I stood awkwardly close, at a loss for how to respond, willing my heart rate to slow down. Wayne trotted over and licked Julian’s arm, and finally, the boy came back to life, taking his mom’s hand and letting her lead him outside.
We hiked up the hill and to the garden, then the greenhouses, and the orchard. The kids loved the apple trees, so I refrained from complaining about them. They were a major pain in my ass. But these trees had been planted by my great-grandmother, and in the fall, we’d harvest them, andJenn would use them for baked goods at the café. We’d keep some too, and we’d make cider using the old press my grandpa had taught me to operate when I was a kid. And maybe that part was fun. Mostly because my nieces and nephews loved it.
The damn trees, though, were fussy as hell and required constant pruning and maintenance, otherwise they wouldn’t produce.
As we continued on, the tension rolling off Celine eased a bit, allowing my own agitation to subside. I hated that I’d upset her, but I wasn’t sure I could avoid it. During every interaction we’d had, she’d been suspicious and untrusting.
“We don’t drive on this road,” I explained, not sure any of them were listening. “So you can ride your bikes here. But stay off the paved road that cuts through the farm. Trucks come and go down it most days, and in the spring when the sap runs, they’ll be here every few hours.”
“My bike’s broken,” Maggie said. “The chain snapped.”
“I can fix it.” The moment the words left me, I regretted them. Dammit. Why was I getting involved?
Her little face lit up.
Celine shot me a glare, proving again that she was untrusting. The woman treated help like a threat.
But I didn’t have the time to untangle that.
“I told you I’d get to it,” she said to her little girl, still clutching Julian’s hand. “I just need the right tools.”
“Mom.” Ellie turned around and walked backward up the hill. “This guy’s got a whole barn full of tools. We just saw them.”
As much as I resented being called “this guy,” she wasn’t wrong.
“It’s no trouble,” I said to Maggie. “Even got an air pump for your tires.”
When no one responded, I exhaled and continued on, though I kept step with Celine.
“I’m sorry about back there,” I said. “I hope I didn’t scare him. I just don’t want anybody to get hurt.”
She slowly looked over at me, her eyes hard. “I’m capable of keeping my kids alive, thanks.”
“Great.” I scoffed. “Then we’re on the same side. Stop treating me like the enemy.”
“You implied it.”
“I don’t imply,” I said, forcing a soft tone. “If something needs to be said. I say it.”
“Sounds like a threat.”
“Just a promise.” Damn, she was getting under my skin. I didn’t threaten, I prepared. And people who didn’t know the difference were the ones who got hurt. I was usually more collected than this, but this woman had shown up and made me feel like a villain on my own farm.
I trudged ahead, catching up with the girls so I could direct them away from the tree line toward the back end of the property. The steepness of the hill made it a challenge to close the distance between us, but this was the fastest way up here, and I hadn’t thought to take an ATV.
“This is important,” I said as we stepped into a small pasture that flanked the massive rows of maple trees.
I pointed to one side, catching my breath. “See this long hedge?”
Ellie wandered over and studied the massive thicket of bushes. “Are those thorns?”
Maggie joined her. “And berries?”
“This is a blackberry hedge,” I explained. “It’s taken years to get it this large.”
“Kind of looks like something out of a horror movie,” Ellie mused, more light in her expression than I’d seen from her yet.
The branches were winding and twisted, the plantings growing into one another to form a complex maze of thorns, branches, and fruit.