Page 5 of Sweater Weather (Sapphire Falls Orchard #1)

FIVE

Bells

I get the feeling things aren’t going to be easy working with Tilly.

She already hates me, and I can’t say I blame her.

This is unexpected for me too, but the way she’s looking at me is terrifying.

I’m glad I texted my best friend, El, before I got here.

It feels like the beginning of a serial-killer movie.

Not that I really think she’ll kill me. But she’s basically an angry stranger.

I follow behind her along the dirt path, glad I opted for my gym sneakers. I had a feeling heels wouldn’t do me any good here; turns out, I was right.

“That’s the barn. We have six horses, but I already said goodnight, so we’re not going in there. That way is their pen where they run around during the day,” Tilly says.

“Do horses have a bedtime?” I joke, but Tilly just stares at me.

“Along this road, we have Hattie’s house. She’s the on-call vet for the animals. She’s a single mom who lives there with her son. And there’s another house where Lina lives—she owns the bakery you see to the right.”

I can’t tell if she’s laying it on thick or just trying to give as much detail as possible.

“The farther we go down this path leads you to the actual orchards. We have six varieties of apples that grow yearly. It’s usually my job to tend to them. That’s not something that can be taught overnight or explained in a tour.”

“Got it.” I nod. Clearly, this isn’t going to be a smooth transition.

“And you stay in that house?” I motion to the red one closest to the barn.

“Yes.”

“Where did my aunt stay?”

“The first house on the property—the white one? That was hers,” Tilly says, her jaw tight.

“Got it.” I nod again.

I look toward the apple fields and feel nostalgic for my summers here as a kid.

I don’t remember much—except eating so many apples that my stomach hurt.

My aunt and I made apple pie and helped the people who worked here.

My cousins often stayed with us, now that I think about it.

I guess our parents would drop us off for the summer.

It’s beautiful. The entire place looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.

But it’s not like I’m going to uproot my life for this place.

Not that I necessarily have much to go back home to. Today I found out that my ex, Taylor, got the promotion I wanted. Now she’s going to be in charge of me at work—which is the last thing I want. So it’s not like I’m looking forward to going home tomorrow.

“We do have rights as far as kicking us out. None of us have written leases, but I’m sure we could find the paperwork Benny had for us. We’re not leaving without a fight,” Tilly says, breaking the silence.

“I’m not looking to evict anyone. I don’t know what my plan is for this place, but I definitely wouldn’t leave anyone without a place to work or live. I wanted to see it for myself, meet the people who work here, and do some research,” I explain.

“Oh.” Tilly’s shoulders relax.

“I know we don’t know each other, but since I’m the new owner, that’s going to have to change.”

“Great,” Tilly says sarcastically.

A brunette waves at us, and Tilly waves back.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“That’s Hattie, the vet,” Tilly says.

That doesn’t answer my real question, but I guess it’s none of my business.

“Can I meet her?” I ask.

“Sure.”

We walk back toward the houses. Hattie is sitting on her front porch and reading a book.

A glass of wine rests on the table next to her, along with a baby monitor.

I guess her son must still be young if she’s using that.

When she sees us walking up, she puts her book down and meets us at the bottom of her steps.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She eyes me suspiciously. Her short, cropped black curls frame her face, freckles scattered across her cheeks and down her thighs. I recognize her from the funeral.

“Hi, I’m Bells—the new owner.” I reach out to shake her hand, and her smile fades.

“I’m Hattie.” She shakes my hand but looks anxiously between Tilly and me.

“She asked to see the place, so I was giving her a quick tour,” Tilly says.

“I just wanted to see the place myself,” I add.

“My son’s sleeping, or I’d accompany y’all. It’s really a beautiful place, especially when the apples are in season and the leaves are changing,” Hattie says with a smile.

“I recall.” I smile.

“Well, we should get going. Your tour is finished, and you should get to packing before you head home tomorrow,” Tilly says, clearly trying to rush me out.

“Why don’t you stop by tomorrow morning? Lina makes the best apple turnovers, and we all usually have breakfast together. Then you can meet a few of the day staff, too,” Hattie suggests.

I ignore how Tilly shoots daggers at her friend for inviting me.

“I’d love that. I want to see all this place has to offer.”

“Perfect. We stop for breakfast around eight a.m. Sound good?” Hattie asks.

“Yes.” I nod.

“Great,” Tilly says through gritted teeth.

It’s honestly a little funny at this point. I know she doesn’t like me, but it’s not like I’ll get the orchard and disappear. I have to make real decisions now—whether I want to sell or what I’m going to do with the place. I can’t leave it in the hands of complete strangers and hope for the best.

Getting to know all the staff and what this place looks like in the daylight is a great idea. I also need to stop by my aunt’s house and see where she keeps the financial books. I have a key to a file cabinet from the lawyer, but I don’t know where it is exactly.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow then. Thanks for the tour.” I say goodbye and head for the cab I paid to wait for me. It’s costly but more efficient than calling it back. I knew I wouldn’t be here long.

When I get in the cab, I start a few Google searches. I’m curious what this place originally sold for and what it might go for now. I can’t find specifics, but getting a rundown of the website, the social media accounts, and the typical business methods they use can’t hurt.

Unfortunately, all I find are Google hours—no Instagram account, not even a cheap website. This place is in need of my help and a complete makeover. How can we get new customers here if no one even knows it exists? There’s no way they’re relying solely on locals to get them through the year.

By the time I get back to my family’s apartment, I have a better idea of what the orchard looks like.

To my surprise, when I open the front door, my parents and some of my aunts and uncles are inside.

Thank God I managed to hide my dirty clothes and make the bed before I left.

The apartment isn’t big, but it holds my two aunts, three uncles, and my parents.

“Finally! We were waiting for you,” my mother says, hanging up the phone.

“What’s going on?” I tread carefully. I have a good idea this is about the orchard, but I don’t know what exactly. I take off my sneakers and place them by the door, even though everyone else hasn’t bothered to.

“We talked to the family lawyer, and we think there may be a way to get around Benny’s will,” my mother says cheerfully.

“What?” I try not to react too strongly. I don’t want them to think I’m hurting the family. That’s how Benny became the family’s black sheep.

“Your mother found out that if you sign the deed over to your father instead of your mother, we’ll be able to access the land and sell it for three times its worth,” my aunt Sophie adds.

Of course this is about the money.

“I see.” I pause, trying to decide where to go from here.

“Why are you dirty? Did you fall?” my mother asks, looking me over.

Usually, when I’m around them, I make sure there isn’t a hair out of place.

It’s something my mother instilled in me from a young age—you can never make a second first impression, so you must always look your best. I glance down and see dirt on my shin and the bottom of my skirt.

I must’ve picked it up getting into the cab.

“I was actually just at the orchard. I was curious about the land.” It’s not a complete lie.

“Perfect. What did you think? It shouldn’t take long to get everyone off the property. I think only five or six actually live on the land,” my mother says with a smile.

“I thought we weren’t going to evict anyone?” I frown.

“Well, it might be easier to sell if we didn’t have anyone living on it,” my uncle adds.

“I see,” I repeat. I don’t know how to get what I want without losing my parents’ respect in this moment.

“Would you like us to send you the lawyer’s number so you can set up a meeting? I know you’re headed back to the city tomorrow, but really, the quicker we resolve this, the better. Don’t you think?” my mother asks.

I look around the room at all the eyes on me and sigh.

I can’t let them down, but I’m not ready to give up on this either.

Aunt Blake left this for me for a reason—something I don’t fully understand yet.

But seeing it tonight only cements what I already know: I can’t let it fall into my family’s greedy hands.

“I actually was thinking about looking into the finances, doing some renovations before we sell,” I say quickly.

I’m talking out of my ass, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I think there’s quite a bit we could do beforehand and make more than what you said.

And we’d want to get the most for this place, right? ”

I’m laying it on thick, but that’s what works for my family.

“Hmm, that does make sense. It’s pretty run-down, from what I imagine. But we don’t want you spending too much to fix it up,” my mom says.

“Of course. I’ll budget everything. I just think it could be spruced up before we go for the hard sell,” I say.

I know I’m only buying myself some time, but it’s better than nothing right now.

“You’re right.” My mom smiles.

“It’s smart. Definitely better to sell as an established company than a fixer-upper,” my uncle adds.

I just nod as they start talking about timelines and specifics and everything else. All I know is that I will not be staying here after tonight. There’s no way I’m coming home and being ambushed by my family again. I’ll find somewhere else to stay, even if it’s just temporary.

I have to figure out a way to get the place back to its former glory.