Some Bright Someday (Maple Valley #2) - Melissa Tagg Page 0,50
Apple Fest last weekend, apparently they’d planned a date for today. So you really shouldn’t be saddling them with the kids.
But that wasn’t the real reason she was hesitating. It was the residual fear left over from yesterday. It was needing to know the children were okay in every moment. Was this what parents went through on a daily basis?
“Look, Jen! Mara signed my cast.” Violet held up her injured arm from her perch next to Colie. Curls peeked out from the pointy little hood tied under her chin and her cheeks were rosy. Probably more from excitement than the nip in the air.
“Better get Marsh’s autograph next,” she called back, then looked to Lucas’s sister, who stood at the back of the wagon, ushering the last of the riders on board. That pet goat of hers—Lucas had said her name was Flynnie, hadn’t he?—was at her side. “It’s only a ten- or fifteen-minute ride, right?” Oh, why was she being such a worrywart?
Kit nodded, reaching down to scratch Flynnie between her ears. “And the wagon’s sturdy and the hitch connecting it to the tractor is stable and Beckett’s a safe driver.”
Was her anxiety that obvious?
Mara laughed from the wagon bed. “Jen, you’re forgetting I was a nanny for a long time. They’ll be fine with us. Go find Luke. And make sure to tell him about dinner at the Everwood tonight.”
She turned to Kit. “You said he’s in the south field?”
“Far south. Fixing a fence. He was way too moody to be around orchard guests today so I took him off climbing wall duty.”
“There’s a slight possibility I’m at fault for that.” More like a strong likelihood.
And maybe Kit knew it. Maybe Lucas had told her what Jenessa had said last night. Perhaps that’s why Kit couldn’t quite hide the tint of annoyance behind her eyes as she latched the door of the wagon bed and motioned toward Beckett. The grumbling tractor gave a lurch, and Jenessa lifted her hand to wave at the kids.
Violet and Cade’s return waves had her cheeks stretching, but it was Colie’s that sent curls of warmth sailing through her. One week. One week with these kids and everything she’d thought she’d known about her life had thoroughly upended.
The house that’d once seemed hollow and heavy was now filled with life.
The memories she’d thought impossible to outrun had fallen behind.
And that dogged sense of dullness—that restlessness inside of her that had fueled her need to find Aunt Lauren, to sell the house, to figure out why the newspaper no longer fulfilled her—she hadn’t felt it in days.
“You might want to hurry up and head to the south field. It’s a bit of a walk and the kids will get back before you do if you wait too long.”
She glanced at Lucas’s sister. No, she definitely hadn’t been imagining the flicker of irritation in Kit’s expression. “Hey, um, sorry for monopolizing so much of your brother’s time lately.”
Kit only shrugged. “He definitely doesn’t mind being monopolized. Not by you.” She gave a whistle to Flynnie and moved off.
Leaving Jenessa to wonder why such a blunt statement felt so packed with hidden meaning. Was Kit trying to insinuate . . .?
No. She turned the direction of the south field, feather-thin clouds barely muting the sun. Lucas would never look at her like that. She was . . . they were . . . had always been . . . friendly, that’s all.
Did Lucas go above and beyond to help her out? Of course, but that’s what friends did. Look at all Sam had done for her over the years. Why, yesterday when she’d had to rush away from that silly auction, he’d bid on four players for her. Refused to let her pay him back. They’d already made arrangements to be at her house by late morning.
Still, it raised the question: Why was Lucas single? She’d never really thought about it, but now that she did, it didn’t make sense. The guy was kind, thoughtful, and respectful. He was a hard-worker and the opposite of self-absorbed. Any single woman with half a brain in her head—
Her steps came to an abrupt halt at the sight of him, working on a fence just as Kit had said. His hair was pulled into a scruffy ponytail at the back of his head and even from here, she could see the sweat glistening on his brow as he hefted a roughly hewn fence post and shoved it into the