Something Old

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Something Old Page 14

by Megan Ryder


  Chapter Fourteen

  Ethan woke slowly, eyes gritty from a second night without sleep. He showered quickly and dressed, not sure what was on the itinerary but knew he had to get away from the house before Caroline put him to work doing some gifty things for the wedding. The house was empty, the coffeepot almost drained. The radio was on, a reporter droning on about the tropical storm that had shifted course and was headed straight for them. As if he hadn’t noticed the pressure change in his head. The pounding in his temples indicated the storm’s approach. Hopefully it wouldn’t cause too much damage for the wedding.

  He poured the half cup that remained and walked onto the patio, looking for direction on prepping the house for the bad weather.

  The surf was up, white caps pounding the beach. The storm wasn’t too far away, would be there by nightfall. The beach was deserted, residents having been warned to go into the heightened surf at their own risk. Riptides and currents pulled people out to sea and even the strong swimmers couldn’t fight it. Delaney had been caught in one of those currents years ago, and he had been helpless to save her. One of the locals, Scott from the Rusty Anchor, had known exactly what to do and saved her, earning him a spot in their little group for a time. But the gulf between locals and fall folk had been too great, and he had drifted away after that one summer.

  Ethan inhaled the salt air.

  Matthew sat on the wall facing the rolling ocean waves, turmoil and indecision on his face.

  “What are you thinking so hard about?”

  Matthew jumped and turned. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you. Storm is coming.”

  Ethan grinned. “I can see that. Do we need to board the windows?”

  “Nah, it’s not a hurricane. But I need someone to go to Galveston. The engraving wasn’t done when Caroline wanted me here, and Caroline insisted on this engraver at this small jeweler in Galveston. The ferry will only be making one more run then shutting down.”

  Ethan nodded in understanding. “If you go, you can’t come back.”

  “Probably not. And Caroline insists she needs me here, afraid I’ll go to the office and not be able to get back. As if I would miss my own wedding.” The last words were bitter and biting, his irritation plain.

  “You have been spending a lot of time working on your case.” Ethan’s words were mild and nonjudgmental.

  “Hey, she wanted a two-week honeymoon. It’s not my fault we’re at a critical juncture with the deal.”

  Ethan walked over to the wall and hopped on it. “She just wants you as involved and excited as she is.”

  Matthew snorted. “What are you, a girl? Weddings are for the bride. The groom just shows up and does what he’s told. Besides, she has this whole thing running like clockwork.” He clapped Ethan on the back. “In the meantime, best man, I nominate you for this job, since you’re going there anyway. Or at least I assume you want to go.”

  Matthew’s sly tone wasn’t lost on Ethan. “What makes you think I had hoped to head over today? And what if I get stuck?”

  “It won’t matter if you get stuck. But if I do, well, there will be hell to pay. You can fly there and back in the time it takes the ferry to get over there. And, if you can’t get back, that’s okay. Besides, I figured you were worried about your vines and wanted to check on them.”

  Ethan grimaced and considered the time line. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to be sure the vines are protected in case the storm goes bad. I was hoping to run up to the vineyard. If I don’t make it back, it won’t mess anything up, right?”

  Matthew shook his head. “I don’t even know what’s planned for tonight. Don’t worry about it. Just be safe. Caroline knows about this.”

  A short while later, Ethan headed for the truck. Delaney sat in the passenger seat, looking anywhere but at him.

  “I’m not headed into town. Find someone else to drive you.” Irrational anger at her sneaking out made his voice sharper than intended.

  “I’m headed to Galveston. Caroline told me to hitch a ride with you.” She turned in her seat and faced him. “It’s no big deal. I won’t get in your way.”

  He frowned, needing space from her but another part of him wanted this special time together.

  He turned the key in the ignition. “Fine. Let’s get this over with, okay?”

  She turned back to face forward, arms crossed. “You asked me to come with you just yesterday. I thought you’d be happy about this.”

  “If I thought you were doing it on your own, I would be fine. But you had to wait for someone to force you.”

  “I could have refused,” she said, her voice soft.

  He snorted. “No one refuses Caroline. Why do you think I’m flying over?”

  “Then let’s get this over with, right?”

  Delaney focused her gaze out the copilot’s window, the sky gray and cloudy around them. The weathermen weren’t kidding about the tropical storm headed their way. The plane jerked in the turbulence and she clutched the armrests, as if that would save her. She glanced at the choppy waves of the sea below, cold, dark, and angry, and shuddered. She hated the ferry, but right now, she wasn’t too sure she was in a safer place in the sky.

  “It’s going to be fine, Delaney. We’ll land before you know and head back to the island before the storm hits.” Ethan barely spared her a glance, his concentration focused on flying the plane. But his voice was smooth and calm, soothing, like she was a wild animal or excited child. “Trust me?”

  She frowned. “It’s not you I don’t trust. The damn storm, on the other hand, well, Mother Nature can be a real bitch.”

  He grinned. “This is nothing, barely a little rough patch.”

  She arched her brow at him. “Then why couldn’t the ferry run?”

  The plane lurched again, and she grabbed the armrests again, hands already beginning to ache from the tension.

  This time he looked over, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “The ferry was only making one more run today. You’d be stranded. With the plane, we might have a shot of getting back. Besides, would you have taken it?”

  She shrugged. “Someone could have taken it.”

  “We’re the best man and the maid of honor. It’s our job to handle the rings, and anything else the bride and groom want. Isn’t that right?”

  “How the hell should I know? It’s not like there’s a handbook.”

  “I thought you ladies were all issued that the day you became a part of the bridal party, like one of those spa day rites of passage.”

  “Did you get one in your welcome kit?”

  He laughed, the sound wafting over her, warming her, and the tension eased slightly. “There was a welcome kit?” He pointed out the pilot window. “See? Galveston airport. We’re almost there.”

  She gulped, already feeling tension from the mainland seeping into her body. Reality was too close. Being on the island, she could live snug in her cocoon with Ethan, live in the delusion that maybe, just maybe, they could make it this time. She was fooling herself and stringing Ethan along for the ride. They couldn’t have more than this week. With her past and family name and his family business and name, it could never work. She would only drag him down, just like before. Back then, she could walk away, she had so much going on in her life she could suppress the pain, work through it and not dwell.

  Now, she was stronger, more independent, which would make losing him again so much more painful and impossible.

  Ethan escorted her to his truck, not even letting her use her own. He drove them to Galveston, where they split for their errands. He slipped his hand into his pocket to get the jeweler’s address and a hard stone rubbed against his hand. He pulled it out and saw the sea glass he had picked up on his run two days before. After the scavenger hunt, he had snuck it back from the pile and forgot about it. Absently, he rubbed his thumb across the smooth surface.

  He glanced at the jeweler’s sign, an idea blossoming. He walked in the small store and stood by a display case, while a youn
g couple, very young, oohed and aaahed over every ring in the case. The sales woman was very accommodating, explaining every facet of every ring to the couple. To Ethan’s eyes, the woman, a very attractive brunette, was more concerned about the ring, the size, the carets than she was about her fiancé. While the fiancé was clearly willing to indulge everything and anything she wanted. How could he afford the price his fiancée was aiming for? The man wore an ill-fitted charcoal suit, off the rack probably, while nothing the woman wore was off any rack from a store this man shopped in. The Ralph Lauren dress wasn’t from Galveston and neither was the jewelry she wore or the Coach bag she carried.

  Ethan leaned against the display case, subtly indicating his impatience at being kept waiting. In Houston, wearing his tailored suits and gold Rolex, he would never have been kept waiting. Dusty cargo pants and a white T-shirt screamed I can’t afford this place, much louder than the affianced couple. He gave it four years before the woman bailed on the marriage, not getting what she needed from him, looking elsewhere for money, status, things, while he worked his fingers to the bones to keep her happy. Maybe four years was too long.

  The saleswoman looked up while the couple discussed the latest choice and noticed him, as if for the first time. She straightened slightly and tossed her hair, the female mating call. It was so predictable he was bored with it all. He arched his eyebrow and she walked over.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Her voice was breathy with a hint of flirtatiousness. She laid a hand on his arm. “Can I help you with anything?”

  He handed her the receipt. “I need to pick up some wedding rings.”

  Her back stiffened and she became all business. He didn’t bother to correct her misunderstanding. She went in the back, leaving the three of them alone. He wandered over to the display case with the couple and peered over their shoulders.

  Princess cut. Of course. Nothing this woman did was original.

  He glanced in the case. None of them matched the Asscher cut engagement ring he’d bought for Delaney, the one he still had in the drawer in his bedroom. The modified emerald cut, into a square, fit Delaney at the time. Elegant, feminine, vintage, classic. If he were to get one for her now, would he chose the same one?

  The woman put the ring on her finger and held it out. Her fiancé audibly gulped at the price tag.

  “You can’t put a price on love, darling,” she cooed. “This is the one.”

  Ethan snorted softly, but loud enough for them to hear. The woman whirled around and glared at him.

  “You can put a price on love. You just did. Ten thousand dollars. A bargain.” He leaned close to the guy’s ear. “Get a pre-nup, dude. Trust me.”

  The saleswoman came out of the back, sensing a shift in the tension. She brought him the rings and shook them out on a velvet-lined tray. He checked them both over and nodded. Then he pulled out the piece of sea glass. “Do you have someone on site that does settings for necklaces?”

  “But of course, sir.” She looked at the piece of glass in his hand and frowned. “I’ll have him come right out.”

  An older gentlemen with magnifying glasses came out of the back room.

  Ethan handed him the glass. “I’d like this made into a necklace, just some wire wrapped around it securely. Silver, I think. Can you do it?”

  The man peered at the glass then at Ethan. “This isn’t very expensive. You can get this done cheaper at one of the craft places down the block.”

  “I’m not worried about cheap. I want it to be special.”

  “But it’s just glass.” The woman burst out from next to him. “It’s not even a jewel.”

  He smiled. “It has sentimental value.”

  The older man smiled, an understanding glint in his eyes. “I can do it. When do you want it by?”

  Ethan looked outside at the darkening sky. “Would tomorrow be too soon?”

  “No, it’ll be done.”

  Ethan filled out the slip and paid for the necklace then sauntered out of the shop. Step one done. Now to find Delaney and convince her to go to the vineyard with him. He glanced down the street. She had said something about going to a gift shop for candles or something.

  He spied the candle shop and headed down the street. Inside, Delaney was talking with the saleswoman, and the staff was stacking trays of candles in front of her. He brought the car to the back of the store and they carried the trays to the car and locked them in the trunk. He leaned on the car roof and Delaney caught his eyes, resting a hand on the roof, not getting in the car.

  “I need to check the vines before we head back. You can stay here and do some shopping or come with me.” He held his breath. The old Delaney would have jumped at the chance to shop, even in Galveston. But this new woman was different. Just how different was she?

  Her tentative smile spread. “You want me to see your place? I’d love to.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Delaney relaxed against the seat as Ethan drove the truck down Route 45 and turned off on a dirt road with the sign Hermitage Vines. The dirt kicked up behind the truck, sending a cloud billowing behind them. Ethan glanced in his rearview mirror but kept driving. The sky was darkening and the wind picking up making it seem more like evening than afternoon. Delaney glanced at her watch. The rain would tamp down the dust. The vines needed rain, but they didn’t need wind lashing them, especially now, when they were heavy with ripening grapes. He looked down the rows as he drove by, but no one was working in the fields. He pulled up to the parking lot and parked in front of the barn that doubled as a showroom and wine tasting event location.

  Delaney got out and slammed the truck door. “Ethan, this place is wonderful! Is that your house?”

  He looked up at the big white farmhouse and nodded. “It came with the place. It was built in the early nineteen hundreds. You can head up there. Lola is the housekeeper and matron around here. She’ll get you settled.”

  Before he had even finished, she was shaking her head. “You invited me to see your place. I’m not going to sit at the house and wait patiently for you. I could have done that in Galveston. I want the grand tour.”

  “It’s not so grand, but follow me.” He led the way into the barn, sliding open the big door in the front. “I kept this door to really open up the place for natural light. It’s great when we do tastings and there are a lot of people in and out.”

  She walked into the barn and looked up. “It’s fantastic! Is that where you make the wine?” She gestured to the large steel vaults in the back, blocked by wood railings.

  He nodded. “Customers like to feel a part of the process, so we make some of our wine in here. I have a couple of other barns that have equipment also.”

  She walked over to a small bar built to the side of the space. “This is a great space. Do you offer events like weddings, parties, formal tastings?”

  He shook his head. “I’m still getting started here. Someday I’d like to add that, but I have no time right now. I have enough to do with making the wine and getting sales going.”

  “You don’t have a sales staff?” She cocked her head at him.

  “We’re a two-person operation, basically. Me and my farm manager, Tom. Although, we hire seasonal help as needed.” As if conjured from his words, Tom came out from the back room, slapping gloves on his jeans.

  “I knew you couldn’t stay away. We’ve got everything under control, Ethan.” The older man said, his smile indicating he wasn’t offended Ethan checked in.

  Ethan clapped him on the back. “We were in Galveston and I wanted to show Delaney the place. Tom, meet Delaney Winters.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Winters.” Tom held out his hand then pulled it back. “Sorry, my hands are a bit dirty.”

  “Nonsense. Call me Delaney.” She shook his hand and didn’t even wipe them off after.

  Tom grinned then turned to Ethan. “The vines are all set. We spent the last few days checking the ties. I brought in a couple of extra guys for the week, while everyone else
worked on harvesting what they could. Didn’t think you’d mind. They’re moving the barrels now, making sure everything is up in case we get flooding.”

  “Aren’t you well inland for flooding?” Delaney asked.

  “We’re only a couple of miles in and there are rivers all through the land for irrigation from the bay, so we should be safe, but I’m more worried about water ponding and leaking. We do have an inlet running through the property, but everything should be high enough to be safe. How’s the generator?”

  “Fueled up and ready. Tested it myself this morning. So, you see? We have everything under control.”

  “I had no doubt. Thanks.”

  “I’m headed back to the barns to check on the barrels. Nice to meet you, Ms. Winters.” He nodded and wandered off.

  “Delaney. It was my pleasure.” She walked around the open space. “This is a great space. I know plenty of people who would pay outrageous sums to have events in a place like this. You should really consider it. Do you at least do formal tastings and weekly events to bring in customers?”

  “Absolutely. We’re open every weekend from one to four for sales, but I just can’t do both. I sometimes hire people in the fall to work the tasting room. We work it out.”

  She shook her head. “Ethan, it’s not enough to make the wine. You need to sell it. You should really hire someone full-time, someone who knows how to put events together, to run this side of your operation.”

  “I know. I have to get around to it. You don’t happen to know anyone like that? Who wouldn’t mind living way out here on a farm?” He spoke with hope she could be that person.

  “I’m sure you could advertise in wine magazines or online. Your business could really take off.”

  He grimaced. “I know you’re right. I’m going to need someone for that angle. Tom is better with the plants and the wine. But if I move back to Houston, I can’t pick up the slack in the tasting room. At best, I’d be out here weekends only, not enough to really build that side.”

 

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