Chapter 32
Jack’s stomach twisted into a knot of rage and humiliation as he stood at the edge of the clearing, watching her face drain of color.
After yesterday’s promising meeting at the bank, and last night’s ‘moment’ while dancing, he’d been only too happy to show Molly the oak she’d seemed so bloody curious about and share some of its history.
Only to find her here already, speaking furtively about lake views and vantage points like some scout preparing for an invasion.
‘I knew it,’ he repeated, his voice hardening with each word. ‘I should have known better than to trust you.’
She took a step toward him, one hand extended as if to bridge the chasm. ‘Jack—’
‘Don’t.’ The word came out sharper than he’d intended, slicing through the morning air.
Behind her, the oak’s leaves rustled in a gentle breeze, the sound nearly drowned by the rushing of blood in his ears.
‘I heard you. Did they send you to actually get the lay of the land? Or just figure out the best way to carve up the place?’
Confusion flickered across her face, quickly replaced by something else. ‘No! That’s not—’
‘So you didn’t lie when you said you weren’t working with Crest Beverages, but instead you’re one of those developer leeches, aren’t you?
’ Jack advanced into the clearing, each step deliberate, controlled despite the rage burning in his chest. ‘Wheedled your way into our business and finances, knowing all our weak spots before you made your move.’
The sun caught in her dark hair as she shook her head vehemently. ‘No! Jack, I swear I’m not working for any developer. That’s not at all why I’m here.’
‘Then explain what I just heard.’ He gestured toward the phone still clutched in her hand. ‘Explain why you’ve been so interested in our business, in our operations, in this oak specifically. Pretending to be interested in … everything.’
Her face had gone completely white now, freckles standing out starkly against her pallor. Her eyes darted briefly toward the carved initials on the trunk before returning to his face, something almost like panic in their green depths.
‘I promise you, I’m not here to hurt Goldenridge or to spy for any developers. This is … personal.’
Jack laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. The gesture felt foreign, disconnected from his body. ‘You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you? But somehow never the whole truth.’
Around them, the orchard was vibrant – birds calling from the apple trees, autumn light strengthening as it poured across the hills. The beauty of it all felt like a mockery now, too perfect a backdrop for this ugly scene.
‘I was speaking to my brother,’ Molly blurted suddenly. ‘Cole. He’s not a developer; he’s a hockey player, plays professionally.’
Jack stared at her, momentarily thrown by this random detail.
‘Believe me, I’m not who you think I am.’ Her voice cracked slightly, eyes pleading with him to understand. ‘My interest in the oak is purely personal. It has nothing to do with hurting the orchard or buying the land.’
‘Then why all the bloody secrecy?’ Jack demanded, taking another step toward her. ‘Why lie about why you’re really here?’
‘I didn’t lie,’ she insisted, though her gaze slid away from his. ‘I just … didn’t tell you everything.’
‘A lie of omission is still a lie.’ The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
He thought of that afternoon in the cider barn, the rain drumming overhead as they’d shared drinks and confidences.
How she’d touched his arm with such apparent sincerity, promised to help with the bank.
How he’d begun to trust her, to see beyond the polished New York exterior to something that felt genuine.
Her upturned face beneath the lights in the square last night, their bodies close. And that almost-kiss.
What an idiot he’d been.
‘And the social media stuff, your big marketing plan.’ Jack almost winced at how wounded his voice sounded.
‘Was that all part of it too? Reel us eejit locals in enough to learn all our vulnerabilities? Eva doesn’t deserve that, none of us do.
’ He stepped back, needing physical distance from her, from the earnest expression that had once seemed so authentic.
Was enough to lower his defenses. Now he understood it was just another tool in her professional arsenal, another way to manipulate situations to her advantage.
‘No, of course not! Eva’s my friend, she’s …’
‘Save it,’ he spat, fury rising up within him as he realized just how stupid he’d been. ‘I trusted you,’ he said quietly, the admission hanging in the air between them. ‘Despite every instinct screaming at me not to, I let you in.’
‘Jack—’ Her voice broke on his name, and for a moment, the raw emotion in it nearly shook his resolve.
‘I showed you everything,’ he continued, unable to stop now that the words had started flowing.
‘Told you about our financial struggles. Hell, I even danced with you at the festival last night in front of the whole town. When all the while you were faking an interest in me, me and Patrick, trying to get us on side.’
She flinched at that, as if he’d struck her. ‘That wasn’t fake,’ she whispered. ‘None of it was. Last night definitely wasn’t—’
‘Forget it.’ He cut her off, unwilling to hear whatever justification she’d crafted. ‘Whatever game you’re playing, I’m finished being a pawn in it.’
His boots crushed the dewy grass as he strode away, heading back toward the main orchard path. The sunlit glow that had seemed so optimistic minutes ago now felt harsh, exposing, as if it illuminated every foolish choice he’d made since that woman had arrived in Golden Valley.
The worst part was the hollow ache in his chest, the space where something had begun to grow over the past week – something he hadn’t allowed himself to name but had felt nonetheless. That tentative connection now withered, poisoned by distrust.
As always, he’d been right not to trust outsiders and his initial suspicion of her had been justified after all. He should feel vindicated, not devastated.
Despite his resolve not to look back, Jack found himself turning slightly at the edge of the clearing, just enough to see her in his peripheral vision.
Molly stood exactly where he’d left her, one hand pressed against the oak’s massive trunk as if needing its support.
Her face was lifted toward him, the light catching the unmistakable gleam of tears on her cheeks.
For a moment – just a heartbeat – doubt flickered through him.
The pain in her expression looked genuine, too raw to be feigned.
Then Jack remembered how skillfully she navigated professional situations, how effortlessly she’d integrated herself into village life, winning over the locals. Of course she’d be good at this too – at appearing wounded when confronted.
That was their playbook, these types.
He squared his shoulders and continued walking, each step carrying him farther from the oak and the woman who’d breached defenses he hadn’t realized were so vulnerable. His jaw ached from clenching it, tension radiating through his neck and shoulders like steel cables pulled too tight.
Jack returned to the orchard, seeking solace from the surrounding trees. Goldenridge had survived for generations; he would survive this too.