CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sanna heard someone come up the steps and braced herself for another confrontation. At least she knew it wouldn’t be her dad—he still couldn’t make it up the spiral stairs with his crutches. She had intentionally come up here because she knew it was difficult for him to walk up the stairs.
“Sanna?”
It was Bass.
“What’s up, bud?”
“You okay?”
She gave a little chuckle that he was checking on her. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“I’ll be fine.” She wrapped her arm around him and gave him a little hug. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“Dad always says that when a lady says she is fine, she’s really just angry at you that you don’t know the real reason she’s angry.”
Sanna snorted at that. It was always interesting to hear what Bass gleaned from listening to the adults.
“Your dad said that? He’s not too wrong. But in this case, I didn’t say I was fine. I said I’ll be fine. There’s a difference—do you see it?”
Bass nodded and looked up at Sanna.
“Is the orchard really in trouble?”
Sanna shifted so she could look at his face while they spoke.
“It is. My dad borrowed a lot of money from the bank, and we don’t have enough cash to make the monthly payments. Haven’t had enough for a few months now. To get the money, we promised we would make the payments on time and if we don’t, then they could take the orchard. We don’t have enough money to make those payments right now, so unless we get some fast, the bank will take it.”
“That sucks big hairy balls.”
Sanna gave him a look. He was too young to be talking like that—at least around adults.
“Okay, it just sucks.”
She nodded at the improved language. “It really does.”
“Our dads really screwed up, didn’t they?”
“They didn’t think we were tough enough, I guess.”
Bass put his finger to his lips like he was holding his words in until they were ready to come out.
“Maybe you should let your mom help.”
“I’m not sure I can do that.”
“But she’s still there and wants to help. Even though my mom chose drugs over getting better, I still wish I could see her again—and I don’t ever get to do that again. Maybe it’s different when you’re old, but that’s how I feel.”
Sanna brushed a curl off his face, astounded at how right he was. He wasn’t complicated by years of hurt feelings and a scarred heart.
“First, your mom was sick. She didn’t choose drugs over getting better. She was sick and she couldn’t fight it any longer. Second, it’s not any different when you’re grown up.” She propped her feet on the coffee table and leaned into the squashy cushions. “Do you think we need to go back down?”
“Nah—let them finish the work.”
“Good idea.”
They looked out the window at the orchard. On the far right an unusual movement caught her eye. She scanned to find it in the Looms, not spotting it right away. Something was wonky with the Dancing Tree—as she’d come to think of her favorite. Branches pointed up and wobbled, and they knocked into the branches on the tree next to it. She saw a figure in tan walking toward the back property line.
Without realizing it, she squeezed Bass’s hand as her heart stopped. What had happened?
“Ow.”
She let it go. She needed to get out there immediately.
“Sorry.”
She ran down the stairs, slipping on some clogs to race across the lot, and climbed into the ATV, praying the keys were in it. In the farm stand, the three men watched her as she revved the engine and tore through the orchard. She prayed she was wrong, prayed the stress and exhaustion of harvest season were messing with her vision. But as she pulled into the row, she knew. What should be a clear view to the property line was instead full of green, leafy branches crisscrossing at odd angles. The hollow feeling in her chest grew and grew as she approached her beloved tree. She stopped the ATV and walked slowly around the vertical branches that still wobbled in the breeze, unaware they would soon be dry and brittle.
She knelt on the ground next to the naked stump and ran her hands over the fresh cut revealing well over one hundred rings. Even with such a long life, it was too soon. Tears slid down her cheeks as the fresh, damp sawdust clung to her jeans. Who would do this to her beautiful tree? Could it have been Thad?
Sanna wasn’t sure how long she rubbed her hand over the newly sawn wood like a mother rubbing a sick child’s back, but the sun dipped to the horizon and the air chilled her bare arms. She’d rushed out of the house without a jacket. While she still didn’t understand how her mom could abandon her and Anders, losing this tree made it clear to Sanna that she would do anything to make sure she didn’t lose Idun’s. Happiness without her orchard would be impossible. With that knowledge, no compromise or sacrifice was too much to ask.
She gave the stump one last pat and stood, confident in what she needed to do next. Using the tree clippers in the vehicle, she collected a small mound of new-growth clippings, each about a foot long, adding more to a bucket until she couldn’t fit another stick. As she emerged from the wreckage, her foot clanked against something hard. She picked up the item and held it in her hand—it was one of the mason jars with fairy lights. Isaac must have missed it when he collected the others. Another reminder of what she couldn’t stand to lose.
• • • • •
When she returned to the house, she carried her bucket of sticks into the kitchen, where everyone, including Anders, had gathered around the TV to watch a baseball game. With a clatter, she dumped the sticks onto the table, then went into the kitchen for a box of gallon baggies.
“Sanna, what did you do?”
When she spoke, her voice scratched from all the spent tears.
“Someone chopped down the Dancing Tree.” Isaac met her eyes, and he looked as heartbroken as she felt.
“What’s the Dancing Tree?” Anders asked.
“It’s Sanna’s favorite tree,” Bass had answered for her. She gave him a wink as Isaac moved to pat his shoulder, but Bass stepped away. He still hadn’t completely forgiven his dad—that would take some time.
“The one you made your necklace from?” Einars asked. She nodded. “These are for grafting?” he said, referring to the sticks. “It hasn’t worked any other time we’ve tried.”
“It has to work this time. I’m going to start some as soon as I have new rootstock, I’ll save some in the barn, in the house. It has to work.” She stuffed handfuls into a baggie until it was full, then began another. Without a word, Isaac, then Bass, then Anders and Einars joined her.
As they filled the bags, Anders asked the question Sanna had been turning over in her mind. “Who would chop down one of the Looms?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Thad. Ever since I turned down his proposal, he’s changed. I think I saw him walking toward the border right after the tree came down. I don’t have real proof, but I definitely saw a figure in tan walking off the back of our property and onto the Rundstroms’.”
“I’ll talk to Sheriff Dibble,” Einars said.
Sanna nodded, her mind on her work.
“I spoke to Eva Drake aga—” Anders started.
“Really, Anders?” Sanna said.
“Let me finish. I promised I’d tell you even after I gave her a very firm no. She seemed a bit desperate, and I felt bad. But she did something that was interesting—she listened to what I said during the first meeting and reconfigured the plans to save most of the Looms. It was a clever idea. Anyway, I fulfilled my vow to pass that information on to you both.”
Sanna hadn’t expected that piece of information, but it gave her an idea, well, really a twinkle of an idea that she hadn’t caught, but might once it formed.
When they were done, they had fifteen full bags of potential scions. Fifteen bags of fresh starts, if only she could save Idun’s.
• • • • •
The next day started chaotic and fuzzy. Sanna had dreamed of waking to find all her trees broken on the ground. Even with the relief that it was just a nightmare washing over her, she couldn’t shake the off-kilter feeling as she walked to the barn for the start of the day, catching sight of something she never thought she’d see: when they opened the farm stand for the first day of business, customers were already waiting in the lot.
“Where did all these people come from?” she heard her dad ask Isaac.
“I checked the website last night. Your visitor count is up, and your site shows up in the first page of Google results when someone searches for Door County orchards.”
“All that fiddling you did, you did that?”
“It’s what I do.”
Sanna didn’t know how to feel. Grateful for the customers, irritated because she wasn’t ready to completely forgive her dad or Isaac, wanting to celebrate this tiny success with them. Sometimes it was difficult to let go.
“Can I help with the cash register?” Bass asked Einars.
“Sorry, Wahoo. You’re too little for that. They need a grown-up to handle the money,” Isaac answered before Einars could. “Can you go run and get Anders from the house? I think we’ll need all hands on deck from the looks of this crowd.” Bass scowled at his dad and stomped to the house.
As they opened the door to the waiting patrons, a brisk wind whipped Sanna’s hair. She checked the weather on her phone.
“Pa, let’s move the register back a little from the entry. It’s sunny now, but they’re saying we might have some bad storms late—we don’t want the register to get wet.” Isaac hurried forward to help her lift it, catching her eye and bringing a reluctant smile to her face.
The morning flew by in a blur, helping customers, selling over half of the apples they’d set out and even several six-packs of cider. Sanna had even forgotten about her felled tree until she wiped sweat off her face with the neck of her T-shirt and her hand brushed her necklace. The loss hit her again, reminding her she still needed to grab that twinkling idea from last night and see where it led her.
They needed to do some restocking, and she needed Bass’s help. She looked for his mop of curls in the stand but didn’t see them. Stepping into the sun of the parking lot and raising a hand to her forehead, she saw that he wasn’t there either. Einars and Isaac huddled around the laptop, talking website and social media. Now that Einars had seen how effective it was, he wanted to know more.
“Have either of you seen Bass?”
Einars shrugged and returned to studying the page, while Isaac stood up with his head on a swivel.
“He should be here, but it’s been a while since I heard him. Actually, I asked him to get Anders but neither of them ever came out and that was hours ago.” Isaac ran both hands through his loose waves and checked around the barn’s corner. “I’m going to look in the house.”
He’d probably gotten distracted in the house, or Anders had let him play on his iPad.
Sanna ran upstairs to the storage for more bags to fill with apples. When she came back down, Isaac’s face was pale.
“I can’t find him. He’s not in the house or out here. And I found this.”
He handed her the notebook she had given to Bass when they’d first arrived—opened.
Miss Lund told me about this awesome place where she and her brother used to jump into the bay. There was a huge cliff of rocks and you could jump right into the water, like flying. She said she’d take me sometime because you needed to be big enough to do it and she wanted to make sure I was a strong swimmer. I am.
“I told him just this morning he was too little to help with the cash register, remember? I have a feeling he’s gone there to prove he’s big enough.”
“But this was from weeks ago,” Sanna said.
“And he’s trying to prove something. How many times have I told him he’s too young? And he’s still mad at me.”
He paced outside the barn. If he went to the swim spot, he could be in real danger.
“Let’s get in the truck,” Sanna said. “This spot isn’t far, but we’ll get there faster by driving.” She paced to where Elliot was parked under the large oak tree near the house.
“I can go,” Isaac said. “You need to watch the stand.”
Sanna glared at him and continued to walk.
“Don’t be absurd. I love that boy, too, and I know exactly where we need to go. You’ll get there faster with me. Now, get in the truck.”
As he climbed in, she snatched the dragon keychain from the open ashtray, inserted the key, then gave Elliot a little rub—praying he would start. He leaped to life and they bumped out of the gravel parking lot onto the road in front of the orchard. Isaac held on to the door handle to keep from shaking like a bobblehead doll in an earthquake, as the truck hit every pothole and crack on the road.
“Tell me more about this place.”
“My brother and I used to go there when we were teens. It’s a cliff about ten feet high and you can jump into the bay. You have to know where the rocks are under the surface, but once you do, it’s pretty safe.”
“You told Bass you’d take him there?”
“Supervised. I wasn’t going to do it without your permission. I made it very clear you needed to be old enough.”
“Which is why he went there. Oh God, he’s going to hit a rock, and he’s only used to swimming in pools, not open water.”
“We’ll get there in time. He’ll be fine.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Seeing Isaac shaken when he’d always been strong and calm disconcerted her. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the sky, where a line of dark clouds pushed toward them like an alien invasion in a science fiction movie.
“How did he even know how to find it?”
“There’s a trail from the corner of the property that leads there. You just need to follow it.” Sanna thought back to the day they ate Oreos and caught fireflies. “I was remembering what it was like with my brother, how we’d run through the orchard after we’d finished our work.”
“How could you be so shortsighted? You can’t tell a ten-year-old boy about something cool and dangerous and expect him not to do it.”
“Don’t yell at me. I’m not the one who lied to my child and still hasn’t apologized properly to him. You need to make that right sooner rather than later.” She squeezed his hand, pouring as much comfort into it as she could, and being calmed in return by the contact. If something happened to Bass, she’d never forgive herself. “And I’m sorry for telling him about the swim spot.”
They stopped the truck at the end of the road. They’d have to go the rest of the way on foot. They both set off at a run, Sanna leading the way, letting stray branches whip their faces before they burst into the small clearing at the end of the trail. Above them, gulls rode the wind like a carnival ride, swooping and dipping on the invisible roller coaster from the approaching storm. Foamy whitecaps tipped the waves like strips of lace, playing a game of hide-and-seek as they came and went with the choppy surf. Sanna couldn’t tell the difference between the roar of the waves on the rocks below and the wind in the nearby trees. Lightning tore across the sky like a strobe light. Scanning the water, she spotted Bass’s head bobbing, then dipping below the waves. She knew from experience how brutal those waves could be on a calm day. It wouldn’t take long before he smashed into the bottom of the cliff.
“Where is he?” Isaac said.
Sanna had already kicked off her shoes and pulled down her jeans, tearing off her flannel shirt as she walked to the edge, leaving her in just her white T-shirt and underwear. Memory served her well as she jumped off the edge, knowing where the gap between the large underwater boulders made diving in safe. The water was deep enough that even she didn’t touch bottom when plunging down, so she used her long legs to slow her descent into the water and break the surface in a few quick upward strokes. Though it was still summer, the water had a bracing chill, especially with the vicious storm churning up the water from colder parts of the bay toward the cliffs. She spotted Bass’s head dip beneath the waves and swam to the spot, looping a long arm under his armpits and pulling his body to her. Large drops started to pock the surface of the already rough water as a larger wave went over both their heads. Sanna gulped for air and checked to make sure he was still conscious. His brown eyes were wide, then slammed shut as he coughed up water.
She turned her body so the waves would break over the back of her head.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe. If you can wrap your arms around my neck, that’ll make it easier for me to get us to shore. Can you do that?”
Bass nodded his head and used his arms to pull himself tight. He winced when his legs bumped against her.
Isaac stood at the brink of the cliff. He spotted her and started to kick off his shoes. Treading water with one arm, she pointed to her right. She needed him to find the path down—she couldn’t get Bass up the face of the rocks without his help from land, but her strength was fading fast in the rough waters. She aimed for the spot where she had pointed, where the limestone had created a natural slope they could use to get out of the water. As she moved closer to the rocky shore, the riptides started to pull at her. She focused on keeping both their heads above water. Thank goodness, Isaac had found the path to the stairs and scrambled toward them. Just a few more feet and they’d be there, but the waves kept pushing her toward the wall. She turned her body so it was between the rock and Bass. The largest wave yet crashed into them, smashing her into the wall, and whooshing the breath out of her—she barely had enough time to tense her body for the impact. In the break between waves, she used the slimy wall to push her and Bass toward his waiting dad.
In an instant, Isaac pulled Bass from the water and he was safe in his father’s arms. Isaac looked at Sanna, and she waved him on to the safety of the cliff top, grateful to be rid of Bass’s weight. Another wave battered her as she clung to the ragged steps. In the next lull, she pulled herself out of the water into the cool air. Her legs and arms quivered with the effort to crawl up one more step to get away from the next crashing wave. The rain poured and thunder cracked, as lightning wrote letters across the sky. She longed to rest, as shivers trembled from her core. She needed dry clothes and hot tea.
Using the natural handholds on the jagged and cracked limestone, she hauled herself to standing and staggered to the top. As she pulled on her soaking shirt, Isaac emerged from the trees.
“I’m sorry, I had to get Bass in the truck. His leg . . .”
Sanna waved him off, but he picked up her jeans and shoes despite her wordless protests. She was grateful for that. As they walked to the truck, Sanna, barefoot, stumbled on a tree root and Isaac caught her, scooping her up in his arms, his hand grasping her bare, wet thigh.
Her body still trembled from the chill and exhaustion, and Isaac pulled her closer to him. Sanna had never been carried by a man—she had never needed or wanted to be—but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t savor the sensation. She didn’t feel unwieldy in his arms. She fit.
At last they were at the truck and Sanna was tucked into the warm interior next to Bass, who shivered on the seat next to her. She looked down at him. Scrapes and bruises covered his legs, his wet curls pressed flat to his head, and big, wet tears welled in his eyes. Carefully, she eased the blanket covering the vinyl seat from under him and curled herself next to him.
“You okay?”
He nodded.
“Nothing broken?”
“I don’t think so,” he said with chattering teeth.
Isaac opened the door and slid behind the steering wheel. She pulled Bass close and covered them both so their body heat could work together against the chill and residual fear their bodies needed to work out.
As Isaac drove back to the farm, Sanna looked down at Bass.
“For a fish, you’re an awful swimmer.”
Bass looked at her, then they both burst into laughter.
Isaac looked at them both like they had gone insane, and maybe they had.