Excerpt

Chapter One

When Josephine Mitchell’s phone rang on her way out the door, she knew something was wrong. It wasn’t the way the phone rang, or the fact that it had already rung six times as she straddled her apartment doorway, undecided, but the fact that it was ringing at all at seven fifty-two on a Saturday morning.

Answering would make her late for work and she was sure Mr. Morton would be less than understanding this time. Regardless, Josie re-entered her apartment, picked up the extension, and checked her caller ID. A frown pulled her brows. Her sister hadn’t called since she’d gotten the big news. Josie hoped she was okay.

With a helpless glance at her watch, she answered. “Hi, Laurel.”

There was a pause at the other end. “Josie? It’s Nate. Your brother-in-law.” As if Josie didn’t know his voice. He’d only dated her sister four years before finally proposing.

But Nate had never called Josie, and the fact that he was now only confirmed her previous suspicion. “Is everything okay? Laurel and the baby...”

“They’re fine.”

Thank God. Laurel had been excited about the pregnancy. She and Nate had been trying so long.

“I’m calling about the orchard.” Nate’s tone was short and clipped. “I think it’s high time you hauled your city-slicker fanny back here to help your sister.”

She almost thought he was joking—Nate was as easy-going as they came, and she’d never heard him sound so adamant or abrupt. But there was no laughter on the other end of the line.

Words stuck in Josie’s throat. She swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t. Responsibility is a foreign word to you. I get that. But there comes a time when a person has to step up to the plate and—“

“Wait a minute!”

“—Help when they’re needed. And Laurel needs your help. We can’t afford to hire anyone else, you know.”

This didn’t sound like Nate. True, she hadn’t talked to him in ages, but he’d always been the picture of Southern hospitality. And he’d been nothing but wonderful to Laurel as far as she knew.

Josie checked the clock on the wall. Another six minutes and she’d be pounding the pavement for another job. Maybe she could call Nate back later. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m due at work in—”

His choked laugh sounded anything but amused. “I don’t know why I thought you’d care.” He muttered. She could barely hear his words over the whir of the dishwasher. “You didn’t bother coming for the wedding or funeral, why would you care about this?”

“What this? Would you tell me what’s going on?”

His breaths were like a caged animal, as if he expected a fight, though she had no idea why.

“Laurel is expecting twins. She found out yesterday at the ultrasound.”

Twins. The word brought back a cluster of memories, none of them good.

But Laurel was undoubtedly thrilled. Josie was surprised she hadn’t called, but then again, they hadn’t spoken much since the funeral. “Well, that’s great news.”

“The doctor wants her to take it easy.”

There wasn’t much easy about working an apple orchard this time of year, with harvest just around the bend. The phone call was making sense now. All except Nate’s antagonism. But then he’d always been protective of Laurel.

“She really wants these babies, Josephine. We both do.” His voice wobbled just a bit on the last word, pinching something inside her.

“Of course you do.” It was all sinking in now. She knew why he’d called and she also knew she wouldn’t say no because, despite the distance between them, she loved her sister.

“She needs help, that’s the bottom line. I don’t need to tell you how much work is involved this time of year, and she can’t do it. We can hardly afford to hire more help.”

“No, she can’t work the harvest,” Josie agreed. His words from a moment ago replayed in her head like a delayed tape. “You said you can’t hire someone.” Laurel hadn’t mentioned financial troubles. She talked about their manager like he was God’s gift to apples.

“Not after last year’s failure.”

“Failure?” Her sister hadn’t said anything of the kind. True, they didn’t speak often, but when the topic of the orchard did come up, Laurel said everything was fine. At least, Josie thought she had.

“Laurel didn’t tell you? There was an Easter frost. We lost the apples.”

“Frost?” An orchard could lose a whole crop to frost, though this was the first time it had happened at Blue Ridge. Why hadn’t Laurel said something?

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I thought she told you.”

What else had her sister omitted? Laurel was always trying to protect her. Josie should’ve inquired more directly. “How bad is it?”

She heard a door closing, and he lowered his voice. “The place is a money pit. We don’t have anything else to put into it.”

She couldn’t believe the orchard was doing so poorly.

This changes everything, Josie, do you realize that?

The selfish thought materialized before she could stop it. Her plans...how could she follow through now? When Laurel was overburdened with a failing orchard and pregnant with twins?

Nate was speaking again. “Grady insists he can turn the place around, but I’m wondering if we shouldn’t sell it.”

She and Laurel were the third generation to own the orchard, and as far as Josie knew, not one of the Mitchells had thought those words, much less said them. And she’d thought Laurel would be the last one to do so.

“Laurel’s considering that?” Their father’s death had left Josie with shares that tied her to that place. Even six hundred miles away, she dragged it behind her wherever she went, and it weighed her down like an anchor. But if Laurel was considering a sale...

Now that she’d slipped the thought on for size, it was starting to feel more comfortable, like her favorite pair of Levis.

“I haven’t exactly broached the topic,” Nate said.

“How does this year’s crop look?”

“Promising. She was hoping this year would put us in the black. But a strong crop means extra work and plenty of hands on deck. And I can’t afford time off.

Nate ran Shelbyville’s one and only insurance agency. Good thing they’d had his income to fall back on.

“So can you come back and help us through harvest?” he asked.

Josie’s eyes flittered over the room, past the clutter of her life, toward the window facing downtown Louisville. She closed her eyes and was, in an instant, back at Blue Ridge Orchard. She could almost smell the apples ripening on the trees. Hear the snap of the branch as an apple twisted free. See the ripples of Sweetwater Creek running alongside the property.

And with that thought, the other memories came. The ones that chased her from Shelbyville six years ago. The ones that still chased her every day. The ones that caused a dread, deep and thick in her belly, at the mention of going home.

“Josie, you there?”

She opened her eyes, swallowing hard. “I’m here.”

“I know you’ve got your job and your plans and your life.”

She breathed a wry laugh. Ironically, none of that mattered. The one plan that did matter could still play out, same tune, different venue.

What mattered most now was seeing that Laurel’s life was settled. And Laurel’s life wouldn’t be settled until she was out from under the orchard. Josie saw that clearly now. And it wouldn’t happen, she knew, without a lot of coaxing. She only hoped there was enough time.

“I wouldn’t have called if we weren’t desperate.”

Josie shoved the dread down and forced the words. “I’ll come.”

Excerpted from Sweetwater Gap © 2009 by Denise Hunter. Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.