by Maymee Bell
“Ray Peel wants to sell the land and not renew the winery lease that’s coming due.” She stuffed a full cookie in her mouth. “This week.”
“This week?” That’s why he wanted to see Madison.
Her chin drew an imaginary line up toward the ceiling and back down toward the floor in a dramatic nod.
“Can’t they open a new winery somewhere?” I asked. I had no knowledge of how to make wine or even how the grapes were grown.
She shook her head and swallowed. “Grape Valley is known for their sweet grape, which comes from the amazing limestone found here on this land. When the Dugans decided to make wine, they did a lot of research. That’s when Giles made the lease agreement with Ray.”
“There’s plenty of limestone all over Rumford.” It wasn’t a secret that Kentucky’s nickname, the Bluegrass State, was because the grass had a slightly blue tint from the rich limestone soil.
“Apparently not for growing the grapes for the wine that’s made here. Giles even paid for some soil tests around Rumford to see if any matched the quality they have here, and there’s nothing else like it.” She glanced over her shoulder.
“So they’re just going to close up if Ray sells?” I asked.
“I’m afraid it’s their only choice. At least that’s the way Giles sees it.” The stress had found its way into the creases between her eyes. “It’s a shame too. He’s been doing so well since his wife died. He put all he had into this company, and with one swoop it’s gone.” Her lips turned down. She reached for another cookie, and her face relaxed. She bit into it. “This is so good.”
“And the Cherry Flip-Flops didn’t change his mind?” I joked, but Reba didn’t laugh. I tapped the box of peanut butter and jam sandwiches. “I’m glad I could bring some comfort to you today.” I was going to ask for the money they owed me for the catering, but right now didn’t seem like the right time. “Where do you want me to set up?”
“You can go on down to the visitor’s center where we do the wine tastings and selling. They’ve got a nice big tent for you to set up there. I drove by there this morning to make sure they had your tables set up.” The phone rang. “Let me know if you need anything. Thank you for the cookies.” She grabbed the phone receiver. “Good afternoon, Grape Valley Winery.”
When Reba paused to listen to the phone, Tammy’s voice echoed off the old barn walls and into the air as she stomped by: “Where is that low-down dirty dog? He’s going to hear what I have to say, even if it’s the last thing he ever hears!”
I quietly made my way out of the offices. This was my first big job, and I was already out a lot of money; I sure hoped they had enough to pay me.
At least the sun was shining, and it was turning out to be an unusually warm day for spring. Mother Nature had decided to grace us with an early budding, and the trees were nice, full of vibrant leaves that could be seen across the rolling hills of the vineyard, as were the swaying sea of colors from the wildflowers.
As I drove the van toward the visitors’ area of the winery, I saw some employees already out in the vines and picking the grapes. It was a big operation to run a vineyard. It made me sad to realize just how many families would be impacted by Ray’s decision to sell the land. Especially since there weren’t any other vineyards in Rumford.
For now, I had to put all that in the back of my head. I needed to stick with the commitment at hand. The fund-raiser for the library needed to be at the forefront, and since the wealthiest of Rumford were going to be in attendance, I just knew they’d taste my delicious treats and hire me to cater more of their events. There was a rainbow in every dark cloud, I thought as I parked the van.
The winery was also a renovated barn, with a café that sat along the bank of a small lake with an amazing view of the vineyards. They had a gift shop inside of the winery, carrying the Grape Valley Winery logo on everything you could possibly imagine: shirts, cups, glasses, plates, napkins, purses, and their own signature bottles. There were three bars where customers could purchase drinks as well as taste the wine. One bar was inside and two bars were outside under a covered patio that included a dance floor, where the band was setting up. There were at least twenty round banquet tables with ten white folding chairs circling each. Empty bourbon barrels had been made into tabletops, and empty bottles with the winery label served as centerpieces with the most beautiful array of Kentucky wildflowers that I was sure came from the land right here on the winery.
There were so many people running around getting ready for the fund-raiser, I wasn’t sure whom I needed to check in with, so I just started to pull the trays of pastries off the baking racks and put them on the tables before I retrieved the mobile display cases.
“Let me help you.” Madison ran up to the van. Her face was as red as a tomato. Her jaw was set, and she huffed a couple of times.
I pushed the display case to the edge of the van, and she jerked it.
“Be careful. These were expensive, and they can break. I really need this job to help pay them off.” I peered around the case and looked at her when she didn’t respond with her typical positive words about how much Rumford needed the bakery and how I was going to be a huge success. “Uh-oh, you look really mad.”
“That Ray Peel—he’s a jerk.” She tugged a little more and grabbed one side while I grabbed the other. We placed it on the ground. “If I weren’t a good Southern girl, I’d strangle him with one of the grapevines out there.”
“Lucky for us”—Catherine Fraxman, the librarian, had snuck up behind us—“that you’re a good Southern gal. And no one is touching him until I get the money he’s donated for the new addition to the library.” She winked and pulled her long black hair behind her shoulders. She pushed her red glasses up on her nose and reached to help Madison with the end of the display case. “Let me help y’all.”
“Thanks.” I was glad to see her since she was the one in charge and it meant the fund-raiser was in full swing. I could go get the winery payment before the night was over. “Are you getting excited?” I asked after we set the case on the ground.
“I am. I don’t know what Ray did to you, but I’m excited to see his big donation push us over the goal.” She pursed her lips in satisfaction. “You have no idea how much the library needs his donation. A true lifesaver.”
Lifesaver was a bit over the top, but like I said, no one in Rumford had ever just given away half a million dollars.
“I can tell you …” Madison started to grumble, but Cat’s phone rang, and she quickly answered it.
“Over there,” Cat whispered and pointed to the area where she wanted me to set up. “Hi, Ray. I just got here.”
Madison rolled her eyes and took a deep sigh. She reached down and unlocked the wheels. She shoved the moveable case faster than the wheels could go.
“I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but you’re going to have to push slower on this gravel.” I tried to steady the case so it wouldn’t tip as she shoved it toward me, pushing it across the gravel parking lot and into the grass. We ended by the gazebo that had a perfect view of the lake and the entire vineyard.
Madison stopped; her eyes grazed my right shoulder. I turned around to see what she was glaring at.
I instantly recognized Lanie Truvinski, the president of the wine convention. “I know that lady.” Ray Peel was walking up to Lanie, and he appeared to be on his cell phone. The big smile on Lanie’s face didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s the woman that placed the big order this morning.”
“What order?” Madison’s voice was harsh with frustration. “Who is she?”
“She’s the one I told you about that’s in town for a wine convention.” I shrugged. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought she might be some high-falutin’ real estate agent.” She brought her attention back to me and pushed a little gentler this time, helping me get the case in place safely.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, trying not to pry.
“I’m fine.” S
he gave me a quick hug, but the glare she gave Ray when he and Lanie walked closer to the winery didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll see you here tonight.”
We gave each other another quick hug, and I decided to give her space. She’d tell me when she was ready.
After I’d come back from retrieving the For Goodness Cakes banner from the van, Lanie and Ray were standing in the gazebo, looking out at the lake.
“I need the right buyer,” I overheard Ray say to Lanie. He scoffed, “That agent you just met—she’s what I’d consider low on the real estate scale. She can only handle the cheap properties with cheap buyers. More of the income type of seller, if you know what I mean.”
“It takes a special person to be able to buy a winery.” Lanie spoke with an air of confidence that made my stomach turn. Neither of them knew just how hard Madison would work to find the right buyer. She just needed a chance. “When are you going to shut down production?”
“Tonight.” His words made me gasp.
Out of the corner of my eye, as I hung up my sign, I could see them look at me. I busied myself, acting as if I’d not heard them.
“You can’t do that tonight.” Lanie’s voice held a hoarse frustration. “I’ve got over one hundred of the best wine connoisseurs coming here tomorrow.”
“Too bad.” There wasn’t a sad tone to his words. “I’m losing money quicker than a speeding ticket.”
“Ray.” I could tell by her body language she was trying to keep her cool, but there was a deep frustration in her voice. “Maybe one of the wine members will want to purchase the land if we still have the convention here. I’ll be able to promote the land and the winery for you. Don’t pull the plug on me now. You promised me.”
“Well, honey,” he snickered, “promises were meant to be broken.”
“I should’ve known you’d do this. This isn’t the first time you’ve disappointed me.” Her words seethed out of her mouth.
The sound of her hand slapping Ray across the face caught my attention. I quickly looked away as he responded with a few choice words that’d make the devil blush. Lanie ran off.
Ray touched his cheek, spit on the ground, and turned his attention back toward the lake.
Chapter Three
The bluegrass band started to play just as I got the last mini cupcake placed on the cupcake stand. They were perfect, bite-sized treats filled with chocolate and vanilla cream that were perfectly paired with the different wines offered to the guest. I’d even made cute little signs that showed which pastry paired well with which wine.
It was nice to see the residents of Rumford come out and enjoy the last bit of the afternoon sun, listen to some good music, and hang out with one another while raising money for a good cause. For a Sunday, the winery grounds were busy and full.
Even Cat Fraxman was socializing more than I’d ever seen her do, and she was smiling the entire time. It was strange not seeing her head stuck between the covers of an open book.
Perry and Tammy Dugan strolled over with wine glasses in their hands. Perry reached for one of the cupcakes before Tammy smacked his hand away.
“Please, help yourself.” I laughed at the brother and sister duo. I was always envious of siblings since I didn’t have any, though you might consider Bitsy more of an annoying older sister than a mother. “I’ve got plenty more.”
“If you insist.” Perry flashed that bright white smile. He was very different from his father, and he didn’t work for the family business like his sister. He was a lawyer and with all the rumors I’d been hearing today, it looked like he was the only member of the family who wouldn’t be affected by the sale of the land.
“What is that?” Tammy pointed to a plate inside the glass display.
“Mud puddles.” I opened the door and took one out, placing it on a napkin as I held it over the case for her. After she took it, I pointed to the sheet I’d made up. “Are you drinking Cab?” I asked, guessing that her glass contained Cabernet Sauvignon.
“Beaujolais, Cabernet Sauvignon, Bordeaux, Merlot, and Zinfandel go well with a mud puddle?” Tammy looked at the list and down at the napkin in her hand.
“Smile!” Lizbeth Mockby, the editor of the Rumford Newspaper, hid behind her camera and snapped a few photos of the brother and sister with their pastry treats in the air. “For Goodness Cakes Bakery, right?” She looked at me over the top of her glasses for confirmation.
“Yes. Thanks.” I was happy to take all the free press I could get.
Lizbeth didn’t bother to acknowledge my thanks; she moved like a little flea, hopping from person to person, snapping photos along the way.
Excitement and pride rose from my stomach to my throat, almost making me tear up as I saw all the happy faces not only glad to interact with one another but also to enjoy my pastries. Everyone told me I’d outdone myself.
Every time Tammy took a bite of the cookie, she followed it up with a sip of her wine. Her face relaxed and a smile crossed her lips. A satisfied gurgle even escaped her throat. This was the exact reaction that made me love baking so much. It was the satisfaction and happiness baked goods brought to people that made me feel like I was making some sort of difference in the world, making it a happier place one pastry at a time.
“Delicious.” Perry smiled.
“I think you’re right.” Tammy nodded and popped the rest of a cookie in her mouth, slowly chewing every savory bite before she took another sip of wine. “Perry,” she whispered, “you must try this. Amazing.”
Tammy held the napkin out for him. He took the mud puddle off the napkin and took a bite.
“This cookie is amazing.” His eyes were gentle. “Tammy is right. You’re a pretty amazing baker.”
“Tammy, do you know where your father is?” Reba’s eyes snapped between Tammy and Perry after she walked over. “Cat Fraxman is desperately looking for him. She’s not a happy person right now. I think Ray told her.”
Their attention quickly locked on Cat Fraxman and Ray Peel. Cat and Ray seemed to be having a very heated discussion, her voice rising above the band and laughter of all the guests. Perry and Tammy headed that way, and I watched as Ray’s face contorted when they reached him.
While I rearranged and added some pastries to keep the display looking full and pretty, I could see Bitsy scurrying my way.
“You didn’t go home and change?” Bitsy’s brows knitted together. Her eyes bore into me with each step she took in my direction.
“I think you look just fine.” My dad, Robert, stood next to her. “Bitsy, she’s working.”
He’d obviously just come from work, because he had on the three-piece suit that he used for trials.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ray storm off toward the vineyard, cursing under his breath.
“She needs to work on settling down. Where is Carter anyway?” Bitsy’s disapproval of my lack of interest in getting married was written all over her face. But ever since I’d started dating Sheriff Carter Kincaid, Bitsy had been dropping off bridal magazines in my mailbox on a weekly basis. “Robert, none of us are getting any younger, and I’d like to be able to run around with my grandchildren on my own two feet instead of them pushing me in a wheelchair.” Bitsy let out a very loud and exhausting sigh.
“You talk about me like I’m not here.” I looked between them. “I’m here for a job, not to attend or donate, or to be on a date with Carter.”
I wanted to remind Bitsy exactly why I’d moved back to Rumford from New York City, though falling in love with Carter was a bonus. He’d gone to school with Charlotte, Madison, and me, but wasn’t a standout like the boys we’d hung around with. He was quiet, reserved, and observant—qualities I like much more now that we are older.
Since he had the title of sheriff and came from what Bitsy would call “good stock,” she’d been pleased as punch when we started dating.
“Smile for the camera,” Lizbeth chimed in on her way back over to us.
“Where have you been?” Bitsy gave
Lizbeth a scowl. “You were supposed to be at the Junior League last night, taking pictures for the society page. We raised over two thousand dollars.”
“Yeah. I got a little tied up, but I’ll be sure to get a photo of you and the league members today with the check. I’ll definitely put you on the society page.” Lizbeth knew the right words to say to Bitsy.
Bitsy perked up and nudged my dad. I was standing on the other side of him for the photo, and he jerked away from Bitsy.
“Robert, smile with your mouth slightly open, and show your teeth,” she instructed him. “Not the the fake pull-your-lips-apart kind. Actually, think of something that will make you laugh.”
“Like the thought of you gardening?” I asked, and Dad busted out laughing.
“Good one.” Lizbeth grinned.
“I want to see it. I don’t think I was smiling.” Bitsy rushed over to Lizbeth’s side and tried to get a glimpse at the digital screen that gave a preview of the photo.
“It’s fine,” Lizbeth assured her but held her camera close her.
While the two of them debated whether or not Lizbeth was going to show Bitsy the photo, I tugged Dad toward the For Goodness Cakes bakery counter.
“Would you like a Nanner mini pie?” I asked, putting on my sweet-as-pie face because Cat had walked up.
Before he answered, I took out a mini graham cracker pie shell, knowing it was hard for Bitsy and Dad to refuse any sort of homemade treat from their daughter. Especially Nanner mini pie.
“You’ve got to be so proud of Sophia coming back to Rumford after all of these years and reopening the old bakery.” Cat clasped her hands in front of her and rocked back on the heels of her black flats.
Bitsy rejoined us after Lizbeth found someone else to capture.
“Mm-hmm,” Bitsy’s lips snapped together, and she nodded her head.
“We are very, very proud of our daughter, even if she hadn’t come back to Rumford. But there’s no denying we are pleased she’s come home to live.” Dad always had the right thing to say. “Have you tried Sophia’s Nanner mini pie?” Dad offered his mini pie to Cat, but she politely declined.