“That’s all right. It’s just rows of trees,” I say. “Plus, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who can help me find my way around.”
“It’s twenty acres, though,” the woman next to her says. She’s vaguely familiar, and at first, I can’t place her. But then I notice her eyes—the same striking amber as Cooper’s. Her gaze homes in on something behind me. “Coop, can you go with Naomi’s niece? She’s taking these two apple-picking. I don’t want her to end up getting lost like the Turners did last year.”
I don’t glance back at Cooper, and I don’t give him a chance to reply. “What about Jake?” I hitch my thumb in the direction of the register. “He can help me.”
“Jake has a long line right now,” Aunt Naomi says. “I’d rather not switch out the person dealing with the money without balancing the drawer first, and I don’t really have time for that.”
“Don’t worry, Cooper knows his way around,” his mom adds with a friendly smile.
Too bad getting lost is the least of my concerns right now.
I haven’t talked to Cooper since the first day of school and didn’t plan on talking to him again before going back to New York. With the exception of a few glares I catch him shooting my way, he mostly avoids me, even at our shared lunch table. I can’t believe I’m being forced to hang out with him today.
Accepting my fate, I huff and turn to find Cooper already scooping Harley up and setting him on his broad shoulders. Harley giggles as he fists Cooper’s hair, tugging on it as if holding on to reins.
“Giddy up!” he calls.
“Oh, dear…,” Harley’s grandma mumbles. But Cooper takes it in stride, telling Harley to be sure to hold on tight.
“Let’s head out,” he says, giving the old woman a smile. A stupidly beautiful smile.
“Hey, new girl!” Jake shouts from across the store. “It was eight seventy-five. Loser.” He winks at me before turning back to his line. I smile and shake my head, catching Cooper watching us before he makes his way out the door toward the fields.
I sidle up next to the woman and link my arm through hers. “I’m Ellis.”
“Lovely to meet you, Ellis. I’m Dorothy.”
She places her soft hand on my forearm and lets me lead her outside.
It’s a cool September day following a heavy morning rain, and the grass is still wet, leaving my boots soaked as we saunter through the field of trees. In just the past week, leaves have begun to change, the lush green now giving way to hints of the yellows and reds to come. Families roam the area, picking various types of apples and placing them in their baskets, some climbing the wooden ladders placed throughout the orchard for whoever might need them.
Before long, Dorothy and I fall into an easy conversationabout Street Media and my college plans. She’s eager to tell me about her daily walks with the friends she affectionately calls her “girls,” their Sunday games of bridge, her favorite characters inLaw & Order: SVU, and her old job as a travel agent.
We’re strolling beneath the overcast sky, goose bumps covering my arms and the sweet scent of apples tickling my nose, when Harley tugs hard on Cooper’s hair and shouts, “Stop here!” Cooper winces as he stops at a tree filled with bright red apples. Harley wiggles off Cooper’s back and stares up at the apples dangling from every branch. “I want that one.”
We all crane our necks, searching for the specific apple he’s talking about.
“This one?” Cooper asks, tapping one of the high-hanging fruits.
“No. The one all the way up there.” Harley’s chubby finger points beyond where Cooper can reach.
“Harley, no one can reach the ones up there. Choose one of these,” Dorothy says, gesturing to the apples on the lower branches.
Harley stomps his foot, his face puckering into a defiant pout. “No.”
“It’s no problem, Dorothy. I’ll grab a ladder,” I say. I let go of her arm. “You wait here.”
After weaving through two rows of trees and ducking beneath low branches, I get to the closest ladder I can find. It’s folded and leaning against an apple tree. I heave it upright and begin walking it into a horizontal position when Cooper’s hand reaches around me.
“I got it,” he says, grabbing the ladder.
“I can get it,” I tell him, not bothering to mask the annoyance in my voice as I let go.
“I know you can.” He lifts the ladder with ease. “But you don’t have to. And I can probably get it over there faster, which is vital because there’s no telling what sort of trouble that kid will get into if we leave him alone for longer than thirty seconds.”
I smile because he’s right. “Or even longer than three seconds, really.”
“You’re right. His energy is unparalleled,” Cooper says, exposing the first crack in his icy demeanor by smiling back.
