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“Okay, you might not hate me, but you definitely don’tlikeme. I get it. Madison hurt you—bad. But I’m not her, and Ian isn’t you.” Her chest rose and fell as she tightened her hands into fists. “I’ve had enough of this treatment from you. Just do me a favor and butt out.”
Brock’s head reared back.
Jessica continued. “Despite what you might think, I’m a pretty decent person. If I wasn’t interested, I wouldn’t have let him get so close, okay?” She blew out a frustrated breath, and the strand of hair near her face lifted before drifting lazily down again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Brock folded his arms. She could see him struggling with something deeper than she’d ever be able to fix. Finally, he gave her a sharp nod. “Fine. But if you hurt him, I’m going to make your life miserable.”
She held out her hand and smiled. “Deal.”
He made a disgusted face as he glanced at her hand. “Seriously?” Then he rolled his eyes and headed toward another row of trees. He tossed her a look over his shoulder. “You coming?”
Jessica grinned and jogged after him. The dog yipped and ran beside her legs. If only Ian was as easy to figure out as Brock was.
They moved down aisle after aisle, gathering another dozen apples. By the time the sun rose overhead, she was exhausted. Jessica ducked under a tree and lowered herself to sit against the trunk.
Brock hopped off a ladder and peered at her. “You giving up already?” The hint of a smile had returned to his expression.
Jessica removed her hat and fanned herself with it. Small apples littered the ground where she sat, bruised but releasing sweet smells into the air. “I think so. I don’t know how you guys do this day in and day out. I can handle the cold, but when the temperature reaches above seventy-five, I’m down for the count.”
Brock chuckled and dropped to sit beside her. Rusty lowered next to Brock and rested his head on his paws. He opened his mouth in an exaggerated yawn, his tongue lolling out before being pulled back in.
Jessica smiled at the dog, then at Brock. “Besides, I want to take some of these apples back so I can make a pie for dinner.”
Brock’s lips twitched. “Wait a minute. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t know. What do you think I’m saying?”
“Ian has raved about Sal’s famous apple pie for a few months now. None of us have taken the time to head out that way, but it doesn’t stop him from bragging about it whenever he gets a chance to eat it.”
“Okay.” Her stomach fluttered. She knew Ian loved the apple pie she made. But she didn’t know he talked it up.
“Are you the one who makes that pie?”
She grinned. “I’ve been in charge of making pies since I was eighteen.”
His brows lifted and he leaned back on his palms. “That’s impressive.”
Jessica shrugged. “Don’t say that until you try it for yourself.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Rusty jolted to his feet. His brown ear lifted slightly, and he peered toward the end of the long aisle they were on. His tail had stopped wagging and his whole body was stiff.
Brock frowned. Jessica glanced in the direction Rusty looked. “Do you think Ian would be back already?”
Slowly, Brock shook his head. “He wouldn’t have come from that direction.”
Her heart rate increased slightly. Ian had said there were a lot of dangerous animals that came down from the mountains. It could be a wolf. Their horses weren’t safe by themselves. She got to her feet and shaded her eyes with her hand. “Do you think it’s an animal?”
Brock got to his feet too. “Don’t know.”
Rusty took a few steps forward and barked. Growls emanated from his throat, and he barked again.
Brock took two steps to close the distance between them. He grabbed Jessica’s elbow and led her in the opposite direction that Rusty was focused on. “Come on. We should get out of here.”
She stumbled after him, sneaking looks over her shoulder as they went. She didn’t see anything. But Rusty must have better vision than she did. He continued yapping, backing up with his focus remaining on the far side of the orchard. If it was a wolf, they could still be followed. “Do you have a gun?”
Brock shot her a look. “Of course I have a gun.”
