A Fine Year for Love (Shores of Indian Lake)

by Catherine Lanigan

  She would have been lying if she said she didn’t like his kiss, but she would also have been lying if she allowed him to take another.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was just the sunset...and you’re so beautiful...” He looked into her eyes.

  Liz knew instinctively that he was asking for another kiss. “Apology accepted,” she said tersely, straightening her back. “I need to get home. I left my truck at the train station. Can you drop me off there, please?”

  “Don’t be mad.” He hopped off the table and held out his hand.

  Liz didn’t take it. “I’m not mad at you,” she said. “It’s just that this isn’t a road I want to go down with you.”

  He put his outstretched hand in his pocket. “You really are mad.”

  She started walking toward the car. “Gabe, I’m not like the other girls you take out. I’m not going to fall into your arms. I’m not going to become some clinging vine until you decide to uproot me. So it would be best if you save the charm for someone else.”

  He rushed up to her and grabbed her arm. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “I shouldn’t have done that. And you’re right. You aren’t just any woman to me. I was hoping we could become friends. I really like you, Liz. I was hoping you would like me, too.”

  She exhaled, dropping her shoulders. “I do.”

  “Truthfully?” He brightened, but only a bit. “That’s good news.”

  “But even as I stand here, Gabe, I still get the feeling you’re after something. You want something from me. If it’s not a kiss, then what is it?”

  Gabe swallowed hard. It was now or never. “Liz, would there be any circumstances under which you would consider...er...selling your fallow land?”

  Liz dropped her jaw and gaped at him. “You’re serious?”

  “I could be.”

  “The land I just told you that my father, whom I loved more than life itself, put all his heart and soul into...you want me to sell it to you? A novice vintner?”

  “Liz, I’m very good at what I do. You saw that at the blind tasting. I know wines better than anyone. Maybe even better than you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she fumed.

  Anger was the last reaction he’d wanted from Liz. Her passion for making wine was a carbon copy of his, and it just seemed natural that joining forces would benefit them both. Obviously, she didn’t feel that way. She was possessive and controlling, and she thought he was an intruder. Again. If he didn’t make himself clear to her, he was going to lose her friendship and trust completely.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I was trying to say your land would be in capable hands. I would do it justice, and I have the money set aside to build it into what I can only guess your father envisioned for it. I’ve worked hard all my life. I don’t bet on my brother’s horses or blow my money on stupid stuff. I’ve invested wisely and it has paid off. I’ve always known what I wanted. I’m ready to make my move, Liz. You could help me.”

  “Help you? I hardly know you. This is too much, Gabe!” She strode away from him.

  Gabe raced after her. “Liz, please. Listen to me. This could be good for both of us.”

  She whirled around, her eyes blazing at him with an anger he’d only seen when facing himself in a mirror after a fight with his father. “Get this straight, Gabriel Barzonni. I’m not selling my land to you or anyone else. I don’t need you. I don’t need your money! Grandpa and I have been just fine all this time without any help from anyone. You got that?”

  “Why would I think I was helping you? I was talking about a straight-up business deal,” Gabe said. “What’s going on here, Liz?”

  She clamped her lips shut and glared at him. “I just want to go home.” She marched over to his car and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

  “Talk to me,” he demanded.

  “No.”

  “Fine. Don’t. If I can’t get around that wall you’ve built, then there’s no use.”

  He hit the remote to unlock the car. Liz got in and slammed the door.

  Gabe started the car and spun gravel beneath his tires as they left the cove behind.

  * * *

  LIZ HAD NEVER ridden silently in a vehicle with another person before, and she didn’t like it. Gabe was stoic and she knew there was nothing she could say.

  If this were a “straight-up business deal,” then why were they both so emotional about it? She slipped her eyes toward him and saw the hurt look on his face. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she would be so concerned with his emotions when she hadn’t deciphered her own yet.

  Gabe was right.

  She had kept a barricade around her heart. For years. But this...feeling she had when she was with Gabe was growing in strength, and it frightened her. Her first impulse was to eliminate the cause of the fear. If she didn’t see Gabe again, if she didn’t kiss him again, she wouldn’t be so afraid.

  They pulled up to the train station and Gabe parked his car next to Liz’s old pickup. He kept the engine running.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Liz said, feeling oddly guilty.

  “I really meant it when I said I was sorry, Liz. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I’m not going to say I’m sorry for liking it so much.” His tone was sincere. “But I didn’t mean to upset you so much.”

  “Okay,” she said and got out of the car.

  She walked around to her truck and drove away while Gabe remained behind.

  Liz glanced at him in her rearview mirror. He sat still, watching her. Waiting patiently.

  Today he’d huddled with her under the umbrella, brought his car around to Maddie’s café so she wouldn’t have to walk in the rain and given her a ride home. Now he was waiting to make sure she was safe.

  It was her guess that by the time she got home, she’d have a text from him to make sure she made it without incident.

  As she drove out of the train station, she shook her head.

  Gabe’s offer had stirred her ever-present fears. She still had not found the cashier’s check, even after going through all her purses and Sam’s desk drawers for a third time. The weight of the pending tax bill was forcing her to think out of her comfort zone. More than anything, Liz had wanted to fulfill her father’s dream of planting the fallow land. But that dream was quickly fading.

  If she sold the land, the profit would dig them out of debt and give them a small reserve to make it through the winter.

  Selling the land would solve their financial problems, but the idea made Liz uneasy, even incensed. If she were honest with herself, though, the real cause of her growing anger was that it had been Gabe who’d brought up the idea. They’d had a lovely afternoon together, but was his romancing just a ploy to get her to sell to him?

  She felt her insides twist, and an acrid taste filled her mouth. Betrayal always tasted rancid, Sam had once told her.

  Had Gabe been after her land this whole time? When he’d said he liked her and wanted to get to know her, she’d believed him. He’d seemed absolutely sincere, sharing intimacies about himself and his parents, and she’d actually bet her own emotions on it. But this put a new slant on every word he’d said to her. She felt as if she was looking at Gabe through a cloud of dark smoke.

  Right now, Liz felt plain stupid. She should have seen through him, figured out his game plan before he’d let it play out. He’d used her, and though she knew he needed her to attain his goals, she felt diminished nonetheless.

  None of her real friends had ever made her feel this bad about herself.

  Clearly, Gabe was not her friend.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  LIZ ARRIVED AT HOME and saw all the house lights burning as she parked the truck, reminding
her of her late-night return from Maddie and Nate’s engagement party. The tasting room had been battened down, but Louisa’s lamp in her attached apartment was still on. Though it was not even ten o’clock, she’d expected her grandfather to be asleep as he usually was by this time.

  As she walked in the front door, she was careful that her heels did not hit the old oak floor and make noise. She needn’t have bothered.

  “It’s about time you came home,” Sam grumbled from the living room, where he was sitting in his recliner.

  His hands were on the arms of the chair as if he were ready to spring forward at any moment. “You don’t need to get up, Grandpa,” she said.

  “Where were you?” he asked angrily. “I’ve been worried sick all day and when you didn’t answer your cell phone...”

  “My phone?” Liz slapped her palm against her forehead. “I completely forgot! I turned it off when the lecture started and never turned it back on.” She dug in her purse and pulled it out. The screen was black. She looked back to her grandfather. “I’m sorry—” she began, and then stopped abruptly. “You knew I was in Chicago.”

  “I knew nothing of the sort. Why would I? You didn’t leave a note or anything.” He was frowning, but as he cocked his head to the side, Liz detected a flicker of guilt in his expression. He remained silent and blinked slowly and deliberately, as he often did lately. Liz didn’t know exactly when this habit had started, but she had realized it was indicative of his need to concentrate. Liz didn’t know if he was purposefully trying to keep her attention focused on him, or if he had truly lost his train of thought. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

  “You knew where I was,” she retorted with a raised voice.

  “I most certainly did not,” he countered, scrunching his eyebrows together.

  She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head. “You have known about the lecture for months. This morning I gave you a hug before I left. You told me to take good notes and tell you everything I learned at the lecture. You even said that next year you want to buy a ticket for yourself.”

  “What lecture?” Sam asked sheepishly. He visibly dialed down his anger.

  It was happening again. “You forgot.”

  “I did?”

  “Uh-huh. I bought a ticket to this symposium and wine tasting months ago.” She turned her cell phone on and glanced at it. There were eight missed calls from her grandfather. If she hadn’t been with Gabe all afternoon and evening, she would have thought to check her messages. But she’d been caught up in her emotions and, honestly, in trying to forget the vineyard for a day. Her neglect had caused her grandfather great distress. “I’m really sorry, Grandpa. I should have thought to call to check on you.”

  “I don’t need to be checked on,” he said defensively.

  “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” In the past, when she’d caught him in one of his senior’s moments, she’d tried to pretend it was funny, as he did, and laugh it off. But this was much more serious. He’d spent the day worrying about her unnecessarily. That kind of concern wasn’t good for him, and she didn’t deserve this cloak of guilt that descended on her every time he forgot her whereabouts or misread her actions.

  What frightened Liz most was the possibility they were headed down a dead-end road if her grandfather was developing Alzheimer’s or something similar. She loved him with all her heart, but already she could tell she was ill-equipped to deal with a disease as debilitating as dementia.

  Liz would need guidance and counseling in order to cope with the challenges, heartbreaks and day-to-day expectations of being Sam’s caregiver.

  Immediately, she thought of Nate and his connections at the hospital. Surely he would know where she should turn. She made a mental note to call his office on Monday morning.

  For the moment, just being patient, caring and practical seemed the best course of action.

  “I never meant to worry you, Grandpa. Did you ask Louisa or Maria about me? They knew where I was.”

  “I did not,” he said emphatically and with an air of self-possession. “Louisa went to town to shop and Maria spent the day in the vines with Aurelio.”

  “So you didn’t even try to find them?”

  “No,” he replied with chagrin. “I thought you would call me.”

  “Here’s what I think, Grandpa. From now on, we should have some new rules. When you can’t find me or I don’t answer my cell, which could be for a lot of different reasons, you promise to talk to Louisa, Maria or Aurelio. I never leave the vineyard without making certain every single person knows where I am.”

  Sam stared at his own phone. “Okay.”

  Liz exhaled. “Then tomorrow morning, I’ll tell them the new rule. How’s that?”

  “Fine.”

  “Grandpa,” she said, kneeling on the floor next to his chair, “I don’t want you to ever worry like this again. It’s not fair, and it’s unnecessary. I was fine all day. I was in the city, and after the lecture, I went to Maddie’s new café.”

  “Maddie?” He raised his head and looked at her blankly.

  Liz felt her blood turn to ice. This couldn’t really be happening to them. Sam wasn’t that old, and he was the picture of excellent health. “Maddie Strong. Her new franchise café is in Chicago. You remember?”

  He smiled and tossed his head back. “Of course. Her new place in Chicago. I couldn’t figure out what you were talking about. How you could be at Maddie’s café in town and the lecture in Chicago at the same time.”

  Relief flooded Liz like a summer rain after a killing drought. Sam was fine. They’d just had a misunderstanding. Her nerves were on edge, no doubt due to Gabe having kissed her and then having offered to buy her father’s land. She was reading too much into the situation with her grandfather. He’d been alone in the farmhouse all day—he just hadn’t thought to call anyone else. That’s all it was. Wasn’t it?

  Liz squeezed his hand.

  He grinned broadly at her. “So, how was it? If I do recall correctly, there was going to be a tasting. How did you do?” he asked as if he hadn’t missed a beat.

  “Okay, I guess. But it was Gabe who bested even the editors.” Liz stopped herself immediately. She’d said Gabe’s name without even thinking. It had just come out.

  “Barzonni was there?”

  “Yes.” She got up and sat on the faded gold brocade sofa across from him.

  Sam leveled a pointed gaze on his granddaughter and folded his arms across his chest. “I find that very interesting. I’ve never heard of him showing up at one of those lectures in all the years you’ve been attending them.”

  “Grandpa, I only go to one a year. They’re so expensive. Besides, Gabe is a vintner now, and he’s planning to make a fine wine in the years to come.”

  Sam harrumphed. “That’ll be the day. Mario Mattuchi never grew diddly on that land of his.”

  “He never really tried, according to Sophie. His land is like our fallow land. It’s just waiting to be nurtured.” She watched her grandfather’s eyes focus on the front window, tracking from the dark yard to the tasting room apartment, where Louisa’s single lamp was still lit. Liz couldn’t tell if his mind was wandering or if he was in deep thought, but she waited for him to continue.

  “Yours is one of the best palates in the Midwest,” he finally said. “Probably even better than your father’s was, and that’s saying something. I would have liked to have seen you take all those experts on.” He smiled to himself. “That would have been something. But you didn’t try?”

  She shook her head. “There wasn’t time.”

  “Barzonni stole the show.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Actually, that was very smart of you.”

  “It was?” she asked.

  “From this day forward, we have to be aware that Ba
rzonni is our competition. Maybe not this year or next, but in the future. He’s new to the game and needs someone—you, for instance—to guide him.” Sam nodded as if confirming his own suspicions. “I think you were wise to play your cards close to your vest. Tell him nothing. Though even the tourists learn a great deal on their visits.” He tapped his temple. “The rest is up here. Past experience. You remember that.”

  Liz lifted her chin in assent. “Right, Grandpa.”

  She was thoughtful for a long moment. One half of her was swimming in a warm blue sea of unfamiliar romantic dreams, and the other part of her was siding with her grandfather.

  Something had to be wrong to make her feel this conflicted. Her grandfather was right. Gabe was competition. It was in the best interest of her vineyard for her to wheedle as much information as possible about his exact intentions for his vineyard. Two could play at his game. If he planned to plant only Malbecs, as he’d told her, then there was no need for real concern. Liz and Sam had never planted Malbecs, so they wouldn’t be direct competitors.

  In the future, Liz had to be more cautious than she’d been today. Now that she knew Gabe wanted to buy her land, she understood how serious he was about winemaking. She couldn’t reveal any more about her processes, marketing or future plans. She carefully scrutinized the conversations they’d had earlier and was relieved she hadn’t given away anything vital.

  She’d failed miserably by enjoying their kiss. She had no idea if he’d enjoyed kissing her, since he’d apologized, but there had been an odd, stunned light in his eyes that made her wonder.

  “I don’t know what to make of him, Grandpa,” Liz finally said. “When we drove back to town, he talked an awful lot about his childhood and his family.”