Page 4 of Sweater Weather (Sapphire Falls Orchard #1)

FOUR

Tilly

“ Y ou’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I storm out of the office and head home in my truck. I cannot fathom facing anyone else right now.

How the hell could she do that to me? Benny had been like a second mother to me.

Truthfully, a better mother than the one I had.

Kicking me out at seventeen after finding me with a girl in my bed was enough to send me running for the hills.

Benny had taken me in, and I’d worked for her ever since.

I always thought the farm would eventually be mine, and I’d run it.

She’d always alluded to that, so when she got sick, I never thought twice about taking care of her.

She didn’t tell her family, and they weren’t interested in much besides a piece of her inheritance.

Why the fuck would she leave it to her? You’ve got to be kidding me.

In all the years I’ve worked there, I hadn’t seen this woman once.

So it wasn’t like they were close or anything.

If anything, the woman seemed just as surprised.

Had I known her last name last night, I never would’ve hooked up with her.

I thought she was just a random ass tourist stopping on her way back down from the city.

Why did I go along with her idea to not exchange names?

I storm into the house the second I’m back on the property.

I can’t even say my house anymore, because everything is up in the air.

We’ll probably only have thirty days or less to vacate the premises.

Sighing, I start piling things into a random box.

I’m not sure where I’ll go, but it’s clear…

I need to leave. I need to go somewhere else.

I really don’t want to be here when the new owners arrive.

Most of my friends are on the property, too, so it isn’t like I can ask to stay with them.

“Tills? Are you here?” My best friend, Hattie comes up the stairs.

“I’m here,” I call back from my bedroom.

“What’s going on?” She looks around the messy room in confusion.

“Why aren’t you at the funeral?” I ask, ignoring her question.

“Well, it was mostly over, and Ollie was a bit overwhelmed by all the people. He’s in the backyard running around with the chickens.” Hattie smiles.

I glance out the window and see her six-year-old running around with the chickens. He’s making chicken sounds and holding his arms up like wings. It’s arguably adorable.

“Benny left the house to some distant relative.” I sigh, plopping on the bed.

“What?! I thought it was going to you.” Hattie’s eyebrows furrow.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. I’m too angry to understand this.” I lie back on the bed.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Do you think it’s some sort of mistake?”

“I did, but her lawyer says the paperwork is exactly what she asked for,” I grumble.

“So, what happens now? I can’t move Ollie. He loves being homeschooled here. And you know what happens when he can’t run around—imagine having to be in school almost eight hours a day,” Hattie whispers.

“I know. I just know it’s being taken over. But they could decide to sell or keep it or hire someone else to sell it.” I sigh.

“I wish we knew more,” Hattie says quietly. “I barely saw you last night, though. Did you have fun?”

“No.” I grit my teeth. “The woman I hooked up with last night happens to be the woman who just inherited the orchard.”

“WHAT?!” Hattie spins around from looking out the window to face me again. “How? What? That’s insane. Once again, how?”

“We didn’t exchange names last night. I thought she was some random woman. I didn’t do a formal background check, but now I wish I did.”

“Well, did you do a good job? Like would she consider letting us live here because of your skills? You’re always bragging, so they have to be good for something,” Hattie teases.

“Now is not the time for jokes!” I groan.

“I mean, did she know who you were? Or that she was getting this place?”

“I don’t think so. She looked pretty shocked at the lawyer’s meeting. But I don’t really know her well enough to say,” I say, thinking back to earlier.

“Okay, well then maybe she’s reasonable, and you can convince her with your charm to not give up on this place.”

“You think I have enough charm to convince her not to go back to her cushy job in the city and instead take up being a farmhand on an apple orchard?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I thought you didn’t know that much about her?” Hattie raises an eyebrow back.

“She said she’s from the city, and she’s dressed like someone out of The Devil Wears Prada. It’s not hard to guess she has a nice job.” I wave her off.

“I see.” Hattie nods.

Benny let Hattie move into the neighboring house on the property seven years ago when she was pregnant with Ollie.

Her very religious parents kicked her out for getting pregnant out of wedlock.

Benny gave her a job as the orchard’s official veterinarian.

Hattie was only a few credits shy of the title, and Benny convinced her to keep going to get her certificate, with the promise of free room and board.

Hattie has always been easygoing—and she calls me out on my shit.

I don’t know why I enjoy being called out like that, but I do.

She’s a better mom to Ollie than either of us had while growing up, and he brings more joy to this place than she does.

I never imagined enjoying having a kid around all the time, but now I’m proudly Aunt Tilly, and I can’t imagine my life without him.

Which is why the thought of moving hurts so much worse than just having to find a new place.

I’ll probably have to move away from them too.

“There has to be some kind of law against this sort of thing. Like we have to have some sort of rights, right?” Hattie asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“You’d think so, but I have no idea.” I sigh.

“I have to go put Ollie to bed, but as soon as he’s down I’ll come over with some food and my brainstorming glasses,” Hattie says before leaving.

“Ugggggh,” I groan, closing my eyes.

I wish I could talk to Benny and get some sort of explanation about what’s going on here.

The one person I want to talk to about this just isn’t around anymore.

The grief I feel is weird. I was with her until the very end, so of course I miss her, but I’m also so angry.

How the hell could she leave this place in the hands of someone who will probably sell it for a nickel?

I don’t have any hope about the woman saving the place.

Hattie tends to be more hopeful than I am.

I’m realistic, because most of the time, if you give people the benefit of the doubt, you’re the one who gets hurt.

My phone alarm goes off, and I realize it’s feeding time for the horses.

I don’t have it in me to feed them tonight, but it’s not like I’ll let them go hungry just to prove a point.

I get off the bed and change into my work clothes—boots and all.

Heading outside, I toss on a baseball cap to keep my hair out of my eyes.

It’s late spring, so although they’re welcome out of the barn, the horses often stay inside all day.

We haven’t had too many people stop by for visits, so I get it.

I ring the bell, letting them know it’s time for dinner, and grab the water pail first. Getting fresh water from the sink, I make sure everyone has a good supply for the night.

It’s rare they ever finish it all, but I don’t want them getting hot at night.

We have six horses, all varying ages, who take the same amount of food.

One by one, I make sure everyone’s in their assigned stall and lock them in for the night.

I don’t want them getting into any mischief while I’m sleeping.

Then I get each one food and pet their manes to tell them goodnight.

I don’t bother locking up the barn—no one ever comes on the property, and it’s not like someone’s going to steal our horses.

The lights at Hattie’s house flicker off as she puts Ollie to bed, the only remaining light being the one in his bedroom.

It’s a night-light, but it’s bright enough to see from the barn.

He’s still getting over being afraid of the dark, so for now he sleeps with the light on.

Heading back into the house, I get changed and wait in the living room for Hattie.

The front door’s unlocked, and because the houses are close enough together, she can bring the baby monitor over for Ollie in case he needs something.

I put on some water for mac and cheese. I’m suddenly starving from the hard labor. Just as I’m draining the pasta, I hear someone knock at the front door.

Confused, I call out, “It’s open!” Hattie doesn’t usually knock.

But the knock continues. I can’t hear if she says anything, but maybe she needs help carrying something in?

I put the pasta back in the pot and head for the front door.

When I open it, I’m shocked to find my one-night stand on my porch.

My stomach turns sour as I see her smiling at me.

Doesn’t she know how much grief she’s causing us?

“Hey, I didn’t realize you lived here,” she says.

“Yeah, well. I do.” I cross my arms and lean against the front doorframe.

“I was just hoping to chat with whoever’s in charge. I was told a few people live on the property, and they told me to come here.” She’s still dressed in her black dress from the funeral. She didn’t even stop home to change first?

“You couldn’t even wait a night?” I scoff.

“I’m supposed to be back home tomorrow. So it would be easier…” Her mouth forms a line, and she waits for me to say something. But I don’t, because I’m still pretty pissed. Mostly at myself for sleeping with her. I feel like I let my guard down accidentally.

“I guess I’ll just come back then.” She sighs and turns to walk down the front steps.

“I can show you around. I don’t want you getting lost or anything,” I grumble.

“Thank you.”

“Just give me a minute.” I sigh and head inside to grab my phone. I make sure all the flames on the stove are off and then put my boots on before meeting her outside.

“I’m Bells, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” She smiles and offers me a hand. I just stare at it until she drops it awkwardly.

“Tilly.” I don’t offer anything else.

“I can see you’re upset about this. I honestly didn’t know my aunt was going to do this. She never said anything to me. We haven’t even spoken in a few years,” Bells says.

I scoff. She’s just making this worse. Way to push the knife in even deeper—Benny didn’t even know this woman.

She isn’t some relative she was secretly close with.

She’s a stranger—one who just happened to share the same bloodline.

I’m pissed. I’ll get us through this tour as soon as possible, and hopefully she’ll be back on her way to the city.

I can’t stand thinking about her actually selling this place.