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“It did.”

Her mother wasn’t asking anything more. Janice did not ask whether Kate still intended to leave or whether Wes had changed anything. Kate was grateful for that. What would she have said? She did not know yet.

Penny looked up from the apple in her lap. “When are we going home?”

“In about a week.”

“Before preschool?”

“Yes. You’ll be back for preschool.”

“And Maisie?”

“And Maisie.”

Penny smiled, completely satisfied.

Kate looked down at her phone. Her daughter loved being here. She also loved home. So did Kate. That was not a problem she had to solve this afternoon.

She answered the client, confirming the appointment, then slipped the phone back into her pocket.

Another gust moved through the trees. This one was strong enough that Alan looked toward the sky. “I’ll walk the lower rows later.”

Janice turned toward him. “Later as in after we finish sitting here, or later as in you disappear and come back when it’s dark?”

Alan smiled. “After we finish sitting here.”

“Good.”

He reached for the last sandwich.

Kate watched him, then her mother, then Penny, who had returned to Eileen’s side and was explaining at great length the possible names for her new doll. For once, nobody was in a hurry. Kate leaned back against the tree and stayed there with them a little longer.

CHAPTER 16

Wes

By late afternoon, Wes had checked the forecast often enough that he knew the numbers before he opened the app. They had changed again anyway.

He stood beside the packing barn with one boot resting on the step of the tractor and read the update twice. The rain was coming sooner than it had been that morning, and the wind behind it had strengthened enough that he was no longer interested in waiting to see whether the system would drift away overnight. It still might. That no longer mattered. There was enough fruit ready now that hoping for a better forecast had stopped being the sensible choice.

His bear had been unusually quiet while Wes worked through the implications. You are worried.

Wes slipped the phone into his pocket and looked across the orchard. The crew had finished the block he had brought forward that morning, and the last trailer was on its way toward the packing barn. I’m planning.

That was not what I said.

Wes smiled despite himself. No. I’m not worried yet. But tomorrow just became a bigger day.

His bear seemed satisfied with the distinction. Wes was not sure he was.

He walked the cider block again before the light began to fade, testing fruit from different trees rather than trusting what he could see from the track. Joel’s festival order was only one part of the harvest, but it was a part Wes had agreed to take responsibility for. He had no intention of calling Joel in two days and explaining that he had left usable fruit hanging because the weather had changed faster than he expected. Some of it could come in now. More than he had planned. The question was how much they could realistically handle without creating another problem somewhere else.

Wes crouched beside one of the bins and wrote the numbers on the back of an old packing slip. His own crew could bring more in tomorrow if they started early and shifted a few people between sections. He had enough empty bins if he stopped sending so many down to the far block. One trailer needed a tire checked before he trusted it with a full load. The packing barn could take more fruit, but not indefinitely.

His phone rang before he finished. Joel. Wes answered. “You checking the weather too?”

“I was hoping you were going to tell me I didn’t need to.”