Page 51 of Reclaimed Roots

It was everything I'd been missing, everything I'd beenstarvingfor.

But now, in the harsh light of day, doubt was creeping in. What if it had been just a moment of weakness, a temporary lapse in judgment brought on by grief and nostalgia? What if he woke up that morning and regretted it?

I closed my eyes and attempted to banish the insidious whispers. No, what had happened between us was real. The connection, that depth of feeling, you couldn't fake that.

We had something. Something worth taking a chance on. I just had to trust in us.

I dragged my focus back to the task at hand. These books weren't going to balance themselves, and I owed it to Dad—and to the Evertons—to get to the bottom of this.

As I dug deeper into the numbers, a horrible realization dawned on me. The discrepancies lined up perfectly with Dad's diagnosis. A picture slowly emerged. Small mistakes at first, easily overlooked. A transposed number here, a missed decimal there. But as the months went on and Dad's health declined, the errors became more frequent and more glaring.

My heart clenched as I imagined him hunched over those same spreadsheets, his once razor-sharp mind dulled by pain and medication. He was losing his grip, and no one noticed. No one stepped in to help carry the load.

Ididn't step in.

Tears blurred my vision, but I swiped them away. I couldn't afford to fall apart. I had to be strong, had to fix this. For him, for Mom, for Jasper and his family.

By the time I'd combed through every line, every entry, I was certain. There was no foul play here. Just a brilliant man succumbing to the ravages of illness. And a family legacy suffering the consequences.

The Evertons were hemorrhaging money. And they likely had no idea. The losses were hidden in the tangle of Dad's declining work.

What could I do?

How could I break this to the Evertons? The orchard wastheir life. To find out it was in jeopardy, that they could lose everything...

I couldn't be the one to shatter their world, not when things were so fragile and new between Jasper and me. He'd be devastated. He might even blame me for not catching it sooner. For not being there when Dad started struggling.

My breath came short and sharp as panic clawed at my throat.Easy, Natalie. Think.You're a problem solver, a fixer. So fix it.

I examined the spreadsheet, my mind racing. It wouldn't be easy. It would take time, finesse, and more than a little luck. But it was doable. It had to be.

I wouldn't let Dad's reputation be tarnished. I wouldn't let the Evertons lose their birthright. I'd pour everything I had into righting this ship and keeping it afloat.

Even if it meant keeping Jasper in the dark for now and shouldering the burden alone. He had enough on his plate, helping run the orchard day-to-day. The last thing he needed to worry about was the threat of financial ruin.

I'd tell him eventually. When I had a plan. When I could present solutions instead of just problems. He'd understand.

I was doing this for him, for us. To protect what we were building, this fragile new beginning. I wouldn't jeopardize it. Not for anything.

Mind made up, I closed out the spreadsheets and gathered my things. I'd start fresh tomorrow, armed with purpose and a plan. Tonight I had a dinner to attend. A family to reconnect with, a man to stand beside.

And I'd do it with my head high and a smile on my face,even with this secret sitting heavy in my stomach. For him, for us... I could carry it. As long as it took.

I locked up the office and stepped out into the warm summer evening. The sun was dipping below the horizon and Main Street was quiet. The shops were closed and the sidewalks nearly empty.

But there, leaning against the lamppost on the corner, was a familiar figure. Tall and broad, dark hair tousled by the breeze, hands shoved in the pockets of his faded jeans.

Jasper straightened when he saw me, a slow smile spreading across his face. That smile. It still made my heart stutter and my breath catch. He pushed off the post and sauntered toward me with a loose, easy gait.

"Hey there, city girl," he drawled, his voice dripping with warm affection andsex. "Fancy meeting you here."

I grinned, the stress of the day magically melting away. "Well hey yourself, country boy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He reached out and snagged my hand, twining our fingers together. "What, I can't pick my girl up for dinner? Walk her over to my place, show her off to the family?"

My heart did a giddy little flip.His girl.He called me his girl. I ducked my head, feeling suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze. "I suppose that's allowed. Very chivalrous of you."

"I'm a regular Prince Charming." He tugged me closer until our bodies were aligned, hips and chests brushing. "Though I don't recall Cinderella carrying a backpack. Kinda ruins the whole fairy tale vibe, don't you think?"

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