Evergreen Acres was truly a rare gem from beginning to end. When we arrived, the parking lot was full, and Jaelyn explained the regular Saturday family events they hold. While the families were leaving, we inspected the new snack shack, which was anything but a shack. It resembled a small garden shed, but had a side door for entry and a front window that lifted to reveal a counter for orders. The interior was bare, but Jaelyn had explained she was there to discuss what they needed to order so the shack would be ready for the holiday season.
I’d left her to that and headed inside to check out the store. On the way over, she explained that the store sold items from local crafters as well as food from local farmers. I was perusing the jars of jam and honey when Becca approached me. “Dr. Warren, so nice to see you today.”
Turning, I smiled and shook my head. “It’s Major, remember?”
“I keep forgetting,” she said, smacking herself in the forehead. “Find anything that interests you?”
“I was looking for more of the jam that Audrey had in the welcome basket, but now I can’t remember the name of it. It wasstrawberry rhubarb.”
“It was probably from Landstrom’s Farms,” she said, and I snapped my finger with a nod. “Unfortunately, that’s a seasonal jam.”
“Why would I think otherwise?” I asked, tongue-in-cheek, but I was still disappointed, nonetheless.
“Think how good it will taste come summer, though,” she said as she lifted a jar from the display. “In the meantime, try their orange marmalade. It’s delicious.”
“Especially on peach pie?” I asked, raising my brow as I took the jar.
“Ha, you’ve heard about the way we top our pie here in Bells Pass.”
“I’ll admit I was skeptical until Jaelyn forced me to try it. I’ll never go back.”
She pointed at me with a nod and turned her attention to the corner where a little girl was playing with a dog. “Be good to Bradley, Hope,” she called, and the little girl looked up at her mother.
“He’s being a goofus roofus.” Her giggling as the little dog lapped at her cheek made me smile.
“She’s adorable, Becca.”
“Thank you. She’s our pride and joy.”
I motioned her toward several chairs near where Hope was playing and lowered myself into a seat, tossing the jar back and forth between my hands before setting it on the table. “Could I ask you a question that goes no further than us?”
“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze darting to her daughter as though she knew I needed a moment to gather myself.
“You’re younger than Cameron, right?”
“Yes, by almost ten years.”
“Was that a hang-up for you in the beginning?” I asked, to which she shrugged.
“Not as much as my past was, if we’re being honest.”
“I’m looking for honesty,” I said with a nod. “Patient doctor confidentiality applies here; in case you’re wondering.”
“You might be the only one who doesn’t know my past, Major,” she said with a chuckle. “In a nutshell, my foster familywas essentially sex traffickers and made me do things to survive that no one my age should have had to do.”
“My goodness, I wasn’t expecting that. I’m sorry,” I said, using the same tone I often use when a surgery doesn’t go well and I have to break the news to the patient.
“Thanks, but since I met Cameron and he taught me how to love myself, my life has done a one-eighty. I still deal with PTSD from my childhood, but knowing my triggers has helped keep the episodes to a minimum now that I have control of my environment. The age gap, well, that was never really a thing between us.”
“I don’t follow,” I admitted, shifting to get more comfortable.
She tossed her head side to side. “We knew he was older than me, but when we were together, we were equals. Like, there wasn’t any weird power difference or daddy-type worship on my part.”
"The years just didn’t matter,” I said, and she nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”
“Because you’re older than Jaelyn by ten years?”
“Not quite,” I said with a lip tilt. “Nine years, but I meant the part about how when we’re together, we feel like equals. At least I think we do?”
