Reserved (34 page)

“You do?”

“Yup, when something falls off, we can’t be scared. We have to be like the iguanas and just grow it back.”

Makenna sat on the edge of the bed, watching her daughter tuck her shirt in, and wondered if they were just talking about lizards.

“I’m going to put breakfast in my tummy. We need to keep growing, Mama.”

With that, her daughter was gone, on her way to the kitchen where Kenna was sure her Uncle Rogan had set aside a plate for her. She picked up the clothes on the floor, threw them in the hamper, and went to get dressed.

Makenna pulled on her jeans, her muckers, and a big cable-knit sweater. She washed her face and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Looking at herself in the mirror, she knew two things—it was one of her favorite days, the start of the apple harvest, and she was finished trying to fall out of love with Travis. Maybe it was because she was home, on the farm, and he was here. Maybe she was tired of waiting for that other shoe to drop or living in her past, or maybe it was as simple as Paige telling her they needed to be iguanas.

Kenna wasn’t sure. All she knew as she ran down the steps and out into the morning air was that she loved him, needed him more now than she ever had. That would have to wait for the moment, though, because as her father liked to say, “There’s work to be done.”

She fell in step silently behind Travis and Logan as they led a small group toward the orchard.

“Ever pick apples, Travis?” her brother asked.

“I remember you talking about this a couple of years ago, but no, I’ve never picked an apple. Are there things I need to know?”

“Well, there’s some history and a few odd little rituals that you might want to know about. Our family has farmed this land for, God don’t let my dad hear my uncertainty, but I think it’s five generations?”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, we’ve really expanded in the last two generations, but there’s a picture of a few great grandfathers ago with an apple on his head. I want to say eighteen-something? When was the camera invented?”

Makenna held in a laugh listening to the two of them. Sometimes, when they were together, she actually forgot they were grown men.

“Um, eighteen hundreds, late-eighteen hundreds, I think.” Travis kicked a rock.

“So, way back then. I’m sure if my dad corners you today you’ll get all the details.”

“Okay, let’s back up. Apple on his head?”

“Yeah, every season, one Rye family member goes into the orchard alone and picks the first apple. It has to be an apple from a tree, not one that has fallen. Then he, or she in recent years, stands at the entrance to the orchard with the apple on his or her head. You still with me?”

Travis nodded.

“Once the person, the opener as we like to call him or her, is in place, the rest of the harvest crew enters. One at a time, the apple is removed, polished with one quick wipe, placed back on the opener’s head, and then the person entering gives the opener a kiss on their right cheek.”

Makenna smiled because she truly loved the ritual.

“Aren’t there dozens of people and workers that come to help harvest?” Travis asked as they arrived at the wood posts that marked the entrance.

“Yes,” Logan said as they both noticed Makenna behind them.

“Each one kisses the opener? Some of those guys don’t seem like they kiss all that much,” Travis said, looking back at the approaching group.

Logan and Makenna laughed.

“For some of them, it’s probably their only kiss, but I’m telling you it’s ritual, maybe even a little superstitious. Every single man, woman, and child polished the apple and kissed Garrett on his right cheek last season,” Logan said.

“Garrett? As in your brother Garrett?”

“The very one,” Makenna answered.

“Wow. That’s pretty cool.”

“Oh, and I almost forgot—the opener then has to eat the apple,” Logan added.

“Huh, that’s great. When do the festivities start?”

As if on cue, Garrett walked up with Paige on his shoulders. She was still carrying a piece of toast and she’d put on her red puffy jacket. Her long blonde pigtails were braided.

“Your hair looks beautiful,” Makenna said, touching Paige’s braid. “I know your uncle didn’t do that hair, did you get Kara to help?”

“He did! While I was putting breakfast in my belly, Uncle braided. He’s super fast.”

“You braided her hair?” Kenna looked at Garrett.

He wrinkled his brow. “Uh, yeah, that surprises you? I braided yours a time or two when we were growing up. Logan always gets the credit, but I did my share of braiding and feminine product purchasing.”

They all laughed.

Paige reached for him, and after a warning glare Travis was sure he deserved, Garrett set Paige down next to him. She pulled her uncle down and kissed his cheek and then took Travis’s hand. Her little hand nestled into his, and suddenly he went from existing to living again, just like that.

“Hey, I saw some flowers over by the barn. Maybe we should put some flowers in your braids.”

Paige beamed up at him. “I love flowers.”

“Most girls do.”

“Yeah, what else do you know about girls, My Travis?”

He laughed, and Paige swung their clasped hands back and forth. She was looking up at him, waiting for an answer. “Oh, you want me to answer that. Okay, well, I know that girls like animals.”

Paige nodded. “Not all girls like them. Some girls think they smell, but those girls are stupid.” She quickly put her hand over her mouth.

“Is stupid not allowed?”

Paige shook her head. “Mama and I have a list now of words that are not allowed. She says it’s because I’m getting bigger and sassier. I need to keep eyes on my mouth, that’s what she says.”

“Yeah, me too.” Travis looked toward the barn and found the wildflower patch he remembered passing.

“So, what else do girls like?”

“They . . . like stories and pancakes. They like cookies.”

Paige nodded enthusiastically.

“They like mac and cheese. They like drawing pictures. Oh, and all girls like to talk.”

“Yes, we do. Mama talks a lot, sometimes to herself. And I’ve even heard her say a few words on the list.”

Travis laughed, crouched down, and picked a few yellow and white flowers.

“Okay, harvest princess, hold still.”

Travis put a few flowers down her braids and then tucked some in the elastics at the end. Paige stood stock-still, looking up at the birds and the wind blowing through the trees above them.

“I think that will do it. You look beautiful.”

She swished her braids and smiled at him. The sun touched her tiny face, and Travis knew he would always want her in his life. If he had to conjure up some scenario without Kenna, he would deal with that, but he’d never met a little girl like Paige and he was pretty sure his heart would stop if he ever had to let her go.

“Can you lift me up so I can see?” she asked, walking in her little cowboy boots toward a truck parked next to the barn.

“Sure.”

He lifted her and this time, when she smiled, Travis noticed her front tooth had grown all the way in. Another milestone he was there to witness.

“They look very pretty. Thank you, My Travis.” She kissed him on the cheek.

He set her down, and she took his hand again as they walked back to join the group.

“I noticed your tooth is all the way in now.”

“Yup.” She nodded. “You know what else girls like?”

“What?”

“Boys.”

He laughed.

“Is that so?”

She nodded. “I mean, not all boys because some are . . . not smart,” Paige said, clearly trying to avoid another word on the list. “But nice boys, smart boys who cook for us and make us lunch—me and Mama, we like those kinds of boys.”

Travis grinned and squeezed her little hand. Right before they reached the group, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “I like you and your mama too, Paige.”

Her cheeks pinked, and she swished her braids one more time and ran back to Kenna. Just like that, Travis knew two kinds of love.

“Impressive work, man,” Garrett said after Paige showed him her flowers.

“Hey, thanks.” Travis fell in step next to Kenna as they approached what looked like the entrance to the orchard.

“You ready to head in? You always take so damn long,” Garrett said, handing Makenna a canvas bag with a leather strap.

She fastened the strap around her neck, letting the bag hang in front of her.

“Do I get one of those?” Travis asked.

Garrett handed him the other one he was holding. “You think you can keep up, city boy?”

Travis laughed, and Kenna walked toward the orchard as Paige cried out, “We’re starting. We’re starting.”

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, barely realizing he’d touched her arm.

“I’m the opener.”

When she turned and walked into the orchard she’d been visiting since she was a little girl, younger than her daughter, Makenna looked up and felt whole. Her face flushed and her stomach was jumpy.

As she walked among the apple trees, she touched the trunks and listened to the crunching and the early morning birds overhead. The air was moist and chilled. She felt alive and grounded in the land that helped make her. When she was nine rows back, she turned right and counted six trees in this time. That would be her tree this year. The last time she’d been opener, her life had been a day-to-day struggle to stay sane. She remembered walking the same nine rows back, touching each tree and barely being able to continue. Nine had been Adam’s lucky number, so much so that they were married on September 9th. He’d been crazy superstitious; Kenna smiled at the memory now. After she’d gotten to nine, she’d turned right and counted one tree for each year of Paige’s life. He’d been gone almost three years back then and she was still drowning in grief. It may have been a morning much like this one, but she had not noticed. She’d stood in the middle of the orchard, listening to her trees and crying for what she had lost and the changes she wasn’t sure she could handle.

This time, she counted six trees to the right, lifted her face to the sun that was now just starting to peek through the leaves, and sent a kiss up to him, her first love, the father of her sweet baby girl. He was always with her: sometimes it was an ache, but lately she’d found him more in a gust of ocean air or in the ice cream-covered smile of their daughter. Paralyzing sadness had turned to ache, and Kenna had learned a long time ago that ache was simply part of life. Good and bad, yin and yang. She reached up, picked her apple, and walked back toward her good.

Travis waited until last. He patiently watched what was really the coolest thing he’d seen in a long time. At least three dozen people performed the ritual and kissed a now beaming and laughing Makenna Rye. Paige was already running in and out of the trees with a smaller bag around her neck. Garrett, Logan, and Kara were chasing her. Her giggle echoed through the morning air. Travis stepped forward after a short man in a plaid shirt kissed Makenna and joined the others.

Their eyes met.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked quietly.

Travis stepped close to her, placed his cheek next to her cold cheek, and almost collapsed. It had been a month—four weeks since he’d touched her, and his body coursed with everything it had been missing.