Page 104 of Fall is Brewing

"She broke his nose with an apple⁠—"

"He remembered her the whole time⁠—"

"He didn't tell her⁠—"

"And now she's mad but not really mad because she understands why he waited but she's also mad because he decided for her when she got to know⁠—"

"...and somehow this is affecting the cider."

They finish talking exactly at the same time too and silence settles over the barn.

Grandpa blinks once. Twice. “That’s a lot to process.” Then he reaches over, steals the last pumpkin spice donut from the paper bag, tears it neatly in half, and takes a bite.

I groan, dropping my forehead into my hands. "I hate every single one of you."

"No, you don't," Lena says with a smile.

Grandpa drags over an old wooden stool, the legs scraping softly across the concrete before he eases himself onto it with a quiet grunt. He rests his forearms on his knees, turning the half-eaten donut slowly between his fingers.

"You know," he says after a moment, "your grandmother almost didn’t marry me."

My head lifts. "What?"

He smiles to himself, not at any of us but at something only he can see. "When I met Eleanor, I was twenty-three and convinced I wanted to see the world. My daddy expected me to take over Hartley & Sons someday." He chuckles. "Truth was, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather do less."

June and Lena exchange a surprised look and my jaw nearly smacks the wooden planks of the floor. “You never told me that,” I say.

"Oh yeah. I'd already accepted a surveying job out in Montana. Was gonna leave right after harvest."

"What?" I blink. "You were leaving Orchard Falls?"

"I was gone already." He nods. "At least in my head." He turns the donut over in his hands. "Only problem was… this new family moved into the ol’ Miller pumpkin farm and took over. They had the most beautiful daughter and I kept finding excuses to drive over there as often as I could.”

"The Miller farm?" I ask.

"Mmm." His eyes soften. "Your grandma's family. I'd tell her I needed hay, or fence posts, or some foolish thing." He snorts. "Didn't even own a single horse here at Hartley & Sons, but I bought more hay bales that year."

Lena smiles. "So you lied."

"Oh, I lied plenty." He nods. "But not about the important part." His expression grows quieter. "I never told her I was leaving."

The barn falls still. "I told myself I was protecting us both. That omitting truth wasn’t really lying. Figured there wasn't much sense breaking her heart over something that hadn't happened yet." He lets out a slow breath. "Then she found the job offer tucked inside my truck."

My chest tightens.

"She wasn't angry because I was leaving," Grandpa says softly. "She was angry because I'd already made the decision without giving her the chance to stand beside me while I made it."

The words settle deep inside me. "I asked her to forgive me." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Know what she said?"

The three of us shake our heads.

"'I don't need a man who never makes mistakes, Henry. I need one who trusts me enough to make them with me.'"

His eyes meet mine. "I'm not gonna sit here and tell you Brooks was right.” He lets that sit for a beat. "I'm telling you fear makes good people do foolish things. And I can empathize with his decision.” Another beat. "And if you decide he's worth forgiving..."

He smiles toward the wedding band still circling his weathered finger. "...make him earn it." The barn grows quiet again.

Outside, somewhere beyond the open doors, the wind stirs through the orchard.