by Jane Peart
"I would indeed," Louis said.
Addie could hardly keep from laughing, but she gave Brook a "You, rascal!" glance and murmured a discreet "Thank you."
"It must be the wonders of our climate here at the Silver Springs Resort—even the air has a certain quality!" Brook made a circular gesture with both hands as if embracing the universe. Then he looked at the carriage and let out a low whistle. "That's a splendid vehicle, Mr. Montand. New is it?"
"Just delivered to me yesterday," Louis said proudly running a hand possessively along the narrow strip of gold trim. "Rubber-rimmed wheels," he pointed to the bright yellow spoked wheels.
"It's certainly a fine-looking carriage. Haven't seen one like it in the valley," Brook said decisively. "Well, I must be off. Good day to you both." He nodded and walked away.
Louis turned back to Addie. "Miss Pride, I drove over this morning hoping I could entice you to drive out to the house with me? Have lunch?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Montand. But I can't. I have only one day a week free, Thursdays."
"Tomorrow? Well then, we'll make it tomorrow. Shall we plan that tomorrow I'll come for you and we'll drive out to the house?"
"Again, I'm sorry. But I have already accepted an invitation for this Thursday."
An annoyed expression came over Louis's face. At first she thought he might demand to know with whom she had made plans. But his good manners prevented such a breach of etiquette.
"Next Thursday, then?" It was more a statement than a question. "I want so much for you to see the house—"
Over his shoulder Addie saw Mrs. Amberly and her bathhouse attendant approaching. When she saw who was with Addie, Mrs. Amberly immediately quickened her step, waving her hand and calling, "Oh, Mr. Montand, hello! How nice to see you. I've been wondering about you and your sister—"
Louis stifled a groan, rolled his eyes before he turned to reply to Mrs. Amberly.
She was huffing and puffing as she came up to them. "So what brings you over to Silver Springs from your lovely new home?" she asked coyly.
"To see if I could persuade your charming companion to take a drive with me," he said blandly.
Mrs. Amberly's hopeful look vanished as she realized the invitation did not include her. Her disappointment showed on her face. "Well she can't," she snapped. As Louis lifted his eyebrows, she must have realized how rude she had sounded because she quickly changed her tone of voice. "I'm afraid, Miss Pride will be very busy. I have a lot of correspondence for her to take care of for me this afternoon. Now, if you'll excuse me." She glared at Addie, then went past them onto the porch, leaning on the attendant's arm. The cottage door banged.
Addie dared not glance at Louis whom she sensed was amused at the woman's behavior. To avert his saying anything derogatory about her employer, Addie hastened to say, "Thank you anyway, it was most kind of you to ask."
"Next Thursday, then, please," Louis persisted.
Addie had some real reservations about encouraging Louis's attentions. But she was angry at the high-handed manner in which Mrs. Amberly had jumped in and refused Louis's invitation for her. Addie was furious, in fact. She may as well be a servant! Then she thought how it would annoy her employer if she got to see Chateau Montand first! On impulse, knowing hers was not the noblest of motives, Addie said, "Why, yes, that would be lovely." Later she worried that she had acted against her better judgment.
Louis looked enormously pleased which soothed her conscience a little. But not much.
After the noon meal, on the way out of the dining hall, Mrs. Amberly stopped to chat with someone and Brook followed Addie outside.
"Well?"
"Well what?" she asked innocently.
"You know very well what! How did the experiment go? Did you like it or what?"
Addie squinted her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and shook her head, "Ugh, awful!"
His face fell. He looked so startled, so taken aback that Addie could not contain herself. She burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Brook! I was teasing! It was ... words fail me. You are right—it is a unique experience. Once women get over the initial shock of getting into that gooey mess, they're going to love it."
Brook flashed a triumphant smile. "I knew it. Now, I've got to build a special building just to house the tubs, the resting rooms, and then I have to train attendants—it will take time and money—lots of money." He frowned, "But that's usually not a problem. It's selling the idea to the right people." His grin broadened. "Thank you, Addie, you're a trump."
Addie watched him walk away, his hands in his pockets, whistling like a schoolboy. What other new idea was he dreaming up now?
Chapter 9
After breakfast on Thursday morning Mrs. Amberly began to give Addie a list of errands she wanted done when Addie interrupted politely. "Excuse me, Mrs. Amberly, you must have forgotten this is my day off. I've been invited out to Mrs. Wegner's today for lunch. She will be coming for me in a few minutes. Maybe I can take care of these things tomorrow? Or if there is something urgent, perhaps we could send one of the hotel employees to town for you?"
Mrs. Amberly's mouth went slack. Her face creased with annoyance. "Seems like every time I want something done it's your day off."
"It is only one day a week, Mrs. Amberly. Thursday," Addie reminded her quietly.
"Humph," Mrs. Amberly, unappeased, grunted. "Where did you say you were going?"
Addie felt like retorting, "That's none of your business." But she controlled the urge and answered calmly, "To Freda Wegner's, Mrs. Amberly. You remember, the lady we met the evening we were having dinner with the Montands?"
"Oh, yes! Her! The widow woman who runs her own ranch and winery!" Mrs. Amberly sneered.
Addie stiffened at Mrs. Amberly's reaction. As though Freda ran a tavern or worse! She pressed her fingers together tightly, willing the inquisition to be over so she could be on her way.
Looking like she had taken a bite of a green apple, Mrs. Amberly pursed her lips and said, "I don't know whether I approve of your cultivating friendships on your own. You realize, don't you, that what you do, where you go, who you associate with reflects on me."
With effort Addie checked her rising indignation. What right did Mrs. Amberly think she had to talk to her this way? But she managed to keep her voice cool as she replied, "Even servants are free to go where they please and choose their own friends, Mrs. Amberly. And you need have no fear of my association with Mrs. Wegner reflecting badly on you. She is a respected citizen of this town, well-known to Mr. Stanton as well as Mr. Rexford Lyon, whom you also met the same evening. Besides they were both invited guests of the Montands to their farewell party."
This seemed to silence Mrs. Amberly momentarily although she still looked sullen.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Amberly, Mrs. Wegner is probably waiting for me." Addie turned to leave.
"Just a minute, young lady," Mrs. Amberly called her back. "Don't forget if I wasn't paying your expenses here you wouldn't even have the opportunity to meet people of the class of the Montands...."
Literally biting her tongue Addie left the room. Outside in the hall she could still hear her employer muttering. Sending up a desperate plea for patience, Addie hurried to her own room to get her bonnet and shawl. By the time she was halfway across the grounds she saw Freda Wegner in a small "piano-box" buggy coming through the Silver Springs gate.
As they set out from town Addie noticed the countryside just beginning to take on the look of spring. A pale green aura softened the bare branches of the trees on either side of the road leading to Freda's ranch, berry bushes showed their tiny white star blossoms. As they passed the hillsides of vineyards, Addie exclaimed, "It's so beautiful," pointing to the fields, golden with blossoming mustard plants.
"As well as good for the earth. The mustard will be plowed under, but it enriches the soil, giving it needed nutrients for the grapes."
Soon they turned off the main road onto a narrow winding one marked with a sign that said WEGNER
WINERY. Freda's house, a yellow frame Victorian, was cradled in a wooded dell surrounded by oak and eucalyptus trees, behind it a vineyard planted in precise neat rows sloped down the hillside.
Freda reined the horse to a stop in front of the porch, trimmed with decorative white wooden lace. A smiling, swarthy man in work clothes, whom Freda addressed as "Rico," came from around the back to take the horse and small buggy to the barn and Freda invited Addie inside.
From the small entrance hall she led the way through sliding doors into a small but elegantly furnished parlor. Luxurious green ferns hung in the bow window and fresh flowers filled the room with scent and color.
"What a charming house."
"Thank you. I enjoy it myself. Since I don't have much company, that's so nice to hear." Freda gestured to one of two armchairs covered in flowered chintz. "Do sit down, Miss Pride."
"Please call me Addie—most of my friends do."
"Well, then, Addie you must call me Freda, because I'd like us to be friends. Would you like tea before lunch? Or perhaps a sherry?"
"Oh, tea would be fine."
"I hope that my asking if you'd have wine didn't shock you? Here in the valley, it's very appropriate for a vintner to offer the fruit of her vine to guests. Of course, I'm still not used to my status." Freda shrugged. "You see, I'm the first and only woman vintner in the valley, probably in California, and it's something I never dreamed I'd be when I came here as a bride, believe me."
Freda walked over to the door and called down the hall. "Elena!" In a few minutes, a pretty, dark-haired girl with huge, black olive eyes, small gold hoops swinging from her ears, stuck her head in the parlor door.
"Please bring us some tea, Elena, and since it's such a lovely day, I think you could serve us lunch out on the side porch. Would you like that, Miss Pride—I mean, Addie?"
"Oh, yes, that would be delightful. I can't get over how warm it is here in March—like summer really."
"Good. Then we'll eat out there, Elena," Freda told the maid then seated herself. "As I was saying, running the vineyards and winery by myself was the last thing I ever imagined myself doing. We came here shortly after our marriage, mainly for Jason's health. The climate was recommended as beneficial, and we found it so. But Jason had a dream. He was the last of his family, you see. His father had recently died, and he had an inheritance. He wanted to put down roots of his own, something for the children we hoped to have...." An expression of sadness moved across her thin face.
Freda halted as Elena entered with a tray. She smiled shyly at Addie and set it down on the low table in front of her mistress. After the girl left Freda poured the tea, saying, "So, we bought this ranch. We were told that some fine French vines were already planted on the land. Everyone who seemed to know told us that good root stock, such as we'd purchased was half the battle in the successful growing of wine grapes."
Freda handed Addie her cup, offered her cream and sugar. "Of course, we were neophytes at the whole business, so we took everything at face value. In time we found that it also takes knowledge of the land, care, cultivation, and patience." She stirred sugar into her own cup and for a moment seemed thoughtful before going on.
"We had all the enthusiasm and excitement of youth, but Jason did not have the physical strength necessary for what we'd undertaken. He would be up at daybreak, work in the fields along with some of the Californios he hired to help. Eventually his health broke and he was very ill. I had to take over much of the overseeing of the vineyards and—" She gave a deep sigh "—I tried to keep Jason's spirits up; one of the side effects of tuberculosis is often depression."
"That must have been very hard," Addie commented gently.
"It wasn't easy but ...," Freda paused, then continued matter-of-factly, "women are brought up to believe we cannot do certain things. It's etched on our inner selves from the time we are given a doll instead of the interesting set of building blocks our brothers receive. We're told over and over we can't calculate or decipher—in other words, not to even dare dream of all sorts of wonderful things, barred to us simply because of our sex.
"My husband, thank God, was not of that school. He didn't distrust or fear the fact I was intelligent. He gave me credit for good judgment, and he was not afraid to give me responsibility—when he was alive. I believe he trusted that if something happened to him, I'd carry on what he had envisioned here...." She sighed. "Of course neither of us imagined it would come so soon."
Freda's mouth tightened visibly, and Addie did not press her further, sensing that further talk about Jason Wegner's death would be too painful. Freda paused. "Even after Jason died things would have been all right. We had had two years of good grapes. The winery had the possibility of producing a superior vintage. Then—disaster struck! Phylloxera."
"Phylloxera?"
"A hideous blight on the vines. A voracious microscopic louse, usually hidden beneath the soil. It destroyed all our French grapevines. American rootstock is resistant because of years of exposure, but the European varieties were susceptible to it, and we had mostly the French kind." She took a last sip of tea, then set down her cup. "I don't know what I would have done without the help and support of friends. Especially Rex. Rexford Lyon. You met him the other evening at Silver Springs when we went there to dine."
At the mention of that name Addie's fingers tightened on the delicate handle of her teacup. Of course, Freda had no idea that there was no need to remind Addie who Rex Lyon was. Not a day had gone by since her arrival at the Calistoga depot that Addie had not thought of him. Perhaps now she'd find out exactly what his relationship to Freda Wegner was. She leaned forward half-dreading what Freda would say next.
"Even though Rex never wanted to come back to the valley, never wanted to be a vintner, he is very knowledgeable, very dedicated. A double family tragedy brought him back to run the vineyards and winery. Lyon's Court wines are famous throughout California. He took up the reins and has done a wonderful job." Freda paused, then said thoughtfully, "It's strange, isn't it? How sometimes Providence brings us to a place, into situations we would never have chosen on our own, but in the end, that place or situation turns out to be exactly what was supposed to happen?"
After a moment, Freda said thoughtfully, "I worry about Rex though. I don't think he's very happy."
Whatever else Freda was going to say about Rex was interrupted by Elena's coming to say lunch was ready.
On the porch during lunch the conversation turned to other subjects. Complimenting Freda on the delicious dessert of luscious strawberries piled on sponge cake covered with sweet whipped cream, Addie learned that growing flowers and fruit was one of Freda's many other interests.
"I love it here in the valley. Everything I enjoy is here in abundance," Freda said enthusiastically. "It's very different than the life I lived in the city before I was married." She told Addie that she had been the only child of an indulgent widowed father. She had been reared to marry well, to marry someone in her own set so that they could take their place in society. "But the best laid plans and all that," Freda sighed. "Jason's health was the reason we came here in the first place, and now I can't imagine living anywhere else. There's so much freedom. Especially for women. Can you see me wearing this any other place?" she laughed and got up to model what she was wearing. "See the skirt is divided so I can ride horseback astride instead of sidesaddle." She showed how the brown twill skirt was cleverly made. "It's wonderful for all the things I like to do—like squatting and kneeling when I'm gardening and of course horseback riding. I'll give you the pattern if you'd like."
The two young women found they had much else in common besides flowers, fruit, and fashion. They discovered a mutual love of reading, both novels and poetry, as well as an enjoyment of music. They were discussing their reactions to Madame DeSecia's concert when they saw a small one-horse trap coming up the winding road to the house.
"Why, it's Rex!" Freda got up, went to the porch railing, and waved. "How nice."
Addie clasped her hands tightly together, her heart tripping within her starched blouse. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to draw a long breath. When she opened them Rexford Lyon stood at the top of the porch steps.
"You remember Miss Pride, Rex; we met her with the Montands at Silver Springs hotel. I told you on the way home from their party that I was going to ask her out...."
Addie did not hear what else Freda told him. She was too conscious of his slow smile, his eyes acknowledging her. It was almost as if he was saying, "Of course I know her. I feel as if I've always known her." In reality, she heard his deep, mellow voice say, "Yes, indeed, I remember. A pleasure to see you again, Miss Pride."
The words spoken in quiet courtesy fell on Addie like a caress. Oh, foolish, foolish girl! She felt as though she were swimming in deep water, trying desperately to reach shore. She felt as if she might drown. Get hold of yourself! Say something!
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lyon."
"Rex, you'll stay awhile?" Freda asked. "Have some coffee with us, won't you?"
"That would be fine, Freda, thank you." His eyes never left Addie.
"Good, I'll go make some fresh."
Freda immediately disappeared carrying the coffee pot, and Addie was left alone with Rex.
He lowered himself into one of the white wicker armchairs, settling himself more comfortably. He took off his wide-brimmed hat and put it under the chair. Addie was suddenly aware of everything about him: the high-bridged nose, the strength of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the tawny streak of hair, the narrow white line on his forehead against his tanned face, probably made from wearing his hat out in the sun. She was even conscious of the combined scents of leather, sun-bleached cotton, and tobacco that emanated from him.
She felt nervous perspiration gathering in her palms. Attempting to appear composed, she sat up straighter, wiping her hand surreptitiously on her skirt. With her hands demurely folded in her lap, Addie tried to catch one of the random thoughts floating through her head with which to start some sort of conversation.