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by Judith Keim


  As Lettie went about talking to guests, refilling coffee cups, and making sure Elisa and her new cleaning crew were set to begin working, she realized how much extra work was involved with the additional rooms. Going from six guest rooms to thirty changed everything. She and Paloma would have to sit down together and address the issue. And while Abby was at the inn, Lettie intended to talk to her about a number of things, including staffing. She drew in a long breath. At times like this, Lettie felt as if she’d been thrown into a fast-rushing river, leaving her survival up to chance as much as to her own determination.

  That afternoon, Lettie stood at the doorway to the dining room and surveyed the happy, assembled group of guests.

  “Thank you so much for being here at our first annual Thanksgiving at Chandler Hill. It’s a tradition that I hope will last for many, many years. Happy Thanksgiving to each and every one of you.” Lettie smiled bravely. One year ago, she’d been a single, naïve girl who had yet to fall in love with the husband she still mourned. Now, she had a baby and was struggling to carry out the plans that had been left to her to complete, along with the role of mother.

  Later, in her private living quarters, Lettie placed Autumn on a blanket atop the carpet and watched as the baby kicked her feet. At three months, Autumn was less fussy than she’d been earlier. Still, Lettie struggled to form a steady, easy bond with her. Dolores said it was because Lettie was worried about being a good mother, but Lettie knew it was based in part on the guilt she felt because she hadn’t wanted this baby and partly because she was afraid of forming an attachment to someone she loved and might lose. Or maybe, at nineteen, she was still overwhelmed by all that had happened to her in a matter of months.

  At a knock on the door, Lettie went to answer it.

  Abby and Terri stood there. “Hi, can we come in?

  “Sure,” Lettie replied to Abby. “I’m just trying to get Autumn settled down for the night.”

  Autumn began to cry.

  “Aw,” Terri rushed to the baby’s side. “May I pick her up? I’m pretty good with babies.”

  At Lettie’s nod, Terri picked Autumn up and rubbed her back.

  When a huge burp echoed in the room, they all laughed.

  “Please sit down.” Lettie indicated the small couch and two chairs in the living area beside the bedroom.

  After they were all seated, Abby cleared her throat. “You know how much I love the inn. And now that it’s grown into a small hotel, I think I can be of great help to you.” She indicated Terri with a nod of her head. “Both of us can.”

  Lettie looked from one to the other. They’d been a wonderful addition to the special staff for the holiday.

  “What would you think of hiring us on a full-time basis? Me, to help with the business end and Terri to help in the kitchen. As you already know, she’s a wonderful cook. In fact, that’s how we met.”

  “At an Italian restaurant.” Terri smiled at Abby.

  “I’m not sure how much I can pay you.” Lettie was intrigued by the idea.

  “Well, I can continue to work at my consulting business as well as helping you out from time to time.”

  “And I’ll help Paloma with the cooking,” said Terri. “She told me she’s not used to cooking for large groups. But I am.”

  “I think you can build a nice restaurant business here,” Abby commented. “There aren’t that many unique restaurants around, and the population is growing. Having good food will help put heads in beds.” She grinned. “If you allow us to live in the cabin, that will go a long way toward compensation for our work. We’ve been looking for a way to get out of San Francisco. Living and working here will give us the kind of life, the kind of privacy we want.”

  Lettie’s mind spun happily at the idea of having Abby and Terri on the property helping her. Paloma could then take over more of the daily management of the inn, overseeing Elisa and the rest of the staff. That would leave her more time to fulfill Rex’s plan for Lettie to learn about growing grapes and making wine.

  “I love the idea!” said Lettie. “Let’s talk to Paloma tomorrow morning and work things out. We’ll need to see what upgrades the cabin needs and go from there.”

  “Great!” Abby jumped to her feet and gave Lettie a quick hug.

  Terri rose and handed the baby to her. “I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made us. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  Lettie grinned. She was pretty sure it was a good move.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The arrival of Abby and Terri in addition to the publicity that followed Susan Connell’s article in The Oregonian about the wonderful new inn and the young, brave woman who owned and ran it ushered in a new era to the inn. Seeing her picture in the paper and reading about herself, Lettie had been embarrassed. But Abby was thrilled with the publicity and told her so.

  As the valley filled with more people wanting to try their hand at winemaking, the demand grew for quality dining and nice places to stay. Instead of being just a spot to spend the night, the Chandler Hill Inn became a destination. Known for its excellent kitchen, the inn evolved into a retreat for those who wanted to escape busy work lives and spend several days unwinding in the beautiful countryside.

  For the next several years, Lettie worked hard at the inn, oversaw the establishment of the winery, and did her best with a daughter who never seemed satisfied with the attention Lettie could give her. On those nights when Lettie was free to spend time with Autumn, she loved seeing how bright, how determined, how much fun her daughter could be. The most pleasurable times were when Lettie curled up on the bed with Autumn and read stories to her. Lettie had always used books as a means to escape, but now she used them as a means for Autumn to make memories of home.

  She laughed when one evening, Autumn stared at her wide-eyed. “Do we live in a castle?”

  “Nooo. We live in an inn, which is like living in a very big house.”

  “But everyone calls me ‘Princess,’” Autumn protested.

  Lettie wrapped an arm around her daughter. “That’s because they love you.”

  “Okay. You can call me ‘Princess’ too.”

  Lettie laughed. Autumn could never get enough attention.

  At the inn, things continued to change and grow as Lettie tweaked the plans for it. In the main house, she added a separate breakfast room to the expanded kitchen, and opened the library to the living room, where wine, beer, soft drinks, and appetizers were offered to guests in the evening. She had a special events center built away from the main house, where private functions, including weddings, could be held. Attractive groupings of plantings with arbors, a gazebo and interesting benches created locations where wedding parties could have settings for wedding photos.

  And then in 1979, when Autumn was eight years old, David Lett’s ’75 Eyrie South Block Reserve Pinot Noir took second place behind famed Burgundy producer Joseph Drouhin’s 1959 Chambolle-Musigny in a blind tasting of American Pinot Noir versus French Burgundy. Everything went crazy in the valley. People looking for a piece of the grape-growing action bought up every naked piece of Willamette Valley loam. Turkey farms disappeared, and grapes were planted. Hazelnut groves became more prominent. And a man named Rod Mitchell bought 50 acres of land next to Chandler Hill.

  ###

  Two years later, with blessings from both Lew and Bernie, Lettie began construction of the tasting barn Rex had envisioned.

  Abby, restless with the requirement to travel for her consulting business, agreed to take charge of the barn after it opened. They envisioned making it much more than a place for simply tasting wine. They intended to make it a retail store for selling anything related to wine, including glassware, wine-serving and storage equipment, artwork, and clothing and gift items of every kind.

  On the morning the pouring of the foundation was to take place, Lettie stood with Abby, Terri, Paloma, and Autumn watching the cement truck spin out its load.

  “I want to help Aunt Abby in the store,” Autumn anno
unced. “I know how.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Terri laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything you don’t know how to do.”

  “Except clean up her room,” said Lettie, cocking an eyebrow at her daughter.

  “Aw, Mom. We have maids to do that,” said Autumn.

  Lettie shook her head at her daughter. At ten years of age, she herself was already cooking and cleaning in her foster home.

  Abby ruffled Autumn’s auburn hair. “We expect you to help. Understand?”

  Autumn’s frown disappeared. “Okay.”

  They turned as a gray-haired man approached. “Guess we’re going to have us a tasting barn, huh?”

  Lettie smiled at Ben Kurey, the man Rex had coaxed from Napa on a consulting basis to help him start the vineyard. Later, when things became more and more active in Oregon, Ben left California to help several other people get started. But, he’d always remained loyal to Lettie. Now, Lettie and Scott, Ben’s nephew, were the winemakers for Chandler Hill.

  Lettie caught sight of Rod Mitchell heading their way in jeans and a flannel shirt. Her pulse quickened at the sight of him. Tall and good-looking, his features were rugged yet refined with blue eyes, a strong nose and a bold chin. He had a way of making her feel beautiful by simply smiling at her.

  “Hi, Rod!” Autumn cried, running over to him. “Come see. It’s going to be my barn. I’m helping Aunt Abby run it.”

  “That’s nice,” Rod said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with amusement.

  “It’s Mr. Mitchell to you, Autumn, and we’ll see about the rest.” Lettie wrapped an arm around Autumn’s shoulder and gave him an apologetic look.

  He waved away her concern. “It’s good for a kid to have ambition,” he said easily. “Speaking of that, I’m hoping I can entice you away from here for dinner. It’s been a while.”

  “Me too?” asked Autumn hopefully.

  Rod shook his head. “Maybe another time.” He turned to Lettie. “How about it?”

  “Dinner would be nice,” said Lettie. “Things are pretty slow at the inn for the next day or two.” Even though she calmly spoke the words, her pulse raced with anticipation. She knew that this time when Rod asked her to his house for a late-night drink, she’d finally say yes. They’d been dating for a while now.

  The grin that spread across Rod’s features lit his blue eyes. In his late forties, he was a successful entrepreneur who’d made his money in the electronics industry and was used to getting his way. But, Lettie didn’t mind his persistence. Rod reminded her of Rex in his appearance and Kenton in his determination to win her over. It was, Lettie thought, flattering to be sought after.

  After Rod left, Terri elbowed Lettie. “Going out with Mr. Wonderful, huh?”

  Lettie laughed. “We’ll see how wonderful he is. But it’ll be good to get out of my usual routine.”

  “Your usual routine being working twenty-four hours a day and ignoring any guy who dares to make a pass at you,” Terri teased.

  “Aw, you know I’ve been too busy getting this operation up and running and trying to perfect our winemaking to worry about dating some guy.” Or to spend much time with my child, she thought, feeling a surge of guilt.

  “Yes, but you’re too young to give up on having a love life. It’s been ten years since Kenton died. Abby and I are happy to see you take an interest in getting out more. It’ll be good for Autumn too. She’s surrounded by women and needs a male figure in her life.”

  “We’ll see,” said Lettie.

  Later that morning, Lettie thought about the situation at the inn. Abby, Terri, Paloma, and she had become a tight group overseeing the inn and all other operations at Chandler Hill. She knew people in the area called them “The Sisterhood” and made nasty jokes about them, and she didn’t care. But maybe, like Terri said, it would be healthy to bring a man into the picture. Then again, what kind of man would want to work with them?

  By the time evening arrived, Lettie was determined to relax and have a good time with Rod. It would be a healthy turn of events for both her and her daughter.

  As she was dressing, Autumn came into the room and threw herself across Lettie’s bed. “Why do you have to go out tonight? I want you to stay home.”

  “Mothers need to get out now and then, do something on their own,” Lettie responded, pushing away the guilt about to drain her excitement. Were all mothers in such demand or was it because Lettie gave her daughter too little time?

  “Mr. Mitchell likes you, Mom. I wish he liked me too.”

  Lettie faced her daughter, unsure how to answer her. Giving Autumn a reassuring smile, she said, “Mr. Mitchell has always been glad to see you.”

  “I guess. But then he should take me out to dinner too.”

  “Someday, you’ll have lots of men asking you out to dinner,” said Lettie, slipping earrings into her earlobes. “Now, how about homework? Is yours done?”

  “Humph, you’re never any fun,” Autumn announced before flouncing out of the room.

  Lettie watched her daughter leave and wondered why the two of them couldn’t seem to get along for any length of time. She’d heard about mothers and daughters having troubles. Maybe it was normal.

  She turned to the mirror and studied the simple beige dress she’d selected for the evening. It would do, she thought, smoothing the fabric over the appealing curves of her hips. She fluffed her hair. The fashion was for big hair, and her strawberry-blond curls were more than happy to oblige. Lettie leaned closer to the mirror to check her eye makeup. Eyeliner accented the round shape of her eyes; green eye shadow brought out their turquoise color. Satisfied she’d done the best she could, Lettie straightened.

  ###

  Rod beamed at her when she walked into the front room of the inn. “You look ravishing.”

  “Thank you.” Lettie felt her cheeks grow warm. He was looking at her as if he wanted to take a bite.

  “I thought we’d go to Nick’s for dinner and then back to my house,” Rod said as he helped her on with her coat.

  “Sounds good,” said Lettie, telling herself it was time to see where this relationship might be going.

  ###

  In McMinnville, the streets were not crowded. The mid-week days were usually quiet. Rod parked the car, and they walked into the Italian restaurant that was still a favorite of Lettie’s.

  Inside, savory aromas greeted them. There was something about the smell of garlic, bread, and tomatoes that always excited Lettie’s appetite.

  Rod took a seat facing the entrance, and as she knew he would, he greeted most of the people who came inside by name. He’d been in town for only two years but already knew more people than she did. Another reason, she supposed, that she should get out more.

  After their meal, Rod helped her into his car, a silver Ford Thunderbird, and they took off for his home.

  As she stared out the window at the countryside masked in darkness, a worrisome shiver shook her shoulders. She hadn’t shared intimacy with a man in over ten years, and even though she was still young, she felt old and worn. And more than a little shy.

  Seeming to sense her nervousness, Rod reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “We’ll relax by the fire, have another a glass of wine, and simply enjoy one another.”

  Lettie remained quiet. Didn’t someone once say that sex was like riding a bicycle—once you learned how you never forgot it?

  ###

  Rod’s house was a modern version of a Victorian farmhouse with a sweeping front porch that overlooked the rolling hills of the valley. The exterior consisted of clapboards painted a pleasing light gray, offset by a bright-red front door. Soft-white trim edged bay windows and the double French doors that led to the screened-in porch. A round tower rose from the far corner of the house, a welcoming beacon to visitors.

  Inside, the openness to both the outside and to all the interior gave one a sense of space that was appealing to Lettie. Observing it again, Lettie remembered why she’d been uncomfortable with
Rod’s earlier advances. As much as she loved the idea of open space, she knew she needed a sense of privacy for any initial lovemaking.

  She followed Rod into the kitchen and stood by while he opened a bottle of wine and poured the rich, red liquid into two stemmed glasses.

  “Take off your coat and stay awhile,” he joked when he noticed her huddled into its warmth.

  Feeling foolish, she laughed. “Don’t mind if I do.” She took off her outer wrap and placed it on a chair.

  In the living room, Rod lit the fire he’d previously built in the fireplace and then took a seat next to her on the long, gray couch that faced the burning wood. Lights recessed in the ceiling were set on low, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

  “How about some music?” Rod said.

  Lettie returned his smile. “Okay.”

  He got up, and after a moment of fussing with his stereo, music from speakers in bookcases on either side of the fireplace exuded the soft sound of jazz.

  “There,” he said, rejoining her on the couch. “That’s better.”

  Lettie let out a long, satisfied breath. After constantly being with people, seeing to their wants and needs, it felt good to be able to sit and relax. She hadn’t realized how much she missed having time to herself or sharing it with someone like him.

  He turned to face her. “Anyone told you lately how beautiful you are?” He brushed a curl away from her cheek. His steady gaze sent a frisson of excitement through her. She knew he wanted to kiss her. Resisting the urge to turn away, she leaned forward.

  His warm lips caressed hers with a tender kiss that grew more demanding. She opened to his tongue and felt new sensations rolling through her. His hands moved to capture her breasts.

  When she moaned softly, he lifted her onto his lap and cuddled her close.

  Lettie leaned her head against his broad chest, loving the feel of such strength.

  “Shall we go upstairs?” Rod’s voice came out in a sexy rasp that sent shivers dancing up her spine. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She’d run away from her emotions with others for far too long.

 

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