Chapter 17
Jack set the crate down on the counter with a deliberate thud, the box landing harder than he’d intended.
He nodded curtly, hating the immediate jolt of awareness that shot through him again at the sight of the newcomer – Molly – perched on Eva’s barstool, those green eyes stubbornly fixed on her plate.
The woman was trouble – and yet he couldn’t seem to stop noticing things about her: the slight flush on her cheeks, the determined set of her jaw, the way her dark hair caught the evening light streaming through the windows.
‘Your delivery,’ he said to Eva, his voice gruffer than intended. ‘Twenty pounds, picked this morning.’
Eva circled the counter, inspecting the apples with a professional eye.
She ran a gentle finger over the skin of one fruit, checking for bruising and smiled with satisfaction.
Jack shifted his weight, acutely conscious of Molly’s deliberate non-acknowledgment.
The woman was as stiff as new grafting tape, her attention fixed on a piece of gingerbread as if it contained the secrets of the universe.
He remained at the counter, standing uncomfortably as Eva disappeared into a small office out back, returning moments later with an envelope. ‘Here you go. Though I’ll need a bit more next week. The russets for a special I’m doing for the festival.’
Jack pocketed the payment. ‘Tuesday, OK? I’ve to check the east orchard irrigation system first thing, but I could pop over after.’
‘Perfect.’
The café hummed with energy – a couple sharing scones by the window, the soft clinking of teacups against saucers providing a gentle backdrop to their conversation.
The warmth from the ovens had fogged the windows slightly, creating a cozy bubble that seemed separate from the world outside.
Jack found himself reluctantly settling into the familiar comfort of the space, despite the prickling awareness of Molly’s presence.
‘Like I said,’ Eva continued, her innocent tone setting off warning bells in Jack’s mind, ‘I was just telling Molly about the festival and how your cider is always the first to sell out. People start lining up at your stall even before ye’ve finished setting up.’
Jack grunted noncommittally. He knew Eva too well to miss the mischief dancing behind her eyes. Whatever game she was playing, he wanted no part of it.
Her smile widened. ‘Even won gold at the nationals last year. Not that he bothered to attend the ceremony to receive it.’
He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Had plenty of trees that needed attention.’
‘Sure, you always do,’ Eva said with a fond eyeroll.
She turned to Molly, who was watching their exchange with cautious interest. ‘Jack’s talent is wasted on us locals who’ve known forever how great he is.
What he really needs is someone to bring that talent to a wider audience.
’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Did you know Molly works in marketing? No better woman to help boost your sales – or anything else,’ she added suggestively.
Heat rushed to Jack’s face, his collar suddenly feeling too tight. Beside him, Molly’s eyes widened, a similar flush spreading across her cheeks.
‘Eva,’ she protested, ‘I’m sure Jack doesn’t need—’
‘I’ve managed perfectly fine without—’ he spluttered simultaneously.
‘Of course, of course,’ Eva interrupted blithely waving away their objections with flour-dusted hands.
‘Just thinking out loud, really. Though it would be a shame not to take advantage of such professional expertise when it drops right into our little village. Especially with the big boys still sniffing around?’
The reminder of Crest Beverage’s continued interest in his land tightened Jack’s jaw. ‘I’m not interested in “boosting” anything, thanks. I’m interested in preserving what my ancestors built.’
‘And wouldn’t the best preservation be ensuring its success?’ Eva challenged, her tone gentler now. ‘All I’m saying is that Molly might have a few insights worth considering. Outside perspective and all that.’
Molly appeared as uncomfortable with this conversation as Jack felt. Her fingers traced the rim of her mug, and she seemed to be studying its contents with unusual intensity.
‘I really wouldn’t want to—’ she began.
‘You wouldn’t be interfering if that’s what you’re going to say,’ Eva interjected.
‘Jack’s just too proud to ask for help. Always has been.
’ She patted his arm with maternal affection.
‘Remember when you broke your ankle falling off that tree at sixteen? Crawled all the way back to Goldenridge rather than call for someone to give you a lift home.’
‘Eva,’ he growled, warning in his tone.
A group entered, momentarily distracting his friend from her efforts. With one last meaningful look at him, she moved to greet the newcomers, leaving Jack and Molly in awkward silence.
So she was a marketing executive, then. Not a corporate spy.
He trusted Eva’s judgment; no better woman to sniff out a fraud.
But the absence of her cheerful buffer only made him more acutely aware of Molly’s proximity.
She smelled faintly of something floral – different to the heavy perfume he associated with city women, subtler, fresher.
The distance between them suddenly seemed both too wide and not wide enough.
‘I’m … sorry about earlier,’ he muttered suddenly. ‘I genuinely thought you were one of Crest’s flying monkeys.’
When she raised a small smile, he relaxed somewhat. ‘No, I’m from New York, Wicked Witch of the East.’
Jack smiled, even though he didn’t quite get the joke.
‘My great-uncle mentioned some of your ideas actually,’ he said then, the words emerging more abruptly than he’d intended.
She looked up and he shifted his weight, discomfort warring with his inherent honesty.
‘They were … decent. The cards explaining each variety’s history, the cider tasting tours.
’ The admission cost him something, but fairness demanded it. ‘He was quite taken with the concept.’
‘Oh,’ Molly said again, this time with a hint of pleased surprise. ‘I was just thinking out loud, really. I didn’t expect him to take me seriously.’
‘Patrick doesn’t miss much.’ Jack’s fingers traced a knot in the wooden countertop, avoiding her direct gaze.
‘He says your suggestions might help people understand why we do things the way we do. Why it matters so much.’ He looked up then, meeting her eyes directly for the first time since entering the café.
Up close, they were even greener than he’d remembered, flecked with gold in the evening light.
‘He was even talking about implementing some of them.’
Molly set down her mug, her expression shifting to professional interest. ‘That’s great. Simple, educational, authentic to who you are.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘I could help him with the wording of the cards, if you’d like.’
Jack studied her, trying to reconcile this seemingly earnest offer with his lingering suspicions. Could he have misjudged her? Or was this simply a more sophisticated approach to gaining his trust?
‘Why would you do that?’ he asked bluntly.
She shrugged, the gesture elegant despite its casualness.
‘I liked your great-uncle, it’s what I do.
And …’ she hesitated, something vulnerable flickering across her features, ‘I actually admire what you’re trying to preserve at Goldenridge.
Traditional methods, heritage varieties – those things do matter. ’
The sincerity in her voice caught him off guard completely, chipping away at the defensive wall he’d built. Jack found himself nodding slowly. ‘They do.’
Another silence fell, but this one felt different – less charged with tension, more contemplative. In the background, Eva laughed at something one of her customers said, the sound bright and infectious in the warm café air.
‘Again, I apologize,’ Jack reiterated, the words coming easier now. ‘For my behavior at the shop earlier. And by the lake the other day too.’ He met her gaze directly, owning his mistake. ‘I was … out of order.’
Molly’s eyebrows rose, genuine surprise evident in her expression.
‘Patrick pointed out that I might have jumped to conclusions,’ Jack admitted. ‘He usually knows what he’s talking about.’
A small smile curved her lips, transforming her face from merely pretty to something that made Jack’s breath catch. ‘Apology accepted. And I understand better now why you were suspicious. Eva told me about Crest Beverages.’
He felt something tight in his chest ease slightly. ‘They’ve been relentless,’ he conceded. ‘Three approaches this year alone, each more aggressive than the last.’
‘Must be exhausting,’ she said, and she sounded like she meant it.
‘It is.’ The admission slipped out before he could stop it. He rarely acknowledged the toll the constant pressure took on him, not even to Patrick. Yet somehow, sitting in Eva’s warm café with golden light pooling around them, it felt possible to speak the truth.
‘For what it’s worth,’ Molly said, breaking off another piece of gingerbread, ‘I really am just a tourist. No hidden corporate agenda.’ Jack found himself believing her, though caution still remained at the edges of his thoughts.
He couldn’t help it. ‘My grandmother used to talk about the ancient trees of Ireland. Said they were like living history books, if you knew how to read them.’ She smiled faintly.
‘Maybe I was hoping to see a few pages of that history for myself.’
The answer wasn’t fully satisfying, but Jack sensed pushing further would only rebuild the walls that had just begun to come down between them. Instead, he nodded, accepting her explanation for what it was.
‘The big oak is special all right,’ he admitted. ‘Been standing since before any Flynn planted the first apple tree. Some mornings, in the right light …’ He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious about sharing something so personal.
‘What?’ Molly prompted, her voice soft with genuine curiosity.
Jack hesitated, then continued. ‘Some mornings it looks almost like it’s breathing. Sounds fanciful, I know.’
‘Not at all,’ she replied, her eyes shining with understanding. ‘The best things often look that way in the right light.’
Their gazes held for a moment too long to be casual, something unspoken passing between them. Jack felt a peculiar lightening in his chest, as if a burden he’d carried for miles had suddenly shifted to a more comfortable position.
Eva returned then, her eyes darting between them with undisguised interest and he straightened, the moment evaporating. ‘I should get going.’
Yet Jack found himself oddly reluctant to leave the warmth of The Cherry Blossom Café and the unexpected connection that had begun to form across Eva’s counter.