“I do. It’s a lot better than I expected.” I wasn’t lying.
“Told you I know how to make wine.”
“Do you though?” I asked. “This is a lot, Jake.”
“I know enough. Come on, Tessy. It’s an adventure. And besides, we have help. Sara has a guy coming who used to work here helping Carl. Back when the place was in its prime. He knows his way around. He should be coming in sometime tomorrow to show us the ropes for a while.”
Sitting out here at the small bistro table among the twinkling lights and the sound of crickets chirping, I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time. But I was still tense with worry for Jake.
“Did I hear you right earlier?” I asked. “Did you say there isn’t any wine here?”
“No, I said there’s nothing bottled. Something’s been aging in the barrels. Of course, I’m not sure what it is. Or how long it’s been there. Or if it’s any good. Or how to bottle it. But that’s what Thatcher is for.”
“Thatcher?”
“Sara’s guy.”
“Oh, right.” I slipped my shoes off and pulled my legs up into my chair. “So what’s the plan?”
“The plan is to make money,” he said. “As soon as possible. So I can prove to Sara we can stay and make this our home.”
“You want to make money at a vineyard? With no wine?”
“Maybe wine, maybe not. We’ll know more soon. But yes. That’s the plan. If we’re going to stay here, we have to turn a profit. Fast. See why I need you, Tessy?”
“Jake… I don’t know.”
“You’ll think of something.”
“It’s unrealistic to—”
“Just relax and let it come to you.”
“I can’t—”
Jake clapped his hand over my mouth like he used to do when we were kids. We looked at each other with wild, smiling eyes. Finally, I bit his hand.
“Ow!”
“You knew it was coming.”
We laughed and sat in comfortable silence for a while.
“Jake?” My voice was almost a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“My life is falling apart.”
Without saying a word, he slid his chair over next to mine and put his arm around me. I rested my head on his shoulder.
“I lost my job,” I said. “I think I lost Logan, too.”
“Don’t you worry about old Britches. You’re better off without him.”
“I love him, Jake. I love him so much.”
“Chin up, buttercup.”
Chin up, buttercup. It was something our father always said to me. In fact, it was the last thing he said to me before Jake and I lost him a few weeks before our twentieth birthday.
I was a wreck in the days after the funeral. Before we got in our cars to go our separate ways back to school, Jake said those words to me. “Chin up, buttercup.” Ever since, he would say it from time to time as a reminder to me. A reminder to breathe. To go easy on myself. To look on the bright side.
I sighed. “Easier said than done.”
He shrugged. “If it’s meant to be, it will be.” To Jake, life was that simple. How did he do it? How did he wander around this world without a care? How did everything always seem to fall into place for him? Why had I spent my whole life running uphill only to end up with… nothing?
“I was going to be director of marketing.” I swirled the wine around in my glass.
“You want to be director of marketing, Tessy? Congratulations, you’re my director of marketing.”
“Jake…”
“I’m serious. You can put it on your resume. I’ll make you business cards and everything. Of course, we have to name the place before I can make you business cards.”
“What?”
“We have to name the place.”
“This place?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“It doesn’t even have a name?”
“Nope. We’re in the backwoods, down-home country. Around here, back in its heyday, people called the place Carl’s, but it was never official. Some of the local restaurants and produce stands kept him in business. They knew where to find him.”
“Well things are different now. You can’t have a vineyard without a name, Jake.”
“So name it, then.”
“I can’t pull a name out of thin air,” I said. “It has to mean something.”
Jake shrugged again. “It will come to you.”
“You’re impossible!”
“Maybe so. I’m also tired. You ready to call it a night?”
“Almost. Go ahead. I think I’ll sit out here for a little longer. It’s so pretty.”
“Okay. Good night.” He got up, took the wine glasses into the kitchen, and then peeked his head back through the French doors. “Hey, Tessy? Watch out for bears.”
I laughed.
“No, seriously. Watch out for bears.”
I scrambled inside and slammed the door behind me.
CHAPTER 5
I awoke as light flooded into the cottage and gave the whole room a tropical glow. I rolled over in bed and looked out the windows where the sun peeked over the mountains. The sky was streaked with pink. It was gorgeous.
Jake was right. I did need a vacation.
I stretched for a while, then got up and shuffled my way over to the bathroom. It wasn’t so much a bathroom as it was a tub, toilet, and sink positioned in the corner of the cottage, with a white linen curtain which could be pulled for privacy. I filled the tub with hot water. While the water ran, I started the coffeepot and made the bed, carefully arranging the pillows until they were just as I’d found them the night before.
Less than ten minutes later, I sat soaking in the tub with the curtain open so I could enjoy the spectacular view of the wildflowers and the mountains on the horizon. I sipped my coffee and wiggled my toes in the water, relaxing against the back of the tub and closing my eyes.
I imagined this really was a vacation. Just a little getaway from the demands of being director of marketing at Stevenson. It felt good to daydream. So good that I allowed myself to take it one step further.
I imagined this wasn’t a guest cottage, but a bridal suite. And over there on the pedestal sink, my enormous, sparkling engagement ring was soaking in a cup of cleaning solution. And rather than helping Jake with his impossible dream, I was here to prepare for my wedding. It would be a private, elegant affair with our closest family and friends in attendance. The ceremony would be held in the barn, which would be transformed with tall candelabras everywhere and an aisle made of rose petals. The reception would be held under a big white tent in the open field, and the mountains would be in the background of every photo. We’d set up a dance floor under the stars, and when the sun went down, there’d be twinkle lights as far as the eye could see.
A bubbly feeling of bliss welled up inside me. I knew it wasn’t real, but I lingered in my daydream for a moment, where everything was beautiful and as it should be. I sighed. This would be the perfect place for a wedding.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I sprang from my reclining position, sitting straight up in the tub and causing a small tidal wave of bathwater to splash onto the floor.
This would be the perfect place for a wedding.
Weddings! The vineyard needed to book weddings. That was how we’d get things back up and running.
“Just relax and let it come to you,” Jake said the night before. He was right. Once again, he was right. I couldn’t wait to tell him.
I jumped up and grabbed my towel off the hook on the wall, wrapping it around my body and tucking it into a knot near my armpit. Then, I turned around to step out of the tub and came eye-to-eye with a strange man standing right outside the French doors and staring at me.
I screamed and pulled the curtain.
My pulse raced. Was I seeing things? No, he was there all right. And it occurred to me I recognized the man’s eyes. They were the exact same striking blue eyes from ye
sterday. I was sure of it.
But why would that man be here, standing around and spying on me in broad daylight?
Because he must be crazy, I realized. He could be a stalker for all I knew. And I gave him my address. What had I been thinking?
I needed to get out of here. I needed to get to the house. But I was trapped. My phone was all the way across the room, and I forgot to charge it last night.
A few seconds later, with my heart still pounding, I pulled the curtain back just enough to peek out with one eye and see if the man was still there.
He was gone.
I’d never gotten dressed so quickly in my life. I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out the first thing I could find: a pair of jean shorts and a linen blouse. I threw on my clothes with my back pressed to the wall, keeping an eye on the windows in case the man came back. I stepped into the pair of slip-on wedge sandals I wore yesterday and ran out the door.
On the way to the main house, I looked over my shoulder every few steps as I trotted along the stone path. The back door was unlocked, and I flung it open. “Jake? Sara?” I called out for them, but there was no answer. Oh no. Had he gotten to them first? My knees trembled with the electric sensation of fear. I raced to the counter where I left my car keys. They were still there. A note was tucked underneath them.
Come down to the barn. We have breakfast.
Sara signed it with a smiley face.
I felt a moment of relief. And then, it occurred to me: what if the strange man wrote this note? What if it was a trap?
I couldn’t stay here and wait for him to find me, but I wasn’t about to go anywhere unarmed, either. At home, I kept a can of pepper spray handy for situations like these. But I hadn’t brought it with me because I didn’t dream I’d need it here. I grabbed my keys, along with a big butcher knife from the block on the countertop, and sprinted to my car. I sped down the driveway as quickly as possible given its steep grade and winding turns, and screeched to a halt in front of the barn. I clutched the knife by my side as I entered the barn with cautious steps.
A rustling sound came from behind the bar. For a moment, I thought about running out of there. But what if the intruder had tied up Jake? What if he needed my help? I crept toward the sound. A shadowy figure appeared behind the sheet of plastic covering the doorway behind the bar.
I screamed.
“Tessy?”
Jake pulled the plastic aside and stepped through the opening, followed by Sara.
A man popped up from under the counter. But not just any man. The man, the one from the firehouse who’d been stalking me moments before.
I screamed again.
“Tessy, what’s gotten into you? This is Thatcher. Sara’s friend? The guy I told you about last night?”
The stalker, who I supposed wasn’t a stalker after all, made eye contact with me for a moment, and then looked down, pretending to be engrossed in something on the floor.
“Oh.” I took a step back. “You startled me.”
He mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
My pulse returned to normal. I was relieved to know this guy was a friend of Sara’s. And yet, it didn’t explain why he’d been spying on me. In the bathtub no less. I was debating whether to say anything about the matter when Sara spoke up.
“Tess? You’re carrying a knife.”
I glanced at the knife. “Oh… yeah.”
“Why?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Because… because there was something very… creepy lurking around the cottage.”
“What?” Sara asked.
“Probably a bear,” Jake said.
Thatcher coughed as if he were trying to conceal a laugh.
I stiffened. Is this guy serious? He spies on me, sends me into a panic attack, and now he’s laughing at me? What a sleaze.
Jake put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not going to fight a bear off with a knife, Tessy.”
I looked at Thatcher and narrowed my eyes. “Wanna bet?”
He didn’t seem to notice me glaring at him.
Sara held out her hand. “I was about to run back up and get something to cut the watermelon, anyway.” I passed her the knife and she disappeared through the plastic door. I stepped behind the bar and followed her into the back room.
This must be where they once bottled the wine.
There was a long countertop and an industrial sink lining one wall. A few pieces of steel equipment were positioned in one corner of the room, dusty from years of rest. Several crates of empty wine bottles were stacked in another corner.
Sara sliced into a small watermelon. “How’d you sleep, Tess?”
“Oh, amazing. I love the cottage.”
“It’s pretty great, isn’t it?”
Before I could answer, Jake called out to Sara. “Hey babe? The lawyer called. He’s dropping by so we can sign those papers.”
“When?” she asked.
“Ten minutes,” he said.
“Honestly!” She plunked the knife down on the counter and turned to me. “Sorry, Tess. We have to run up to the house. Carl’s estate lawyer has one last thing for us.”
“No problem,” I said.
“Why don’t you stay here and get to know Thatcher a little bit?”
“Oh. No, I—”
“We’ll be right back.”
Less than five minutes later I sat on the bar in the tasting room, dangling my legs over the edge and chewing a bagel alongside Thatcher. Neither of us had spoken since Sara and Jake left. The longer we sat in silence, the more uncomfortable the atmosphere became. To pass the time, I occupied myself with counting the wood beams on the ceiling.
Thatcher cleared his throat. “You always wear heels?”
At least, I thought that’s what he said. His voice was soft and sort of raspy, probably from being out late last night.
“Excuse me?”
“Your shoes. You were wearing ’em yesterday, and you’re wearing ’em again today. Little impractical is all. You’re liable to fall.”
I turned to look at him. Yesterday, he seemed so… groomed. I thought he was handsome, gorgeous, even. Today, his sandy brown hair was tucked under a camouflage baseball cap. He wore an old T-shirt cut off at the sleeves, with ripped jeans and the dirtiest, ugliest boots I’d ever seen. He was a mess. And here he was giving me fashion advice. I loved Sara, and Thatcher was her friend, but he was already rubbing me the wrong way.
“You may be right,” I said. “The thing is, though, I didn’t have a ton of time to worry about getting dressed this morning. Some weirdo peeping Tom was spying on me and saw me naked.”
He shook his head and looked down. I couldn’t quite see his face because it was hidden behind his hat, but it seemed like he was trying not to laugh again.
“Relax, Heels. No one saw you naked.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep.” He lifted his head to look at me. “I talked to that guy you call Tom. Says he was innocently getting some tools out of the storm cellar and accidentally saw you through the window. In a towel.”
“You don’t say.”
“I do. Also says you ought to pull the curtain next time, Heels.”
“Don’t call me Heels.”
“Okay. You ought to pull the curtain next time, Tessy.”
“Don’t call me, Tessy. Only Jake calls me Tessy.”
He shook his head again and walked out of the barn, tapping the top of the threshold with one hand as he passed through the door. “You really do need to relax, Heels.”
***
As soon as Jake and Sara returned, the four of us held our first official business meeting outside. Sara spread a couple old quilts across the grass for us to sit on as I explained my idea to turn the vineyard into a wedding venue.
“Tessy, you’re a genius!”
“I love it,” Sara said.
I smiled, ignoring the skeptical look on Thatcher’s face.
“What do we need to do to make this happen?” Jake clappe
d his hands and pointed at me with both fingers.
I tapped my finger to my chin. “Well, I haven’t thought that far yet, but off the top of my head… we’ll need to take some photos. Because you’ll need a website. Which I can make for you. Nothing fancy, you’ll need a web designer at some point, but I can at least get something decent up to get you started.” I turned around to get a look at the littered driveway leading into the vineyard. “And we’ll need to clean up the junk along the drive. And the grapevines, too. Brides will come to check the place out, and we’ll need to give them a good first impression.”
Jake nodded. “All right. What else?
“We’ll have to set price points and advertise. And from there, you’ll need to be ready to tackle the details of event planning. Maybe you could work with some local wedding coordinators.”
Thatcher snorted. “You really don’t know where you are, do you?”
I pretended not to hear him. “You’ll have to cross that bridge when you come to it, Jake. First you need to focus on cleaning things up around here.”
“I’m in,” Jake said. “Do what you have to do, just tell me what you need. You have free reign. Complete authority to make any and all decisions. Sound good to you, Sara?”
“Fine by me.” She sat back and leaned on her hands in the overgrown grass.
“How long will it take?” Jake asked.
“It’s a tight deadline, but if I push it, I think I can have you advertising in a little over a week.” I expected this timing would line up perfectly with the call I would receive from Logan, begging me to come home.
“Well all right, then. Thatch and I have some work to do. We’ll leave you to it.”
Jake and Thatcher stood and walked back toward the barn.
“It’s sweet of you to help, Tess.” Sara tilted her head back and let the sun hit her face.
“It’s a treat for me. You don’t get this kind of beauty in the city.” I gestured toward a little rock-filled stream meandering its way through the grass nearby. “The closest thing I have to a babbling brook is an app I use to sleep at night. It drowns out the noise from the apartment next door.”
Sara turned to look at the water. “Oh, that. That’s the creek. Carl’s creek. He used to say to me, ‘Look up, and down, and all around. The good Lord made everything here, as far as you can see. Except for the creek. I dug that myself.’”
Tess in Boots Page 4