Branching Out

Book 2: Meyers Orchard Novel

by Kerstin March

Genres: Family Life; Small Town & Rural; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Nestled along the shores of the beautiful Great Lakes, Meyers Orchard is where Shelby Meyers found unexpected love and strength—and now must forge a new life on her own terms… Marriage marks both a happy ending and a new chapter for Shelby Meyers. She and Ryan Chambers have overcome tremendous odds to stand together in her grandparents' orchard on the bluffs of Lake Superior, exchanging vows. Still, there are challenges old and new to contend with. Shelby struggles to find her niche among Ryan’s prominent Chicago family, while her own mother remains unreliable and unpredictable, impacting her life even from afar. Though Shelby’s love for Ryan is as deep-rooted as the orchard, her rocky upbringing makes her hesitant to start a family. Before she can reconcile those feelings, a personal tragedy throws Shelby’s confidence, and her marriage, into crisis. To move forward she’ll have to go back—to her Great Lakes hometown and her mother, and to secrets she could never have guessed at, as she resolves to branch out on her own…

Release date: December 1, 2015

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Shelby Meyers’s ivory dress brushed along the barn floor and collected a powdering of dust along its delicate hem. She leaned against the wide, open doorway and peered out upon her grandparents’ orchard. An intimate gathering of friends and family were finding their seats amidst the rows of white garden chairs on the lawn that faced an arbor and acres of blooming apple trees. Blush-white petals fell like snowflakes in the breeze and scattered on the grass and softened the palpable tension that existed between the two families.

Shelby felt the gentle touch of her grandmother’s hand upon her shoulder, nudging her away from the doorway. “Come on now. Haven’t I told you it’s bad luck to see the groom before your wedding?”

“You know that’s just an old superstition, don’t you?” Shelby said. Nonetheless, she stepped back and absentmindedly began rubbing the thumb of her right hand over the delicate band of her engagement ring, which held a brilliant round center stone that was surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds.

“The wedding hasn’t even started and already this day is more beautiful than anything I could have imagined,” Ginny Meyers said. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. Don’t forget to slow down, breathe. Take it all in. This will be a moment to remember for the rest of your life.”

Shelby smiled at her grandmother, proud to have such a strong, lovely woman at her side. Thanks to the generosity of her fiancé, Ryan Chambers, her grandmother was wearing pearls and a Parisian dress made of silver-gray raw silk that had been perfectly tailored to fit her petite frame. But then, Shelby had always considered her an elegant lady, even with pastry flour on her cheek and striped socks peeking out from beneath the cuffs of her jeans.

“I just can’t get over it. This old barn cleans up pretty well,” Ginny said. “Everything looks incredible. Lord knows that Charlotte went over the top, but I’ll be the first to admit that you and Ryan deserve it all, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Gran. I can’t believe today’s the day.” she said, overjoyed to be marrying Ryan in the place she loved most.

Her family’s orchard, which sat atop the bluffs of Bayfield, Wisconsin, had been transformed into something magical. Ryan’s mother, Charlotte, had orchestrated most of the wedding planning from her high-rise apartment in Chicago. While some brides may have felt that Charlotte was overstepping her bounds, Shelby was relieved to surrender the details to her. Since moving to Chicago the previous summer, she had been immersed in setting up her first apartment, returning to college to complete her degree, acclimating to Ryan’s public lifestyle, and then graduating one week before the wedding. The last thing she wanted to take on was planning an elaborate wedding. In fact, Shelby would have been happy with a church basement wedding and a backyard barbeque. So when Charlotte offered to help, Shelby readily agreed and had very few requests—mainly, that they marry at Meyers Orchard.

Charlotte’s creation was magical. She had planned a dazzling reception that was the perfect blend of uptown elegance and hometown charm. The barn, a weathered building that had neither the stature nor the sophistication to host an elegant reception, was now “dressed” for the occasion. Its faded exterior had been sanded and freshly painted red, the farming equipment and empty apple crates had been neatly stowed away, and the cobwebbed corners and dusty surfaces had been swept away. With the transformation complete, the barn looked dazzling with suspended chandeliers, strands of white lights, and oversized jars of flowers placed on tables dressed in linens.

“I didn’t see Ryan outside. Have you seen him?” Shelby asked her grandmother.

“Of course.”

“How is he? Does he seem nervous?”

“Not in the least. I’d say the only thing that man cares about right now is hearing you say, ‘I do.’”

In addition to orchestrating the reception, Ryan and his family had been careful to keep this day from becoming a media spectacle. For now, it appeared they had been successful. Shelby offered a silent prayer that everything would go as planned.

Ginny adjusted a delicate spray of blossoms that were tucked into the tumble of loose braids and curls swept back at the nape of Shelby’s neck. “As I was saying, I’ve never seen a more handsome groom.”

Her grandmother appeared so calm. It was as if she knew something that Shelby didn’t. Shelby had always believed that her grandparents were her greatest joy—her solid foundation—and after her grandfather passed away, Shelby didn’t know how their family would move forward. But they had. The farm was doing well. Her mother, Jackie, although still outrageously inappropriate and slow to accomplish anything resembling real work, was at least trying to make up for lost time. And Shelby had found the strength to leave the security of her hometown for a chance at love.

On her wedding day, Shelby realized that her greatest gift wasn’t family. It was having the courage to walk away from what was safe in order for her heart to grow. Loving Ryan, and accepting his proposal to share a life, freed her from her inner worries and opened up a new world. With newfound confidence, Shelby felt the strength to overcome the insecurities and fears that had been holding her back.

Although Shelby wasn’t one to seek the center of attention, this time she welcomed the opportunity to express her love for this man to all those who were gathered on the lawn. She knew she wouldn’t falter.

“Are you ready?” Ginny asked.

“You know me,” Shelby said, looking up at the array of lights that draped down from the rafters. “This is all so beautiful, but I would have been just as happy to marry Ryan out here in the barn, without all of the fanfare. Something simple, with just you and his parents.”

“And Jackie . . . of course you’d include Jackie.”

Shelby’s twisted smile said it all. After years of being a negligent parent, Jackie had been making an effort to repair their relationship since Olen’s death. She had also proven to be somewhat helpful to Ginny since moving back to the farm, which Shelby appreciated.

“Speaking of—shouldn’t she be here by now?” Shelby asked. The sound of low chatter on the lawn was replaced by the serene music of a string quartet. The wedding would start shortly, and she hadn’t seen her mother since the women were getting dressed inside the house. In fact, she hadn’t seen her maid of honor, either. “I’ve lost track of Nic, too.”

“I’m sure they’ll come along soon. . . .” Ginny pressed her eyebrows together with concern as she looked over Shelby’s shoulder.

Just as Shelby was about to suggest they send someone to check the house, she heard sounds coming from the far end of the barn.

Shelby looked up to see Nic, with her usually rumpled pixie-cut platinum hair combed sleek and adorned with a sprig of flowers tucked behind one ear. She held the skirt of her bridesmaid dress in her hands and raised the hem above her shoes as she rushed into the barn. The high-heeled sandals, which Nic despised but wore out of loyalty, were an obvious encumbrance as she ran awkwardly toward the two women. Shelby would have laughed at the sight of her best friend dressed like a lady and running in a lopsided trot if it weren’t for the distinct look of concern on her face.

“Just in time!” Shelby called out.

Shelby had missed Nic while living in Chicago. After growing up together and sharing everything, they both eventually decided to move away. First, Shelby left Bayfield to join Ryan in Chicago. Not long afterward, Nicole “Nic” Simone had married Hank Palmer and celebrated in a church basement potluck reception before moving to the Twin Cities. Although the two did their best to stay in touch, Shelby still wondered if she’d ever know Mrs. Palmer as well as she’d known the feisty Miss Simone.

“Is she here?” Nic asked Ginny.

Ginny shook her head.

“Everything’s good,” Nic forced a smile for Shelby’s benefit and then hurried across to the opposite side of the barn, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t start the wedding without me—this will just take a minute!”

“What’s going on?” Shelby asked.

“Everything is fine,” Ginny said, patting Shelby’s back. “It’s all under control.”

“The look on your face says otherwise. Come on, what is it?” Shelby insisted.

Ginny hesitated with a heavy sigh, then answered outright, “Jackie’s missing.”

“What do you mean, missing? She was in the house less than an hour ago.”

“We seemed to have lost track of her. Nic’s probably heading back to the house; I think Hank is checking outside.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Ginny kept her voice calm and reassuring. “Don’t give it another thought. She’s bound to turn up sooner or later—you and I both know she’s not about to miss out on her opportunity to put on a show.”

Shelby’s mother had been a college student living in California and pursuing a so-called better life than what she imagined on the family’s small-town farm on Lake Superior’s South Shore. Jackie didn’t have the time or interest in raising a child who was the result of one reckless summer night.

“Look at the two of us. These dresses really were much too expensive; Ryan shouldn’t have,” Ginny said, admiring the intricately beaded bodice of Shelby’s gown and smoothing out the ethereal layers of its skirt. They both knew the dress didn’t need adjusting. Ginny was killing time. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen a lovelier bride.”

As Shelby looked into her grandmother’s eyes, the things Shelby had intended to say to her on this wedding day, the words that had been running through her head when she tried to sleep over the past several days, the expressions that never seemed equal to the gratefulness she felt in her heart—the words, all disappeared. Ginny gently ran her thumb across Shelby’s clasped hand, a gesture that always soothed her worries while growing up, causing her emotions to build. All of the words . . . the thoughts, memories, and gratitude tumbled out in a few simple words.

“I love you, Gran.”

Ginny grasped Shelby’s hands tighter and raised them to her lips, kissing them and holding them close to her, as if they were joined together in prayer. “I love you, too, and I’ve never been prouder of you than I am today.”

Shelby let go of her grandmother’s hands and pulled her small but strong frame into a hug. “Thanks for walking down the aisle with me. There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Ginny said with a catch in her voice. “Your grandfather would have loved to see this day.”

“I miss him.”

“Me too, honey.” Ginny raised her fingers to the corners of her eyes to snub out any tears. “Me too.” After a moment, she took a deep breath and stepped out of their embrace, stood tall, and gave a quick pat to her cheeks. “Now, after you get married, don’t forget what I told you—whenever you miss him. . . .”

“Look for the signs.” Shelby nodded. She had noticed them many times since his death—discovering fishing bobbers in places where she’d never expect them, and a lone seagull that occasionally landed atop the barn’s roof and slowly walked around the copper weathervane while calling out to her below.

“Come on, now, if we start crying you’re going to make me smudge all of this makeup. And considering I only put on lipstick for weddings and funerals, I’d like to keep it on for more than an hour. Now, speaking of your grandfather, I have something for you.” Ginny discretely reached down the front of her dress and pulled a white tissue from the confines of her brassiere.

Shelby threw up her hands. “Thanks, but I don’t need that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ginny carefully unwrapped the tissue and withdrew a turquoise pendant that dangled from the end of a delicate silver chain.

Something blue. It had been a gift from Shelby’s grandfather, given to her when she was young. Even though he was no longer with them, in some small way he would still be a part of her wedding. It was the very thing she needed to put one foot in front of the next and walk into the next phase of her life. It was her time. She was branching out.

“You’ve worn this necklace every day for more years than I can count,” Ginny said. Shelby lifted her hair off of her shoulders as Ginny clasped the necklace around her neck. “So I thought it best that you wear it on your wedding day as well.” Her grandmother then wrapped her arms around Shelby and, just as she was about to kiss her on her cheek, Ginny flinched.

“For the love of Pete,” Ginny uttered under her breath.

Seeing Ginny’s eyes narrow and her lips press firmly together, Shelby pulled back. “What is it?” she asked, turning to look at whatever had grabbed her grandmother’s attention.

The mother of the bride was walking out of a horse stall in the darkened back corner of the barn, adjusting the skirt of her smoky lavender dress with one hand and smoothing out her disheveled hairdo with the other.

“Stay here, Shel,” Ginny said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to have a little chat with your mother, to let her know that the service is about to begin.”

Not one to be deterred, Shelby lifted the hem of her dress above her shoes and followed her grandmother’s lead. “I’m right behind you!”

Once they reached Jackie, Ginny took a firm hold of her elbow. As if an afterthought, she looked around to make sure they were alone, and then returned her attention to her daughter.

“What on earth is going on here?” Ginny said between clenched teeth. “Where have you been?”

Jackie jerked her arm out of Ginny’s grasp. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mother.”

“Have you seen yourself? Your skin is blotchy, your hair is a mess, and . . .” Ginny leaned in for a better inspection. “Would you mind telling me how you managed to get lipstick on your ear?” She licked her thumb and reached up to clean the lipstick smudge as if she were removing smeared chocolate from a child’s face. Jackie brushed away Ginny’s hand and rubbed the makeup off herself.

“Where is he?” Shelby asked the obvious. She was a fool to think that today, for once in Shelby’s life, Jackie would behave like a mother. Although Jackie didn’t have the time or interest in raising Shelby, Ginny and Olen assumed parental roles without hesitation and with full hearts.

“The music’s playing out on the lawn—isn’t that our cue?” Jackie said, bypassing Ginny and Shelby as she took steps toward the open barn doors. But she wasn’t fast enough. Shelby heard a something move within the horse stall. Like a rat venturing out of its hole in the wall, a strange man emerged from the stall. Shelby didn’t recognize him, and judging from the look on Ginny’s face, she hadn’t, either. He had a ruddy complexion, a short crop of hair around a bald crown, and a spotty beard that covered the soft contour of his jawline. He was dressed in a summer suit and a spring green tie, which would have been fitting for the wedding if it weren’t for the inch of shirt material that stuck out of his half-zipped trousers like a chick peeking out of its nest.

“You’re incredible,” Shelby said, shaking her head at her mother, who had stopped and turned when she heard the man’s footsteps. Shelby couldn’t decide who had more audacity, the stranger who walked straight up to them with a smile and an outstretched hand or Jackie for bringing him in the first place.

Before anyone said a word, Nic raced in through the open doors and didn’t stop until she reached the group.

“So,” Nic said, catching her breath. “I see you found your mom.”

“Hello, Mrs. Meyers, good to see you again,” the man said to Ginny, who refused to shake his extended hand and instead stared at him with skepticism.

“Again?” Ginny asked.

“Again?!” Nic echoed.

Shelby gave her friend a subtle nudge and Nic dropped her hands from Shelby’s and Ginny’s shoulders.

“Mother, you remember Chad . . .” Jackie said.

“Covington,” he said, finishing her introduction. “Chad Covington. We met years ago. I went to Ashland High School?”

“He was a year ahead of me,” Jackie added.

“I don’t remember,” Ginny replied flatly.

“Actually, we used to call him Stubbie,” Jackie said. “Don’t you remember? He played football for Ashland and he and his friends used to hang out with my group once in a while?”

Ginny shook her head while Shelby looked on.

“Chad’s the one who helped Dad fix the flat on his truck that one summer, down at the marina, the year he had a broken arm,” Jackie continued. “I’m sure you remember that.”

Chad turned his ruddy face toward Shelby, bared his smoke-stained teeth in a debonair smile, and said simply, “Good to finally meet you, Shelby. I’m your father.”

“Holy crap . . .” Nic’s typically booming voice, coming from just behind Shelby’s ear, was barely a whisper.

“Jacqueline!” Ginny gasped, raising her hand to cover her mouth.

Shelby’s heart pounded against the confining bodice of her wedding dress. It wasn’t just the way her mother was going to humiliate her, again, and on her wedding day. It was knowing that, with Jackie as an inept role model—Shelby felt the guilt of not being honest with Ryan during their discussions about their future. About starting a family. Nothing her mother could do to harm her would ever create as much pain for Shelby as the fear that, one day, she might bring similar emotional pain to her own child. While Ryan became elated at the thought of raising a family with Shelby, she was reserved and apprehensive.

I should have been honest with him. My God, why wasn’t I honest with him? Shelby closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and listened for sounds that could calm her mind. The creak of the barn door as it gently swung inward when caught by a light breeze. The flutter of wings in a nest tucked in the rafters overhead. Maybe I’ll feel differently once we’re married. Maybe I will be a good mother. I won’t be like her. I’m different.

Shelby opened her eyes and looked squarely into the cool blue eyes of her mother’s conquest and said, “Mr. Covington, if you’re my mother’s guest, you are welcome to stay. But as for this a. . .