Page 64 of Under the Orchard’s Spell

My breath hitches and now it is too overwhelming, so I motion like I’m going to turn away.

“Well, let me just—” I say as Logan grunts out a laugh and catches my shoulder, keeping me pinned into his side.

He rests his temple on top of my head again, lifts his head to smooth back some of my unruly curls, and replaces his cheek.

“When I was eighteen,” he says, tracing the inside of my palm with his thumb as he talks, “I stayed in Apple Valley because my mom left and my brothers needed me. When I was twenty, I took over my family’s business because Dad stopped working and someone needed to pay the bills. I’m thirty-two now and until it burned down two weeks ago, I was still sleeping in the same bedroom I had as a child.”

He pauses. “I’ve never gotten to choose any of my life for myself. Until now.”

I feel the words twist in my chest.

“Those are good reasons,” I say.

“You think?”

“I really, really do.” I consider how much practice I have with goodbyes. “And maybe I deserve it at this point. Some kind of karma. Now that I’m finally staying put, it’s—”

I cut myself off. Bolt upright.

Logan swivels, his eyebrows pulling together in concern. “Ali?”

My mouth drops open, working over words I haven’t even put into thoughts.

“Blake and Liv,” I say. “My mom. Your mom. You.”

“What about us?”

“The curse,” I tell him. “I know what the curse is.”

Chapter Fifteen

“It makes people leave, doesn’t it?”

The next day, I corner Val, freshly out of her boot, when she shows up with folding tables and chairs.

I’ve barely been able to think about anything but the curse since last night when Logan and I made our way back to the house together, although I was still vibrating from his nearness, my brush with something beautiful and fleeting. In the cold light of day, I’m already wondering if, last night, I was acting more on impulse than logical thought. Under that tree, I wanted him so much that I told him it didn’t matter if it would hurt later. Maybe that was wrong. There are too many logical reasons we shouldn’t have done what we did. He’s leaving, for one. He’s barely been back in my life for two weeks. And less than two months ago, I was engaged.

At the same time, being with Logan, drawing myself close to him once again, feels right in a way that it never did with Blake.

Although if I’m right about the curse, I might soon regret that, too.

When I brought up my theory to him, Logan didn’t seem entirely convinced. Whether this was a product of his reflexive skepticism or because my explanation wasn’t that compelling, I don’t know.

“Might not be what it is,” he said.

I found myself wondering if his doubt was a kind of false hope. Either way, I need to know.

So, the question practically explodes out of me as Val rolls open the door of her overfull rental van.

She turns slowly. She’s supposed to be taking it easy now that her boot is off, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the way she’s still clutching the door handle.

“The curse,” I repeat. “It makes people leave the orchard. Maybe it’s circumstantial or maybe it’s a suggestion or maybe it’s a full-on push, but that’s the result. People who spend time here end up leaving.”

Val’s shoulders hunch. Her tongue runs over her teeth as her eyes dart like she’s searching for the exits.

“I would really like to know the truth,” I plead quietly. “It’s my land. Uncle Martin entrusted this place to me, and I’m supposed to take care of these trees for the rest of my life. I’d like to understand exactly what that means.”

Val sighs and rests a temple against the van. Then she slides the door closed and loops an arm around my shoulder.