Chapter 19
Laurie headed toward the apple booth. Years ago, Tara started selling her cider and caramel apples at the Fall Festival. Her booth had large swags of autumn decor and a line that wrapped around the small structure, down the aisle and around to the corn mazes. Over the top flew a banner with her Twelves Oaks Orchard logo. She wore an apple apron over the top of her Twelve Oaks Orchard T-shirt, handing out apples on a stick and jugs of her cider left and right. If Laurie wanted to talk to her, she’d have to get in line.
After waiting a half an hour, she finally got to the front.
Tara smiled her glowing grin. “What will you have?”
“You know I’m a sucker for your caramel apples.”
Tara pointed behind her to the refrigeration counter that had dozens of types of candy covering caramel apples.
“I love the turtle ones.”
Tara grabbed the one with pralines and chocolate, wrapping it in printed tissue paper. “It’s on the house, neighbor.”
Laurie pulled cash from her purse. “You know everyone here. You can’t give them away for free.”
“Business is going great!”
Laurie’s chest tightened. Her own business was in danger. “Well, you certainly aren’t wanting for customers tonight.”
“I hope I don’t run out of apples.” Tara tossed a glance over her shoulders to the apples then eyed the line in front of her booth. “If so, I’ll be sorry we didn’t make more.”
The line in front of the Sweet Milk Dairy creemee and donut truck was equally as long. But milk didn’t grow on trees. It came from cows that had to be milked. And cattle had to be cared for.
“So how are things with Carl?”
Again, Laurie’s heart plunged in her chest. “We didn’t end well.”
Tara stopped everything. “Janice, will you take over the point of sale? I’ve got to talk to my friend.”
Janice, who had been working the back, moved to the front.
Tara removed her apron and came around the other side of the booth. “We need to talk.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the crowds.
Grabbing her caramel apple, Laurie followed her to a quiet spot under a tree. A hay bale made a wonderful, but stiff, seat.
“So what happened?”
How could Laurie tell her everything that Carl said? Her heart ached at the whole discussion between her and Eric. She’d made so many poor decisions, the weight of them nearly broke her. Tears spilled over her cheeks while she watched the sun setting on the festival. Sitting on the prickly seat of the bale, smelling the sweet scent of hay and grass and autumn leaves, she finally unburdened herself.
“After Will died, I was crippled with grief. It was hard to see it while I was in the middle of it. But James came to me and asked me for money to leave Sugar Creek and invest in something of his own.” She didn’t dare tell Tara how much.
Tara held her hand and nodded.
“Now James is back, and he doesn’t have the money I lent him. And now—” a sob choked off her words—“we’re going to lose the dairy.”
“You don’t know that.” Tara handed her a scented hanky with an apple embroidered on it.
Laurie blew her nose. “Eric said the latest poll favored annexing the southern route to Sugar Creek. If that passes on Tuesday, we can’t afford to stay open any longer. The taxes will end us. We’re already behind. And we need a new pump. And…and it’s all my fault.”
“No, no.” Tara patted her shoulder. “It’s James’s fault for asking for the money in the first place. He took advantage of your weakened state. And you were just trying to do the best for your son.”
“But now Eric is mad at me for jeopardizing the dairy and all the people we employ. He’s worked so hard to keep it afloat despite all the odds against him. And now I’ll be a burden on my children. Instead of giving them something on my death, they’ll have to take care of me until I pass, and that kills me.” Sobs wracked her body for a few moments until she could get control of herself, wiping tears into the hanky.
Tara didn’t say anything. They both sat there, staring across the fairgrounds, watching the night sky turn darker and darker, breathing in the cool fresh air. Sometimes people didn’t need advice. They just needed a listening ear. And Tara was that for Laurie. A friend. A non-judgmental friend.
“I have a feeling that everything will work out.”
Tears still streamed from Laurie’s eyes. But hope surged through her. “But I don’t know that.”
“Things happen for a reason. Sometimes we don’t see it in the moment. You’ll be taken care of. Eric would never let you be a burden on anyone.”
“But what about Carl? He says now is not the time. Does he mean no?”
“Carl is wise. Your life is a little chaotic right now. Wait until your life slows down. Give him time. I know he likes you.”
“But I don’t know where to go from here.”
Tara patted her hand. “Don’t worry. Be patient. Have faith that everything will work out.” She pointed to the apple. “Now be sure and eat your caramel apple before the ants get it first.”
Laurie laughed, wiping tears away from her cheeks. “It looks so yummy.” She picked it up, smelling the caramel and sugar.
“They are. I started an online business selling directly to customers around the United States.”
“You’re a business genius. I wish I had some of your savvy.” Too bad Will was the one with all the business smarts.
“You can learn to be smart in business, too. Don’t leave the bulk of the work to your sons. This is a family business, and that includes you, too.”
All the time Will had been alive, she’d never had to step up and run the business. Yes, she ran payroll and invested time into the dairy, but the bulk of the burden was on Will and her kids. Could she really learn to run a successful business at her age? All her life, she’d been taking care of kids. But how different was it to run a household than to run a business? A surge of hope ran through her. Whatever happens with the election, she would send Eric back to school to follow his own dreams. He’d sacrificed enough. Laurie could do hard things. Biting into the apple, she was filled with resolve.
Charlotte dropped off Westley at his B&B and came home to a darkened, empty house. Coco and Preston were still at the Fall Festival. Without turning on the lights, she crossed the front salon. Stomping up the stairs, she nearly ran down the hall, threw her coat into the corner of her room, and flopped on her bed. She couldn’t hold back the tears. Why was choosing between Eric and Westley so hard? Why couldn’t she just pick one? But which one?
“What are you crying about?”
Startled, Charlotte raised her head off her bed.
No one was in the darkened bedroom.
“Who’s there?”
“Who do you think?”
A faint outline of Jules in his hat and suspenders materialized from her wardrobe.
“You’re not supposed to come creeping into my room anymore, remember?”
“I was scared to be in the house by myself when it’s dark.”
She sat up on her elbow and rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears away. “How can ghosts be scared?”
“I don’t know. But you terrified me when you slammed the door. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She stared at her hands.
“Are you sure?” He glanced pointedly at the box of tissues that she’d used to blow her nose.
“Fine.” She sat up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what to do.”
“About the boy in the pickup truck?”
“About him. And Westley.”
Jules inhaled as he sat in a chair in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth. “You can tell me. I’m a great listener.”
Charlotte remembered she hadn’t talked to him since she went to the library. “But first I have some news to tell you. I did some research. You were a rum runner.”
Jules stopped rocking. “How do you know?”
“I read a whole article in the public library about how you were killed while running rum. Someone murdered you for a stash of gold.”
He sat thoughtful for a moment. “That does sound familiar. But not entirely right. I can’t remember the details. It’s been too long.” He started rocking again, but this time he went slower. “Did they ever find the gold?”
“Your wife never did. At least, according to the article. She sold off property and had to work. The murderers must’ve made off with it, but I can’t be sure. The newspapers aren’t indexed. I couldn’t search online or read more about it.”
He nodded sagely, but she wondered if he knew what she was talking about. She hadn’t told him about the Internet or what online or indexed meant.
“So now what?” She folded her hands over her lap.
“I left my wife such a mess.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
She was about to say it wasn’t his fault, but it kinda was. “We need to figure out what you need to do.”
He raised his head. “We need to figure out your man problems. I hate seeing a woman cry.”
Charlotte stifled a laughed. “I just told you that you were murdered over a bunch of gold, and you’re worried about my love life?”
Stilling his chair, Jules raised an eyebrow. “Listen, money never made anyone happy. But love? Love is the only thing worth living for. Love is the only thing that can make you miserable or happy.” He rocked again. “Tell me about your two beaux. What happened tonight that triggered this outburst?”
“It’s stupid. And it’s a long story.”
Jules spread his arms. “Do I look like I have anywhere else I have to be?”
Charlotte inhaled. “Okay. As I said, Westley proposed. I had a week to decide if I want him. And now the week is up. I need to decide now. I dated him for almost a year, and we have the same goals.” She looked up to the crown molding at the corners of the ceiling, smiling slightly. “But Eric. Eric is hardworking, funny. He’s got the greatest laugh”—her smile fell—“but tonight he humiliated Westley by pulling a tractor half a football field.”
“And that’s bad?”
“Eric did it on purpose to make Westley look stupid or weak.”
“Are you sure? I bet Eric did it to impress you.” A knowing smirk marred his face.
His words shook her. She had never considered that he would put himself through so much physical exertion and pain for her. Sitting straighter, she set her jaw. “I’m not a prize to be won.”
“Of course not. But Eric wasn’t trying to win you. He was…how familiar are you with peacocks?” He squinted his eyes, rocking even slower.
“Peacocks?” That was not a road she expected this conversation to take. “I mean, I have seen peacocks in the grand palaces around the world.” Rambagh Palace in Jaipur, Pendley Manor in Hertfordshire, The Royal Palace in Madrid, even a place in Sacramento that had trained white peacocks.
Jules leaned forward. “Charles Darwin thought that the plumage on a peacock attracted peahens. A peacock will display his array of brightly colored covert tail feathers. He struts around the peahen, trying to attract her attention, showing off his strength and virility.”
“Okay.” Charlotte couldn’t understand this lesson on zoology.
“He was peacocking.”
“Is that a word?” She slitted her eyes.
“I might have made it up. But the point is, he wasn’t trying to win you. He was trying to impress you with his physical prowess.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Why do men do all sorts of idiotic things? They want to show who is best.”
“But Eric—” She was about to say he was too practical for something like that. Eric couldn’t possibly feel threatened by Westley, could he? She’d never talked to him about their kiss after the cowboy fondue. How did Eric feel about everything? Maybe she should ask him.
“What would you do?”
“If two men were fighting over me?” He flashed her a goofy grin.
“To put it crudely, yes.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’d pick the one who made me happiest.”
“Westley could help me fulfill my dreams of working internationally, making an impact. Eric would always choose Sugar Creek.”
“Who says you can’t make an impact in Sugar Creek? Who says you haven’t already? In the upcoming election?”
“How do you know about Proposition 11?”
“Because I’ve been over to Eric’s and spied on him.” He dipped his head in the direction of the dairy farm.
Her face burned. “What? I thought you couldn’t leave the Laurent property.”
He placed his hands on the rocking chair arms. “Ha! Shows you what little you know. I owned that dairy. My poor, disgraced family sold off that plot of land to cover my debts. I don’t know who makes the rules, but apparently land that used to be mine still counts.”
The prospect of making a difference no matter where she lived intrigued her. In order to make a difference in the world, she thought she would have to do some big, grandiose job in the poorest of countries. Why did she assume she had to live some over-the-top life to make a difference in people’s lives? And Westley wanted to take her there. He had all the right credentials—the drive, the ambition, the education. But for him, he always wanted to support her—not join her as equal partners in a single quest. Helping people was something she wanted to do. He acted more like a passive bystander. At least in ideals, he supported her. She wanted someone who didn’t just support her, but who also had the same goals, contributed to their success.
Eric had all of those qualities. His selfless decision to drop out of school to help with the dairy proved anything beyond words. He was a doer, not just a support system from afar. He got his hands dirty, so to speak—literally and figuratively.
But to give up a year of commitment with Westley pained her. He’d helped her study for the LSAT, buying takeout so she didn’t have to cook on those long nights where she only focused on her books. When she was tired, he rubbed her shoulders. Saying goodbye to nearly a year of memories, sacrifice, and time left an ache in her chest.
But seeing Eric again reminded her of all the reasons she had a crush on him all those years ago. Yes, he’d matured, but the core essence of Eric was still there—he was loyal, true, hardworking, down-to-earth, honest, respectful, helpful—all the -fuls. Seeing him again revived all her love and admiration. He wouldn’t just nod and pat her on the head and say, “Do what you want, sweetie.” He’d roll up his sleeves and dive right in with her to make it happen. Charlotte could do anything with Eric by her side. And that strength was worth more to her than anything else. But what could she do here, locally, that could be of service to her community? She searched her heart for her true desires.
“I could still help people in Sugar Creek. I could open an adoption agency here.”
“You sure could. I’m sure you can help anyone, no matter where you are.”
The claustrophobia of living in a small town, the mental blockage keeping her back, burst. She did want to stay in Sugar Creek after all. And stay with Eric. As long as they both survived the election results on Tuesday.
“What are you going to do about Eric and Westley? Are you ready to give them an answer?”
Even though she wasn’t sure what her life with Eric would be like, she wanted to go on whatever adventure he had because she loved him. Westley was a safe bet. He was heading in the same direction, but now she’d changed so much and so had her dreams. “I think so. Do you think Eric’s still up?”
“They do go to bed early around there, but I bet if you went by tonight, he’d talk to you.”
“I yelled at him at the festival.” Guilt bubbled up.
“What did you say he didn’t deserve? He’ll forgive you.”
“How do you know?”
“Relationships are made up of two good forgivers. As long as it’s not too grievous. No abuse or anything.”
“Do you think your wife forgave you for whatever you’ve done?”
He looked down at his knees. “Maybe she’s the one who made sure I stay on earth and make things right. Maybe she hasn’t forgiven me yet.”
“Then let’s repair whatever wrong you’ve committed so you can get back to your wife in the afterlife.”
Jules nodded his head. Then he smiled. “Let me know how it goes with dairy-boy.” He shot his gaze toward the farmhouse.
“And you think about what happened the night you were killed.”
“I can only remember bits and pieces. I’ll have to think more about what happened that night. I’ll get back to you.”
“Deal.”
Jules shimmered out of sight.
Inhaling, she stood and went to the window. A light still glowed in the upstairs window of the Victorian farmhouse that stood in the center of the field. At least someone was awake. Would Eric forgive her?
First things first.
She picked up her phone and dialed Westley. When he answered, she shook.
“Everything okay?” His voice was deep and steady on the other end. This phone call would wreck him.
“Yes, I just called to let you know my answer.”
“Which is?”
Charlotte inhaled, hugging the phone to her cheek. “I can’t continue dating you. And I know I can’t marry you. I’ve changed since I’ve come to Sugar Creek. I’m not the same person who left Toronto. Thank you so much for a wonderful year and for helping me get to this point in my life. But when you broke up with me, I severed my feelings for you. I moved on.” She wasn’t sure when it happened, but she let her heart finally heal. She couldn’t allow Westley to wound it again. “What I would give you now is only a portion of my heart because it belongs to Eric. I see that now. It’s best if you move on, too.”
She waited, holding her breath for his response.
“My trip here was in vain. And I’ll leave as soon as possible.”
That was it? He didn’t try to convince her otherwise? No persuasion tactics?
What a relief! Now she just had to talk to Eric and see if he still wanted her.