Page 74 of The Apple Cider Orchard

Our Molly. The simple phrase carried weight that settled into Jack’s chest like stone – faintly connecting them all through ties of blood and history he still couldn’t quite comprehend.

Jack moved then, and something in his step alerted Molly to his presence. She turned, her face registering surprise that quickly shifted to wariness. The expression struck him like a physical blow, a reminder of how thoroughly he’d destroyed her trust with his accusations that morning.

‘Jack,’ she said, her voice carefully neutral despite the emotion that flickered in her eyes. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘I came to find Patrick,’ he mumbled, moving closer but stopping with enough distance between them that she wouldn’t feel crowded. ‘Brid said he needed a lift home.’

‘He’s just gone inside.’ Molly gestured toward the hotel.

The silence between them stretched, laden with unspoken words.

He took a deep breath, letting the garden’s scents fill his lungs – roses and damp earth, the faint sweetness of lavender from the border plants. Somewhere a night bird called, its voice carrying over the stone walls, a single perfect note that hung in the air between them.

‘I heard everything,’ he said finally, his voice low and steady despite the hammering of his heart against his ribs. ‘About your grandmother. About Patrick. About why you really came to Golden Valley.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘You were eavesdropping?’

‘Not intentionally.’ He held her gaze, refusing to look away despite the shame that heated his neck. ‘I came through the side entrance to collect Patrick and … overheard your conversation.’

Her shoulders stiffened, arms crossing protectively over her chest. ‘So now you know.’

‘Now I know,’ he agreed quietly, taking another step closer. The copper lamp nearest them caught the gold flecks in her eyes, turning them luminous in the soft light. ‘And I need to apologize, Molly. I’ve been wrong about everything since the day you arrived.’

‘You don’t have to—’

‘I do.’ He interrupted gently but firmly. ‘I accused you of the worst possible motives at every turn. Refused to listen this morning when you tried to explain.’ His voice roughened with emotion. ‘You were carrying out a promise to your grandmother, and I treated you like a corporate spy.’

The wariness in her expression began to soften, something cautious but hopeful taking its place. ‘You couldn’t have known.’

‘I could have trusted you,’ he countered. ‘Could have given you the benefit of doubt instead of assuming the worst.’ His hands unclenched at his sides, a conscious effort to release the tension that had gripped him since he’d arrived. ‘I’ve spent so long defending Goldenridge against outside interests that I stopped seeing people clearly. Started categorizing everyone as either threat or ally, with nothing in between.’

Molly’s arms slowly uncrossed, her posture relaxing slightly. ‘It’s understandable. Your livelihood is at stake.’

‘That’s no excuse for how I treated you.’ Jack moved closer still, close enough now that he could detect the subtle scent of her perfume beneath the garden’s heavier fragrances. ‘Especially when the truth is, I’ve been falling for you since that first morning in the rain.’

Her breath caught audibly, eyes widening at his confession.

‘Even when I was being my most stubborn, most suspicious self,’ he continued, the words coming easier now that he’d begun, ‘something about you kept breaking through. The way you looked at the orchard – really looked at it, seeing what makes it special. The questions you asked that went beyond the surface. How you cared about the old ways, the traditions.’

‘I did care,’ she said softly. ‘I do.’

‘I know that now.’ Jack’s voice dropped lower, meant only for her despite there being no one else in the garden. ‘I’ve seen the video, Molly.’

‘You’ve – what?’ Confusion flickered across her face.

‘The online video. With Hearthland’s song. My phone hasn’t stopped buzzing all evening.’

Understanding dawned in her expression. ‘Oh, I – I wasn’t sure whether you would.’

‘It’s … beautiful,’ he said simply. ‘What you captured about the orchard, about Golden Valley … it’s everything I’ve never been able to put into words. You cut straight to the heart of it all.’

A flush of pleasure colored her cheeks. ‘I just shared what I saw.’

‘That’s just it,’ he said, taking the final step that brought them face to face, close enough that he could see the subtle constellation of freckles across her nose. ‘You saw what matters. You get me, Molly Harris, in ways no one else ever has. But now, by God, I need to get you too.’

Jack reached for her, one hand gently cradling her cheek while the other found the small of her back. Her skin was cool beneath his palm, but her eyes held a warmth that drew him in, permission and invitation clear in their depths.

The first touch of his lips against hers was tentative, a question rather than a declaration. Molly’s hands came up to rest against his chest, neither pushing away nor pulling closer, simply anchoring herself as they navigated this new territory together.