A Memory Away

by Melinda Curtis

  “You’re not nice,” Eunice said, doctoring her coffee.

  “I must have something going for me.” He felt a smile spreading on his face like the weeds he’d no doubt find in the vineyard after all this rain. “You keep coming back.”

  “It’s the coffee.” She’d put on red lipstick today. It marked the lip of her mug. “Women put up with a lot for a good cup of coffee.”

  “This I did not know.” He went back to staring at the bowl. It was as empty as the void in his chest.

  “That just goes to show how little you know about women.”

  Duffy opened his mouth to comment, but nothing came out. In an odd way, Eunice was right.

  * * *

  JESS WAS LONELY.

  Oh, she had Baby. But there was no Goldie with her conversational whines, no Eunice with her off-the-wall recipes, no Duffy. Really, that was it. There was no Duffy. She’d gotten used to his steady presence, his straightforward questions, his shoulder to lean on if she needed it.

  And the bakery. She missed Harmony Valley’s bakery. She felt welcome there, not a misfit like she did at Vera’s Bakery. Why had Vera thought she’d fit in there?

  Jess walked into Vera’s Bakery on Tuesday morning. There were polite greetings exchanged, but everyone was soon busy. Jess assembled ingredients for scones at her workstation.

  Vera stopped by. “Don’t scare me like that, chica. I wasn’t sure you’d come in today.”

  “I told you I’d be here.” Leave it at that. Leave it... Jess couldn’t. “Why did you hire me?”

  Her boss waved her hand as if the question was inconsequential. “I run a bakery. You were needing a six-month apprenticeship.”

  “But why me?” Jess had a feeling she knew.

  Vera frowned. “Are you asking for a raise since your apprenticeship is over? Because I’m not giving you one.” Before Jess could refute her assumption, Vera barreled on with the feistiness of the guilty. “Yes, you’ve been an asset. You make the flakiest croissants in town. And maybe our cakes are lighter now, too.”

  “Don’t forget the scones. They’re your bestseller.” Jess crossed her arms and looped the conversation back to the beginning. “You made me a job offer without interviewing me.”

  “And you accepted without coming to interview,” Vera countered.

  Because she’d been flattered. “You hired me because I have a Spanish last name. You assumed I’d speak fluent Spanish like the rest of the girls.”

  Vera nodded. “True enough. But I wouldn’t have hired you if you also didn’t come with the proper credentials.”

  She’d gotten her answers. Jess looked at the eggs, at the butter, looked at her life in a whole new light. “I don’t fit in here.” She wouldn’t have questioned anything if she hadn’t seen Martin’s Bakery in Harmony Valley.

  “You do just fine, chica.” The cupcake earrings swung over the rose tattoo on her neck. “You come, you bake, you get paid. Why do you need to fit in? What more do you want?”

  She wanted what she’d had in Harmony Valley. To belong, to have people interested in her as a person, not Jess the baker. But there was Baby to consider. And Duffy. The last thing she needed on her conscience was to take on a bakery she couldn’t handle and be put on Duffy’s to-take-care-of list.

  “You young people.” Vera shook her head. “Never satisfied with what they have.”

  “That’s because we know there’s something better waiting for us,” Jess murmured.

  * * *

  “THE VINEYARDS ARE still mostly puddles.” Duffy leaned against the kitchen counter in the winery offices where they were holding their staff meeting. “I’ve got my chain saw in the truck. Ryan and I can clear the tree from Parish Hill.”

  At the mention of power tools, Ryan’s eyes lit up as if he were a child counting down to an Easter Egg hunt.

  Goldie rolled onto her back and thrust her delicate legs into the air. Duffy doubted she’d like the roar of power tools as much as his coworker did.

  “If you’re headed up that way...” Christine topped off her coffee and returned the pot to the warmer. “Would you mind helping Slade and Flynn remove the tree from Rutgar’s porch, as well? I saw a picture of it and I think the job might need skills outside their wheelhouse.”

  Working on Rutgar’s house was not in his job description. Removing the old man’s tree fell under the heading of community involvement. And community involvement led to other favors, and other favors led to expectations, and pretty soon there went his weekends again. “Well, I...”

  “I wouldn’t ask, except I know Slade has never operated a chain saw and the tree is huge.” Christine’s eyes held a worried plea. She’d never tell Duffy to do it. “Plus my grandmother said you’ve been calling to check up on Rutgar in the hospital.”

  Ryan gave Duffy a double take. “You’ve been checking up on the big man?”

  “I carried him out of his house.” Duffy tried not to remember how Jess had looked down on him for not wanting to create ties to the community. “I’m allowed one phone call.” Or three.

  “You’re brilliant.” Ryan grinned as if his school loans had been paid off. “Rutgar will never get in our way again.”

  Duffy seriously doubted that, but he let the kid think he’d done it just to create some winery goodwill.

  “So you’ll help clear the tree?” Christine wasn’t letting him off the hook.

  “Aren’t there contractors for that?” Duffy scuffed his work boots on the wood floor. “Insurance agents and the like?”

  Christine shook her head. “Because most residents are older, they either can’t fix things themselves or they can’t afford to pay for the work. A five-hundred-dollar deductible can be devastating.” She smiled the smile of a woman unwilling to take no for an answer.

  “So you’ve cleared this with Rutgar?” Duffy asked. The tug to volunteer was stronger now, as if Jess were behind him urging him to accept. “He asked for help?”

  “Well...no...” Christine’s smile faded. “My grandmother had a feeling that he’d want to tackle it himself.”

  “Old fool would probably kill himself.” Part of the reason they hadn’t released Rutgar from the hospital was that he continued to have severe headaches and vertigo, side effects from his concussion.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Christine said. “Flynn and Slade are headed up to his house soon.”

  “Millionaire repair,” Duffy said half-under his breath. “That’s what they should call it.” When Christine raised a brow, he said louder, “I’ve seen them around town.” Slade, Flynn and their wives and buddies roped into cleaning out rain gutters and replacing missing roof shingles.

  “It’s not as if they don’t have real work to do themselves. They go through weeks where Flynn’s writing code and Slade’s on the road networking with potential buyers.” There was a note of pride in Christine’s voice. “They won’t admit it, but they enjoy the physical work, and taking care of others brings them satisfaction.”

  Of course, they would. They were millionaires.

  “Anyway.” Christine picked up her mug. “I know as a vineyard manager, you’ve probably supervised the removal of trees, fallen or upright. For my own peace of mind, could you head out there?”

  “Pretty please,” Ryan added. “I’ll help.”

  Goldie jumped on the bandwagon, sitting up and cocking her head.

  Jess would have approved.

  Which had nothing to do with him saying yes.

  * * *

  “WHAT’S THAT?” VERA CROWDED next to Jess to see what a courier had delivered. “A lease? What do you need a lease for? Are you moving?”

  The kitchen at Vera’s bakery was nearly empty. Only Jess, Vera and Rocio remained. The morning baking had been done. They were working at a slower pace no
w, filling orders for pies and special-occasion cakes to be picked up later in the afternoon.

  Jess lowered the sheaf of papers. “It’s nothing.” But her heart was pounding. Everything she’d been promised in Harmony Valley was outlined in the first few paragraphs. Rent free. Utilities free. Facilities up to code. Appliances provided. “They don’t have a bakery in Harmony Valley and they made me an offer to move there.”

  “What?” Vera shrieked. “After all I’ve done for you?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Lies,” she scoffed. “You tried to leave me before.”

  “Before...” Jess clutched the edge of the table.

  I paid the institute for the right to hire a master baker. And now—mere months after you arrive—you tell me you’re starting your own place? This had been followed by a string of words Jess hadn’t recognized. But the tone was clear—she’d turned her back on the woman who’d given her a chance.

  “You knew about Greg?”

  “Well...uh...” The heat left Vera’s expression. “I never knew your baby daddy’s name.” She waved her arm as if wiping a slate clean. “I knew he wanted you to go into business together. And then you had that accident and he disappeared. It all disappeared.”

  “You came to the hospital.” Minutes earlier, Jess had been trying to convince herself she was content. Now she was anything but. “When I told you I couldn’t remember being pregnant, you held me when I cried. You never mentioned anything about the details I didn’t remember.”

  “I was happy you were staying.” Vera’s gaze switched to calculating. “You are staying, no?”

  She doesn’t care about me. She never cared about me.

  Jess had been in a cage without ever knowing it. Her fingers had a moist hold on the lease. On freedom. “I thought we were friends.” Worse. She’d thought they’d formed a family of sorts. She’d put up with Vera’s outbursts and pendulum temper, because there was security in the kitchen.

  “I like you, chica. I want you to be happy here. Why do you think I encouraged you to find someone?”

  Jess shrugged, but it felt like an act of surrender.

  All those months. The fear of the unknown. Vera said nothing.

  “I figured if you found someone, you’d stay.” Vera sharpened her stance and her voice. “You’re a hard worker. I can rely on you. Tell me I can rely on you.”

  In the corner of the kitchen, Rocio had stopped sweeping and was staring at Jess. She wasn’t as skilled a baker as Jess, but Rocio had talent. The bakery would go on if Jess left. Their scones wouldn’t be as good, but the bakery would continue.

  Jess couldn’t lie to herself. There was a part of her that wanted to remain here. And in that regard she was no better than Duffy, drawing into a shell because life had been hard before.

  But she couldn’t quit, not mere weeks before Baby was due. She had no real savings to speak of and no one would hire a pregnant woman, not to mention, Vera might not give her a reference.

  “I’m trapped here.” The papers shook in her hand as if they were trying to catch her attention, pointing to a means of escape, one that was too difficult to reach. “I don’t think I can stay.”

  Vera was shouting, but Jess couldn’t hear above the rushing noise in her ears.

  She couldn’t stay. And she couldn’t go to Harmony Valley. What was she going to do?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  DUFFY ARRIVED AT Rutgar’s with Ryan, Goldie and a fair amount of reluctance.

  “Did my fiancée send you?” Slade’s question would have been off-putting if not for the trace of humor. He came over to the truck. His blue jeans were new. His jacket was new. Most likely his experience with big fallen trees was new, as well. “Christine thinks we’re going to kill ourselves.”

  Duffy noted where they’d placed a ladder—leaning on the fallen tree that was balanced on the porch—took in their lack of rope either on the ground or tied to the tree with something to stabilize it, and the small size of their chain saw, and sighed. “Christine was right.”

  Ryan turned to Duffy and whispered so only he could hear, “I so worship you right now.”

  “I was just about to search online for a fallen-tree-removal how-to video.” Flynn raised his phone. At least his clothes looked like they’d seen a hard day’s work. “We’d have figured it out.”

  “Probably after one of you was flattened by that tree.” Duffy didn’t relish putting the men who signed his paycheck in their place. But he did want them to live so they could continue to sign his paychecks. He reached in the truck for the necessities—safety goggles, gloves, Goldie.

  Ryan hurriedly produced his own goggles and gloves.

  The little dog began a perimeter search, nose to the ground. Duffy hoped she didn’t rile something that would eat her. It wasn’t unheard of out here to come across foxes, bears or mountain lions.

  “You two can go back to work.” Slade pulled the boss card, too late in Duffy’s opinion. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Trouble is...” Duffy bit back his annoyance as he tugged the goggles over his head, leaving them looped around his neck. “We don’t report to you. Christine sent us to do a job.”

  Other than a woodpecker hard at work, there was no sound on the mountain.

  “We’re not going to win this fight,” Slade said to his business partner. “If we send them away, Christine will show up next.”

  “With my wife.” Flynn shrugged in defeat.

  Duffy opened the tailgate, grateful the two men were open to reason. “Why is it I only ever see you two working around town? Where’s Will?” The third business owner.

  “He’s buried deep in some code he’s trying to crack for a new app we’re creating.” Flynn earned points by slipping on a pair of work gloves. “Once he gets his part done, I’ll be wrestling with the graphics.”

  “And once it looks semisuccessful...” Slade also had gloves. His were unmarked tan suede. “I’ll be setting up meetings to see where we can sell it.”

  Duffy dragged the chain saw case closer and flipped open the lid.

  Ryan hung over the side of the truck bed, practically salivating. Flynn and Slade started to laugh.

  “That thing is huge.” Flynn punched Slade’s shoulder. “Makes the saw we bought look like a starter set.”

  “Have you used that thing before?” Slade eyed it, and then took stock of Duffy with newfound respect.

  “This isn’t my first rodeo, boys.” Duffy took in the wear and tear on the saw and smiled. He was as bad as Ryan, excited to use his equipment. Jess was right. He did have a wild side.

  It took several hours to clear the tree and cut it into chunks that dropped safely to the ground. Once Duffy had the tree clear, the winery owners were more in their element. They shored up the porch with support beams, and removed the cracked and damaged wood.

  Flynn’s father stopped by at one point. He was a grayer, wirier version of Flynn. His truck wasn’t new or shiny. He had a lockbox filled with tools in his truck bed and wore work boots that looked as if he’d had them for twenty years. The older man surveyed their progress, nodded at Duffy and said, “You’ll do.” He left them a box of shingles, roofing nails and a new rain gutter.

  Duffy and Ryan packed up their tools, preparing to make the short trip to the Parish Hill vineyards and clear the driveway of the fallen tree. Goldie wasn’t so gold anymore. Her coat was mud-darkened and wet. But the look on her face was dog nirvana. She’d barely flinched when they ran the chain saw. She must have been a Labrador in another life.

  “Thanks for all your help.” Flynn shook Duffy’s hand.

  Slade was next in line to thank him. “What are you doing later? There are more trees and branches around town that need removal. And we can always use a helping hand when things come up.”


  Warning bells rang in Duffy’s head. Ding-dong, freedom is dead. “Like a regular thing?”

  “Yeah.” Slade wasn’t picking up on Duffy’s hesitation. “What are you doing this weekend? We were thinking the reason we aren’t successfully luring any doctors here is that the old clinic is...well, old.”

  “Needs some work,” Flynn agreed.

  A gust of wind worked its way past Duffy’s jacket, tensing his shoulders. “Sorry, guys. I was planning on driving up the coast this weekend.”

  Flynn and Slade regarded him as if he were one of their unsolved strings of code. Ryan shook his head as he retreated to the truck. Duffy could only imagine what Jess might have said had she been here. But he couldn’t say yes. He just couldn’t.

  “Well,” Flynn said, filling the awkward silence, “if you change your mind, you won’t have to look far to find us.”

  The two men walked toward the house.

  Guilt gripped the back of Duffy’s neck. Or maybe it was muscle fatigue from hours of wielding a chain saw.

  “Hey,” Flynn said to Slade. “When we’re done, let’s stop by the bakery and see if they got the power turned on.”

  “Why?” Duffy asked. “Did Jess accept?” He didn’t like the eager way he’d asked, as if he cared if she accepted or not. His life would be easier if she turned them down.

  “She hasn’t said yes. Not yet.” Slade turned around. “But I have a good feeling about Jessica. The mayor sent her the lease today so she’d have the offer in writing.”

  * * *

  “YOU WERE TRAPPED in a moat-flooded town for three days, and your life changed.” Ryan dragged a branch off to the side of the vineyard’s drive.

  Duffy looked up from lubricating the chain saw. “What are you talking about?”

  “You got a dog and a girlfriend.”

  The wind seemed to swirl at Duffy’s ankles, circling, shackling him to obligations he hadn’t asked for. Duffy chose his next words carefully. “I’m fostering a dog, and my brother’s girlfriend came to visit.” Duffy saw again Jessica’s soft smile, heard her gentle laughter, could almost feel the strength of her hand in his. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and glared at Ryan. “You gossip like an old lady.”