"What did you say?"
"It's not a waste of time."
"Not that, the other part. Gary used to say that. If you keep everything inside, it will eat you alive."
No wonder the words had come so easily to him. "You're right. He said that to me, more than a few times."
"Because you keep it all in. That's what Gary said. You swallow your problems whole and have indigestion for a week."
"He said that about me?" For the first time, he wondered what else Gary had shared about him. He'd never really considered that he might have been a part of their conversations, their lives.
She nodded. "Was he right?"
"Partly. But I don't get indigestion; I get insomnia. I haven't had a good night's sleep in ten years. As soon as I lie down, my brain goes into overdrive. Everything I pushed to the back of my mind during the day comes rushing out, demanding attention."
"Gary could fall asleep in about three seconds. It didn't matter what time of day. If he wanted a nap, he'd lie down and take a nap, just like that. He never lost sleep over anything. He didn't worry. He didn't sweat the small stuff. Not like me. Anyway…" She picked up the cylinder that had slipped to the ground. "We got off track. Here are the plans. You should take a look at them."
She didn't sound too excited to focus on the house, and in truth he wasn't ready yet either. "I have a better idea."
"What?"
"Show me around the farm. I don't think I've ever had the full tour."
She gave him a doubtful look. "I didn't think you ever wanted one."
"Well, I do now."
She hesitated. "All right. But I can pretty much guarantee you'll learn far more than you ever wanted to know about apples."
"I think I can handle it."
She smiled. "You say that now, but we'll see how you feel after one hundred and fifteen acres of apples."
"That many, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. Then there's the barn, the packing shed, the kitchen, the gift shop, the picnic area. Oh, and the pumpkin patch, which will be in full swing by next week."
"No pony rides?" he asked with a grin, pleased that his distraction had worked. Just thinking about her farm had brought pleasure to Rachel's eyes. And he was willing to look at every single tree on the property if that would keep the joy on her face for a while longer.
"Not yet. But I won't say never . The apple business isn't what it used to be. We've had to supplement our income any way we can."
He was surprised at the complexity of their operation. For some reason, he'd thought it was just trees and apples. Gary hadn't talked much about the farm. Or had he just tuned out everything that concerned Gary's life with Rachel?
"Still game?" she asked.
"Absolutely."
"You can follow me this time." She turned toward her minivan. "That fancy car of yours isn't going to stay too clean with all the dirt around here. Gary was forever washing and waxing his car."
"Gary loved that car."
"Yes, he did." She shook her head. "There it is again, that little ping in my heart. I wonder when that will stop happening. Sometimes I'm afraid it won't ever stop. And then again, sometimes I'm afraid it will stop. That I'll forget something I shouldn't forget."
"You won't." He held her gaze for a long second, then let it go. There were other things he wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. It was probably better that way.
Chapter Seven
Rachel had been right. Dylan now knew more about apples than he'd ever wanted to know, including the six different varieties grown at AppleWood Farms. He'd seen pickers harvesting one section of the orchard, a group of workers in the packing shed sorting apples, still more employees working the pumpkin patch, the fruit stand by the road and the gift shop in the barn that sold everything from apples to apple butter, apple pie, apple napkins and apple jewelry.
Rachel had explained the various tourist operations and pointed out the U-Pick section of the orchard, where visitors could pick their own apples and picnic by a trickling stream. She'd also
"It's not a waste of time."
"Not that, the other part. Gary used to say that. If you keep everything inside, it will eat you alive."
No wonder the words had come so easily to him. "You're right. He said that to me, more than a few times."
"Because you keep it all in. That's what Gary said. You swallow your problems whole and have indigestion for a week."
"He said that about me?" For the first time, he wondered what else Gary had shared about him. He'd never really considered that he might have been a part of their conversations, their lives.
She nodded. "Was he right?"
"Partly. But I don't get indigestion; I get insomnia. I haven't had a good night's sleep in ten years. As soon as I lie down, my brain goes into overdrive. Everything I pushed to the back of my mind during the day comes rushing out, demanding attention."
"Gary could fall asleep in about three seconds. It didn't matter what time of day. If he wanted a nap, he'd lie down and take a nap, just like that. He never lost sleep over anything. He didn't worry. He didn't sweat the small stuff. Not like me. Anyway…" She picked up the cylinder that had slipped to the ground. "We got off track. Here are the plans. You should take a look at them."
She didn't sound too excited to focus on the house, and in truth he wasn't ready yet either. "I have a better idea."
"What?"
"Show me around the farm. I don't think I've ever had the full tour."
She gave him a doubtful look. "I didn't think you ever wanted one."
"Well, I do now."
She hesitated. "All right. But I can pretty much guarantee you'll learn far more than you ever wanted to know about apples."
"I think I can handle it."
She smiled. "You say that now, but we'll see how you feel after one hundred and fifteen acres of apples."
"That many, huh?"
"Oh, yeah. Then there's the barn, the packing shed, the kitchen, the gift shop, the picnic area. Oh, and the pumpkin patch, which will be in full swing by next week."
"No pony rides?" he asked with a grin, pleased that his distraction had worked. Just thinking about her farm had brought pleasure to Rachel's eyes. And he was willing to look at every single tree on the property if that would keep the joy on her face for a while longer.
"Not yet. But I won't say never . The apple business isn't what it used to be. We've had to supplement our income any way we can."
He was surprised at the complexity of their operation. For some reason, he'd thought it was just trees and apples. Gary hadn't talked much about the farm. Or had he just tuned out everything that concerned Gary's life with Rachel?
"Still game?" she asked.
"Absolutely."
"You can follow me this time." She turned toward her minivan. "That fancy car of yours isn't going to stay too clean with all the dirt around here. Gary was forever washing and waxing his car."
"Gary loved that car."
"Yes, he did." She shook her head. "There it is again, that little ping in my heart. I wonder when that will stop happening. Sometimes I'm afraid it won't ever stop. And then again, sometimes I'm afraid it will stop. That I'll forget something I shouldn't forget."
"You won't." He held her gaze for a long second, then let it go. There were other things he wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come. It was probably better that way.
Chapter Seven
Rachel had been right. Dylan now knew more about apples than he'd ever wanted to know, including the six different varieties grown at AppleWood Farms. He'd seen pickers harvesting one section of the orchard, a group of workers in the packing shed sorting apples, still more employees working the pumpkin patch, the fruit stand by the road and the gift shop in the barn that sold everything from apples to apple butter, apple pie, apple napkins and apple jewelry.
Rachel had explained the various tourist operations and pointed out the U-Pick section of the orchard, where visitors could pick their own apples and picnic by a trickling stream. She'd also
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