Going Home

by Judith Keim

  “Thanks.” Lettie got to her feet wearily and went outside. Sitting down in a rocking chair she stared blankly at the scene in front of her, too shocked to notice what was there.

  Paloma stepped out onto the wide, wooden deck and stood behind the chair. Placing a comforting hand on Lettie’s shoulder, the faithful friend who’d always been her support asked, “Are you okay?”

  Lettie patted Paloma’s hand. “Just trying to come to grips with reality.”

  “You’re a good woman, Lettie,” Paloma said with conviction. “Think of it as going home. Going home to Jesus.”

  “What if I’m not ready?” Lettie said softly. She had so much to take care of before that time came. And she and Jesus weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

  She looked out at the rolling hills she loved so much. Her gaze swung to the grove of trees where the ashes of Kenton, Rex, and Autumn were scattered and buried. Soon she’d join them.

  Below her, in the foliage softening the edges of the deck, a hummingbird hovered at the edge of a broad rhododendron leaf. Lettie watched as the hummer, spying a bit of moisture on the leaf’s surface from a recent rain, dipped its wings into the water and fluttered them, taking a bath with such exhilaration it brought tears to Lettie’s eyes. Suddenly, she was weeping—for all she’d been given and all that she’d lost.

  ###

  That night, Lettie was surprised to see Rafe’s truck coming up the driveway. Wondering if something had gone wrong at the wine show in San Francisco, she went to the front door to greet him.

  He got out of the truck and hurried toward her. “Paloma called me and told me to come right home. What’s going on?”

  Lettie opened her mouth to speak and was as surprised as he by the wail that left her mouth. She collapsed in his arms, crying so hard she couldn’t speak.

  White-faced, he picked her up in his arms and carried her inside to the living room couch. Sitting down beside her, he drew her into his lap and let her cry. “What is it, Lettie? Tell me.”

  She gave him the grim news about her health.

  “We’ll do everything we can to fight it,” Rafe announced with determination. “So many people beat cancer these days. You’ll be one of them.”

  Lettie shook her head. “I already talked to the doctor about it. He was very honest with me. Chemo would only prolong the agony. The cancer is too far spread, the disease too severe. Besides, I told him that I don’t want to make my last days full of my being sicker than I already am.”

  “Good God! I knew you weren’t feeling well, but this?” Rafe’s shoulders slumped. He covered his face with his hands. The sound of his sobs filled the room and the corners of her heart.

  When he lifted his head, his cheeks were wet with his tears. “We’ll have to tell Cami.”

  “Not yet,” said Lettie. “Remember how awful it was going through your mother’s death with cancer? Watching her linger, the waiting, the agony, the helplessness of seeing her like that? I want to avoid as much of that as possible for Cami. Understand?”

  “Okay, but we can’t hide it for too long. She’ll need time to get used to the idea of taking over for you.”

  Later, after Rafe brought in his suitcase and got settled, he climbed into bed with her. Drawing her into his arms, he held her tenderly. Stroking her back, he whispered, “I love you, Lettie. I don’t want to let you go.”

  “I’m not quite ready,” she said. “The thought of leaving you and my life here is too painful. Paloma says I’m to think of it as going home to Jesus. But my home is here with you and Chandler Hill.” She wiped her eyes.

  “Let me love you now,” he said. “No sex, just love.” He began by fingering her ears, cupping her breasts, trailing his hands down her body, moving down to the curves of her hips, following the lines of her legs, reaching her toes.

  “What are you doing?” Lettie whispered.

  “Memorizing you,” said Rafe, beginning to cry.

  His gentle hands on her felt so good, so real. “We’ll take it one day at a time, enjoy what we can,” he murmured.

  She nodded, but she knew her time would come too soon.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Lettie lay in bed waiting for Rafe to show up with Cami. The disease was the winner of every battle she’d fought in body and mind. She’d wanted to avoid having Cami suffer through this with her, but now she’d run out of time. Her final days had arrived with frightening speed.

  At the sound of Rafe’s truck in the driveway, Lettie tried to rise, but fell back against the pillows, too weak to get to her feet. It amazed her that her body, so strong, so healthy for most of her life, had turned into a fragile shell of her former self.

  Lettie heard the front door open and then the sound of feet running toward her.

  Cami burst into the room. “Nonnee! Nonnee! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve been here for you.”

  Lettie fought to smile. “I know, sweet girl. And now you are.”

  Crying softly, Cami threw her arms around Lettie. “I love you so much!”

  Lettie patted the bed beside her. “Have a seat. There’s so much I have to tell you.”

  Her words hollow with regret, Lettie told Cami about turning Chandler Hill over to her. “I’ve left behind some funds to help you, but it will be a challenge. However, with your background, I’m counting on you to beat it. After all, you’re both a Chandler and a Lopez.” She forced a smile. “You can’t beat that combination!”

  “Oh, Nonnee, it’s the best combination ever.” Tears flowed down Cami’s cheeks.

  Lettie hugged Cami to her chest and let her cry tears for them both.

  Thoughts of all she’d accomplished flooded her mind. The inn of today would be unrecognizable to Kenton and Rex. The vineyards were a spectacular sight—row upon row of healthy, cultivated grapes. And the wines? A delight to nose and tongue. She’d been given a challenge she’d often thought she’d never meet. But sometimes, at her lowest, the spirits of the Chandler men had carried her through.

  Sudden panic seized Lettie. She grabbed hold of Cami’s hand. “I want you to promise you’ll come home.”

  “Yes, Nonnee, I’m coming home. I’m not sure how I’ll succeed, but I’m going to try.”

  Lettie smiled at her and echoed the words Rex has spoken to her. “Good girl.”

  A ray of sunlight entered the room and hovered above them, spreading a lemony shade across the ceiling, shedding its light on them, like a blessing from above.

  ###

  Time passed in moments of wakefulness amid bouts of sleep. Past memories wove through Lettie’s thoughts. She recalled the first time she’d seen Chandler Hill, remembered Rex’s astonishment at her poetic description of the hills, recalled Kenton’s rescue of her in San Francisco. Other memories appeared and then faded—memories of Autumn as a baby, Abby and others working at the inn, images of Rafe as a young man, and finally, Cami as a baby.

  Lettie opened her eyes to find Rafe sitting in a chair beside their bed, Cami on the other side. She loved them so much.

  “I’ve had a good life thanks to both of you,” she said clearly, meaning it with all her heart.

  Tearful, Cami squeezed her hand.

  Lettie closed her eyes. It was time to go home.

  She felt Rafe’s lips on her cheeks.

  Then, moments later, she was in a field of flowers running toward three figures crying, “Kenton! Rex! Autumn! I’m here!”

  Thank you for reading Going Home. If you enjoyed this book, please help other readers discover it by leaving a review on your favorite site. It’s such a nice thing to do.

  Enjoy an excerpt from my book, Coming Home– A Chandler Hill Book (Book 2 in the Chandler Hill Series, which will be out in mid-2019.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Camilla Chandler walked through the vineyards at Chandler Hill in the Willamette Valley of Oregon toward the grove of trees that meant so much to her. The ashes of her grandmother, Violet “Lettie” Chandler, now resided there along with the
ashes of her mother, Autumn, Lettie’s husband, Kenton, and Rex Chandler, Lettie’s father-in-law and the original owner of the inn and winery that Cami had just inherited.

  The gray skies of this cool fall morning held a promise of rain, which suited her mood. The raindrops slated to fall would match the tears she’d somehow managed to hold onto after weeping for days at the loss of her grandmother, a woman beloved not only by Cami, but by all who knew her. For eighteen months of Cami’s first two years, Nonnee had raised her, forming an early, loving bond between them. And then, when Cami was only six, Lettie stepped in to take the place of Cami’s mother after Autumn was hit and killed by a car while jogging one day.

  Cami lifted her face to the sky and watched as a red-tailed hawk circled in the air above her and then glided down to perch on the limbs of a tall white oak, part of the collection of trees that was her destination. As her grandmother had done, Cami sought refuge and answers among the pine and hardwood trees that rose from the earth in a sturdy cluster—sentinels keeping watch over the vines that lined the hillsides like promises of good things to come.

  Cami entered the inner circle of the trees and sat on the stone bench that had been placed there long before her birth.

  “What a mess,” Cami blurted before she could stop herself. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wished she had worn her sweater. The crisp fall cold seeped into her bones as she began to cry. If Nonnee were here, she would hug her and tell her everything would be all right. But at the moment, nothing seemed all right. Especially after receiving the email from Bernard.

  Cami rocked in her seat, wishing there was an easy way to get rid of the pain. “Bernard Arnaud is a ... a ... jerk!” Her angry cry filled the air and bounced off the branches and boughs of the trees, making it seem as if their echoes confirmed her opinion of him.

  She could hear her grandmother’s words in her head. “Take a deep breath, darling, and begin at the beginning.”

  Following those silent instructions, Cami drew in air, straightened, and spoke aloud. “Nonnee, I thought he loved me. I thought he understood I had to come home to Chandler Hill, that I owed it to my family to be here. After our many months of being together, he called those days ... and nights ... a fun romance. And now, he doesn’t want to see me anymore! After I helped to bury you, he told me this in an email ... an email for God’s sake!”

  Cami fisted her hands as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “I feel so ... so ... stupid!”

  A sparrow landed on the ground not far from her and peered up at her with dark eyes, like a messenger sent by her grandmother. How she missed her!

  Cami bowed her head. As strange as others might think of it, sitting in the grove, giving up her secrets brought answers. Though all of her Chandler relatives were deceased, they still spoke to her in memories and in stories others shared about them. They were fine people—her mother, grandmother, and the two Chandler men who’d given Nonnee the challenge of making the Chandler Hill Inn and Winery what they were today. Now, it was up to Cami to keep the enterprise healthy and strong. She knew it was an inheritance some people would love to have, but with the breakup with Bernard, it had already cost her dearly. And at twenty-three, Cami wondered how she could ever meet the challenge Nonnee had passed on to her.

  The cool breeze blowing through the pines filled the air with whispers. Cami cocked her head to listen. No answers seemed clear but one. Somehow, she’d have to find the courage and strength within her to keep things going. If Nonnee, all five-feet-three inches of her, could do that, then so would she.

  Cami stood to leave. Hearing a noise behind her, she turned to see Rafe Lopez walking toward her. Her lips curved, and she lifted a hand in greeting. Her grandfather was a striking man in his early seventies who was struggling with Nonnee’s recent death. Cami and her grandfather, Rafe, had always had a close bond, and now that it was just the two of them living in Nonnee’s house, they’d grown even closer.

  She’d always called him Rafe, even as a child. When it was suggested she call him Grandpa, she’d stamped her toddler foot and said, “No! My Rafe!” He loved it then, and he loved it now.

  “Thought I’d find you here,” said Rafe. “Get a few things settled in your mind?”

  She smiled sadly. “There are no simple answers, are there?”

  He shook his head. “Life is anything but simple. May I sit with you?”

  “Sure.” She sat and indicated a place for him next to her. “What’s up?”

  “I just talked to Paloma. She’s decided to leave Chandler Hill to live in Arizona with her daughter and her family.”

  Cami’s eyes widened. “But Paloma has been almost as big a part of Chandler Hill as Nonnee.”

  “Yes, but now that her best friend is gone, and with her new inheritance, Paloma is free to leave.” The sadness in his eyes reflected her own. “A lot of things will never be the same.”

  “I heard that Abby wants to retire by the end of the year.” Cami let out a worried sigh. “Sometimes I feel so alone.”

  Rafe put an arm around her. “You’ve always got me. But I think it’s time for me to move. I’d like to take over the cabin after Paloma is gone. What do you say?”

  “You don’t want to stay in the house with me?” Cami asked, genuinely surprised.

  “Too many memories there. And the cabin is a special place for me. It’s where I first spent time with Lettie. Of course, after all the renovations we’ve done, it’s not a simple cabin anymore, but a very nice place for an old man like me.”

  Cami hugged him. “A very special old man. I’ll miss you, but I agree. It’s right for you to be on your own without worrying about me.” She studied him with tenderness. “But I’ll always be there for you, Rafe. A woman couldn’t have a better grandfather than you.”

  He cupped her face in his broad, strong hands. “You’ll never know what a gift you are to me, my granddaughter. I never suspected your mother was my child. When I found out, I cried with joy. And now I have you.”

  Cami had heard this story many times. It was a sweet one. She couldn’t help wondering who her own father was. It was something her mother had refused to divulge. But someday, maybe when things were in better shape at the inn, Cami intended to find out. She needed to know.

  Some families were complicated, she thought as she got to her feet once more. She held out a hand to her grandfather.

  He took it and rose. “Ready to go home?”

  “I guess so.” Home was as complex as her family.

  ###

  Cami sat in the office within the inn and stared out the window. The room and its history weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d met with lawyers regarding the transfer of ownership of the inn and vineyards from her grandmother to her, but when she’d asked to see information from the financial advisor, he’d sent her an accounting of Nonnee’s investments and requested that the meeting she wanted with him be postponed for two weeks while he dealt with some other issues. Overwhelmed by all the new information thrown at her, Cami had readily agreed.

  Now, it was time to decide which of her available funds she’d use for the upgrades to the guest rooms the inn manager, Jonathan Knight, was insisting be done. Jonathan, the young manager Nonnee had hired just before she was diagnosed with cancer, was not one of Cami’s friends. He’d all but sniffed his disapproval when Cami told him he would now report to her.

  “But you have no experience in the hotel business,” he’d protested. “I understand you studied Fine Arts in college. That certainly doesn’t qualify you to run an operation like this.”

  “Nevertheless, I own the entire business,” said Cami sweetly, though inwardly she was seething at the insulting tone of his voice.

  “Cami? Mr. Evans is here to see you,” announced Becca Withers, her assistant, startling her out of her memory of that encounter.

  Cami smiled. “Thanks, Becca. Please ask him to come on back.” Cami had had a couple of telephone conversations with him. Dirk Evans had sounded
very smart, very polished, very cocky.

  Becca showed Dirk into the office and, standing behind him, waved a discreet hand in front of her face to indicate she thought he was a hottie.

  Tall, with sun-streaked brown hair and fine features, he swept into the room and beamed at Cami. Through lenses in black eyeglass frames, his blues eyes surveyed her.

  From behind the desk, she rose to shake his hand. “Hello, Dirk. We meet at last.”

  “My pleasure. Photographs Lettie had of you on her desk don’t do you justice.”

  “Yes, well, have a seat and let’s get down to business, shall we?” Cami said briskly. “I want to talk to you about my grandmother’s portfolio. We’re about to start a renovation project at the inn, and I’m going to need to sell some more stocks.”

  All confidence seemed to evaporate from him. He sank into a chair and faced her with a look of despair. “We’ve had some disappointments. One in particular.”

  A niggling feeling crept through Cami like a python, squeezing her insides. “You’re not talking about the Montague Fund, are you? I directed you to sell that two weeks ago.”

  “Yes, I know. I tried to do that for you and all my clients, but there’s a problem. It turns out that the Montague Fund was basically a Ponzi scheme. Most of the money is gone. I’m working on getting back what I can. I’ve already begun filling out claim papers, but it’s going to take time for the Feds to sort through it.” He pushed his glasses further up on his nose. “I was given reliable information on the fund, so I’m not sure what went wrong.”

  Cami’s mouth went dry. She gripped the arms of her desk chair so tightly her fingers turned white. “What went wrong? My grandmother was a very conservative woman. I don’t believe she would have wanted you to invest her money in something like that. Was she aware of what you’d done? Did she approve?”

  “She told me to go ahead and do whatever I could to ensure you’d have enough money to carry on with the inn. The fund promised exceptional returns ...” his voice trailed off.