The Apple Orchard by Susan Wiggs - Chapter Sampler

7/28/2019 The Apple Orchard by Susan Wiggs - Chapter Sampler

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DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it was

reported unsold and destroyed by a retailer.Neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment

for this book.

First Published 2013First Australian Paperback Edition 2013ISBN 978 174356053 2

THE APPLE ORCHARD 2013 by Susan WiggsPhilippine Copyright 2013

Australian Copyright 2013New Zealand Copyright 2013

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All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in anyform. This edition is published in arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A..

This is a work of ction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either theproduct of the authors imagination or are used ctitiously, and any resemblance

to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales isentirely coincidental.

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Printed and bound in Australia by Grifn Press


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Part One

Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples:

for I am sick of love.

The Song of Solomon, 2:5

Apples are iconic and convey so muchhome, comfort, whole-someness, health, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, sensuality, seduc-

tionand sin. The Gravenstein apple (Danish: Grsten-ble)

comes from Grsten in South Jutland, Denmark. The fruit ranges

in color from yellow-green to crimson and has a tart flavor,

prct r cki ad aki app cidr. Tis is a p-

ra varity tat dst kp w, s it sud b jyd rs

r t rcard.


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PrOlOgue

Archangel, California

The air smelled of apples, and the orchard hummed withthe sound of bees hovering over the bushels of harvested

fruit. The trees were in prime condition, waiting for

the harvest workers to arrive. The branches had been pruned

in readiness for the ladders, the last pesky groundhog had been

trapped and carted away; the roads between the trees had been

graded smooth so the fruit wouldnt be jostled in transport. Themorning was cool with a mist hanging among the branches.

The sun, ripe on the eastern horizon of the rolling hills, offered

the promise of warmth later in the day. The pickers would be

here soon.

Magnus Johansen balanced on the picking ladder, feeling as

steady as a man a quarter his age. Isabel would scold him if shesaw; his granddaughter would call him an old fool for working

alone instead of waiting for the pickers to arrive. But Magnus

liked the early solitude; he liked having the whole orchard to

himself in the muted hush of the warming morning. He was in

his eighth decade of life; God only knew how many more har-


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Susan Wiggs14

Ibel worred o mch bot hm thee dy. She teded to

hover, like a honeybee in the milkweed that surrounded the or-

chard. Magnus wished she wouldnt fret. She should know he

hd lredy rvved the bet d wort lfe hd to offer.

Truth be told, he worried about Isabel far more than she wor-

red bot hm. It w the th he didnt kow tht wehed

po hm th mor. He coldt keep her the drk for-

ever. The letter on the desk in his study confirmed his worst

fearunless a miracle occurred, all of Bella Vista would be lost.

Magnus did his best to set aside the troubles for the moment.

He hd re erly to do h dem d boot, kow tody

was the day. Over the years, he had learned to judge the mo-

ment of maturity for the fruit. Too early, and you had to deal

with the ineff iciencies of spot picking. Too late, and you risked

hv frt tht w eecet, brek dow from old e.

Some mornings he felt his own kind of senescence deep in the

mrrow of h boe. Not tody, thoh. Tody, he felt re

of energy, and his fruit was at the peak of perfection. Hed per-

formed the trch ode tet, of core, bt more mporttly,

hed bitten into an apple, knowing by its firmness, sweetness

and crunch that the time had come. Over the next few days,

the orchrd wold be by beehve. He wold ed hfruit to market in the waiting boxes, each with a bright Bella

Vt Orchrd lbel.

A trio cluster of glossy, crimson-striped Gravensteins hung

several feet out on a branch above his head. Hard-to-reach limbs

were usually pruned, but this one was productive. Carefully

aware of the extent of his reach, he leaned forward to pick a trioof apples and add them to his basket. These days, most of the

workers preferred the long bags, which made two-handed pick-

eer, bt M w old chool. He w old, perod. Yet

even now, the land sustained him; there was something about the

rhythm of the seasons, the yearly renewal, that kept him as vig-


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The Apple Orchard 15

Mu to gt, s w.

As tu t s on t ig imb, is wob-

bled a bit. Chastened, he left the rest of the branch for the glean-

s n imb own.

As mov is iking to not t, t

fnti wi of b in istss in t mikw. A onyb,

greedy for the abundant nectar of the tangled blossoms, was

trapped in the flowers, a common occurrence. Magnus often

found their desiccated bodies enmeshed by the sticky seedpods.

Modern farmers tried to eradicate the milkweed, but Magnus

allowed it to flourish along the borders of the orchard, a habitat

fo bs n mon buttf is, fins n ybugs.

Feeling charitable, he liberated a trapped and furiously buzz-

ing b fom t stiky own, sing fuy of ss -

chuted by feathery umbrellas. With no notion that the sweetness

ws y, t b immity ov bk into t g nreturned to sipping nectar, the risk of getting caught obliter-

t by its ung.

Magnus moved on with a philosophical shrug. When nature

w tu to swtnss, t ou b no stoing it. H

mov is to t nxt t, ositioning it fo mximum

ffiiny, n imb to ofty . T, is bovt bns, in t goy of t moningt o-

n of t i, t quity of igt fiting toug t mist,

t ontous of t n n t istnt z of t on.

A sense of nostalgia swept through him, borne along on a

wave of memories. As though it were yesterday he could see the

sun-flooded landscape, with Eva down at the collection bins,smiing u t im s s suvis t vstis w bi,

stting nw if in Ami wit im. Ty buit B

Vist togt. It ws tib sm tt t bnk ws bout

to tk it wy.

Despite the successes and tragedies, the secrets and lies, Mag-


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Susan Wiggs16

woman he loved, and that was more than many poor souls could

cot. They hd creted world toether, ped ther dy

close to nature, eating crisp apples, fresh homemade bread slath-

ered with honey from their own hives, sharing the bounty with

workers and neighbors Yet those blessings had come at a cost,

oe tht wold be reckoed by power reter th hmelf.

His pocket phone chirped, disturbing the quiet of the morn-

ing. Isabel insisted that he carry a phone in his pocket at all

times; his was one of the simple ones that sent and received calls

wthot ll the other fcto tht wold oly cofe hm.

The ladder teetered again as he reached into the pocket of

h pld hrt. He ddt recoze the mber tht cme p.

Th M, he d, h ctomry reet.

It Aele.

H hert tmbled. Her voce oded th, older, bt, oh,

so familiar, despite the passage of decades. Beneath the thin, wa-very tones, he recognized the sound of a far younger woman,

oe he hd loved mch dfferet wy th hed loved Ev.

His grip tightened on the phone. How the devil did you

et th mber?

I tke t yo receved my letter, he d, lp to ther

tve Dh, probbly wthot eve relz t.I dd, d yo re boltely rht, he d, thoh he felt

his heart speed up at the admission. Its time to tell them ev-

eryth.

Have you done it? she asked. Magnus, its a simple enough

coverto.

Yes, but Isabelshes I dont like to upset her. Isabelbetfl d frle, o dmed by lfe t ch yo e.

And what about Theresa? Shes your granddaughter, too.

Wold yo rther the ew come from yo, or from ome -

deted trer? Were ot ett y yoer, yo d I.

If yo dot do ometh rht wy, I wll.


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11/24

Part twO

Millions saw the apple fall,

but Newton was the one who asked why.

Bernard M. Baruch


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aPPle Chutney

This is a nice accompaniment to spiced pork, roasted chicken or grilled

salmon.

3 tart cooking apples,cored and diced (noneed to peel)

cup chopped white

onion tablespoon minced

ginger root

cup orange juice

1 cup cider vinegar

cup brown sugar

teaspoon grainy mustard

teaspoon hot pepperflakes

teaspoon salt

cup raisins or currants

Combine all ingredients except the raisins in a heavy sauce-

pan. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly, then reduce to

simmer and stir occasionally until most of the liquid has evap-

orated; about 45 minutes. Remove from heat and add the rai-

sins. Store in the refrigerator or can using traditional methods.

(Source: Adapted from a recipe by the Washington State Apple Commis-

sion)


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One

San Francisco

Tess Delaneys to-do list was stacked invisibly over herhead like the air traffic over OHare. She had clients

waiting to hear from her, associates hounding her for re-

ports and a make-or-break meeting with the owner of the firm.

She pushed back at the pressing anxiety and focused on the task

at handrestoring a treasure to its rightful owner.

The current mission brought her to an overfurnished apart-ment in Alamo Square. Miss Annelise Winther, still spry at

eighty, ushered her into a cozy place with thready lace curtains,

dust-ruff led chairs and a glorious scent of something baking.

Tess wasted no time in presenting the treasure.

Miss Winthers hands, freckled by age, the joints knotted with

arthritis, shook as she held the antique lavaliere. Beneath a pink

knitted shawl, her bony shoulders trembled.

This necklace belonged to my mother, she said, her voice

breaking over the word. I havent seen it since the spring of

1941. She lifted her gaze to Tess, who sat across the scrubbed


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Susan Wiggs24

eyes, winking like the facets of a jewel. I have no words to

thk yo for br th to me.

Its my pleasure, said Tess. Moments like thistheyre the

best part of my job. The sense of pride and accomplishment

helped her ore the tet bzz of her phoe, l yet

other com mee.

Aele Wther w Te fvorte kd of clet. She w

unassuming, a woman of modest means, judging by the decrepit

condition of her apartment, in one of the citys rambling Victo-

rians that had seen better days. Two cats, whom the woman had

introduced as Golden and Prince, lazed in the late-afternoon

tm he pll throh bmped-ot by wdow.

A homey-look eedlepot pece h o the wll, ber

the lo Lve Th Dy.

Miss Winther took off her glasses, polished them and put them

bck o. Glc t Te be crd, he d, TeDelaney, Provenance Specialist, Sheff ield Auction House. Well,

Ms. Delaney. Im extremely glad you found me, too. Youve

doe well for yorelf.

Her voice had a subtle tinge of an accent. I saw that His-

tory Chel pecl bot the Krkw Mem. Yo wo

wrd lt moth Pold.You saw that? Tess asked, startled to know the woman had

recozed her.

Indeed I did. You were given a citation for restoring the ro-

sary of Queen Maria Leszczynska. It had been stolen by Nazi

looter d w m for decde.

It w momet. Te hd felt o prod tht ht. Theonly trouble was, shed been in a room full of strangers. No one

w preet to wte her trmph. Her mother hd promed

to come but had to cancel at the last minute, so Tess had ac-

cepted the ccolde frot of mll cmer crew d cl-

trl mter wth wety hd.


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one to find my treasure. Miss Winthers words were slightly

startling. And Im so pleased that its you. I specifically re-

qust you.

Wy?

A us. Miss Wints f softn. Ps s ost

train of thought. Then she said, Because youre the best. Arent

you?

I try my best, Tess assured her. She thought the conver-

stion o, but in tis businss, s ws ustom to quiky

clients. This piece was with a group of recovered objects

fom Wo W II. Tss f quit s s tougt of t ot

piecesjewelry and art and collectibles. The majority of objects

min in imbo, ti oigin owns ong gon. S ti

not to imgin t tib sns of viotion so mny fmiis

had suffered, with Nazis invading their homes, plundering their

treasures and probably sending many of the family members offto die. Restoring lost treasures seemed a small thing, but the

ook on Miss Wints f ws its own w.

Youve made a miracle happen, she declared. I was just

ting fin on t on tt w nv too o to -

it tu mi.

For a miracle, Tess reflected, the task had entailed a lot ofhard work. But the expression on the womans face made all

the research, travel and red tape worthwhile. At her own ex-

pense, Tess had paid an expert to meticulously clean every link,

bgutt n ft of t vi. Tis is oy of t ov-

enance report. She slid the document across the table. Its ba-

siy istoy of t i fom its tion to t snt, sn s I ou t it to its oigins in Russi.

Its amazing that you were able to find this. When I first

ontt you fim, I tougt H voi ti off. How

on t i you o it?

Woking bkw toug t ovnn ot, Tss x-


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Susan Wiggs26

collecto of trere ezed Copehe. The lvlere

pink topaz, with gold filigree embellishments. The chain and

clasp are original. It was made by a Finnish designer by the

name of August Holmstrom. He was the principal jeweler for

the hoe of Fber.

M Wther eyebrow lfted. TheFber?

The very one. Taking out her loupe, Tess pointed out a tiny

spot on the piece. This is Holmstroms hallmark, right here, his

initials between a double-headed Imperial eagle. He designed

it specifically to foil counterfeiters. This particular piece was

frt metoed h de ctlo of 191 d prodced for

fhoble hop St. Peterbr. It w boht by mem-

ber of the Dh dplomtc corp.

My father. He brought the necklace home from a business

trip to Russia, and my mother was seldom without it. Besides her

wedding ring, it was her favorite piece of jewelry. He gave it toher to celebrate my birth. Though she never said so, I suspect she

coldt hve more chldre fter me. Her eye took o fr-

away look, and Tess wondered what she was seeingher hand-

ome fther? Her mother, wer the jewel t her hert?

The stories behind the treasures were always so intriguing,

though often bittersweet. The sad ones were particularly hardto ber. There were ome crelte tht were mply cocev-

able to normal people, some injustices too big to grasp. Miss

Winther must have been tiny when her world was ripped apart.

How cred he mt hve bee, how cofed.

I wish I could do more than simply restore this object, said

Te. It wod p wth mber of other pece repo-tory in the basement of an abandoned government building. I

spent the past year researching the archives. The Gestapo claimed

they kept objects for safekeeping. It was a common ploy. The

one helpful thing they did was to keep meticulous records of

the th they ezed.


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i Miss Wint y n? Di s v to know wt

iky n to nts?

There were facts Tess had no intention of sharing, such as the

vin tt Hi Wint bn siz witout uto-

ity by out offi, n obby tt ik sx sv fo

monts bfo s ws ut to t. Tis ws t toub wit

unoving t mystis of t st. Somtims you n u

discovering things better left buried. Was it preferable to expose

the truth at any cost or to protect someone from troubling mat-

ts ty no ow to ng?

This piece was taken from your mother after she was ar-

rested on suspicion of hiding spies, saboteurs and resistance fight-

ers at Bispebjerg Hospital. According to the arrest report, she

ws us of tning tints w xtmy i, n

s wou tn to tm unti ty onvninty is.

Miss Winther caught her breath, then nodded. That soundsik Mm. S ws so vy bv. S to m s ws os-

pital volunteer, but I always knew she was doing something

imotnt. Bin sts, t o ys ys took on

o gz of ng. My mot ws gg wy on bu-

tifu sing ftnoon wi I wt.

Tess felt an unbidden shudder of sympathy for the little girlMiss Winther had once been. Im so sorry. No child should

v to witnss tt.

Miss Winther held out the necklace, the facets of the large

ink toz ting t igt. Cou youut it on m? s

sk.

Of ous. Tss m oun bin n fstn tclasp of the necklace, feeling the old womans delicate bone

structure. Her hair smelled of lavender, and her dress under the

ink sw ws tb n f. Tss ft sug of mo-

tion. This find was going to change Miss Winthers life. In a

single transaction, the old woman could find herself living in


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Susan Wiggs28

Miss Winther reached up, cradling the jewel between her

plm. She w wer t tht dy. Eve they were tk

her away, she ordered me to run for my life, and that is just what

I did. I was very lucky in that moment, or perhaps there had

been a tip-off. A boy who was with the Holger Danskethe

Danish resistancespirited me to safety. Such a hero he was,

like the Scarlet Pimpernel in the French Revolution, only he

was quite real. I wouldnt be here today if not for him. None

of wold.

None of us? Tess wondered who she was referring to. Ghosts

from the womans sad past, probably. She didnt ask, though; she

hd other ppotmet o her chedle d coldt pre the

time. And knowing the human cost of the tragedy made Tess feel

vlerble. Stll, he w tke by the old ldy weete d

the r of otl tht ofteed her fetre whe he toched

the reclmed trere rod her eck.Were both all alone, we two, thoht Te. Hd M Wther

lwy bee loe? Will I always be?

Well, Im certainly glad youre here. The old ladys smile

w oft d trely tmte.

This is the appraisal on the piece. I think youll be very

pleed.The old lady stared at the document. It says my mothers la-

vlere worth $00,000.

Its an estimate. Depending on how the bidding goes, it could

vry by bot te percet p or dow.

Miss Winther fanned herself. Thats a fortune, she said. Its

more moey th I ever dremed of hv.Ad ot erly eoh to replce yor lo, bt t qte

fd. Im relly hppy for yo. Te felt low of ccomplh-

ment and pleasure for Miss Winther. In her frayed shawl, sur-

rounded by old things, she didnt look like a wealthy woman,

bt oo, he wold be.


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ment. Tess spread a multipage contract on the table. Heres the

agreement with Sheff ield Auction House, my firm. Its standard,

but you wnt to go ov it wit ontts xt.A timer dinged, and Miss Winther got up from the table.

The scones are ready. My favoritesI make them with laven-

der sugar. Its an old Danish recipe for autumn. You sit tight,

, n I f ix t t.

Tess pressed her teeth together and tried not to seem impa-

tient, though she had more appointments and work to do at theoffi. Honsty, s int wnt son, wit o witout v-

ender sugar. She didnt want tea. Coffee and a cigarette were

mo to tst n finity mo suit to t of

life. Shed been running since shed rocketed out of grad school

fiv ys bfo, n s ws in uy now. T quik s

brought the signed agreement to her firm, the quicker she earned bonus n ou mov on to t nxt tnstion.

However, the nature of her profession often called for for-

bearance. People became attached to their things, and some-

times letting go took time. Miss Winther had gone to a lot of

trouble to make scones. Knowing what she knew about the

Wint fmiy, Tss won wt t womn ft wn sminis bout t o ysf n ivtion? O i

tims, wn fmiy bn intt?

As s bust oun o-fsion kitn, Miss Win-

t wou us vy so oftn in font of itt fm mi-

o by t oo, gzing t t nk wit fwy ook in

her eyes. Tess wondered what she saw thereher pretty, adored

mother? An innocent girl who had no idea her entire world was

bout to b snt wy?

Tell me about what you do, Miss Winther urged her, pour-

ing tea into a pair of china cups. I would love to hear about

you if.


20/24

Susan Wiggs30

Miss Winther gave a soft gasp, as though Tesss statement sur-

pred her. Relly?

My mother is a museum acquisitions expert. My grand-

mother hd tqe lo Dbl.

So yo come from le of depedet wome.

Nicely put, thought Tess. Her gaze skated away. She wasnt

one to chat up a client for the sake of making a deal, but she gen-

uinely liked Miss Winther, perhaps because the woman seemed

truly interested in her. Neither my mother nor my grandmother

ever married, she explained. Ill probably carry on that tra-

dition, as well. My life is too busy for a serious relationship.

Gah, Tess, listen to yourself, she thought. Say it often enough and

youll believe it.

Well. I suspect thats only because the right person hasnt

come alongyet. Pretty girl like you, with all that gorgeous red

hr. Im rpred ome m ht wept yo off yor feet.Tess shook her head. My feet are planted firmly on the

rod.

I never married, either. A wistful expression misted her

eyes. I was in love with a man right after the war, but he mar-

red omeoe ele. She ped to dmre the toe oce .

It mt be o exct, the work of trere hter.It takes a lot of research, which most people would find

tedious. So many dead ends and disappointments, said Tess.

Most of my time is spent combing archives and old records and

ctlo. It c be frtrt. Bt o worthwhle whe I et to

mke rettto lke th. Ad every oce ret whle, I

might find myself peeling away a worthless canvas to find a Ver-meer beeth. Or erth forte der hepherd ht

in a f ield somewhere. Sometimes its a bit macabre. The plunder

mht be thed cket.

M Wther hddered. Tht holh.

When people have something to hide, they tend to put it


21/24


dramatic hiding place. It was tagged and neatly cataloged, along

wit ozns of ot igy siz is.

Miss Winther arranged the scones just so with a crisp linennkin in bskt, n bougt tm to t tb.

Tss took wm son, just to b oit.

It sounds as though you like your work, Miss Winther said.

Very much. Its everything to me. As she said the words

aloud, Tess felt a wave of excitement. The business was fast-

paced and unpredictable, and each day might bring an adrenalinerushor crushing disappointment. Tess was having a banner

year; her accomplishments were bringing her closer to the things

s v ik i n wtognition n suity.

That sounds just wonderful. Im certain youll get exactly

wt you ooking fo.

In this business, Im not always sure what that is. Tesssnk not gn t t ok on t stov.

Miss Wint noti. You v tim to finis you t.

Tess smiled, liking this woman almost in spite of herself. All

igt. Wou you ik m to v t ontt wit you o

Thats not necessary, the old lady said, touching the faceted

ink toz. I wont b sing tis.Tss bink, sook itt. Im soy, wt?

My mothers lavaliere. She pressed the piece against her

bosom. Its not fo s.

Tesss heart plummeted. With this piece, you could have

tot suity fo t st of you if.

Every last shred of security was stripped from me forever

by t Nzis, Miss Wint oint out. An yt I suviv.

Youv givn m bk my mots fvoit ting.

As you sy, its ting. An objt you ou tun into om-

fot n of min fo t st of you ys.

Im comfortable and secure now. And if you dont believe


22/24

Susan Wiggs32

ot mde the rht kd of memore. She rerded Te wth

kow ympthy.

Te tred ot to dwell o ll the hor hed pet comb

throh record d por over reerch order to mke the

restitution. If she thought about it too much, shed probably tear

out her hair in frustration. She tended to protect herself from

memore, bece memore mde pero vlerble.

You must think Im being a sentimental old fool. Miss

Winther nodded. I am. Its a privilege of old age. I have no

debt, o repoblte. Jt me d the ct. We lke or lfe

exctly t .

Te took p of tro te, erly wc t t bttere.

Oh! The sugar bowl. I forgot, said Miss Winther. Its in

the ptry, der. Wold yo md ett t?

The ptry coted collecto of dty c d jr, t

wll d helve clttered wth collectble, my of them tllber hdwrtte re le tcker.

Its just to the right there, said Miss Winther. On the spice

helf.

Tess picked up the small, footed bowl. Almost instantly, a tin-

gle of awareness passed through her. One of the first things shed

lered her profeo w to te to ometh kow the heft or feel of the piece. Something that was real and

thetc mply hd more btce th fke or kockoff.

She set the tarnished bowl on the table and tried to keep a

poker fce he tded the object. The weep of the hdle

and the effortless swell of the bowl were unmistakable. Even

the smoky streaks of age couldnt conceal the fact that the piecew terl, ot plte.

Tell me about this sugar bowl, she said, using the small

tongs to pick up a cube. Sugar tongs. They were even more

rre th the bowl.

Its handsome, isnt it? Miss Winther said. But the very


23/24


mind when I picked it up at a church rummage sale long ago.

Its bn s. Rummg ss v wys bn wknss

of mine. Im afraid Ive brought home any number of bright,

pretty things that just happened to catch my eye. Once I get

something home, though, its anyones guess whether or not Ill

tuy us it.

This is quite a find, Tess said, holding it up to check the

bottom, n sing t xt mk t.

In wt wy?

Could she really not know? Miss Winther, this bowl is aTiffny, n it s to b gnuin.

Goonss, you ont sy.

Theres a style known as the Empire set, very rare, produced

in a limited edition. Id have to do more research, but my sense

is, tis ou b xtmy vub. Not tt it wou mtt

to the old lady, who preferred her artifacts to cash. Its a lovelyi, gss, Tss on.

What a surprising aspect of your job, Miss Winther said,

clasping her hands in delight. Sometimes you stumble across a

tsu wn you ooking fo somting s ntiy.

Tess watched the sugar cube dissolve in her cup. It keeps my

job intsting.

Tell me, is this something your firm would sell? asked Miss

Wint.

Its possible, though even with the sugar tongs, a single

i

I int mn just t bow. I mnt t nti st.

Tss o soon on t tb wit tt. Ts

set?


24/24

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Documents

The Apple Orchard by Susan Wiggs - Chapter Sampler