Chapter 2
Claire
“You must be the new one,” she said, straightening.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m Claire, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Elise,” she said. “First tip—gloves. Even if you think you don’t need them. You will.”
“I’ll remember that,” I said with a smile.
The guy with the shaved head stepped closer. “I’m Jonah. Pace yourself. Everyone starts too fast their first day.”
“I was planning on proving myself,” I admitted.
He laughed. “That’s what gets you wrecked by noon.”
The man with the thermos tipped it toward me. “Marc. Watch the ladder feet. Loose dirt will take you out quicker than the height.”
“Good to know,” I said, mentally cataloging everything.
Then someone leaned against the ladder beside me and smiled. She looked about my age, maybe a couple of years older. Sun-kissed skin. Dark hair pulled into a loose braid. She radiated a calm confidence that made the early hour look easy.
“I’m Soleil,” she said. “You showed up early. That’s either brave or a mistake.”
“Still deciding,” I grinned. She was sassy and I liked it.
She grinned too. “Rule number one: don’t try to impress Asher.”
I blinked. “I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good,” she said. “Because he’s handsome as hell, but completely off-limits.”
I snorted before I could stop myself. “Noted.”
“He doesn’t date employees,” Soleil continued. “Ever. Not even casual. Not even once. Saves everyone the trouble.”
“That seems… healthy,” I giggled.
“More like a boundary carved in stone,” she said. “Trust me.” I guessed she was talking from experience.
She studied me for a moment. “So what brings you to Val-du-Lys?”
I’d expected the question. Still, my stomach tightened.
“I liked the idea of a quiet job,” I said carefully. “Free housing. Good pay. It made sense.”
Soleil nodded, accepting it without digging deeper. “And when you’re not doing this?”
“I’m working on my master’s.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “In what?”
“Criminology.”
“That’s intense,” Elise said from nearby.
“Depends on the case,” I replied.
Footsteps crunched along the dirt path before anyone could ask more. Asher emerged from between the trees, clipboard tucked under one arm. The effect was immediate. Conversations quieted. Everyone straightened. Soleil pushed off the ladder and grabbed her gloves.
“Showtime,” she murmured.
“Morning,” Asher said.
A chorus of greetings followed. He scanned the group, eyes flicking briefly to me before moving on.
“East rows today,” he said. “Ladders stay planted. Crates here.” He pointed. “Twist, don’t pull. No phones. No rushing.”
He started assigning people in pairs. “Jonah, Marc. Row Four. Elise, Soleil, Row Five.” They peeled off one by one.
“Claire,” he said.
I stayed put.
Soleil shot me an encouraging look as she passed. “You’ve got this.”
Asher waited until everyone else had moved off before turning back to me. “Did you work an orchard before?” he asked.
“No.”
“Figured,” he said, not unkindly. “Come on.”
He led me to the nearest tree and demonstrated how to pick an apple, the motion smooth and practiced.
“Twist,” he said. “If it fights you, leave it.”
I nodded.
“Bruises get tossed,” he continued. He handed me a ladder. “Test it before you climb. Every time. You fall, you’re done for the season.”
“Yes—Asher.”
He gave me a look. “Just Asher.”
“Right.”
He hesitated, then said, “You work hard, keep your head down, and don’t go looking for trouble, we’ll be fine.”
I thought of everything I hadn’t said. “I can do that,” I replied.
“Good,” he said. “We’ll check in at noon.”
He walked away, already focused on something else.
I planted the ladder and climbed. My hands started to ache within minutes.
My shoulders burned. Sweat dampened my shirt as the sky lightened above the trees.
But I kept going. Because I hadn’t come to Val-du-Lys to be comfortable.
And because waiting hadn’t brought Sophie back.
The break call came just before noon. Tools were set down, ladders folded, and the group drifted toward the barn at the edge of the orchard.
From the outside, it still looked rustic, with weathered wood and wide doors, but inside, it was something else entirely.
The space was clean and bright. Someone had stripped the walls and refinished the beams, leaving the wood warm and smooth instead of splintered.
Long tables lined the center of the room were sanded and sealed.
A brand-new stainless steel fridge hummed quietly against one wall.
A modern couch sat beneath a window with dark fabric that was still stiff like it hadn’t been broken in yet.
It didn’t feel like a place people merely passed through.
It felt like a place someone had invested in.
I dropped onto the bench beside Soleil and Elise, my muscles protesting immediately.
Elise unwrapped a sandwich from foil. Soleil pulled out a container of fruit and a granola bar.
I had nothing. I hadn’t packed lunch. Not because I forgot but because I hadn’t thought I’d need it.
My appetite had vanished somewhere between the rows and the ache in my shoulders.
I sat there with my water bottle, hoping no one noticed.
Asher walked in a moment later. He didn’t announce himself. He didn’t have to. The room shifted as voices lowered, movement slowing just slightly. He scanned the space once, then his gaze landed on me. On my empty hands. His brow furrowed.
“Why aren’t you eating?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m not hungry.”
“That wasn’t the question,” he said matter of fact. He sure had a grumpy way of communicating.
I frowned. “I just. . .”
“Grab an apple,” he said, tipping his chin toward the crate near the door. “And there’s a sandwich in the fridge.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t. . .”
“I can’t afford to have employees fainting in the rows,” he cut in. “Eat.” There was no anger or a raised voice just an expectation that I listen.
Soleil smirked. “Told you. Stone walls.”
I sighed and stood. “Okay.”
I crossed the room and opened the fridge.
Everything inside looked organized, labeled and deliberate.
Wrapped in butcher paper on the middle shelf was exactly what he’d said a thick meat sandwich that made my stomach growl now that I was looking at it.
As I pulled it out, Soleil’s voice carried behind me.
“She’s probably not cut out for physical labor anyway,” she said lightly. “She’s smart. Like, really smart.”
I froze.
“Oh?” Asher said.
“She’s working on her master’s degree,” Soleil continued, clearly unaware she’d just detonated something. “Criminology, right?”
My grip tightened on the sandwich. I hadn’t wanted Asher to know that. Not yet at least.
When I turned back, his expression had shifted, not angry, not surprised. Just more alert.
“Criminology,” he repeated.
I met his gaze evenly. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?” he asked.
“When it mattered,” I said.
A beat passed.
“And now?” he said.
“Now I’m eating my lunch.” I shrugged.
Something flickered across his face. Curiosity, maybe. Or calculation.
“Why would a city girl with a degree choose orchard work?” he asked. “Why not an office job? Or an internship?”
I took a bite before answering. It was embarrassingly good.
“I like being outside,” I said. “And I needed the money. What are you, a cop?”
“The son of a cop,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “That’s not the whole truth.”
“It’s enough of it,” I said, but his jaw tightened. For a moment, it looked like he might press further. Then he stepped back.
“Finish eating,” he said. “We head out in ten.”
I nodded. “Thanks. For the sandwich.”
He didn’t respond. Just watched me a moment longer before turning away.
The afternoon dragged in the best and worst ways, with the warmth of sun, repetition, and the steady burn in my arms. I worked harder than I needed to, stubbornness pushing me forward.
By two, the rows were quiet again. As people packed up, Elise leaned against a crate beside me.
“So,” I said, “what do you do around here for fun?”
She hesitated. “Depends on what you’re into.”
I thought about it, then said, “Back-room card games. Or maybe a local bar.”
She blinked. “You don’t seem like that type.”
“It’s for my thesis,” I added quickly.
She gave me a look that said she didn’t buy it. “Whatever.”
She made some recommendations about bars and told me to watch my back.
I thanked her and went back to my cabin.
I showered and changed. Instead of my usual clothes, I pulled on ripped jeans and a faded Metallica sweatshirt I’d picked up at a thrift store months ago.
It wasn’t my style. But it was close enough to who I needed to be.
I walked into town needing the fresh air and quiet time to think.
The Frosted Mug was dim and loud with the scent of beer clinging to the air.
I ordered a drink and took a seat at the bar.
It didn’t take long before someone leaned in, voice low, asking what brought me to town.
I mentioned cards and someone else laughed.
The front door opened and Asher walked in.
My stomach sank. This was the last place I needed a run-in with my boss to happen.
As it was, he seemed a little suspicious of me this afternoon.
His eyes locked onto me immediately. He crossed the room with purpose, stopping short in front of me, anger sharp and unmistakable.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
My eyes narrowed at him. Did he follow all his employees around like this?
“What’s your deal, Claire? You either tell me now, or you can consider yourself fired,” he said.
My jaw dropped as the hunky asshole stood there waiting for an answer.