Free Family Trees by Kerstin March Page A

face.
    â€œWe aren’t picking apples yet. It’s too early in the season,” she called out, raising her free hand above her eyes to try to block the sun and get a better look. “But you can find berries on the south side of the barn.”
    â€œYes,” he said, making his slow approach. “I know.”
    â€œSomeone at the store can help you.”
    The appearance of this stranger put her on guard. People rarely wandered into this section of the orchard, let alone men on their own. In fact, she doubted if she had ever seen a man come out alone. Men on dates, yes. Men with families, definitely. But alone? Never. So why was this one here? She instinctively looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, in case she needed help. Seeing no one, Shelby stepped down from the ladder.
    â€œYou should head out to the other part of the farm,” she said again, with more insistence, while pointing in the direction he had come.
    He raised his hand in greeting. “I came out to see you.”
    â€œThat’s far enough!” she said sternly, walking toward her truck without taking her eyes off of the man. She swallowed hard. “You need to back the hell—” Just then a cloud blocked out the sun and, in its shadow, the man’s face came into view. It was him. The tourist who had helped her with the pies. She sighed with relief. As the tension in her arms and shoulders relaxed, her fear turned into bewilderment. It still didn’t make sense why any man would be in the orchards, let alone this one, who certainly must have had more interesting things to do on his vacation.
    â€œI’m sorry if I startled you.”
    â€œThat’s an understatement.”
    He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his khaki shorts and shrugged. “Should I go?”
    â€œYes—I mean, no,” she faltered. Shelby rubbed the side of her neck while considering the man standing before her, unaware that in doing so she left a smear of dirt across her skin. “You don’t have to go. I didn’t realize it was you.” The cloud passed overhead and the orchard was bathed in sunlight once again. She pulled the brim of her hat lower over her eyes to block out the glare. “Brian, was it?” She knew it was Ryan.
    â€œIt’s Ryan, actually.” A smile settled on his face as he took a few more cautious steps toward her.
    â€œYes, Ryan. Sorry. I’m terrible with names.”
    â€œAnd you’re Shelby. I remember.” He was now standing a few feet away.
    She remembered him being attractive, but out here in the afternoon sun, he was stunning. “What are you doing out here?”
    â€œYour grandmother told me where to find you.”
    â€œGran?” The thought of her grandmother’s involvement was somewhat reassuring, only because Shelby knew she was an excellent judge of character. He must have said or done something right for Ginny to send him into the orchard to find her. Shelby set the branch cutter down on the ground and crossed her arms over her chest, curious to hear what he had to say.
    â€œI hope you don’t mind,” he answered, now standing in front of her. “But earlier—back in town—you drove away so quickly. I didn’t have time to give you something.”
    â€œGive me what?”
    He pushed his hands deeper into the khakis that hung loosely over his narrow hips. She averted her eyes until he found what he was looking for and extended his hand toward her. When Shelby looked up, she saw her turquoise pendant necklace dangling from his fingers. She removed one of her work gloves and set her hand upon her collarbone. Her neck was bare. The necklace swayed back and forth from his fingers, like a clock slowly ticking off the seconds until she found her voice.
    â€œI don’t know what to say. I guess . . . I didn’t realize I had lost it.” Shelby reached out, touching Ryan’s hand lightly as he