kid are over. I’ll lay you out if you grab me again.”
Dean grinned. “Go ahead and try, Sammy. Might be the best thing for you to get your stupid head knocked around.”
Josh intervened. “Knock if off, both of you. Ma sees either of you with black eyes she’s going to give us all matching ones. Listen, Sam, we’re your brothers…we just don’t want to see you make a mistake you can’t take back.”
Sammy shrugged off Dean’s grip and bent down to grab another cement bag. He hefted it with a grunt. “Don’t worry about me. You’ve got your own lives to worry about. Wives…babies…surely that’s enough to keep you out of my business.”
“It would be if you’d stop tomcatting around every honky-tonk bar from here to Coldwater. What’s gotten into you?” Dean asked, the disgust in his tone mirroring what Sammy had heard in Aubrey’s voice last night.
A pang of anguish reminding him just how screwed up he was made him grin like a jackal as he answered, “I’m grieving. Can’t you tell?”
Dean’s face darkened and Sammy knew he’d gone too far. He half hoped Dean would lay him out. He certainly deserved it. “You sure as hell don’t look like you’re grieving to me. How do you think it makes Annabelle feel to hear around town about all the women you’re nailing like the end of the world is around the corner when her best friend—your supposed beloved wife—died just six months ago? It’s killing her! The other day she burst into tears because of some story she heard about you and some former coworker of Dana’s getting it on outside the bar, in the damned alley! What is wrong with you!”
“Tell your wife to mind her own business,” Sammy said and turned to walk away.
And that was the final straw. But it wasn’t Dean who threw the punch.
It was Josh.
Sammy hit the ground and went into blissful oblivion.
AUBREY BUNDLED IAN UP AGAINST the chill so the boy could have some outside play time before it got too cold to enjoy the fall season. Walking the perimeter of the property, she drew a deep breath of the crisp air and smiled at the rustic beauty of the area, such a stark contrast from where she grew up. Here there were rolling hills of trees and brush, not a manicured lawn in sight, but it took her breath away. So gorgeous. She could imagine Ian running free, weaving in and out of the trees, playing cops and robbers, jumping in mud puddles, and ending the day covered head to toe in dirt. A warm smile followed. How awesome. Then she sighed. “Perhaps if fate hadn’t been so cruel as to take your mama and leave you with that self-absorbed man you know as your father, I’d say you were a lucky boy. But sometimes fate is cruel, sweet baby. That is something you may very well learn when you get older,” she murmured to Ian, whose cheeks had pinked to a rosy hue and his delighted smile seemed to say that he agreed with her. Impulsively, she bent down and pressed a quick kiss on his crown. Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, a voice warned inside her head, but she immediately pushed it aside, even though the advice was sound. But babies need love and affection, she protested. It wasn’t like the boy’s father was going to provide it. She rounded the back side of the house and gasped with pleasure when she saw the young apple tree, bursting with fresh apples, some of which had dropped to the ground to rot.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had an apple tree growing in your backyard?” she asked Ian playfully as he watched her with happy eyes. “I’ll bet your mom planted this tree when she and your dad got married.”
She moved closer and noted the variety of the tree was written on a small tag. “A self-pollinating Gala,” she read. She didn’t know much about apple trees but she was open to learning. Somehow she knew keeping this tree alive and blooming for the future would’ve been important to Dana. Plucking an apple, she took an exploratory bite. Juice dribbled down her chin and the crisp flavor was like manna from heaven. “Ohh, this is good,” she said. Then looked again to Ian, an idea forming in her mind. “I’ll bet your mom has a basket or a bucket we can find that she used to pick these apples. Let’s find it.”
Just as she figured, Aubrey was able to find a large basket in the laundry room, tucked into the far reaches of the cabinet above the washing machine. She brushed it out, then she and Ian headed back outside to ease the burden of that beautiful apple tree.
SAMMY WAS STILL IN A PISSY mood when he got home, in spite of stopping by the bar first for a beer. His jaw ached where Josh had clocked him and a bruise was beginning to shadow the stubble on his chin. He wasn’t sure which was worse—the fact that he’d deserved that punch or the low to which he’d sunk in his mind. It was as if he was in a downward spiral he couldn’t do anything to stop and everyone around him was trying to help but he was gunning for that fateful moment when he went splat against the concrete. If Dana were here she’d no doubt tell him to quit feeling sorry for himself. A sad smile lifted his mouth, but only for a moment. He couldn’t think of Dana. Maybe if Ian didn’t look so much like her….
He opened the door and was hit with the savory aroma of something he hadn’t smelled in a long time. Apple pie.
Entering the kitchen, the smell triggered a memory that nearly sent him to his knees. He slowed, let his eyes close and sank into the past.
Suddenly, it was September of last year, and Sammy had come home to that same tantalizing aroma.
“Damn, girl, what is that amazing smell?” he’d said, whipping his ball cap off and tossing it to the hat stand by the door. He saw Dana in the kitchen, pregnant, flour in her hair, the room looking as if a bomb had gone off, there was sweat dampening her forehead and one perfect apple pie cooling on the counter. He’d never been so conflicted by his desire to eat pie and make love to his wife. In the end, he did both. Right there on the kitchen floor.
“I thought you might like a pie made from our very own apple tree,” she’d said huskily, her voice retaining the warmth created by their lovemaking. She propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him as he lay on his back recuperating. “I had no idea pie has this kind of effect on you,” she teased, her brown hair falling forward to tickle his face.
“You have this kind of effect on me,” he murmured, pulling her down to his mouth, savoring everything about his wife. “But I do love pie,” he added playfully.
“I love you,” she said softly.
The echo of Dana’s whispered sentiment brought him crashing back to the present, and he found Aubrey staring at him, an uncertain expression on her face.
“What are you doing?” he asked in a strangled tone.
“I…took Ian for a walk and discovered the apple tree…and they were just dropping on the ground,” she said, faltering. “I didn’t think you would mind if I put them to good use.”
“Well, I do mind,” he said, shaking with pain. He had a vision of grabbing the ax and chopping the damn tree down so he never had to deal with this happening ever again. But then he noticed that she’d been very busy while he’d been at work. Not only had she baked a pie but she’d made applesauce for Ian and that’s what she’d been doing when he walked in, putting the sauce into small containers for later use. He choked down the angry words that bubbled to the surface as he remembered Dana talking about how she’d hoped to do that very thing for their child. She’d been so excited to be a mother, she wanted nothing but the best for the baby—and apparently the best had included homemade applesauce.
Aubrey stiffened and her mouth tightened as she offered a terse apology. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about letting the apples go to waste. I won’t do it again,” she said.
“Forget it,” he bit out, hating the gruff quality of his voice. “I…” He tried to apologize but he couldn’t get the words out. Instead, he just turned on his heel and headed to the shower. She was his employee. He didn’t owe her explanations.
TEARS STUNG AUBREY’S EYES but she managed to hold them back until Sammy stalked from the room. It was ridiculous, she thought, wiping at her