Page 8 of Lime Tree Hill

Prue:I still love you. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?

Mitch:I’m sorry too. But it’s over.

As another text came through, Mitch slid his phone across the desk. He sat with his head in his hands, knowing it if he didn’t shut down their exchange, he might cave. Tell her that he hadn’t been okay for months. That he still loved her too. Still thought about her every other day. Still questioned why she’d cheated like that.

He stood and clicked his fingers. Edward looked up. “Come on, boy. I need some fresh air.”

Tayla arrived just after two. Standing before him in a floaty dress and Chucks, her light brown locks caught the afternoon sun that filtered through the open packing shed doors.

He still couldn’t get used to her this way. When she was a student, she’d kept her natural features hidden under layers of makeup, and her eyebrows had looked like they’d been tattooed on by some kid with a gun in his garage. But those dark ruby lips had been perfectly applied, the nose ring always in place.

Now everything about her was light. From her hair to her clothes to her barely there makeup. Everything except her mood.Her mood was darker than midnight.

“Tayla. Thanks for coming.” Mitch rose from his chair and stepped toward her. “Shall we go upstairs?”

“Here’s fine.” She took the seat in front of his desk before he’d offered it and shot him a frigid glance. “What’s this about?”

Okay!

As Mitch returned to his chair, he thought back several years. After his grandfather died, he’d asked Tayla to have coffee with him so they could reminisce about Norman, the man they’d both loved. But she’d refused, her demeanor similar to now. “I want to discuss the sale.”

“Apparently, there is no sale. But please, enlighten me.” She paused. “Why make an offer you couldn’t deliver on?”

Mitch went to speak, but scarcely pausing to draw breath, Tayla continued, “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? You might not think you owe me an explanation, but I disagree.”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Gathering his thoughts, he stood and walked to the window. He turned. “Norman attached extensive stipulations to my inheritance. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for everything he’s done for me, but he wanted to make sure I didn’t screw it up. I had to be twenty-eight before the orchard was mine, which suited me fine. I was traveling with my job and didn’t want to give up that lifestyle when I was younger.”

“Yes, I remember him talking about that. What would happen to the orchard when ‘the boy’ took over.”

“I think he’d be happy with how it’s turned out. Of course, he never had a passion for organics. Thought it was some hippy fad.” He leaned his butt against the front of his desk. Tayla scooted her chair back a fraction, as if his presence unsettled her, but her hazeleyes never left his.

“I was due a substantial payout at the end of last year. But there was a hiccup, and the estate trustees refused to release the funds. I’m still interested in buying Cherry Grove, but I can’t raise the money right now without jeopardizing my cash flow.”

Her eyes widened. “So you’ll let my parents go under instead?”

“I hadn’t realized they were in such a dire financial position. Barry acted as if everything was fine. Although I did wonder when he asked me if I wanted to lease the cherries.”

“What do you mean, lease the cherries?”

“I’ve leased Cherry Grove’s trees for two seasons now. It’s common practice. Fruit trees are leased all over the district. Your father wanted the money early, so I paid him for the crop in advance.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned that?”

“I think the dream’s turned into a nightmare for him lately.Cherries need dry conditions with low humidity. Our climate’s not ideal, and as a result, Cherry Grove’s crop hasn’t reached export standard for the past few years. When competing with fruit from Central Otago, they don’t stack up.”

“So, how do you make them profitable?” Her frown deepened.

“Sell them fresh through the farm gate store. Even then, they can be a loss leader. Any surplus, we pickle in brandy or dry them.”

“I didn’t know any of this.”

“But you hold their power of attorney?”

“Yes, but Dad never discusses his finances with any of us. Not even Mum.”

That didn’t surprise Mitch. Barry was a proud man with old-school values. A nice guy who’d lost interest in his business. Simon Harrow was right; he’d stumbled upon the solution with a simple comment of jest. “I’m sorry I had to go back on my word, but I have an idea.”

At this, Tayla appeared to relax a little. “Go on.”

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