Page 88 of Hometown Girl

“You think he called you because he heard you were the brains out here,” Beth said, keeping her tone light.

“No, he heard I’m the brawn.”

Her attempt to hide her smile was unsuccessful.

“Haven’t seen one of those in a while.” Drew stood. “The smile, I mean.”

She faced him. “I could say the same to you.” His stony expression had come to define him in her thoughts. In all the time he’d been there, she’d hardly seen any genuine happiness in his eyes. Instead, he always seemed to carry a burden just a little too heavy for his shoulders.

“If I looked as pretty as you do when I smiled, I’d probably never stop.”

Her jaw tensed as she forced herself not to babble the first thing that came to her mind, which wasn’t difficult, as one quick search revealed her mind was hopelessly empty.

When he walked away, Roxie followed, leaving Beth speechless on the porch.

He thinks I’m pretty.

Reminding herself to remain in control, she stopped the nonsensical ideas from filling her head. He worked for her. In the business world, she could be sued for even looking at the man.

And she’d never admit how much looking she’d actually done.

She strolled toward Drew, Roxie and an older man wearing tattered jeans and a threadbare maroon T-shirt that fit snugly over his round midsection.

“Thanks for meeting us out here,” Drew said. “Beth, this is Walter Sherman.”

Beth shook his hand.

“I understand you’re the new owner?” Walter asked.

“My sister and I.” Molly had declined the meeting in favor of taking her new dog to the vet now that the puppy was ready to come home. Last Beth heard, she was trying to land on a name for the animal. Beth imagined they’d end up with a black Lab called Sparkles.

“Good to meet you. You’ve got yourself quite a project.” Walter surveyed the farm, taking in the barns, the acres, the work left to be done.

Beth hated the way he’d said it, like they’d bitten off more than they could possibly chew. And they had. She just didn’t like the reminder.

“We want to get a handle on the orchards,” Drew said. “I’ve done some reading, and our trees actually look pretty good.”

Beth admired the way he took ownership of the farm. Her dad would be impressed by Drew’s solid work ethic.

And he thinks I’m pretty.

“They should,” Walter said. “I’ve been pruning and harvesting them for years now.”

Beth looked at Drew, who appeared as surprised as she felt. “You have?”

“Harold probably didn’t leave much information behind, did he?” Even this early in the season, the man’s dark skin suggested hours of work out in the sun.

The photograph of Jess and the little boy sprang to Beth’s mind. “Actually, he left plenty, it’s just that we’re still sifting through everything.”

“That’s a job, I bet,” Walter said. “We’ve been caring for the trees going on twenty years now.”

Just after Jess had gone missing.

“Even after the farm closed?” Beth asked.

“Sure. After that, we harvested the apples for Sonya. Made a nice profit selling them at the farmers’ markets and the like. I imagine those apples kept them afloat for a while.”

“And after Sonya passed away?” Beth imagined all the prayers Sonya hadn’t written down but simply whispered into the wind. Had she strolled through the orchards, begging God for answers?

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