Bluestone & Vine

by Donna Kauffman

  She swatted him on the backside as he passed, and didn’t hold back, either, but he heard her chuckling. “If you’d just sweet-talk Pippa like you do me, you’ll do fine, trust me.” She followed him in and closed the door behind them.

  Seth choked a little at that. Addie wasn’t one for beating around the bush. Too late he realized that maybe he should be more worried about the chaperone than his date. He stood and brushed his hands on the legs of his jeans. “I’ll have you know I’ve been nothing but charming.”

  Addie opened one of the wine bottles to let it breathe. “I should hope so. She’s a lovely girl.”

  “She is, indeed,” Seth said, walking over to the kitchen to peek over her shoulder. “Something smells like heaven.”

  She swatted him away from the bubbling pots on the stove. “Make yourself useful and pour us a glass.”

  “Happy to,” he said, chuckling. “You didn’t have to cook, you know. I’m not sure what Pippa’s big scheme is, but something tells me we’re going to be owing you the dinner, if she’s planning on your helping in some way. Where is she, by the way?”

  “She was still down at the mill when I left. She was talking to Sawyer before he and Sunny took off. Then she had something else she needed to do there, not sure what. She’ll be here shortly, I suspect.” Addie stirred one pot while blowing across another to help keep the boil from frothing over the edge.

  “Pippa said Sawyer and Sunny were taking Bailey out for the night?”

  Addie nodded. “All the way up to Valley View for a gallery showing. I know it’s Sunday and a school night, but I figured one late night would be okay. That child finishes her homework on the bus ride home from school more than half the time, so I’ve no doubt she’s prepared for class tomorrow. I’ll help her with the sheep in the morning.”

  “I’m sure she appreciates getting to go,” Seth said. Turtle Springs was the nearest town to Blue Hollow Falls, with basic shopping amenities and other support systems that the Falls lacked, like the hospital. Valley View was the closest city that could truly be called that, and was close to two hours away. “Valley View, huh? Sounds fancy. Who’s the artist?”

  “Paper sculptor. Builds these amazing portraits by stacking together folded pieces of paper. I’ve never seen anything like it. Tremendous talent. She’s considering moving to the area and wanted to talk to me about seeing if some of our artists could make hand-milled and hand-dyed paper for her for a big project she’s working on for her next show.”

  “Sounds like that might be a good fit. Interesting craft. So, were you supposed to go? You should have said something. I’m sure Pippa wouldn’t want you to—”

  Addie waved a spoon over one of the pots. “I’ve every faith Sawyer will make a deal with the artist and I’ll have plenty of opportunities to see her work up close and personal later. Who better to charm her than Sawyer?”

  “And Bailey,” Seth said, then laughed. “Poor woman doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Addie Pearl smiled at him over her shoulder. “And I figure once Sawyer closes the deal, I can convince her to come teach a seminar or two.”

  Seth lifted his wineglass in her direction. “Always thinking.”

  Addie nodded, taking the compliment in stride. “Besides, Pippa said this was something to do with that tiff I heard about at the mill yesterday, between Will and Jake.” She laid the spoon down and wiped her hands on the towel she’d tucked into the pocket of her apron, then turned to Seth. “Doesn’t sound like the Wilson McCall I know at all. So of course I want to help if I can.”

  Seth took a seat on one of the stools that fronted the workstation in the center of the kitchen. Addie Pearl’s cabin was log-over-log, much smaller than his but similar in the open floor plan with the loft overhead. The large picture window behind him on the other side of the dining-room table framed a breathtaking view along the mountain range. Or as Addie put it, “the kind of art only God could paint.”

  Seth slid her wineglass to her. “It was definitely out of character,” he agreed, “and then some. I was with Will and Jake more days than not when we were all working on the mill. Never once did I see him get so much as irritated with Jake, much less display the fury he put on show yesterday. He’s the steadiest, most patient man I’ve ever met. To a fault at times.” Seth shook his head. “I felt as bad for him as I did for Jake.”

  Addie Pearl nodded. “Pippa said it had to do with Jake bringing one of Will’s fiddles to the mill, hoping for some lessons?”

  Seth nodded. “She’d arranged for Drake to talk with him a little, go over a few basics, see if it was a passing fancy or truly something he wanted to pursue.”

  “Seems harmless enough.”

  “On the surface. But Jake should have gotten permission, for the fiddle and the lessons. Pippa thought he had. And that’s not at all like Jake, either.”

  Addie sipped her wine. “Mmm,” she said, eyes widening in pleasure. “You’re on the right path with this batch.”

  Seth smiled, nodded his thanks. “High praise, indeed,” he said, meaning it. Addison Pearl was picky about her wine.

  She set her glass down and held his gaze. “I imagine Will has a good reason for being ticked off like he was, about that fiddle. And not just because he’d made the thing himself.” She smiled. “I know you’ve never heard him play, but oh, Dot—Wilson’s mother—used to just go on and on about his fiddle playing. Did you know it was her daddy who taught Wilson how to play and to make his own instruments?”

  Seth shook his head, surprised. “I didn’t, no.”

  “Well, once his mama passed and he moved here for good, I can’t tell you how often I tried to get that man to play, or even give us a little talk about how he came to build fiddles, talk about his daddy, maybe discuss the ins and outs of the procedures he uses.” She smiled, but it was more rueful than anything. “He tolerated my busybody ways for longer than he probably should have. He’s a gentleman, after all. But one day he finally stepped aside with me and very politely, but firmly, told me that fiddle making, and fiddle playing, were in his past, and that I’d be doing him a great service to refrain from asking him about either of those things ever again.” She sighed.

  “And did you refrain?” Seth asked, in a tone that suggested he might not think her capable of such a thing.

  Addie Pearl gave him an aggrieved look and swatted his hand. “Of course I did. That man was in a world of pain. I could see he hadn’t made the request lightly. Most likely he’d only put up with me asking as long as he did because he knew telling me to back off would just spark my curiosity.” She picked up her glass again and sipped, her unique lavender-colored eyes gleaming mischievously at him over the rim. “And it most certainly did.” She cradled the glass in both hands. “But I’m a patient woman. I knew someday the moment would come along when I would find an inroad on the subject and we’d talk about it. I admit, it’s taken a bit longer than I expected. I thought maybe during the mill renovation, but no.” She smiled and poured herself another partial glass. “And now along comes Pippa, barely here for a minute, and things have been all stirred up again.”

  “I’m still not sure if this is something anyone needs to be interfering with,” Seth cautioned her. “You should have seen him, Addie. I think he’d have come to blows with me if I’d blocked his path any longer.”

  “Let’s listen to what Pippa has to say,” she counseled. “Something tells me she’s going to be asking as much of herself as she is of Will. Or at least that’s the impression she gave me.”

  The sound of tires crunching on gravel interrupted their talk.

  “There she is now,” Addie said, and bustled on over to the front door.

  Seth realized he was holding his breath, waiting for Pippa to step into the cabin. What the hell is wrong with you? He wasn’t sure if the nerves were because he was looking forward to being around her for the first time without having to pretend his interest was strictly platonic. Or because he was wondering how Pippa was go
ing to act, now that she could do the same. Or because in the back of his mind, all he could hear was tick tock, tick tock.

  Then she walked into the cabin, with that bright, sunny smile, laughing at something Addie had said, and when she saw him, that smile went even wider and her gorgeous blue eyes danced with excitement and pleasure.

  Whatever else happened, Seth knew, in that moment, that when it came to letting her go, or going after her, he damn well wasn’t going to watch her walk away from him again. Well then, laddie, best get on up and do something about that.

  Seth stood and met her in the middle of the room. He bent down to kiss her on the cheek, noting Addie’s eye roll at such a chaste hello. He smiled at that, then smiled down into Pippa’s happy face. “You look like a woman on a mission, and that mission is taking shape. Care to fill us in?”

  She tipped up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and urged his mouth down to hers for a quick, solid kiss.

  Seth caught Addie’s smile of approval as she turned back to the stove; then he looked down at Pippa, who was still smiling up at him.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I’ve decided I’m not giving any more of my time away to worry.”

  He grinned. “I don’t mind at all.”

  “Good,” she said brightly, then slipped her hand in his and tugged him with her over to the center work island in the kitchen. “I need some wine before I lay the plan out.”

  It was like grabbing on to the tail of a comet, Seth thought, and grinned. At least it would never be a dull ride.

  He poured Pippa a glass of wine, and waited for her to take a sip.

  Her eyes grew wide as she did the little mouth swish and swallow. “That’s wonderful.” She put her glass down and picked up the bottle. Her expression melted when she saw the label. “It’s Dex!” She looked at Seth. “I love this. Llamarama Wine.”

  Seth smiled. “I had one of the artists at the mill do a sketch and watercolor for the label and business card. I haven’t really had the chance to use it much yet, but I think it sums up the mood I want for the vineyard.”

  The label had a blue wash background, with a space in the middle to put in the specific type of wine it was and any other name he wanted to give it. Below was the winery name and info, which appeared hand lettered rather than typed. On one side was a trellised vine with bunches of plump grapes, with the vines crawling across the top of the label. Peeking in from the other side was Dex’s neck and head, as he nibbled on the grapes at the end of the crawling vine. All the art was hand sketched and painted in a soft wash with watercolors, giving it a look that was both whimsical and beautiful.

  “I love everything about it,” Pippa said, finally putting the bottle back on the counter so she could take another sip from her glass. “Mmm. This really is amazing. Why aren’t you bottling yet?”

  Seth set his own glass down. “Gilbert Bianchi unearthed a chart that Emile had hand drawn, showing what grapes he’d planted where.” Seth smiled. “It was in French, and Gilbert only spoke English and a little Italian. He had it translated and made up a more formal chart. A good part of what Emile had planted had died off, mostly due to neglect and weather. But a surprising number of vines remained, though they were out of control by the time Gilbert came along. He didn’t want to plant as many acres as Emile, so he transplanted a lot of what was salvageable in the fields he planned to use.”

  “So, does that mean they’re all mixed up out there?” Pippa asked.

  “A little bit,” Seth said with a grin, then lifted his glass as if in a toast to Gilbert. “He did try to chart it as best he could, but then he passed on and things went to seed again. So I really need to take at least a season or two to see what produces. I won’t plant as many acres as Emile did, but I’ll want more than Gilbert. There’s just no point in expanding until I see what I’ve got.”

  “But you’ve been experimenting already,” Pippa said, and took another sip.

  Seth nodded. “A little. Mostly to hone my own skills as a vintner. I want the chance to play a bit more before I commit to specific blends that will have my name on it.” He smiled. “Or Dex’s, as the case may be.”

  “Did Gilbert’s wife know?” Pippa asked. “About the label?”

  Seth nodded. “She knew I was going to change the name of the winery from Bianchi Vineyards to Bluestone & Vine, and she liked the new name and the reasoning behind it. She’d made a passing comment when we were discussing the sale, made in jest, really, about how Dex should be considered an ambassador for the brand, not an albatross.” He shrugged. “One thing led to another.”

  “I know that had to have made her happy,” Pippa said, beaming.

  Seth nodded. “I think it did. I wish she’d made it long enough to get to taste the wine.”

  Addie reached over and covered Seth’s hand and squeezed. “She knows. You’ve done right by her and her husband. She knows.”

  “Thanks, Addie,” Seth said, touched. He looked at Pippa. “So, your turn.”

  Addie interrupted him. “How about we get this meal on the table? Then we can plot and plan.”

  Pippa laid the table with woven mats and the hand thrown, mismatched plates and antique silver—none of it alike, either—that Addie had stacked on the work island. Seth carried over a variety of crocks and serving bowls filled with wild rice, green beans with almonds and mushrooms, creamed corn, and stewed apples, while Addie carried the carving plate and roast to the head of the table.

  “I think my taste buds have already died and gone to heaven, and I haven’t even taken a bite yet,” Pippa said with a contented sigh.

  “Could you get the jam and butter from the fridge?” Addie said to Pippa, and went to get the biscuits from the oven. She also brought tumblers and a pitcher of cold sweet tea to the table, along with the wine.

  “You’re going to have to roll me out to my truck later,” Seth warned as he finished carving the roast. “That is, if I’m not already fast asleep on your couch.”

  “I promise I won’t disturb your beauty sleep,” Addie Pearl told him with a wink. Looking quite pleased with herself, she took a chair at the end of the table, and Seth and Pippa sat across from each other at the same end, making for a cozy threesome as they passed the serving dishes back and forth.

  “I don’t know which is more life-changing,” Pippa said, “this amazing meal, or that view.” She was on the long bench seat that framed one side of the cedar plank table. Seth was seated in one of the mismatched high-back chairs across from her. “I can’t think of a better way to spend a lovely spring evening.” Pippa lifted her wine glass in a toast. “To good food, good wine, and good friends.” Addie and Seth lifted their glasses and they clinked them together.

  Food was served and appetites quickly fulfilled as they enjoyed Addie Pearl’s feast. The conversation was kept to things like the spring heat wave they’d just had after the brutal, snowy winter, gossip about the mill, and a few new crafters Addie Pearl was hoping to bring on board as they each enjoyed several servings of both food and wine.

  The sun was setting when Addie Pearl passed the biscuits for one last round, then set the empty basket in the middle of the table. “Well now, we’ve managed to put it off long enough.” Addie waved her butter knife in Pippa’s general direction. “Out with it.”

  Pippa and Seth shared a raised-eyebrow smile; then Pippa wiped her mouth with her napkin and took a breath. “As you know, this is about Will, and about Jake, but it’s also about me. I need to start there, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is,” Addie Pearl said, her lavender eyes crinkling at the corners and her smile warm and encouraging. “You go on, and take your time.”

  “Thank you,” Pippa said sincerely, but looked only fractionally relieved. “Seth knows this first part, and my sister Katie knows, but no one else does,” she began. “Pretty much everyone knows about my ruptured vocal cords. So, I had surgery on them exactly one year ago, next week.”

  Seth’s g
aze sharpened at that. When she’d first arrived, she’d mentioned the surgery had been eleven months ago, but he hadn’t put that together with the fact that she had been in Blue Hollow Falls for a few weeks.

  “The surgery was a complete success. I followed all the protocols to the letter during my recovery, and I was given the green light to begin singing again some time ago. In moderation of course, and there are certain exercises I’ve been cautioned to do as an ongoing thing. I hired someone who specializes in that kind of thing to help me proceed in the smartest way possible.” She looked down for a moment, then slid her hands to her lap before looking back at the two of them. “And I haven’t done any of the exercises. Haven’t sung a single note. Because, you see, I’m petrified it will happen again.”

  “That sounds like a perfectly normal reaction,” Addie Pearl said.

  “Maybe. But the longer I’ve gone without trying, the more scared I’ve become. I even went to see a therapist about it, but his advice was basically to just sing, and I’d see I was fine.”

  “Sounds like you needed a better therapist,” Addie grumbled.

  “Possibly. Probably,” Pippa amended with a smile. “But I also realized that no amount of encouragement from a stranger was going to get me there, either.” She picked up her napkin from the table and began folding and refolding the corners as she spoke. “The thing is, I used to not be able to not sing. By that I mean, if I wasn’t singing, I was humming, or I’d hear music inside my head all the time. My world was always scored with a running soundtrack. So I guess I just thought that not singing would be the hardest part of the surgery. And once I was healed, it would be there waiting for me. It’s like a . . . compulsion. No, that’s not the right word.” She looked at Seth, and said, “Singing is like breathing to me.”

  He reached across the table and took her hand in his, rubbing his fingers over hers, wishing he could give her all his strength, wishing he could win this battle for her.

  “But, since the surgery . . .” She lifted her shoulders and slid her hand from his, bringing it back to her lap. She looked at Addie, then to Seth, and held on to his gaze, as if maybe summoning her strength from him after all. “I haven’t heard the music,” she said quietly. “I don’t hum, I don’t sing, my throat doesn’t just tighten and automatically produce music as I go about my day.” She took another sip of wine, pausing to find her words. “At first, I just assumed it was because of the surgery, and the pain, and all the healing that had yet to happen. But it should have still filled me up inside, like it used to. Only there was just ... silence. As time went on, it didn’t come back.” She smiled then. “And that really freaked me out.”