—something that Candy kept hinting at, though she insisted on using the term “romantic stroll.”
