“He said he had to drop out of school for a year.”
“He figured it was more important to keep things running here than finish tenth grade. It was right in the middle of planting season. The whole town pretty much pitched in to help us. Church ladies brought us food and clothes.”
I think back to my mom, struggling with a waitressing job, doing her best to take care of me alone in Nashville. “Not everybody has that kind of support.”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“Your brother really cares about you. He talks about you all the time.”
“Then why’s he leaving?” He cuts his eyes at me, and I see hurt simmering there.
We’re back at the house, and I choose my words carefully. “You said he’s been working his ass off since he was your age. Maybe he wants to do something for himself now. While he still can.”
“Yeah, well, we need him here. Not in some foreign country where who knows what might happen to him.”
“Hey.” I catch Leon’s arm. “I won’t let anything happen to your brother. I promise.”
The anger in his brow eases slightly. He shakes his head and starts up the steps, letting the screen door slam behind him. I hear Noel’s voice inside and walk toward the shed. I need a shower, but I don’t know what else my friend has lined up for us this afternoon. I feel like the walking dead after working all day on five hours of sleep.
A warm breeze blows nonstop through the empty peach shed, and I take a seat on the flatbed, thinking about the promise I just made to Leon. I don’t know what’s ahead of us when we leave for active duty, but I plan to do whatever it takes to keep that promise. It’s what we all agreed when we parted ways. Family.
4
Noel
Half the peaches Leon picked are washed, diced, and in the freezer. The remaining five go in the food processor with honey, lemon zest, and cream for fresh sorbet after dinner.
I pour the mixture into the ice cream maker and gaze up the hill at the large shed where I spent the morning teaching twenty kids the art of sorting peaches. Tomorrow, Mr. Hidalgo’s crew will descend on the orchard and clean the trees fast, emptying their haul onto the belts where the teens will sort the bruised or cut ones into baskets for jams, preserves, peach syrup, or peach ice cream.
The unblemished fruits will be stacked into crates, which the bigger boys lift and haul to the waiting flatbed trucks.
Taron will have to eat his words—Brenda Stein, one of the bigger girls, wanted to help the boys haul crates to the trucks, and I said she could. She promised not to overdo it.
My mind filters through the conversations we had today. He’s so easy to talk to, so playful and relaxed. I snort remembering our pun war. He should’ve known I’ve heard them all.
Wiping my hands on a towel, I walk out the door and up the hill toward the shed. As I approach, I see Taron is lying on his back on one of the flatbed trailers with his ball cap over his face. He’s still wearing those converse sneakers, and I just hope he knows they’ll be ruined if he wears them to work in the fields.
Without really thinking about it, I go to where he’s perched and playfully shove his crossed feet. “Better get some boots, City Slicker—oh! Oh no!”
Taron’s feet flop to the side, but they don’t stop there. His legs go off the back of the truck, and the rest of him follows, hitting the ground with a thud.
“Fuck!” His low voice is loud.
“Taron!” I run around the end of the trailer to where he’s lying on his side, shaking his head.
“What the hell?”
I drop to my knees, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry!”
“Did you just shove me off the flatbed?” Anger flashes in his wolf eyes, and I feel like shit.
“I didn’t! I—”
“I think you did.” He pushes up to a sitting position, shaking his head.
His face is all covered in dirt, and I want to die. “Here.” I hold out the towel still in my hands. “Let me wipe your face. Are you okay?”
He holds my arm and stands slowly, stretching to one side and wincing. “Shit… Feels like I cracked a rib.”
I clutch a hand to my mouth. “Taron. I’m so sorry.”
He cuts his eyes at me, and I think I might cry. As he studies me, the anger seems to melt. Something different takes its place, something devious.
“Now I owe you one.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t…”
“Oh, yes I do.” He lifts his shoulder and circles his arm, wincing again as he does it.
My heart beats faster. I’m a little nervous about what payback could be. “It was an accident…”
“You didn’t accidentally shove my feet off the flatbed.”
Stepping forward, I catch his arms. “I really didn’t know you’d fall—”
Our faces are close again, and I feel his breath against my cheek. My eyes drift up and his are cast down, meeting my gaze and sending heat flooding my panties.
It’s just like in the kitchen when he caught me. The air around us seems to crackle. His hands span my waist, and his arms are like bands of iron beneath my grip. I feel like peach sorbet melting in the sun under his gaze. My lips grow hot and heavy, and Oh, lord, I want him to kiss me so bad…
“Hey, what’s happening over here?” I recognize the tenor voice at once and step back, away from the inferno that is Taron Rhodes holding me in his arms.
“Digger?” I shake myself, pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Are you looking for Sawyer?”
I walk around the flatbed, and I feel Taron watching me as I go. I’ve felt him watching me all day, and it tingles in my lower belly.
“Hey, Noel.” Digger Hayes steps forward to give me a brief hug. He always wants to kiss my cheek, but I dodge just in time.
Taron’s deep voice interrupts his greeting. “Sawyer had to drive into town to pick up some crates.”
Digger’s eyes narrow as he inspects Taron. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“We haven’t.” Taron steps forward, extending a hand. “Taron Rhodes. I’m here for the harvest.”
“Ah.” Digger’s eyebrows rise, and I see him visibly relax. “You must be Sawyer’s military friend.”
“Marine. I’m his Marine friend.”
“Oh, right.” Digger does a little laugh that makes me cringe. He is such a condescending dick. “And how are you liking our little town so far? I imagine it’s a far cry from Nashville.”
“I’ve only been here a day, but I like what I see.” His ocean eyes meet mine, and it’s like a bolt of lightning straight through my core.
“We’re pretty happy with it.” Digger puts his arm around my shoulders, and my head snaps around to face him. Has he lost his mind?
I step out of his unwelcome embrace. “I’ll put on some coffee if y’all want some?”
Taron’s eyes narrow. “I’m good. Thanks, Noel.”
“Sounds great.” Digger smiles, moving to follow me. “I’ll walk you to the house.”
What is his deal? “No need. I’ll bring it out. Sawyer should be back any minute.”