Beneath the Apple Leaves(26)
The enormous belly appeared perfectly round and taut beneath the fabric of her dress. He met her eyes with questioning.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think it’s time.”
“If you need me to get Wilhelm, I can try to catch them before they get to town.”
“No need.” She chuckled with effort. “He’d think I’m a nervous woman.” A thin coating of sweat beaded her forehead. “It’s just the heat. I should know better than to overdo it. Just going to rest while there’s a breeze.”
The fine lace curtains, slightly yellowed from the sun, drifted back and forth, billowing into the room and then sucking back against the window frame. “I’m glad you’re here, Andrew,” she said deeply. “I know this can’t be easy for you. You’ve had a lot of change in a very short time. Wilhelm’s not pushing you too hard, is he?”
“No.” He stretched out his hand, then curled it. “Feels good to work. Keeps me from feeling sorry for myself,” he said wryly.
“Well, the boys adore you. In case you haven’t noticed.”
“Feeling’s mutual.” And he meant it, their cheery friendship a light in the dark.
She watched him carefully. “Been worrying about your mother, haven’t you?”
He nodded. “Should have heard from her by now.”
Eveline propped her pillow, straightened her back. “You’ll hear soon. War was slowing everything in Pittsburgh. Who knows how long we got to wait for news here.”
Andrew smiled at the woman, her belly huge and dominant over her slight figure. “You’re a lot like my mother, you know that? Except happier.”
“Carolien had a hard life. You both have.” She frowned with a memory. “I was so angry after she ran off with your father. Seems like such a silly grudge now.” Her face twisted in regret before grinning. “She and Frederick couldn’t have raised a better son.”
He let the compliment settle warmly. Then inspected the slices of fruit in her lap and winked. “That’s very sweet coming from someone who sucks on lemons.”
“Very funny.” She smacked him on the knee and laughed. “Out with you, now. Leave me in peace with my lemons.”
Outside, Andrew let the profound and saturated heat grab his clothing and roast his crown. He bent his head back and closed his eyes against the brilliancy of sun. When he opened his eyes again, the sky spotted and morphed turquoise against the green leaves of the trees. He took in the full expanse of the property. The rounded hills and gentle valleys of the inert fields; the creek that snaked between clumps of stringy cattails; the rust-colored barn that bowed slightly at the base as if sitting on its haunches.
From the side of the house, the old garden reposed in rotting splendor, the tangled weeds and ancient vegetables overgrown, but the patch was big enough to feed two families. Come spring, they’d fix the beds and plant and till. They’d edge and discipline the pricker bushes and have enough fresh berries for jam in every flavor.
A branch cracked from high in the great apple tree. Several apples dropped and bounced against the hard ground. Andrew walked over to the tree and peered into the dense branches, caught sight of a dress and a woman’s legs as they climbed down.
Seeing more than was proper, he turned away quickly, his face reddening before the shock of the trespasser took hold. Andrew turned back to the tree, stuffed his hand into his front pocket and waited.
The sound of torn fabric came from the leaves. “Ouch!” The boughs jostled as if a bear wrestled the trunk. Angry cursing muffled between the cracking sticks.
Andrew raised one eyebrow. “Need some help?” he called out.
The apple tree turned as still and silent as stone.
He inched closer and grinned. “Know you’re up there, by the way.”
Still the great tree did not waver.
Andrew scratched his head, thoroughly perplexed and amused. “I guess I’m going to have to come up there then.”
Suddenly, an apple whizzed past his head. “Hey!” he shouted as he ducked another and then another. In the midst of the onslaught, a young woman jumped to the ground, her arms full of apples, her hand readied in the air with her round, red weapon.
“Who are you?” she shouted.
Andrew’s mouth fell open. “Who am I?”
She squeezed the apple, pulled back her arm in preparation. “I said who are you?”
He took a bold step forward and she launched the apple, which he caught easily in his right hand, taking her off guard. “Considering this is my property,” he said sternly, “how about you tell me who you are?”
“You live here?” she spluttered before pouting and flustering. “Thought you all went to town. Didn’t think anyone would be here.” The young woman emptied the apples into a pile at the base of the tree. Her long hair fell over her collarbone and reached past her elbow. She wore a pair of men’s work boots and a pale green dress that was ripped at the shoulder. “I’ll just be on my way,” she said quickly as she ran atop the broken slate.
“Wait.” He hurried to catch up. “Your sleeve is ripped. Is your arm hurt?”
She turned her head, investigated the torn fabric and the red gash. “Just a scratch.”
“Think it’s worse than that.” Andrew stepped in front of her and her body tightened as if she might flee at any second. Gingerly, he touched the fabric, felt her tense as it stuck to the line of blood below.