A Fine Year for Love (Shores of Indian Lake)

by Catherine Lanigan

  “Thank you, dear. I want you to know I was always true to your father. He’s jealous and controlling, but I never gave him cause to doubt my loyalty to him. It’s because Angelo knows I fell in love with Sam all those years ago that he wants to control your connection with Liz. He believes if he allows her into the family, I’ll be thrown into Sam’s arms, and maybe the next time he won’t be able to stop it.”

  Gabe looked at his mother’s sad face. “Maybe he’s right to worry.”

  “Maybe.”

  “The one thing I know about my father is that he’s been a tyrant all his life. He thinks he can control everything—even the weather. But none of us can control anything, especially not another person’s feelings.”

  “Although I believed and felt that Sam had feelings for me back then, he never came out and said it. Sam told me tonight he’d fallen in love with me back then, and when I told him I’d felt the same, we both realized we’d lost thirty-five years. I’m not going to leave your father. I believe in my commitment and I take my marriage vows seriously. I made the wrong choice back then. I didn’t speak up when I had the opportunity to do so. I didn’t believe enough in my own feelings to act on them. I chose the path of duty.”

  “And you’re going to do it again. Choose your duty.”

  “I am. I owe your father that much. I could never give him my love, but I can give him my promise.”

  Gabe exhaled. “You’re an amazing woman, Mother. I don’t know if I could ever be that strong. I don’t know if I’d even want to.”

  “I hope this helps you to understand this underlying feud, as I guess you might call it, between Angelo and Sam. It’s been going on for thirty-five years.”

  “And it will probably continue for another thirty.”

  “So, if you and Liz do work things out, you need to understand your father’s motivations. I’m sorry, Gabe. I really am.” She reached over and touched his worried face.

  “One more thing...I want to talk a little more about duty.”

  “What about it?”

  “Liz feels obligated to carry out her father’s dream of making her vineyard the best in the nation. She’s put her entire life on hold trying to make that happen. She’s gambled everything she’s got on it. Her vineyard and her grandfather are everything to her. I get the feeling that her sense of duty is just as ingrained as yours. And according to you, nothing will shake a woman out of that kind of commitment. Not even true love.”

  Gabe felt his heart sink. That kind of duty was what bound Liz—and kept her away from him. Hopelessness clung to his heart.

  Gina looked away from Gabe to the darkening highway as they drove through the night. “Unfortunately, Gabriel, you’re right. Not even true love can shake a woman free.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE INDIAN LAKE Sunflower Festival was held the third weekend in September of every year. Kids, grannies, moms and dads competed with one another all summer long to nurse the sixteen-foot Sunzilla sunflowers and the spectacular Titan with its twenty-four-inch-wide face and lush golden petals. Then the entrants had to muster up the nerve to cut down their prizes for the competition and haul them in trucks and cars to the cordoned-off, three-block area of Maple and Main Streets. There, judges awarded prizes for the tallest flower, the flower with the widest and most colorful face, and even for the flower with the most petals. As the years had passed the growers had become more knowledgeable about their hybrids. In order to accommodate everything from midsize Chocolate Cherry sunflowers to Moulin Rouge sunflowers, with their dark burgundy petals, the festival had increased the number of categories. Now there were blue ribbons for dozens of achievements.

  The past few weeks had meant backbreaking work for all the farmers in the area as they had finished the bulk of the harvesting. It was time for a bit of fun, and the sunflower festival was just that.

  For Liz, the festival was an opportunity to advertise the winery. Just yesterday she’d gone to Hawkins Printers and picked up her newly designed brochures and flyers. At the festival, local merchants, artists and vendors rented tents and booths in which to sell their wares. Due to local laws, Liz couldn’t sell her wine at the booth, but she could pass out brochures, direct buyers to their tasting room north of town and, most important, take orders.

  Sam had been looking forward to the festival for a month. It was one of the highlights of his summer, he always said. This year, Louisa would be experiencing the festival for the first time. Liz was filled with more anticipation than ever before.

  This was also the first year Liz had tried her hand at growing sunflowers. Louisa had encouraged her in the spring, claiming that not only were they her favorite flower, but that back in southern France it was nearly a patriotic duty to grow them, since they reminded natives and tourists of van Gogh’s and Gauguin’s paintings. Louisa had her favorites—Lemon Queen and Van Gogh, of course—but Liz preferred the Early Russian type. So they’d planted all three.

  With the nutritional aid of Liz’s organic compost, the sunflowers had grown tall, colorful and resplendent. Birds had fed on the fatty seeds and bees had flocked to the wide seed pods. Liz agreed completely that the sunflower garden had been an excellent addition to the vineyard.

  Though Louisa was excited about the contest at the sunflower festival, Liz believed it was only charitable to tell Louisa the truth.

  “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Louisa,” Liz said. She filled a crockery vase with Early Russian and a smattering of Moulin Rouge sunflowers to display in their tasting room. “Everyone in town knows Bella Mattuchi will win the grand prize. Her sunflowers are truly the best. I don’t know what she does to cultivate such prizewinners, but it works out year after year.”

  Louisa clamped her fist onto her hip. “It’s the slope where she grows them. There’s not a single branch to block the sun.”

  “We have plenty of sun,” Liz argued.

  “It’s not the same. Her land is like my garden in France. Magnifique!” Louisa replied glumly as she touched the petals of a Hopi Black Dye sunflower. “We have more variety, n’est-ce pas?”

  “We do. And your Kong hybrids are over fourteen feet tall. Even if we don’t win the grand prize, we’ll win something. I just know it.”

  Liz was sharply aware that Gabe had not texted, called or emailed her since the night of the shower. She didn’t like it. She wasn’t certain if he was avoiding her, if he was simply too busy with the harvest or if there was something else. Had he taken his father’s commands to heart? She found that hard to believe, yet the silence was killing her.

  The realization that she was falling in love with him had put a new perspective on everything. He occupied more of her thoughts than the worries about the missing check, the tax payments or the necessity for strong sales in the tasting room. Suddenly, the hours passed agonizingly slowly as she waited to hear from him. Although she’d tried to convince herself that everything between them was fine, she needed to talk to him. Hear his voice. See him, face-to-face. Liz had never been the one to initiate anything between the two of them, but perhaps the time had come for her to step up.

  She dug in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone and sent Gabe a text.

  Are you going to the Sunflower Festival? I was hoping to see you.

  There. That should get his attention. Quickly, she put the phone back and breathed.

  Not two minutes later, Liz’s cell phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She pulled it out and saw that Gabe had replied. She could feel a very big smile on her face.

  “I bet I know who that is.” Louisa grinned playfully and then sashayed away.

  Liz read the text and frowned.

  No.

  Now Liz knew something had happened after the shower. She’d just told Gabe where she was going and she practically broadcasted that she wanted to see him. It had been a week s
ince the party and whatever it was, she’d just been relegated to second on his list because of it. She felt her spirits dissipate. She didn’t know what the problem was, but she wanted Gabe back to the way they were. Her fingers flew over the phone keyboard.

  Why not? I guarantee the smoked ribs will be the best ever this year. I’ll treat.

  The pause was long enough for Liz’s hopes to wither.

  Then her phone buzzed and she read his reply.

  Is this a bribe? Or out-and-out wooing?

  Liz’s relief spread across her face in a bright smile. He was back to his humorous banter. Though she sensed that something was holding him back or even away from her, somehow, she’d said the right thing at the right time. She was amazed, as calm spread through her, how tense she’d become over his response.

  Definitely wooing. Will I see you?

  My mother wants to enter her sunflowers in the contest. I’ve just volunteered to bring her to town. I’m guessing Sam will be with you?

  Liz was in the middle of writing back when her phone rang. It was Gabe.

  “Hi,” she said. “I just got your text.”

  “I decided to call.”

  “I’m glad. I haven’t heard from you since the party and I wondered, well, if you were okay.”

  “I’ve been busy. Harvest. Contracts,” he said in a faraway tone that led her to believe someone had just walked through the room...and that Gabe didn’t want that person to know she was on the other end of the phone. Or that he really had been avoiding her. But why? After a long pause, he spoke in a rush. “I’ll be bringing Mom to town for the competition. Where will you be?”

  Liz flushed. Ever since she’d discovered the truth about Sam and Gina, she’d felt closer to Gabe. She believed him that he’d been at her parents’ funeral. It all made sense. Many things made sense to her now that had not before.

  She understood Gabe and his desires to leave his father’s business and build a life of his own in a way she hadn’t before. Angelo’s jealousy and his need to protect—even keep captive—all that was his, including his wife and sons, must have created a stifling atmosphere for Gabe and his brothers. It was no wonder Nate had run away the first chance he’d gotten—and stayed away. Liz also understood Gabe’s unswerving sense of duty to his mother, and even to his father. He wanted to help keep the family business profitable and, eventually, expand it.

  Gabe had won Liz’s admiration.

  “I didn’t tell you. We have a booth this year. We did so well with our booth at Sarah’s carnival for St. Mark’s that Sam thought we should give this festival a try.”

  “Good thinking,” Gabe said. “So what time?”

  “In about an hour. We’ll all be going, even Louisa. She’s gathering our sunflowers.”

  He groaned in reply.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My mother has five entries this year. She’s going to be brokenhearted if she doesn’t win something. It’s bad enough Bella Mattuchi wins all the time, but I bet your flowers are going to beat everyone’s in town.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Let me put it this way. Did you sing to them like you do your vines?” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper that sent shivers down Liz’s arms.

  “I did,” she admitted.

  “Then we’re toast.”

  * * *

  ONCE IN TOWN, at the corner of Main and Maple, Liz and Aurelio hauled the tables to the little blue canvas tent. In the booth beside them, Maddie was setting up her cupcakes.

  “Hi, Liz!” Maddie exclaimed as she placed a double-sized yellow frosted cupcake on the top of a four-tiered tower. She licked a smidge of frosting from her finger and threw her arms around Liz. “How are you? You look fantastic in that dress.”

  “Do I look too much like a sunflower myself? I found it in my mother’s closet. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

  “Good for you! Recycle. Reuse. It’s perfect on you.”

  “Is Nate here?” Liz asked, glancing around.

  Maddie shook her head. “An emergency up at the reservation clinic. But after he’s finished, he’s coming here. He said he wouldn’t miss the baby back rib contest.”

  Liz smiled broadly. “Grandpa says the men come for the smoked ribs and the women come to shop. And that even the losers in the rib contest are winners.”

  “Men,” Maddie harrumphed as she opened another bakery box of her confections. “All they think about is their stomachs.” Then she laughed heartily. “Thank goodness!”

  Liz glanced over to the tent next to Maddie’s and saw Isabelle Hawks’s familiar sign. “Isabelle is here, too?”

  “Yeah, she just went to her car to get more paintings. I hope she does well this year. She’s getting so discouraged about her art. No gallery has stepped forward yet, and she’s sent out over a hundred résumés and portfolios.”

  Liz inhaled deeply, knowing how hard Isabelle had worked on her art, and how discouraging those rejections must be. “I have to give her credit, though. She never stops. She just keeps at it. I don’t think I’d be that resilient.”

  “Me neither.” A patron walked up and asked for a half dozen cupcakes. “Talk to you later, Liz.”

  “Sure.” Liz turned just in time to see Sam carrying a tote bag filled with the brochures, bottles of water, pens and all-important order forms. “I hope we have everything,” he said.

  Liz unfolded a canvas chair for him. “It’s warmer than I thought it would be. Maybe I should have brought a fan. We could overheat in here.”

  Sam glanced at the front table, where Louisa was placing brochures in a plastic holder that would keep them from flying away. “There’s a little breeze.”

  “Not much of one,” Liz grumbled. “If it gets bad later, I’ll have Aurelio go back home and bring the fan and an extension cord.”

  “Would you stop fussing?” Sam scolded.

  Aurelio returned from the truck with a portable wooden display shelf he’d made for them. Liz draped the table at the back of the booth in dark purple cloth then placed a short easel with photos of the tasting room and vineyard on top. She arranged a display of empty wine bottles on the shelves, then wrapped an artificial grape vine garland around the top of the display and wove a crystal strand of lights into it.

  The back of the booth looked festive and inviting.

  Louisa considered the display. “If I don’t win a prize for my sunflowers, we can put them in a vase next to the wine bottles.”

  “Omigosh! Your flowers,” Liz said, her eyes widening. “We have to get them down to the judging stand right away!”

  “Grandpa, you can take care of this till we get back, right?”

  “Absolutely, ma petite!” He grinned proudly.

  “Okay. I have my cell phone if you need me.” Liz scooted out of the booth. “C’mon, Louisa. Let’s get your flowers.”

  “Our flowers,” Louisa corrected her.

  The streets were filling up with tourists and townspeople, and as Liz and Louisa carried their sunflowers toward the judges’ booth, they saw the other entrants arriving with their precious sunflowers, as well.

  Talking to Calvin Craig, the head of the sunflower judges, was Gabe. He handed Calvin an entry form then turned around. His eyes fell on Liz immediately and his face lit up as if he’d just been awarded first prize himself.

  “Liz!” He darted around Bella Mattuchi and Helen and Chloe Knowland, excusing himself as he made a beeline for her.

  Helen didn’t take her eyes off Gabe, even when he put his hands on Liz’s shoulders and kissed her cheek.

  “Gosh, you look fantastic,” he gushed. “More beautiful than ever.”

  “Gabe, you just saw me last weekend.”

  “Really? I thought it was last year,” he joked. He gla
nced at Louisa and the sunflowers she was carrying. “Hi, Louisa. How are you? Those look...really terrific, actually.”

  “Merci,” she replied, shooting Liz a sly look.

  “I just entered my mom’s flowers, but yours are bigger and brighter—frankly, they look like winners.” He smiled sheepishly. “Don’t tell my mother I said that.”

  “I won’t,” Liz replied as they moved forward in line. “Where is your mother, anyway?”

  “She went back to the car. She forgot her lipstick or something,” Gabe answered. Then he leaned close to Liz’s ear. “She’s visiting Sam,” he whispered.

  “Oh, boy,” Liz moaned. “Do you think that’s wise?”

  Gabe shrugged. “What could I do? I wasn’t going to stop her. She can be very stubborn when she wants to be.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Finally, it was Liz’s turn to fill out her entry form and hand over their flowers. Louisa waited patiently as Liz answered the judges’ questions, identified the flowers and tied tags to each stem.

  The judges counted the petals, measured the width and height of the stalks and made notes immediately. It all seemed so perfunctory and cold.

  Liz studied her blossoms. All summer, they’d vivified their house and tasting room, bringing her joy as she moved from room to room and saw their happy faces smiling out from vases and pitchers.

  Liz, Gabe and Louisa walked away silently as they realized all their hard work and tender nurturing had just been measured, weighed and judged. It was over. The winners wouldn’t be announced until sundown, but Liz felt as if a killing frost had just ended her summer.

  As if he understood every thought in her head, Gabe reached down and took her hand. He squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

  Louisa didn’t miss the gesture. “I’m going back to the booth to help Sam. I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll be there in a sec,” Liz replied as Louisa sprinted down the street.

  Gabe lifted Liz’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I hope you win,” he said. “I think your sunflowers meant more to you than you’d imagined they would.”