“Here’s what I’d like to do—and I’ve spoken to Tom about my idea. I have a couple of very big weekends coming up. If you’re agreeable, you could pick apples until lunchtime, run to town and fetch Adie and the little ones and come back. We’ll give them lunch and I think they’ll either nap or maybe Berry will even help. I think a few of my friends will arrive later in the week—you’ll like them. They’re as ancient as I am, catty as can be, a little on the doting side when it comes to small children and they give Tom as much grief as they can get by with. Would you like to help me in the afternoons this week?”

“Oh, Maxie, I would love to!”

“I think Martha would rather hike than bake, but I’ll leave you to extend an invitation to her, as well.”

* * *

It seemed to be the natural order of things in Maxie’s house that afternoon just stretched into evening—everyone gathered around her dinner table for a meal that had been started in the afternoon along with the baking. The little girls napped and when they didn’t, Berry stood on a stool in the big kitchen, stirring, and Fay sat in her booster chair amidst the commotion, playing and snacking.

By dinner on Wednesday, they had accomplished a great deal—there was apple butter, apple pies stored in the root cellar where it was cool, all kinds of cookies for the weekend festivities. Nora had also learned to bake bread and make cinnamon rolls; the fall vegetables had come in, so there was zucchini bread galore.

Nora worked as hard in the kitchen as she did in the orchard. “Pace yourself,” she said to Maxie. “Don’t wear yourself out before your big weekend.”

“Oh, darling, this doesn’t tire me—it energizes me! I love feeding people.”

Nora looked forward to dinnertime the most—the leaf was put in the table and everyone gathered around it, laughing, eating, telling tall tales. Adie was in her element—she couldn’t do things like this at home alone and loved being with friends. And when Tom came in cold and tired after a long day in the orchard, he was not the same man Nora had met when she first applied for the job. He was cheerful and playful and she tried valiantly to tamp down fantasies of being the woman in his home when he finished his day’s work.

But it was when Berry held out a cookie and said, in a voice loud and clear, “Tom! Eat dis! I maked it!” Nora just kind of went over the edge. And she had to run and hide.

* * *

“Where’s Nora?” Tom asked.

The women all looked around. “Bathroom?” Adie suggested.

“No one in there,” Tom said. “Keep an eye on the girls, I’ll find her.” He took a beer with him through the living room, dining room, even upstairs. Finally he grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door and went outside to find her huddled in a wicker chair in a far corner of the porch. Crying and shivering.

“Hey, now,” he said, whipping off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. He pulled a matching chair close to her. “What’s with this? Why are you crying?”

“It’s complicated,” she said with a hiccup in her voice. “It’s just that I started feeling so…so safe. So much like being a part of a big, wonderful family. And then Berry…”

“What about Berry?” he asked. “She’s having fun.”

“She’s having so much fun,” Nora said. She sniffed. “Honestly, what a wimp I am. I held it together through new toys, clothes and even furniture, but this week…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanky, handing it to her. She looked at it cautiously and said, “You sure?”

“Blow,” he said. “Then talk to me.”

She blew her nose. Hard. A little laugh escaped through her tears.

“Now talk,” he said.

“I don’t expect you to understand, but when I was growing up and it was just my mother and I, we didn’t have fun times like this. We didn’t have people around. And Berry…” She crumbled again.

“What about Berry?” he pushed.

“Did you hear her? Did you hear her talk? Like she was giving orders? She’s growing out of that severe shyness, Tom.”

“Sure,” he said, baffled. “She’s getting used to all of us. She’s been around us a lot lately… .”

“I was so worried about her,” Nora said. “I was worried about all of us—about us ever getting it together, having enough to get by, to stop being afraid!”

He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Were you afraid?” he asked softly.

“Oh, you have no idea… .”

He smothered a chuckle. “You always act so brave,” he said.

“Yeah, I act,” she told him. “What else am I gonna do? Growing up I was timid, scared of everything.”

“You?”

“Oh, my gosh, I was so scared of making my mother or teachers or anyone mad. And then what did I do but allow all that timidity to get me hooked up with this stupid guy who made my mother look like a day at the beach. There were times when I was pregnant…”

She was quiet for a moment and he took her hand. “Tell me. You were scared. Tell me.”

“Oh, Tom, you don’t want to hear all that… It’s all so humiliating, so maudlin.” But he nodded and she said, “Okay, I was on welfare and I worried all the time—that I’d be killed in my bed because I lived in such a scary place surrounded by gangs and dealers. Scared that I wouldn’t be able to protect my children. And I thought life was hard when I lived with an angry mother, then it got so much harder. When I bake with Maxie and eat at your table, I remember those times the social worker gave me supplemental protein drinks so I’d have enough calories for the pregnancy and I… I just never thought I’d have this kind of life—picking food from the garden, baking in a warm kitchen, sitting with my children at a table filled with such happiness and laughter… .”

He found himself stroking the hair over her ear. He had an unwelcome flash of Darla in her expensive boots, picking at her meal, taking it all for granted. He reminded himself that Darla shouldn’t be ridiculed for making something of herself. And she’d certainly had her own heartache.

“When Chad left me in this town, even though I didn’t know how we would survive, I was so relieved that he was gone, that I was in a place not so terrifying, and… If it hadn’t been for Noah…”

Tom wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Did he hurt you?”

“Noah?” she asked, incredulous. “Of course not! Noah helped, but I didn’t make it easy for him. It’s so hard for me to trust anyone.”

He smiled at her. “But you trust Maxie?”

“Yes,” she said with a sniff and a smile. “I love Maxie.”

“And Adie?”

“Adie would never hurt a fly,” she said.

“Martha?”

“Martha is strong. So good, so responsible. I love her independence.”

“Jed?” he asked.

“It’s coming. I get more sure of him every week. He’s been so good to me. I’m going to let Maxie have a crack at him. If she trusts him…”

“Maxie has a sixth sense about things like that. I don’t know where she got it. Living life, I guess. And… me?” he asked. “You trust me?”

She gave him a shy smile. “I think so, yes,” she said.

“What do you think of stuffed grape leaves?” he asked.

A short burst of laughter escaped her. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“I bet you’d like them. And kabobs—you’d like them, too.”

“Tom, sometimes you confuse me.”

“Are you better now? As in, done crying?”

“I’ve done more crying since I met you than I’ve done in the past couple of years, and the past few years were definitely cry-worthy. I don’t think you bring out my best. I get so vulnerable around you. I tell you things I never tell anyone.”

“I think that’s okay. It means you think of me as a friend. Now here’s what we have to do, Nora. You have to dry your tears and go with me back in the kitchen. You don’t want the women to worry about you.”

“Right,” she agreed, wiping her eyes.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said. He held her beer toward her. “Want a sip?”

“Thanks,” she said, fitting her lips to the bottle. She tilted it up and took a swallow. She stood and gave him his jacket back. “This turned out to be so much more than a job, Tom,” she said. “I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”

“I know. Let’s get some dinner. I’m starving.”

“Me, too. Even though I sampled all day long.”

Dinner was some of Maxie’s best stew, a salad thrown together by Adie and bread baked by Nora—her bread debut. For her efforts, she took home a batch of cinnamon rolls and promised to be back bright and early to pick apples.

After Nora, the children and Adie had been loaded up, Tom said to Maxie, “Once the festival weekends are behind us, would you be willing to babysit one evening? I think I’d like to take Nora over to Arcata for dinner.”

She lifted her brows. “Really? Why?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Because her gratitude for every little thing, even the things she has to work hardest for, is so damn charming.”

“But what about Miss Picky Pants?”

“Maxie,” he warned.

“I slip sometimes,” she said with a shrug.

“Right… .”

“I think those little girls are divine,” she said. “I’d be happy to babysit while you take their mother out. I bet she hasn’t had a date in forever.”

“We’re just friends,” he pointed out.

“I bet she hasn’t had dinner out with a friend in forever. I’m going to run over to the coast and hit Costco for some movies—like Disney DVDs or something.” Then she smiled very approvingly.

* * *

Jack drove out to the Riordans’ house and parked right in front. As luck would have it, Cooper was sitting on the porch in the late-afternoon sun. When he saw Jack he folded the USA TODAY on his lap. Jack got out of his truck and approached warily, putting one booted foot on the step just as Luke came to the doorway and stood there. Watching. Listening.

“Jack,” Luke said in greeting.

“Hey.” But then he directed his attention to Cooper. “This is a real small town.”

“I’ve been giving you plenty of space,” Coop said.

“What I came to say is—you have as much right to enjoy this town as I do. I don’t know what your plans are, but just because we don’t see eye to eye doesn’t mean…” He paused and looked down briefly. “Look, besides you, Luke, Colin and me, only a couple of people know about our situation—my wife and my cook and his wife. And not having been there at the time, they aren’t convinced you’re guilty of anything, so there’s no reason for you to be scarce. Know what I mean?”

“I’m not going to be around much longer,” Coop said. “I’m hanging out long enough for our buddy, Ben, to show up for a little hunting. Then I guess we scatter again. And when we scatter, it takes us a while to meet up. Next time, maybe we meet somewhere else.”

“Well, hunting is good here,” Jack said. “Next couple of weekends the Cavanaughs have their orchard open to the public—pick your own apples, get some of their cider, hang out with friends. But this town—folks tend to gather at things like that, so even if you’re not that interested in apples, it’s a good way to socialize. Then there’s the pumpkin patch party out at Jilly’s farm the next weekend. Some people dress up. You could just go as, you know, a grump. That would work.”