C.H. AdmirandC.H. AdmirandC.H. AdmirandC.H. Admirand

Excerpt: One Day in Apple Grove

Book 2: Sweet Small Town USA (Apple Grove) Series

Excerpt from Chapter 2

Dusk lent a certain mystical quality to the air. Driving past the newly planted fields she let go of the day’s troubles. If she squinted, Cait could just imagine faeries flitting about waving magic wands over the earth, pond, and trees as vines, flowers, and buds burst into bloom. Letting her imagination wander, she almost didn’t see the car parked at the side of the road until she was just about to pass it.

Recognizing the jeep as Jack’s, she slowed down.

Why had he stopped? Was someone hurt? She pulled off the road in front of his vehicle, got out, and started to look for him.

“Hey, Jack—where are you?”

The silence had her gut icing over before she chastised herself that people only parked their cars and disappeared in the moves—like the one she’d watched last night trying to unwind after a long night in her woodshop. “No more late-night horror movies for you, Cait.”

She called out again, “Do you need help?”

When he still didn’t answer, she pulled out her cell phone. If anyone had gotten sick out on Eden Church Road, Peggy would have heard and would let her know. She was about to hit speed dial when she heard a deep shout coming from across the road.

Turning toward the sound, she was knocked off balance by a small, black, fuzzy missile. Wrapping her arms around the animal so it wouldn’t get hurt when she landed, her backside took the brunt of the impact—so did her phone when it hit the pavement and skittered across it. Luckily, it was still in one piece.

“Hey,” she said, as she looked down at the quivering puppy in her arms. “Where did you come from?”

The puppy’s tiny pink tongue bathed her face and nipped the end of her nose. When Cait laughed, the puppy did it again. She snuggled him close and bent to pick up her phone.

“Don’t let go of him!”

The deep voice grabbed her attention and had her relaxing—it was Jack. Cait looked up and watched the familiar tall, broad-shouldered figure moving across the road toward her. He was limping but ignoring the fact. Had he aggravated one of his injuries?

She remembered the way the town seemed to hold its breath when the letters Miss Trudi and Mrs. Gannon took turns reading at the diner stopped coming. Remembered the depth of Meg’s worry for her childhood friend—adding her own when Reverend Smith started the prayer chain. Though Jack was the same age as Meg—a half a dozen years older than her—Cait had always watched the way he and Meg were with one another…the best of friends…wondering what it would be like to confide in a friend like Jack.

“Hey!”

Jack’s voice coaxed her back to the present and the man towering over her. His height drew her eyes upward, but it was the odd combination of the worried expression on his face and his commanding presence that held her attention. He vaguely resembled the teenager she remembered all those years ago—especially those deep blue eyes. She’d noticed the difference in his build the first time he’d come home on leave—he’d added muscle to the broad expanse of his chest and tall frame—and she’d dreamed of him.

Just like always, his strong jaw and rugged good looks had her heart fluttering and tongue tying itself in knots. It was mortifying. Cait wondered if it was because he’d always been larger than life being six years older than her, or because even though they greeted one another every time they saw one another, he was still a veritable stranger.

Wasn’t it time to conquer her reaction to the man and change their status from acquaintances to friends…or maybe if she dared to admit it…more than friends?

Coming to stand beside her, he stared down at her for a moment before holding his hand out to her. “Are you all right?”

The depth of his voice did funny things to her insides as she stared up at him. But he seemed unaware of her plight as concern filled his eyes.

When she remained silent, his brow wrinkled. He frowned down at her.

She had to clear her throat to answer, “Yes, but why are you chasing this poor little puppy?” Gotta get over being tongue-tied around you.

He chuckled and the rusty sound of it only added to the man’s appeal. “The little rascal ran out in front of me,” he explained, pulling her to her feet. “I had to swerve not to hit him. I’ve been chasing him for the last fifteen minutes. Thanks for catching him.”

“I didn’t exactly catch him,” she looked down at the bundle in her arms and sighed. “He knocked me off my feet.”

He smiled and a dimple winked at her. Caitlin was charmed all over again by that touch of sweetness amid his rugged good looks.

“You’ve grown up on me, Caitlin.” He pulled her to her feet.

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I doubt I’ve changed all that much in the few years you’ve been back, Jack.”

His gaze locked on hers, and he’d yet to let go of her arm. When she shifted slightly, he dropped his hand and took a step back. “Sometimes we get stuck in a holding pattern—seeing what we’ve always seen and not really looking.”

Cait wondered if he was thinking of the time he’d spent on the other side of the Atlantic or the years before he’d left. She had a feeling it was a little of both. Unsure of how to continue, she looked up at the sky. “They’re saying we’ll have rain by midnight.”

He tilted his head to the side and his features softened, not quite a smile, but no longer frowning. The last few rays of sunlight glinted off his high and tight military haircut. Auburn? She’d forgotten he had the same hair color as her dad. Maybe he was right about seeing what you expected to. How many other things had she forgotten over the years, or not paid attention to?

He cleared his throat and said, “I heard about your grandfather’s truck.”

“Everyone makes mistakes—” she began only to be interrupted.

“When you’re in the service, you’re not at liberty to make poor decisions, you need to do the right thing, at the right time—second chances aren’t always an option.”

The bleak look in his eyes darkened their hue to midnight blue. Was he remembering something from his time in the Navy? Without thinking, she asked, “Is that why you’re limping?”

Anger flashed in the depths of his gaze, warning her she’d either hit the nail on the head, or was completely off the mark and had insulted him. Before she could ask, he ground out. “No.”

“Sorry.” She didn’t want to antagonize the man, maybe Jack didn’t have time to talk to her. She could always try again another time.

She nuzzled her face in the soft fur of the little one she’d been neglecting. The puppy sighed. Life was full of change—so much had changed after that drunk driver had taken her mother away from them. But life was also about taking chances. She decided not to wait until the next time she saw him. Who knew when that would be?

She asked, “Did you twist your ankle chasing after this little cutie?”

The dog chose that moment to lift his head and stare up at her. His head was cocked to the side, making his ears flop to the left, but it was his under bite and little black lips that had her forgetting all about Jack’s flinty-eyed stare. Melting into a warm puddle, she kissed the tip of the puppy’s nose.

“No.”

Startled by the hard edge in his reply, she looked up in time to see a mix of anger and anguish before he blinked and she was left to wonder if she’d imagined it. It was definitely time to change the subject. “What are we going to do?”

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