The first in Emma Cane’s sparkling new series,
set in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains.
AT FAIRFIELD ORCHARD
Fairfield Orchard #1
Emma Cane
Releasing Aug 30th, 2016
Avon Books
Emma Cane welcomes you to Fairfield
Orchard, where new love blooms and romance is always in season.
For Amy Fairfield, the family
orchard is more than a business. With its blossom-scented air and rows of trees
framed by the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains, it’s her heritage and her future.
But right now, it’s also a headache. Putting a painful breakup behind her, Amy
has come home to help revitalize Fairfield Orchard. She doesn’t have time for
the handsome-distracting-professor who wants to dig into her family’s history
for his research.
Jonathan Gebhart knows he needs the
Fairfields’ cooperation to make his new book a success. As for Amy-nothing in
his years of academia could have prepared him for their sudden and intense
attraction. He doesn’t want to complicate her life further, especially since
she seems uneasy about him poking around in the past and he knows he’s not the
sort of man built for forever. But some sparks can’t help but grow, and
Jonathan and Amy may just learn that unexpected love can be the sweetest of
all.
Emma Cane's new series is off to an endearing start with AT FAIRFIELD ORCHARD. The story is filled with all the things we want to read in romance: fun leading characters, sexy chemistry, smart banter, and moments that touch the heart.
I felt drawn to Amy. I loved watching her change as the story went on. Normally a strong woman, she is healing from a break-up from a long-time lover. She deals with emotional changes as she realizes how she let herself become isolated from her family and friends. Now home to help her family's historical apple orchard after her parents decide to retire, she gets a chance to reconnect with her friends and a couple of siblings which includes her daytime tv star twin brother. She planned on staying for six months, but soon she threw herself into joining her family in improving the orchard so it could stay in the family for decades to come.
Jonathan didn't grab me as quickly, he seemed very uptight. A professor, he asks the family's help in trying to prove that one of the former presidents may have escaped in the area from the British during the Revolutionary War. I think I was worried that he might use Amy, but Ms. Cane's talented hand soon had me liking Jonathan more and more as the story progressed and his love for his careers historical insights was infectious. So was the way that he became infatuated with Amy.
The story was fun, but it also dealt with some serious issues. Amy learned to forgive herself and reach out to the friendships she let slip away. You also got to meet more Fairfield's like her sister Rachel, her brother Tyler and her grandparents. I can't wait to see who is featured in the next book.
Together, Amy and Jonathan have a sweet and sexy chemistry that simmered before it kicked up the heat. They both carried some baggage and it was fun watching the two connect until they helped each other learn to love and trust again and they brought out the best in each other. Neither were looking for love, but love found them in a beautiful apple orchard.
Amy
heard the crunch of gravel beneath Jonathan Gebhart’s feet, and she
ducked her head until she could watch him walk away. He’d been an
interesting man, all sober and serious, and seemed a little taken
aback when she’d teased him. She could still see his short, wavy
black hair that looked difficult to tame. It was hard to forget his
eyes, green as spring in the orchard—and that moment when he’d
really looked at her as a woman. That had been surprising and
unsettling. He didn’t have laughing eyes—she imagined he didn’t
laugh much at all, which was a shame, when he looked so gorgeous.
Would
he be one of those boring professors who droned on and on about
something that no longer mattered to anyone? No, he’d sounded too
passionate about his request. Maybe he brought that focus to kids who
only needed his course as an elective, who stared out the window on a
gorgeous day and wished to be anywhere else. That had been her, once
upon a time…
But
not where history was concerned. That was an interest she had once
had in common with the professor. But she’d let it all go, pushed
it from her mind just as she’d pushed her family and friends away.
She was surprised how much the amateur genealogist inside her had
tried to come creaking back to life when he’d told her his
hypothesis about Jefferson and her family land. But she wouldn’t
let it.
When
the professor reached his car, Amy saw that his broad shoulders were
squared, and he moved like a man who always knew exactly what he was
doing, had everything planned out. She always found confidence sexy.
He’d been professionally attired in a buttoned-down shirt and
chinos beneath the jacket she’d ruined, while she was grubby, with
torn jeans and old shirts. He’d been dignified and educated, and
she’d dropped out of college to spend her time with a man who
hadn’t proven worthy of the sacrifice. It hadn’t been a sacrifice
at the time, of course; she’d been giddy with what she thought was
love. Amy knocked her forehead into the nearest branch, as if that
could knock some sense into her. It had taken far too long for that
sense to take hold, and it had proven costly.
She
heard his car start, and then he was gone, dirt rising up behind as
he traveled at a respectful speed down toward Spencer Hollow, the
little village between the orchard and Crozet, the nearest small
town. She used to take the quiet dirt road as an invitation to speed,
roaring down the hill, the rolling countryside stretched out below
her, rows of apple trees rising and falling as far as the eye could
see. Life had been full of excitement and possibilities then—full
of the promise of foolish mistakes, too, but she hadn’t known that.
Otherwise, she would have stayed holed up in her childhood bedroom
forever.
She
was back there now, in that same bedroom, her cheerleading trophies
and school certificates still on the wall. She’d chosen this path,
of course. When she’d gotten the call that her parents had wanted
to retire, she’d been only too glad to run home for a fresh start.
She’d been so excited to help her family, to spend more time with
her siblings, to prove that they were all so important to her. But
underneath all those good reasons she had to admit that coming home
also meant pretending she hadn’t let her life get so horribly,
humiliatingly out of control as she’d spent years with a man who’d
developed the same issues with alcohol that her dad had once had.
No
one knew, of course, not even her twin brother—which Amy worried
was causing a certain distance between them these last few years. But
no one was ever going to know how foolish she had been. Her
ex-boyfriend, Rob, certainly wouldn’t tell; he’d moved on to the
next woman, one even more malleable than she’d been. Amy had quit
college for that idiot, she thought, groaning aloud. But at the time,
it had seemed like a great move. Her grades had suffered because all
she’d wanted was to begin a life with Rob, to live with him and
make a home.
It
was Rob who’d introduced her to real estate, his family business.
She’d started learning the ropes while still in college, helping
out agents part-time. She discovered she loved working with people,
and had a knack for knowing how to find the most important reason why
someone looked for a home, and then delivering on it. She didn’t
need college for that, so she’d dropped out. Gradually, as things
with Rob got worse, it was harder and harder to be a part of his
family business. Breaking up with him had meant eventually quitting
her job, and it was almost a relief to be done with anything to do
with him.
Now
she was facing a new future, and she didn’t want to look back, to
see again the mistakes she’d made.
But
the professor wanted to talk about the past—her family’s past,
and the memories weren’t always pleasant. Did she really want such
a reminder? And, of course, there was the fact that she was always so
quick to help a guy out, she thought with dismay. But she wouldn’t
let her own hang-ups interfere with her promise to give his request
some thought. He was right about her family’s link to Thomas
Jefferson. If he had discovered new information, how could she
deprive him of finding out the truth?
To
clear her head, Amy took a deep breath of the apple blossoms all
around her. This was
the scent of springtime, fragrant and lush, of her childhood, of her
family obsession for generations. She’d been molded by the rhythm
of the seasons, of planting baby trees with her father in the spring,
of morning walks through the orchard in the fall, examining apples to
predict when each variety would be at peak ripeness. There definitely
was a history here, the good kind—and the bad. She just didn’t
know if she wanted to talk about it with a stranger, for there were
dark episodes, like her father’s drinking, that warped some of her
memories.
Yet
being back at home with her twin brother, Tyler, made her feel all
about family right now. Late last year, her mom, Patty, had had a
breast cancer scare, and though it had turned out to be a benign
lump, everything had changed for her father. Though sober for the
last ten years, he’d never forgotten how his wife had taken up the
slack when he’d been hungover, when he’d forgotten family events,
when he had to be guided home after parties. Now Patty deserved the
retirement she’d always dreamed of, and Bruce had intended to give
it to her—even though the orchard’s finances were shaky. He
couldn’t just give the orchard to his children and leave; there was
no money for that. He would have had to sell it, and the thought had
horrified the whole family. As the professor had pointed out, there’d
been a Fairfield on this land for one hundred and ninety-nine
years—Amy did know a lot more of her family history than she’d
let on. It was their heritage, their history, their children’s
future. Their sister Rachel, who’d been Dad’s right hand for
years, couldn’t resurrect it all on her own.
So
Amy’s oldest brother Logan, who’d made a fortune as a hedge fund
manager in New York City and was now a venture capitalist, had
offered a financial gift to their parents so they could buy their RV
and begin their adventures. He’d insisted it was his right to share
what he’d earned, and they’d reluctantly, graciously accepted.
But Amy and the rest of her siblings had balked when he’d tried to
bail out the orchard, too. After all, he was in business with several
partners—it should be an official investment, a loan. The siblings
even insisted on offering a business plan for what they intended to
do to make Fairfield Orchard a success again.
And
Amy, who’d been away from the business for a good ten years—except
for working weekends at the height of autumn harvest—was beginning
to feel a bit overwhelmed. Coming up with a new idea to change things
up at the orchard was now going to fall on her, Tyler, and Rachel.
Thank God for Rachel, who knew everything there was to know about the
family business. With her help, they’d come up with a great way to
position Fairfield Orchard for the twenty-first century.
Amy
took a step higher in the ladder so she could look across the tops of
the other pink-draped apple trees and see the Blue Ridge Mountains,
the backdrop of her youth. She took a deep breath of the sweet
fragrance and momentarily closed her eyes with happiness. It was so
good to be home.
“Hey,
are you still up the same tree?”
And
then there was Tyler. Amy looked down to find her twin leaning
against the tree, arms folded across his chest. He was giving her
that killer smile that had won over legions of soap opera fans before
the show had been canceled. He’d played Dr. Lake, dreamboat hunk
and dedicated neurosurgeon— who always seemed to be in the ER to
treat every other kind of trauma, too. Both twins had the same light
brown hair and blue eyes, but his short hair seemed tousled
naturally, rakishly—although she knew he spent a half hour in front
of the bathroom mirror every morning, complaining the whole time
about the necessity. His agent had several screen tests lined up over
the next few months and was confident they would lead to work. Most
of the time, Amy couldn’t even be bothered to blow-dry her hair,
just tossed it up in a ponytail. Tyler took good care of his body,
and had already been after Amy to start running with him. As if she
could keep up.
They
talked or texted several times a week where once it had been several
times a day. When Tyler said he’d come home to help her run the
orchard, she’d been so happy knowing they’d spend time together
again. College and life had separated them, and it had been jarring
at first. He was a part of her.
In
many ways, he was the same old Tyler, charming and happy, but in
other ways, she
sensed
. .. something else. Was he hiding part of himself? But of course,
she hadn’t told him what had happened with Rob either.
“Have
you been watching me?” she called. “You can see a lot from the
house.”
“But
not enough to come join me.” “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“After
sleeping in,” she teased.
He
shrugged. “We famous actors have busy evening schedules. Have to
see and be seen, you know—however annoying it is.”
“No
one to see you here at the orchard.” She climbed down the ladder.
“Or did you go out last night after I’d gone to bed? Oh,
wait—didn’t I see a Tweet about watching a TV show? Me and your
thousands of followers?”
He
rolled his eyes, then nudged her elbow with his. “It’s part of
the job, and my agent keeps hounding me about it. Keeping track of
me?”
“Always,”
she said fondly, smiling. “It’s my job as your big sister.”
He
snorted. “By five minutes.”
“It’s
still five minutes,” she said sweetly. “Think we’ll have any
groupie interruptions today?”
He
grimaced. “I hope not. Sorry.”
Yesterday,
a group of forty-something women had supposedly been on a wine tour
of the region, and “accidentally” gone out of their way to see
Tyler. He’d signed autographs, chatted personably, and Amy had
gotten to watch her brother in action. He’d always been good with
fans, just as she’d always been good with clients. Just another
thing the twins had in common.
“I
don’t want them to interfere with the orchard,” he said. “Come
fall, when we’re officially open, I can’t guarantee what will
happen. The public is welcome, after all.”
Her
smile fading, she touched his arm. “This is a temporary job for
both of us. Six months. No one’s asking you to leave Manhattan
permanently.”
He
gave her a crooked smile. “I know. But I’m as glad to be here as
you are. We’re both running away from something, aren’t we?”
Her
eyes widened in surprise. “Tyler—”
But
he already had the ladder in both hands and was walking to the next
tree. “It’s been a while since I checked for disease. Let’s
remember together.”
She
followed him, and soon they were trying to remember spraying
schedules, how to keep ahead of apple scab, and when the beekeeper
was supposed to arrive. Those were some of the topics of her
childhood, and they should have felt safe as they prepared questions
for their sister Rachel. But the topics were also part of the past,
and it was difficult to feel safe there, when their father had so
often let them down.
A
couple hours later they went back to the house for lunch. Afterward,
Tyler retreated to his room to return phone calls and messages, and
so did she. It wasn’t easy to abruptly walk away from a real estate
career. She’d been a little concerned that it would be difficult
not to be out in the community every day, dealing with buyers and
sellers, being in a crowded office on occasion. So far, so good. It
was peaceful to be with only a handful of longtime employees. And
when the fall season began, she’d have more people around her every
day than she knew what to do with.
For
a moment, she stood still in her old bedroom. The sun shone through
the windows, glinting off her MVP trophy from her senior year of
competitive cheerleading. There was a good citizen certificate from
the Rotary Club, a cross she’d been given for her First Communion.
There was even a stuffed animal some boyfriend had won her at the
county fair. The blue-and-white checked comforter matched Rachel’s
old one, from when they used to share bunk beds in the same room. It
felt familiar and comfortable. She was home, ready to begin her
new—perhaps temporary—future.
She
looked through the photos pinned to her corkboard: prom group shots,
lots of photos with her siblings, especially Tyler, and then the
family shot they’d taken at the fair, where they’d all dressed up
in nineteenth-century clothes and posed with serious expressions.
She’d
once had another photo just like that. Only it had been real and rare
and a hundred years old. The professor would have liked that, she
thought hollowly. Once, genealogy had been a passion of hers, and she
had spent hours talking to her grandfather, going through old letters
and photos with him. The discovery of this
photo had been the culmination of her private research, a way to
surprise her grandpa with a picture of his own grandfather and his
family. She reached behind the desk for the manila envelope where she
kept the small pieces that were all that was left of the photo, of
her attempt to do something to honor her family history for the two
hundredth anniversary next year. Her stupidity had ruined it all. She
couldn’t keep the evidence here where Tyler could find it; she
couldn’t throw it away, because it was proof of a life she never
wanted to return to, of what her mistake had cost her. She’d find a
hiding place, perhaps her old one in the barn.
Now,
the future had to be all that mattered.
But
not to Professor Gebhart. He was all about the past—he wanted her
family’s past, and it only felt like another reminder of her
mistake in trusting a man who didn’t think he had a drinking
problem.
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Emma Cane grew
up reading and soon discovered that she liked to write passionate stories of
teenagers in space. Her love of “passionate stories” has never gone away,
although today she concentrates on the heartwarming characters of Valentine
Valley and Fairfield Orchard.
Now that
her three children are grown, Emma loves spending time crocheting and singing
(although not necessarily at the same time), and hiking and snowshoeing
alongside her husband Jim and their rambunctious dog Uma.
Emma also
writes USA Today bestselling historical romances under the
name Gayle Callen.
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Wonderful review! Thank you for hosting AT FAIRFIELD ORCHARD today!
ReplyDeleteCrystal, Tasty Book Tours
I really enjoyed this story. Nice review!
ReplyDelete