by Sara Orwig
“I told her I’d watch Jack for a while and give her a little break. He’s adorable, Eli. And he has a new word—he can say light now.”
“Anna’s an angel for taking in her nephew to raise. And you’re an angel for giving them a home and security.”
“You would have done the same thing. Imagine! Her sister dying and leaving a baby all alone. And now the press is hounding Anna, and she’s getting threatening phone calls—Anna just needed shelter from the storm.” Caroline looked at the little boy in her arms. “Anna’s a strong woman—she’ll get along and Jack is just precious. They can stay forever as far as I’m concerned.”
“You’ll get so attached to Jack, he’ll be like one of your own. Watch out you don’t get a broken heart. Someday Anna will leave.”
“I know, but hopefully, she’ll let us all continue to be part of their lives.” Caroline eyed Eli and her eyebrows arched. “You look like you fell out of the car, Eli. I hate to say I told you so, but I knew going to the funeral reception would be rough.”
“I’m all right, Mom,” he said. “Seeing all of them just made me all the more proud of you and Dad and our family. We’ve done all right.”
“That we have, thanks in large part to you.”
He shook his head. “Dad taught us well,” Eli said, referring to Lucas Shepherd, his stepfather. “We’re all a competent team.”
She smiled up at him. “You so rarely take a day off, then to spend it at Spencer’s funeral…” Her voice faded away and she shook her head. “I don’t want to see the house again.”
“I like ours better,” he said, walking away from her. “It’s cozier. Mom, I still want you to give some thought to letting our attorney see if Ashton Estate is yours now. Spencer wasn’t legally married to you, because he never divorced his first wife in Nebraska, so to my way of thinking, he couldn’t inherit from Granddad.”
“We’ve been over that, Eli. I don’t want the bitter fight we’d have on our hands if we pursued it. It would only lead to unhappiness. You’ve got a satisfying life. You don’t need that battle.”
“Sorry to worry you. I just want you to think about it and talk to Dad about it.”
“Lucas feels the same as I do, but I’ll think about it a little more. You take care of yourself, Eli,” she said, an uncustomary caution before she turned and disappeared into the family room while he wondered why she had said that to him. He could hear her talking to Jack and Jack babbling in return. Eli shook his head. That baby would have all their hearts before long.
Forgetting about Jack, Eli took the stairs two at a time to his suite, striding through the wide hall with a glance at the family photos adorning the walls, thankful that his mother had The Vines. At the back of the house he had his own suite, including a living room and kitchenette. He walked through the living room with its blue and green decor. The large oil painting over his mantel was an accurate picture of the Louret vineyards in summer.
He tossed his coat on a chair in his bedroom, where the colors were an extension of those in his living room. He got out a fresh shirt and trousers, pulling on a pale-gray sport shirt and gray cotton slacks. He combed his hair and tried to keep from thinking about Lara, hoping to immerse himself in work.
The cab company called him back a few moments later. They had found the driver who had picked up Lara. The man would return to the office in an hour. Eli thanked the dispatcher and replaced the receiver.
Stepping outside, he left for the office. Beneath peaked roofs, the two-story winery had offices on the upper floor, the tasting room on the ground floor. The warm, sunny June day should have lifted his spirits, but he knew he was in a dark mood and that he needed to snap out of it.
Eli glanced at the vineyards and saw his half brother Grant looking at the vines and talking to Henry Lydell, Louret’s new foreman who had replaced Russ Gannon. Russ had fallen in love and married Grant’s niece Abigail from Nebraska a few months ago. Eli liked Grant and experienced a connection with the Nebraska farmer. They both were men of the earth, Grant the farmer and Eli the winemaker. It was a bond that was forged almost the first day Grant was at their house.
Eli thought about the shock of Grant’s revelation that Spencer had had a wife in Nebraska he had never divorced and Grant and his sister were children of that marriage. Eli wondered who had received the greatest shock—Grant at forty-three to discover his father was still alive and had walked out on them, or all the other Ashtons to learn of another marriage of Spencer’s. When he had been turned away by Lilah and Spencer, Caroline had invited Grant to stay at Louret.
The news had been a bomb when the press got hold of it. The tabloids had carried bold, lurid headlines, especially after it was revealed that Spencer had never divorced his first wife.
Eli entered the winery. For the next two hours he worked, checking on the barrels, talking to Cole, walking blocks of the vineyards to look at the grapes and checking on the thinning of the canopy of green leaves so that the right amount of sunlight reached the clusters of grapes.
Shortly after three o’clock, Eli stopped work and left. Telling himself he was every kind of a fool, he got in his car and sped back to the cab company in Napa. It took only a few minutes to talk to the driver who had picked up Lara. He had deposited her at the Regency and the last he had seen of her, she had started into the hotel. Thanking the driver, Eli pulled out his wallet and gave the man payment for his information. At the Regency Eli ran into a dead end with no trace of her.
Eli drove home in a darker mood than before. She had gone to a hotel. Was she an Ashton relative who had flown in for the funeral and had stayed at a hotel in the city? A friend of the family? A call girl? The last he didn’t want to consider, yet she was beautiful enough, kept things impersonal, and no telling who Spencer had known or been involved with.
Eli hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand and swore, annoyed with himself for pursuing the matter. He clamped his jaw closed, and got his mind back on the vineyard.
It was early summer and the vines were doing well. Louret grew Pinot Noir, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Petite Verdot grapes. Their Caroline Chardonnay was gaining great reviews. At this stage of the summer, they had had inflorescence. The new shoots had blossomed and were about to transform into tiny green grapes that would ripen during lazy summer days until the fall harvest.
He could remember Lara sipping the glass of Caroline Chardonnay that he had ordered. He shook his head. “Get out of my thoughts,“ he said quietly.
Back at his office, Eli found a note lying on the desk. He picked it up to see that he’d had four calls: three from businessmen he knew and they involved the winery or the vineyard. The fourth was from a stranger: Stephen Cassidy, Attorney at Law.
Eli dialed the number and got voice mail. When he called the cell number, a man answered, identifying himself as Stephen Cassidy.
“Mr. Cassidy, I’m Eli Ashton and I’m returning your call,” Eli said.
He listened to the deep voice. “Mr. Ashton, I was Spencer Ashton’s attorney. He had his affairs in order, and we can get right to the reading of Spencer’s will. I have to notify everyone mentioned in the will, and when I talked with your mother she said I should call you.”
“That’s fine,” Eli replied. “I’ll represent my family.”
“Excellent. I’ve set a date for the reading next Monday morning, the thirteenth of June. For the family’s benefit, we’ve made arrangements to meet at the Ashton Estate at ten o’clock. Will you be able to attend?”
“I’ll be there,” Eli promised and listened as the attorney told him goodbye. Eli replaced the receiver, wondering again if Spencer had made amends in his will.
Eli went to the vineyards to do some pruning and check for powdery or downy mildew. He snapped off suckers and inspected the tiny clusters of grapes that were forming. Even as he worked with the vines, his mind wandered back to Lara.
The rest of the week he failed to get her out of his mind. He made no effort to fin
d her, but his family noticed his brooding. All of them chalked it up to tension over the reading of Spencer’s will.
Monday finally came, and Eli dressed in a navy suit with a red tie. Driving up to the Ashton Estate for the second time in his life, he tried to keep out memories of meeting Lara at the funeral reception.
He rang the chimes, and a maid swung open the door to usher him through a large elegant foyer. They climbed four steps to a secondary foyer, and she motioned to an open door on the left.
“In the library, sir,” she said politely, and was gone.
He entered the library, where people had already gathered. Folding chairs had been set up facing a massive desk. Eli noticed the sharp looks he received from the other Ashtons, none of whom came forward to greet him. He took a seat at the end of the row, leaving half a row of empty seats between him and Lilah Ashton.
Eli glanced around the library while bitterness welled up in him. The library was Spencer’s domain. On the desk in a gold frame was a picture, turned slightly, and Eli could see the Ashton family, including Spencer. An oil portrait of Spencer hung on one wall. Bookshelves lined other walls, and even though it was a different library, the room brought back sharp memories of Eli’s childhood and that stormy night when he had overheard Spencer tell Caroline he was leaving her and the children.
The tall attorney with his salt-and-pepper hair looked natty in a gray suit. He walked up to Eli and extended his hand. “I’m Stephen Cassidy,” he announced.
“Eli Ashton,” Eli said, standing and shaking the man’s hand.
“Will others from your family be here?”
“No, I’m representing them.”
“Fine.” Stephen Cassidy turned as another man joined them. “Mr. Ashton, this is my assistant, Ty Koenig.”
Eli shook hands with a stocky, black-haired man who smiled and gazed at him through thick glasses.
“We’re all here and we’ll start in just a few,” Ty Koenig said. “Just have a seat.”
“Thanks,” Eli said, and sat as the two men walked away. Harsh looks were directed Eli’s way, and he clamped his jaw closed while his anger mounted. Once again, viewing the house, the knowledge that Spencer had stolen all of this from his mother was a knife in Eli’s heart. Eli hated being here as much as he hated the other Ashtons, but the attorney had called him, so he and his family were in Spencer’s will. He remembered the argument he’d had with Cole when he told him about the call the next morning. Cole had stopped in Eli’s office to give him a note from Mrs. McKillup, their bookkeeper.
Cole’s green eyes had blazed with anger and he’d lowered the clipboard he held in his hands. Trotting after Cole was his dog, Tillie, a greyhound-Dalmatian mix. At the sight of Eli, Tillie wagged her tail and flopped down on the floor beside Cole.
“You’re crazy to go,” Cole snapped. “The attorney will have to give us a copy of the will whether or not we attend. It isn’t like a contest where you have to be present to win.”
“I’m going. I can represent the family, since no one else wants to set foot on the place.”
“Damn straight, no one wants to,” Cole said. “They don’t want us there, either. I don’t want to look at the Ashton Estate and think about what Spencer did to Mom. You’ll regret going.”
“Maybe I will, but I still intend to be there. Trace and Walker Ashton can’t scare me away.”
“They don’t scare me. I just think I might take a swing at them. And if I might, you’re going to.”
“I’ll control my temper.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I will. But I might not this morning if you keep it up,” Eli grumbled, and Cole grinned, turning to hurry away. After he had widened the distance between them, at the door of Eli’s office, he looked over his shoulder. “You can take Tillie for protection.”
“Dixie’s cat, Hulk, maybe, but never your wimp of a dog,” Eli said, referring to Cole’s wife’s unusually brave pet. Cole’s grin widened.
Now he was here at Ashton Estate and, so far, controlling himself just fine, but he’d be glad when this morning was over and done.
Seated in a cluster along the row of chairs were the other Ashtons. Eli glanced at Lilah Ashton and her children. Eli had occasionally seen Lilah Ashton. He had to admit that she was an attractive woman, one whose looks, he was certain, had been enhanced by Spencer’s money. Black became her. Her chic, chin-length red hair was set off by her black dress. Next to her, in a flawless brown suit, sat Eli’s cousin—Spencer’s tall, black-haired nephew, Walker Ashton—who had been raised like Spencer’s own son and now was the executive vice president of Ashton-Lattimer Corporation. The chair to Lilah Ashton’s left was empty, but Trace Ashton stood a few feet away talking to his younger sister, Paige Ashton. Dressed in a gray suit, Trace was tall and lean and looked physically fit. His sister was shorter. Eli knew Paige Ashton was the event planner for the Ashton Estate. Her smiling picture had been on brochures and in wine magazines.
Beside Walker Ashton was his sister, Charlotte, Spencer’s niece. Like her brother, her Native American heritage showed in her straight black hair. Eli wondered about Charlotte and Walker. Word was, that after all these years since Spencer had taken them in to raise after his brother’s death, he had told them that their mother had also died. Now, according to rumors, Spencer’s duplicity had been revealed when Charlotte had heard that their mother was alive. If that turned out to be the truth, Eli thought, it would be just one more evil perpetrated by Spencer. One more scandal to rock the family and feed the tabloids.
Taking a seat to the right of Charlotte was Megan Ashton, now married. Beside her was her new husband, Simon Pearce.
While Eli waited, he watched Stephen Cassidy take the empty seat beside Lilah Ashton, talking to her and patting her shoulder. For another five minutes the attorney conversed with her, this time putting his arm around her shoulders. Eli noticed the lawyer seemed unduly interested in her. Was more scandal going to rock the Ashtons? Eli wondered idly. Or was the attorney simply being attentive to the grieving widow?
Finally clearing his throat, Cassidy began the reading. He talked briefly about the gathering for the reading of Spencer’s will and then he began: “I, Spencer Winston Ashton, being of sound mind…”
Eli listened, looking at the people nearby. He had cousins and half brothers and half sisters present, yet they didn’t speak and they were almost total strangers. The world of wine was the only common ground that brought them into contact occasionally, but even there they gave each other a wide berth.
Jerking his attention back to the will, Eli listened attentively as Stephen Cassidy read: “I hereby bequeath my shares of Ashton-Lattimer stock to Walker Ashton.”
Hot anger exploded in Eli, and he clenched his fists while he fought to keep his expression impassive and to sit still. Spencer left Walker, a nephew, his shares of Ashton-Lattimer Corporation, Eli’s grandfather’s company. Spencer was a bastard. Eli wondered why he had expected anything decent from Spencer. With an effort, Eli pulled his concentration back to Stephen Cassidy as he continued to read:
“To Charlotte Ashton, I bequeath the sum of twenty thousand dollars.”
Eli glanced at her. She stared straight ahead and not a flicker of emotion showed in her expression, but she had to be disappointed or angry or hurt. Twenty thousand from Spencer was a paltry sum when all of his wealth and vast estate were taken into consideration. Compared to the stock shares that her brother received, the money was nothing.
Eli suspected that Spencer hadn’t righted any wrongs he had done in the past, and Eli knew that would include his own family. Yet Cassidy had called him to hear the will, so there had to be some mention of Caroline and her family.
“To my beloved wife, Lilah Ashton and our three children, Trace, Paige and Megan Ashton, I leave my property which includes the Ashton Estate house and vineyards, the winery, all monies in my accounts, any savings and stocks aside from Ashton-Lattimer Corporation shares of stock. This property and
holdings are to be divided equally in order that my family will share—”
Eli listened to the words, each bequest another punch to his gut. Caroline and her family had been cut out of the will just as Spencer had cut his family out of his life. Grant and little Jack hadn’t been acknowledged, either. Nor had Spencer’s two Nebraska grandchildren, Ford and Abigail, who had been taken in to be raised by Grant Ashton. Eli clenched his jaw, resolving to push his family to contest the will and to try to get back the Ashton holdings for his mother. Spencer hadn’t deserved all that he’d ruthlessly taken. It would mean another Ashton scandal but one that Eli welcomed.
“To Caroline Ashton and each of her children—Eli Ashton, Cole Ashton, Mercedes Ashton and Jillian Ashton, I hereby bequeath the sum of one dollar each.”
Eli’s ears buzzed and his pulse drummed with fury. Cole had warned him that he was foolish to even go to the reading of the will, yet Caroline agreed with Eli that someone should represent the family. Cole had been right.
Hot and angry, Eli didn’t hear the rest of the will. The walls of the room seemed to close in. He couldn’t wait to get out and leave the estate and the Ashtons that Spencer had claimed as his family.
Finally Stephen Cassidy was finished and immediately back at Lilah Ashton’s side. Eli started toward the door and almost collided with Walker Ashton.
“Did you actually expect him to bequeath anything to you?” Walker asked, blocking Eli’s way. The animosity flowing between them was tangible. Eli fought to control his temper and his fists.
“Now you own the shares of my grandfather’s business,” Eli said bitterly, jamming his fists into his trouser pockets.
“They were my uncle’s shares of stock,” Walker snapped back, his brown eyes flashing with anger. “And he’s left the shares to me. He wanted me to have them. If I recall the circumstances, your grandfather willed the Ashton-Lattimer shares to Spencer.”
“He trusted Spencer and didn’t realize what a deceitful snake the man was.”