Читать книгу Apple Orchard Bride - Jessica Keller - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Jenna dumped chunks of mushrooms into the skillet, followed by a chopped onion and a handful of fresh thyme, pressed garlic, and a dash of salt and pepper. The mixture popped and sizzled in the hot pan, and the earthy aroma from the blend of seasonings made her mouth water. She’d skipped lunch again, hadn’t she? Not intentionally. She’d just gotten busy. Jenna rolled her shoulders once. There was way too much to get done before their orchard opened to the public next weekend.

Dad clanked a cup with a plate as he set the table.

She pivoted to watch his movements. How long until he couldn’t move at all? Until he lost his sight? Until...?

She had to stop. Those thoughts weren’t helpful. More often than not, his gait was jerky and his arms volleyed between the extremes of shaky and stiff, robotic. He tried to hide it. Tried to quell her worries. But watching him made fear claw through her stomach all the same.

Jenna tightened her grip on the skillet’s handle.

Not my dad. Don’t do this to him. Why is this happening? Why don’t You care?

She absently scraped the spatula through the mushrooms. “You don’t have to do that,” she said to her father.

“I’m perfectly capable of setting a table.” He had four more glasses tucked between his arm and chest.

Another clank.

Jenna raised her eyebrows but then took in a deep breath. Even though she wanted to march across the kitchen and pull the cups from his hands, she forced her feet to stay by the oven. It didn’t do to argue with him. It just made his face fall, as if he thought she wanted to hurt him. He didn’t get it. She was trying to take care of him, make his life easier, and trying to tax him as little as possible so he’d live longer. Why couldn’t he see that?

“Jenna, I’m fine.”

He moved to set down the next cup and lost hold of it. The glass smacked the edge of the heavy butcher-block-style tabletop, rocketed toward the ground and shattered. He made a late move to try to catch the glass, which sent a second cup down the same path of destruction.

Shards shot around the room like a firecracker going off.

“Oh, dear.” Dad gripped the back of the chair and hung his head.

“I’ll get it. Don’t move.” Jenna lurched forward, but smoke curled from the skillet. She needed to take out the mushrooms and put the fillets in, or else dinner would be ruined. But Dad was barefoot and shouldn’t be near the glass. He couldn’t drop to his knees and clean the mess up either, because it would be too hard for him to get back up off the floor.

She’d have to do it. And figure out how to salvage dinner later.

Although truthfully, all she felt like doing was crying or screaming. Both at once didn’t sound so bad. Watching her father deteriorate piece by piece each day felt as if someone was slowly puncturing the deepest parts of her heart, creating holes where hope and faith leaked out of her life. Drip by drip. Never to return.

The back door opened. Toby’s gaze went from the pile of glass on the ground to Jenna’s face. He held up a hand to block the child following behind him and then the other one to Jenna so she wouldn’t move. He mouthed, “Let me,” as he set a jug of fresh cider on the counter. Jenna nodded. She quickly dumped the mushrooms onto a waiting plate but decided to hold off on adding the fillet medallions until the chaos in the kitchen subsided.

Toby smiled at Dad, an understanding passing between them, and then turned toward the small girl. What struck Jenna most was that Kasey looked like a carbon copy of Toby’s cousin, Sophia. Her family used to visit the Holcombs every summer. Sophia had even stayed at Jenna’s house for a few girls’-night sleepovers. Kasey and her mother shared identical long, dark hair and striking green eyes.

Toby dropped to one knee and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, Kase, I’m going to help Mr. Crest, but first I want you to meet a really good friend of mine.” He pointed toward Jenna. “This lady’s put up with me since she was younger than you are. Isn’t that wild?”

Kasey’s chin sank to her chest, and she inched closer to Toby.

He wrapped his arm around her. “It’s okay. These are good people. The best. So you don’t have to be afraid, all right? You already know Mr. Crest.” He gestured toward the man.

Dad waved, and despite the heap of glass at his feet, a genuine smile warmed his tanned face. “Hey there, pumpkin. I was wondering when you’d come and visit me again.”

Toby smiled a thank you and then moved so that he and Kasey were facing Jenna. Jenna got down to one knee, too, and summoned the warmest smile she had.

“This is Jenna. I know you’re going to love her.” Toby smoothed a hand down Kasey’s hair. “Because she’s my best friend in the whole world.”

Jenna’s breath caught, and it suddenly felt like everything in the room had turned and slammed into her chest. She’s my best friend in the whole world. Why would Toby say something like that? Of course, he was trying to make Kasey feel comfortable around her, Jenna got that. But he shouldn’t lie to her. Children were perceptive, more so than most people realized. She’d been older—fifteen—when Mom died, but people had lied to her to try to make her feel better, too. It never worked. Once the grieving kid figured out someone they trusted lied, then they started to question everything. Or learned to pull inward. Neither were good choices.

Kasey’s shy gaze met Jenna’s and then skittered away, back to Toby’s face. “She’s really pretty,” Kasey whispered to her guardian.

Toby rose to his feet, and his eyes found Jenna’s. “You’re right. She is.”

Jenna opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Why was Toby torturing her? He knew how to say the right things to get what he wanted. That’s all he was doing. If only she’d figured that out back when she was a teenager. From the age of nine or ten up until seventeen, Jenna had pictured herself marrying him. Toby had been her hero. Her everything, if she was being honest. Until he’d made a fool of her, led the school in mocking her and then left.

She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t live near him. But their lives intertwined now. If she didn’t need help on the orchard and with Dad, and if Toby didn’t have Kasey and need a place to stay, she’d tell him to leave. Forever. But she did need help, and Kasey needed a home. Jenna was stuck.

As if someone had squeezed a corset around her waist, Jenna’s lungs felt tight and boxed in. She forced out a breath and held her hand toward Kasey. “I could really use help with dinner.”

Toby pressed on the child’s back, and she tiptoed over and slipped her fingers into Jenna’s. Kasey’s hand was so tiny it made Jenna’s heart constrict.

“Do you like to cook?” Jenna asked.

“Yes,” Kasey answered shyly.

Toby spared them a warm, soft smile and then turned toward her father.

“Hang tight, Mr. Crest. I’ll dig you out.”

Dad shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. Sorry to burden you all.”

Toby crossed to the closet that held all the cleaning supplies. Evidently, even after ten years, he still remembered where they kept everything. “Not at all. Like all boys, I secretly wanted to be a fireman when I was younger, and you’re helping me live out my dream.” He pretended to push up sleeves, even though he was wearing a crisp navy blue T-shirt. “Commencing rescue mission.” He bent over and swept up the majority of the shards before moving onto his hands and knees with damp paper towels. “I think the glassware companies have some sort of conspiracy going. They need us to break their stuff so we buy more.” He moved the chair and hunted for pieces under the table.

Dad chuckled. “Of course. They implant them with invisible computer chips, and they’re programmed to jump out of our hands after a certain time of ownership passes.”

“Exactly.” Toby crawled toward the pantry and deposited more glass into the trash can.

Charm might as well have been Toby’s middle name, especially where her father was concerned. He’d always had a soft spot for her childhood friend, and their latest interaction reminded Jenna why. If she weren’t determined to dislike Toby, his tender kidding with Dad would have warmed her heart.

Too bad she didn’t care about anything having to do with Toby.

Jenna pulled a chair over and then fished a spare apron out of the linen drawer. She looped it over Kasey’s head. “I’ve got red potatoes in the Crock-Pot, and it’s just about time to mash them. Think you could do that?”

Kasey nodded. “I’m really good at mashing.”

“I thought you might be.” Jenna winked at her as she offered Kasey a hand to climb up onto the chair. She unplugged the Crock-Pot and pulled it closer. After she adjusted all the ingredients so they were within Kasey’s reach, she explained when to add the butter, cream and seasonings and told her to go ahead and mash away.

Toby finished cleaning the floor and had Dad settled around the same time that Jenna finished the steak medallions. She plated the mashed potatoes and meat, covering both with the mushroom cream sauce.

Toby moved Kasey to the table, then sidled up beside Jenna. “Smells great.” His arm brushed against hers. “I forgot what a good cook you are.”

She twisted, shoving two plates into his hands. “Try it before you rave about it.”

“Don’t need to.” Toby placed a plate in front of Dad and the other before Kasey. “The smell alone is better than anything I’ve had in years.”

Jenna rinsed off her hands before she brought the other two plates to the table. Toby was in the seat next to hers, his arm hooked over the back of her chair. She had to lean close to set a plate in his spot. He smelled clean—she caught a hint of cedar—and his hair was still a bit damp from a recent shower. She finally dropped down into her seat. They had shared many meals around this table, sitting in the same places, knees nudging whenever they needed to share a secret joke or convey something without her parents noticing.