Maggie and her unfailing dedication to the community were a big part of what had helped him feel connected to the town again. She had every right not to trust him, but he was bound and determined to convince her he deserved another chance. He’d be the kind of man who deserved her.
Even if that meant helping to convince that far-too-slick-for-Griffin’s-taste CEO to relocate his company there.
After just a few minutes in the guy’s presence, Griffin needed a beer. He’d texted his mom and she’d confirmed Joey was sound asleep. One quick drink before heading back couldn’t hurt.
He waved to Chuck, the bartender and longtime owner of the pub then slid onto one of the wooden stools in front of the bar.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice said, and Griffin suppressed a groan as he turned to see his brother, Trevor, in one of the booths that ran along the wall next to the bar.
“I called you earlier,” Griffin answered, slapping down a crisp bill on the bar when Chuck placed a beer in front of him.
“You two plan to meet up like this?” the bar owner asked with a knowing wink.
“Lucky coincidence,” Griffin muttered.
So much for a few minutes to unwind. He picked up the beer and moved to the booth, slipping in across from Trevor.
“To Christmas in Stonecreek,” his brother said, raising a glass of amber liquid for a toast.
“I thought you only drank wine,” Griffin told him.
“I’m making an exception for the holidays.” He lifted his glass and drained it. “One more, barkeep,” he shouted.
“Fine,” Chuck called back. “But I’m cutting you off after that.”
“I can walk home from here,” Trevor protested.
“Understood, but your mom will kill me if you end up sleeping on the sidewalk. I’m not convinced you won’t pass out on the way home.”
“I’ll make sure he gets there safely,” Griffin said, looking back toward the bar owner.
Trevor gave a loud chuckle. “That’s right. My big brother has my back. Ask anyone.” His bleary gaze settled on Griffin. “Like Maggie.”
“I thought we were past that.” Griffin adjusted his ball cap then took a long drink of beer.
“Me too.” Trevor shrugged. “You left again, and it hurt her.”
“That’s my problem,” Griffin said through clenched teeth.
“It’s not right,” Trevor continued as if Griffin hadn’t spoken. “You get to come and go whenever the mood suits you.”
“It wasn’t like that. Not this time or when I left years ago. You know that.”
“Do I?” Trevor flashed a grateful smile at the waitress who set his drink on the table. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“I’m off in an hour,” the young blonde told him with a subtle wink. “If you need an escort home, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Much appreciated,” Trevor told her. “But this night is all about brotherly love.”
The woman made a face.
“Not that kind of love,” Griffin clarified. “He’s too drunk to make any sense.”
“I make perfect sense,” Trevor countered. “You just don’t want to hear the truth.” He leaned forward across the table. “You can’t handle the truth,” he said, doing a really pathetic Jack Nicholson impression.
The waitress laughed then turned away.
“What the hell is going on with you?” Griffin demanded. “You never drink like this.”
“I got offered a job today,” Trevor blurted then sucked in a breath. He lifted the glass then set it down again. “I turned it down.”
“What kind of job?”
“Marketing director for Calico Winery.”
Griffin whistled softly. “That’s huge, Trev. Calico is the biggest and the best when it comes to Sonoma vineyards.”
“Don’t remind me,” his brother whispered.
“You didn’t even consider taking the job?”
“How could I when I’m going to have so much fun working for you?” Trevor held out his hands. “You can take off for over a decade, show up for a few months then disappear again and still...” He pointed an angry finger at Griffin. “Still Mom and Marcus want you to take the helm. I’ve been here toiling away, trying to make a name for Harvest and no one even gives a rip.”
“That’s not true.”
“I have plans for the vineyard,” Trevor continued. “Plans to make us the biggest organic-certified producer in the Oregon wine industry. All I get is pushback for any idea I bring forward.”
Griffin dragged a hand along his jaw, unsure of the best way to have this conversation with his brother, especially in Trevor’s current state. They’d never been exactly close, not with their father’s affection and approval so clearly favoring Trevor.
Dave Stone hadn’t done either of his boys any favors with his preferential treatment of his younger son. Instead, he’d subtly pitted one brother against the other. Griffin had loved the vines, but Trevor had been the company’s heir apparent.
Now that things were changing, Griffin understood it was a difficult pill to swallow. He also appreciated Trevor’s dilemma. As angry as Griffin had been when his dad had all but kicked him out of their lives, it ultimately had been something of a blessing. He’d had a few years to make his own way in the world. He’d joined the army and then worked in construction around much of the Pacific Northwest. When he finally made his way back to Stonecreek, despite his varying emotions about this place, he knew in his heart the choice to stay would be his.
Trevor never had that choice.
“Maybe your plans are bigger than what Harvest can hold,” he suggested quietly.
“Because you want to get rid of me?” Trevor’s lip curled into an angry sneer.
“Because I want you to be happy.”
Trevor’s head snapped back like Griffin had punched him. “Why do you think Dad acted the way he did with the two of us?” he asked after a long moment.
Griffin sighed. He’d only recently learned the whole truth around the start of their parents’ marriage. “Mom got pregnant with me to trap him into marrying her.” It pained him to say the words, both because of the shadow it cast over his mother’s character and what it said about how wanted he’d been as a baby. Which was not very much, at least by his dad.
“But he loved her,” Trevor said, shaking his head and looking suddenly far more sober than he had a few minutes earlier. “Why would it matter how things started? And you had nothing to do with any of that.”
“I don’t quite understand it,” Griffin admitted, “and Dad isn’t saying much from beyond the grave.”
“Damn, Grif,” Trevor muttered.
“It wasn’t easy for Mom to share it with me.” He took another drink of beer then laughed. “Although it was better than the explanation I’d come up with on my own, which basically boiled down to questioning whether Dad was my real father.”
Trevor made a face. “You look like Mom, but you’re a chip off the old paternal personality block.”
“Maybe, but I’d had fantasies as a kid of some Clint Eastwood–type guy showing up and claiming me as his own.” He shrugged. “I could imagine every moment up until the point where I had to leave Harvest. Then it got fuzzy.”
“You left anyway.”
“Dad and I would have torn each other apart if I’d stayed.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry you felt like you didn’t have a choice in the path your life took, Trev.”
His brother massaged two fingers against his forehead. “It seemed like one rebel in the family was enough.”
“You do have a choice.” Griffin sat up straighter. “I’m not trying to push you out. If you want to stay at Harvest, we’ll find a way to run the business together. But Calico might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No one would blame you for wanting to do something
for yourself at this point.”
“You want to check with Mom before you start making promises?”
“I don’t need to,” Griffin insisted. “She’s not like Dad. You know that. She wants you to be happy, no matter how that looks or where it takes you.”
Trevor leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest. “I always figured the family business was my only option. Dad made it clear—”
“He’s gone,” Griffin interrupted then shook his head. “The old man did a number on both of us, but I have to believe he meant well in his own narcissistic way. You can’t let everything that came before dictate what comes next for you. You have big ideas and you’re damn good at what you do.”
“I love it,” Trevor said softly. He looked down at the drink in front of him then added, “But I want more. I want to take the job.”
Griffin nodded. “We’ll talk to Mom in the morning, explain what’s going to happen. She’ll understand. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Thank you.” Trevor’s gaze lifted to Griffin’s and there was a mix of anticipation and relief in that familiar gaze that made Griffin’s chest ache. Why hadn’t they talked like this before now? They’d lost so many years... Griffin had wasted so much time on anger and resentment. He hated himself for it, but all he could do now was vow to change.
“You ready to head home?”
Trevor rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to end up passed out on the sidewalk.”
“Let me walk with you anyway. I have some big brothering to catch up on.”
“Fine,” Trevor grumbled but he didn’t seem upset by Griffin’s insistence. “I’m holding you to the offer to be there when I talk to Mom. She’s going to freak out.”
Griffin thought about their mother’s calm reaction when he brought Joey home with him. “I think she’ll handle it okay,” he told Trevor with a smile.
They each climbed out of the booth, waved to Chuck and headed out into the cold December night.
Chapter Three
Jana opened the front door the following morning and felt her jaw go slack. Instead of her younger son, who Griffin had told her would be stopping to discuss something with both of them, Jim Spencer stood on the other side.
Her hand automatically lifted to smooth the hair away from her face. She wore no makeup and was afraid she looked every day of her fifty years. Joey’d had another nightmare at three in the morning. She and Griffin had spent over an hour trying to get him back to sleep, resulting in very little rest for Jana after that.
She stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. Griffin was working in the office that had been her late husband’s, a room off the kitchen, while Joey remained asleep. Although she didn’t approve of Griffin keeping Joey a secret from Maggie, she respected that the decision was his. Obviously, he wouldn’t want Maggie’s father discovering the boy before he was ready to share the news himself.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her tone harsher than she meant it to be.
Jim frowned, inclining his head to study her. He’d always had a contemplative air about him, the soul of an artist even before he became the renowned sculptor he was today.
“Are you okay, Jana?” he asked softly, reaching out a finger to gently trace the frown line between her eyes. A fat lot of good that would do. One of her friends had recently suggested a dermatologist in Portland who was known to be an expert with Botox. Jana had smiled and said she liked that her face told a story. Now she wished she’d called for an appointment.
“Fine,” she answered, shifting away from his touch, which still elicited a tingling along her spine, much as it had when they’d been teenagers. Only she was nowhere near the naive girl she’d once been. “Griffin is on a call,” she lied, “so he needs quiet.”
Jim nodded, although the excuse was lame even to her ears. The old farmhouse was plenty big to accommodate the two of them without disturbing her son.
“We’d scheduled a meeting to discuss your commission,” he said, holding up a slim file folder. “I did initial sketches and pulled some ideas into a file for you to review.”
Right. The commission for a sculpture she’d discussed with him at the hospital fund-raiser she’d chaired over a month ago. What had she been thinking?
That she wanted something for herself.
That she wanted to feel alive again.
That she wanted another chance with the man who’d broken her heart over three decades earlier.
Jana kept her features placid even as panic and embarrassment washed over her in equal measure. She’d like to blame her impulsive request that he create a sculpture for the vineyard on the emotional highs and lows of menopause. What else could explain reaching out to Jim?
She’d moved on from her first lost love. For heaven sakes, they’d lived in the same town for years and she hadn’t revisited her feelings.
“I’m sorry,” she said coolly. “I know we agreed to meet after the Thanksgiving holiday, but I’ve been busy.” She licked her dry lips. “Griffin had a rough time while he was away.”
Jim’s gentle eyes hardened as he shook his head. “I can’t bring myself to have any sympathy for him. Not after what he did to Maggie.”
“I know he feels terrible for hurting her.”
“He’s a scumbag.”
“Jim.”
“You’d think the same if our positions were reversed.”
“Like when Maggie walked out on Trevor minutes before the wedding?”
One thick eyebrow lifted. “Because she discovered he was cheating on her. I hardly think it’s the same thing.”
She shook her head. “I hate that my sons have hurt your daughter.”
“I’m afraid Maggie is somehow paying the karmic price for how I hurt you once upon a time.”
“That isn’t how karma works,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to manage anything steadier. It was the first time he’d acknowledged the pain he’d caused. “We both moved on a long time ago, made our own lives.”
He turned, looked out toward the view of the fields below. She’d always loved how the old farmhouse was situated so that from every window she could see the rows of vines thriving in the rich, loamy soil of Central Oregon’s Willamette Valley. Her late husband had resented the farm and everything it stood for. Even though Dave had made a success of the land he’d inherited, he’d never been truly happy here. He’d longed for adventure and excitement, not the relentless life of a vintner.
But Jana was content, at least as much as she could be with the turmoil that had always brewed between Dave and Griffin, slowly escalating until she couldn’t seem to find a way to bridge the chasm between her husband and their older son.
“I still think about you,” he said, although the words were almost swallowed by the cold winter wind that suddenly whipped up from the valley. His graying hair blew across his face as he stared at her, his eyes still the color of the sand where it met the sea. God, those eyes had mesmerized her when she’d been younger. He’d mesmerized her.
“I think about us,” he continued. “You’re as beautiful as the day we first met, Jana.”
She laughed out loud at that bit of ridiculousness. “I’m old, Jim.”
“Not to me.”
“I hate to break it to you,” she said with another laugh. “But you’re old too.”
The breeze blew again, and she shivered, as much from the cold air as the intensity of his gaze on hers.
“You shouldn’t be out here without a coat. Can I come inside?” He stepped closer, his big body blocking the brunt of the wind. He was well over six feet tall, and while the height had made him gangly as a young man, he now seemed perfectly comfortable in his own skin. She found it undeniably attractive. “It’s business.” He paused then added, “For now.”
The door opened behind her, and she turned to find Joey s
tanding at the entrance to the house. He rubbed his eyes with one hand while the other clutched the worn blanket he took everywhere.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said, stepping away from Jim with a furtive look in his direction.
“It’s cold,” the boy observed. “You need a coat.”
“So I’ve been told,” she murmured. “I’ll be inside in a minute. Griffin’s in the office next to the kitchen. Do you remember how to get there?”
Joey nodded then said, “I dreamed about Mommy last night. She was an angel.”
A lump formed in Jana’s throat. “Your mommy is an angel,” she confirmed. “She’ll always be with you that way.”
“I gotta pee.” Joey looked around her to where Jim stood, his jaw slack.
“That happens in the morning,” Jim confirmed, a confused half smile curving one side of his mouth.
The boy disappeared into the house, slamming shut the door.
“Right now isn’t the best time for me,” Jana said, reluctantly meeting his curious gaze. “Is it okay if I text you later in the week?”
“Who’s the boy?”
She bit down on her lower lip. “It’s complicated, Jim, and I’m not sure Griffin wants anyone to know about Joey. He hasn’t even told Trevor yet. I’m the only one—”
“Who is he?” The question was more insistent this time.
“The son of Griffin’s ex-girlfriend, the one he left town to see.” She shook her head. “See isn’t the right word. Cassie was dying. She asked Griffin to become Joey’s guardian.”
She watched as Jim sucked in a sharp breath, his expression going blank. It wasn’t like him. Normally every emotion he felt played across his strong features. At least that’s how she remembered him. What did she really know at this point?
“Surely he’s told Maggie about the boy?” He ran a hand through his hair. “She hasn’t mentioned anything but—”
“She doesn’t know,” Jana confirmed. “Like I said—”
“I can’t keep this from her. She has a right to—”
“No.” Jana crossed her arms over her chest, wishing the ruby-colored turtleneck she wore was thicker. “You can’t tell her anything.”
A Stonecreek Christmas Reunion Page 4