“So are you,” he accused. “I’m not really doing this because I want to be serious. I’m doing this because you taste like apples and honey and I like apples and honey.”

“And you taste like roughly ten tons of testosterone. I am not sleeping with you.”

“We could probably manage it, though. Without getting too involved.”

“No,” she said.

“But why? I mean, if we’re trusted friends? And it doesn’t interfere with our responsibilities?”

“Did that line ever actually work for you?”

“I can’t remember. But it probably did—it’s brilliant.”

“No. Never gonna happen.”

“Really?”

“Tom, how many children do you think I have to have before I figure out you get them by h**ing s*x?”

“Of course there would be protection,” he offered. “Tons of it.”

“No.”

“Jeez. Well, then, could you stop looking so good?”

“You’re pathetic,” she said with a laugh. “I’m dressed for apple picking and have no makeup on and no matter what you say, I’m sure I don’t smell or taste that good.”

His lips instantly sought her neck; he kissed and licked. He groaned. Then he went after her lips again, kissing her stupid.

“No,” she said when their lips parted. “Now, as much fun as it is to make out with the boss, I have work to do.”

“Had enough of me, have you?” he asked.

“For now,” she said with a smile. “Your professional behavior is killing me.”

He sighed and let her go. He helped her back into the apple sack.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now go do something important.” And she gave him a little shove.

“All right, but I have a feeling I might be back.”

“Yeah. I know.”

* * *

Tom wasn’t a particularly good liar and he blamed Maxie. She had always told him that lying created bad karma and that often you were stuck with the lie. She said it was God showing his sense of humor. When he was a kid in school and hadn’t done his homework, she’d warn him, “Don’t say you couldn’t do it because your grandmother died unless you want your grandmother to die—lies have a funny way of working into truth.”

However, he felt some lies, minor lies to be sure, had to be safe. So when Darla called and said, “How was hunting over the weekend?” he said, “Didn’t get anything.”

“Well, I missed you so much, I can’t wait for this weekend. And I’ve been thinking, if you can break away from the orchard for a little hunting, you can break away to visit me in Davis.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m hunting again.”

“Tom! Again?”

“It’s a tradition around here and very important to community relations.” He was glad she couldn’t actually see him wince under the weight of the bullshit.

“I’m not going to be in Davis that much longer,” she said in a pout. “And I miss you. I miss the whole orchard.”

“Well, if you want to spend the weekend alone with Maxie, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to entertain you.” And, just as he thought, Maxie was eavesdropping. The speed with which that old woman made it to the kitchen where he was talking on the phone was rather phenomenal and gave lie to her impending death. Her eyes were as big as apples and she bared her teeth at him. “In fact, she might be having her girlfriends for the weekend again,” he said to further discourage Darla.

Maxie rolled her eyes and went back to her television program.

“Well, when exactly will you be gone?” Darla asked.

There were times it was not easy being a man, and he was proving himself to be a typical one. He could hoist up an M-16 and go after insurgents fearlessly, but he could not tell an interested woman that it was a no-go. No interest. In fact, some measure of dislike. More than some—Darla was not for him. He would far rather she finish her time in Davis, return to Denver and forget about him. “Well, I’ll be leaving very early Saturday morning, we’ll camp overnight and I’ll be back around noon on Sunday,” he said. Just coincidentally, about the time Darla would be leaving Virgin River if she came to visit.

“Well, that not only eliminates the possibility of you coming to Davis for a nice weekend we could spend alone, but why would I bother to come to Virgin River for one evening?”

There was definite emphasis on alone and he actually gulped. “Sorry, Darla, but some things are just tradition and were set in stone long before I even knew you had a class in Davis. How much longer is that class, by the way?”

“Just a couple of weeks, which is terrible because you and I have things to talk about! Like where we’re going with this relationship!”

Say it, he told himself. Say “nowhere.” But he said, “Aw, it’s a shame that class didn’t fall at a less demanding time of year… .”

“Well, to say I’m unbelievably disappointed would be an understatement.”

“I’m sorry, Darla, but it’s all beyond my control.”

There was just a bit more chat—he apologized, she sulked—and then he signed off. Then he looked into the living room and met with Maxie’s glare.

“Why can’t you be deaf like other old women?” Tom asked her.

“You’re going to hell, you know. What did I tell you about lying?”

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? I could be forced to go hunting and not shoot anything?”

“I don’t even want to discuss it, except to say that you better not ever again volunteer me to entertain Darla for a weekend. Are you mad? Who would carry her bags?”

He laughed in spite of himself.

* * *

Nora was not experienced in love, not by a long shot. In fact, her limited experience was pretty much all bad. But she had developed better instincts since then and her intuition told her that she scared Tom Cavanaugh to death. He had prattled about responsibilities and friendly attraction and not getting serious all week—and yet couldn’t keep his hands off her. She found him lurking around the orchard all day long, waiting for his chance to pounce. And oh, my, could he pounce.

She pushed him away and laughed at him, but inside everything in her twittered and twinkled. He might not know what he was feeling, but she did. She was falling in love with him. Now, given the fact that her only experience with love was disastrous, she was not opposed to the idea of giving this a very long time to develop, even knowing that it might not work out the way she fantasized in the end.

What she hoped in her heart was that there might come a day that Tom found her and her children worth the effort. When he took her in his arms, she went to another planet. Everything inside her quivered and lusted and became warm. She melted inside for want of him. When he held one of her children, she became almost misty with sentiment—nothing in his behavior toward her or them seemed reluctant.

For four straight days at the orchard, he had found special moments away from other eyes and whether he realized it or not, he was romancing her. For the first time in so long, she had hope about many things—about getting on her feet, taking care of her children, living in a safe place, finding a sense of family and…and possibly the love of a good man.

And then on Thursday after work, she came home to find a notice posted on her front door. In one week her house, owned by a financial institution, would be auctioned. She was expected to move out as soon as possible. She tore down the notice.

The girls were still with Adie; Adie would’ve seen the notice on the door. Everyone in the neighborhood probably had seen it. With fear in her heart she went inside and flicked on a light. Then she lit a burner on the stove. By some miracle, they utilities were still connected.

She went to get her girls and Adie met her with a look of alarm in her eyes. “Nora, what does it mean?”

“It was to be expected, Adie,” she said bravely. “It’s not my house.”

“But what will you do?”

“I’m going to take the girls home, get them dinner and baths. And I’m going to think. The right answer will come to me.”

* * *

Maxie was working up an outstanding roasted chicken in the house and Tom was working late in his office, going over some of his online accounts receivable on his laptop. He deftly ignored emails from dpritchard—he didn’t have the time, nor the energy. He had some catching up to do—chasing a pretty woman around an orchard took time and cut into his workday.

He wanted this chase to go on forever; he was confident that sooner than later he would be able to convince her they could invest just a bit more in each other. He wanted her; no question she wanted him. He could negotiate and, what the hell, become her steady boyfriend. The thought actually made him smile just as he continued to believe he wasn’t making a real commitment.

He heard a car and for a moment he thought she was back for dinner. It was entirely possible. Maxie could have seen her in the orchard earlier or even called her. Nora and the girls hadn’t been to dinner all week.

He jumped up and opened the office door—a red Caddy had pulled right up to the back porch. He spun right back into the office and leaned against the wall—no!

He could not imagine what the devil she was doing here or how he was going to make her go away.

The door to his office pushed open and there, smiling like she’d just caged a cat, was Darla. “I thought I saw you in here.”

“Darla,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I left Davis this afternoon, early, and I’m taking tomorrow off—so I could spend a little time with you. I suppose I’ll leave Saturday to go back, since you’ll be busy. But really, Tom, I should think you could make a little time for me.”

He scraped his cap off as he ran his hand over his head. “Darla, you shouldn’t have come unannounced—I might not have been here.”

She stiffened as if insulted. “First of all, I emailed you a couple of days ago. Right after we talked—which by the way was a little tense. Second, you told me I should feel welcome to come to the orchard any time I felt like it! Every weekend, if I wanted to. I don’t know… .” Her eyes filled with tears and she looked at him imploringly. “What’s happened? You told me you were very interested in me and then— Suddenly I feel like I have a contagious rash or something!”

“Darla, Darla…”

“No,” she said, backing up slightly. “I don’t know what changed, but the first couple of weekends I was here, you were so attentive, so affectionate. I couldn’t have imagined how passionate you were when you kissed me and frankly, I was just counting the minutes until we could spend a night under the same roof together without your grandmother in the next room…”

“I tried to explain about the harvest,” he said.

“And the hunting,” she added. “Did you try to explain about that, too? Or did you just drop it on me that you’d be unavailable? Tom,” she said, releasing a tear. “For the first time in a year I was hopeful. Happy!”

“Stop now,” he said gently, pulling her into a hug, her head against his chest. “I apologize, but there are many things we should talk about. And I’m not sure where to begin or how.” He pushed her away slightly. “And dinner is almost on the table. I need a shower and you could probably stand a glass of wine.”

She sniffed at wiped at her eyes. “Maybe I should just leave… .”

“I’m not going to let you drive all the way back to Davis, upset and crying.”

As she looked up at him, he was quite sure he’d never seen her eyes that round, that sad. But wait—of course he had. When he visited her on his way home, that visit to console her and tell her what a good man her husband had been.