Robyn Carr - Sunrise Point

Nora wouldn’t trade her children for anything, not even for an easier life leading up to their births, but if she weren’t a single mother constantly worried about money, this job outdoors in the beauty of a northern California Indian summer would seem like a gift. It was September and the afternoons were still warm.

A couple of days into her second week, when she arrived at the juncture of the road from Virgin River and Highway 36, there sat a big white truck. And outside the cab, leaning against the driver’s door, was Mr. Tom Cavanaugh. His long legs were casually crossed in front of him and he was looking down; he appeared to be cleaning his nails with a pocketknife.

She looked at him for a moment. Appreciated him. It seemed such a distant memory when she’d gotten mixed up with Chad. Chad had seemed like such a catch, slated for the big time. Now, looking at Tom, she saw stability and success, not to mention power and beauty. Yes, he was a very beautiful man. And she wondered what it must feel like to be the kind of girl someone like him would want.

She shook it off. Then she put her head down and walked on by.

“Hey,” he called.

She turned back. She tried a small smile. “’Morning,” she said.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To work,” she said.

“Well, jump in. I’ll give you a lift. Why do you think I’m here?” he asked.

“I have absolutely no idea. I don’t need a ride. I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

“I know, Nora. Humor me.”

“I don’t think it looks good,” she said. “Getting a ride with the boss. What will the others think?”

“There are no others yet,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re always the first one to get to the orchard. Come on. No strings.”

She thought about it for just a second, but there was really no way to refuse a kindness. Or whatever this was. She walked around the front and got in the passenger seat.

“How are the muscles and blisters?” Tom asked.

“Excellent,” she said, surprise lacing her response. “Nothing hurts. I’m keeping the protection on my hands and, as you can see, wearing the latex gloves, but I can’t believe how quickly I healed up. You should consider one of those late-night infomercials. Your magic goo and ginsu knives.”

He laughed at her. “Find yourself watching a lot of late-night TV, do you?”

“A long time ago,” she said. “I haven’t had a TV since before my children were born.”

“Ah, one of those fussy mothers—no TV to poison the little minds?”

“Not so virtuous. I can’t afford a TV—that’s a luxury way beyond me. But who can forget ginsu knives? I used to love those demonstrations. It wouldn’t have surprised me if fingers went flying. But who knows—maybe they did and the icky stuff was cut. No pun intended,” she added with a laugh.

He stared straight ahead as he drove for a few moments. Then he turned down the long drive into the orchard. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Nora. I’m going to wait for you where the road from town meets 36 and give you a lift. And I’ll drop you off there after work.”

“I told you, I don’t mind—”

“I know, you don’t mind walking. I give you a lot of credit for that—you have gumption. But I’d like you to reserve your energy for work. And it’s not one hundred percent safe out here at dawn and dusk. I’m not saying it’s dangerous, but there are wildlife issues.”

“I can run,” she said. “Seriously, I’m fast.”

He glanced over at her. “Seriously, you never want to try that. The only wildlife you can outrun is a turkey. Bobcats, mountain lions, bear—that’s just what they’re looking for—running marks you as prey and they’re way faster than you could dream of being. If you come across one of them, back away slowly, making some kind of noise. Bark like a seal or something. Clap your hands. And pray.” He took a breath. “I’m more than happy to give you a lift.”

She sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she said. “But I’m not sure it’s such a good idea for your other employees to think I’m getting special treatment.”

“It’s Tom,” he said on a laugh. “Just Tom. If the idea doesn’t sit with you, we can see if Buddy will drive you after work—he shows up sometimes after school for a couple of hours.”

“Like I said, we probably shouldn’t encourage Buddy… .”

“You just tell him—you’re twenty-three. And if he thinks about a date with an older woman, maybe say you’re not over your ex-husband or something.”

“But that would be a lie,” she said.

He smiled. It was unmistakable—he smiled. “Well, then, you are over him.”

“There is no ex-husband.”

He shot her a look. “You’re married?”

She shook her head.

“Widowed? Already? At your young age?”

“Never married. Mr. Cavanaugh.” She took a steadying breath—he clearly wanted to know. “I have two children, have never had a husband, my boyfriend ran out on me and he is now in jail for assault and felony possession and I am on my own. He will not be allowed near my children again. I don’t use or deal, I’m trying to get it together for my girls and myself. And I won’t lie to anyone.”

The big white truck actually slowed a little bit while he absorbed this. Then Tom accelerated again, getting back up to speed. “Then just tell Buddy you’re twenty-three and a single mother. That should do it.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I’m sure,” she said softly. Of course that would discourage him. It would send any man running for his life.

“I’m going to ask him to take you to the turnoff after work and I’ll meet you there before work. A mile or so walk each way is more than enough for anyone and I don’t feel like having an employee mauled by a puma or bear. I’ve had to repair our fence a couple of times and while I haven’t seen any, I suspect bears. They’re usually shy and avoid people, but let’s just play it safe.”

She stared at his profile for a moment. “Mr. Cavanaugh, I don’t want to be pitied and I don’t need special treatment. I’m more than happy to do whatever it takes to work a job that pays well. I appreciate the gesture, I absolutely do, but—”

“Do you feel like fighting off a bear? Because a man was mauled not far from here. And you do have a family to think about.”

“Mr.—”

“Tom!” he barked. “It’s just Tom. The subject is closed.”

He pulled up to the barn that held his office, turned off the truck and got out, leaving her sitting there.

She wasn’t sure what it was about her that made him so angry. Alternately angry or kind or amused, that was more accurate. She tried to show him respect; she was honest with him even though it wasn’t easy.

She watched him tromp up the steps and across the porch, into the house. Stubborn. And just as quickly he was out the back door and walking toward his office. He stopped by his truck and peered in the open driver’s window at her. “Maxie said to tell you to come in for a cup of coffee with her.”

“Oh. I wouldn’t want to impose… .”

“She invited you, therefore it’s not an imposition.”

“But I don’t want to—”

“Nora! For God’s sake, don’t make everything so much harder than it needs to be! Just go have a cup of coffee with my grandmother.”

“Should I make your coffee first?” she asked.

“I’ll make it. I know how to make coffee.”

A smile tickled her lips. “Ah. I didn’t realize that.”

And he scowled at her.

She shook her head and couldn’t help it, she had to hold in a laugh. This man, who had no reason at all to be so ornery, was certainly a piece of work. As she walked across the wide yard, up the back steps and onto the porch, she found herself thinking that if she lived with this bounty, she would never have a cross day.