Love Unforgettable: Love in San Soloman - Book Three

by Wells, Denise

  I look up at him.

  “I still love you,” he says. “I never stopped.”

  And with that he drives away. I watch his tail lights reach the end of the drive, pause for the gate to open, then head west, toward a hotel. Only then do I turn to go into the house and greet my seven still howling Siberian Huskies.

  Chapter 3

  Cole

  Driving a Ford F-350 King Ranch truck from just outside of Amarillo, Texas to the Central Coast of California may not sound like fun for some. Especially not when you’re towing two Appaloosa, one American Quarter, and two Thoroughbred horses. But me, I’ve got fourteen different XM Country Channels programmed in my radio, a cooler full of Coke, and a Padron ‘64 Anniversario cigar in my mouth. Hell, I’m happier than a dead pig in sunshine.

  I’m moving to the Golden State to run Coastal Oak Ridge Ranch for my grandparents. It’s small in comparison to my parents’ ranch in Texas, but I’ll be running things my way. Plus, I’m the only one out of my four siblings and me who don’t have family already situated or on the way. The five-year difference between my next oldest brother and I gave them all head starts with the family situation. I’m just not there yet.

  I suppose I came close to being serious about a girl before I left, but she’s not the one. I know that for certain, just not sure that she does too. Even though I’d never felt the lightning bolt with her, I gave it a shot. I’d already turned thirty-three, I figured it was time. But, it came down to not seeing a future with her. Knowing in my gut that she is not the mother of my future children.

  At first everything was fine. But then her sister got engaged and they both went a little cuckoo over it. All that mattered was the wedding. Groom didn’t matter. The relationship definitely didn’t matter. It was all about appearances and the wedding. I get the whole Bridezilla thing, I’ve got sisters, but this went beyond. Way beyond. Had it been me, I’d have ended it right there. But he went through with it.

  I knew I had to break it off after her other sister had a baby. We went to the hospital to see it, I saw her holding the baby, and I got no urge to knock her up. No glimpses into the future and having little baby Coles with her. No twinge of feeling. So, I ended it.

  Pappy always said when it happens, it’s fast like a surge of electricity running through your body. You know without a shadow of a doubt that’s your mate. And he’s not the only one. My dad proposed to my momma on their second date. She made him wait until the fourth date before she said yes, but that’s just cause she’s feisty like that.

  And still, after forty-two years of marriage, my parents continue to enjoy and appreciate one another every day; she laughs at his jokes and he kisses her like he means it. So, I persevere, even though I’m near thirty-five years old, I’m waiting for that feeling to happen. ‘Course, I’m not sure how to identify a feeling that I’ve never felt before, but they all swear it won’t matter. I’ll just know. I suppose it comes down to having faith the universe is working in all the right ways.

  My phone rings through the Bluetooth in my car system.

  Speak of the devil.

  It’s my ex. Charlene. The girl that I know for sure isn’t the one.

  “Hey, darlin’, kinda late for you, ain’t it?” I ask. A glance at the dash tells me it’s ten thirty at night in Texas.

  “Cole, I’m so glad I caught you.” She sounds out of breath and like she’s been crying.

  “Everything okay?” I still care about her. Just not in love with her.

  “Well . . . I just . . . I know,” she sighs. “I know we agreed to part ways with you movin’ and all. But, I’m havin’ second thoughts, sweetheart.” Her voice sounds like a cross between Minnie Mouse and Betty Boop, that intensifies when she’s upset. All her sentences end on an up note, like she’s asking a question as it is. But it gets worse when she’s emotional. When we first started dating, it took me a while to realize that was just how she talked, and she wasn’t constantly asking me questions. And I’m sure I confused her when I was always answering things that didn’t need to be answered. But that’s neither here nor there.

  “Charlene, darlin’, we talked about this—”

  “I know,” she interjects. “But I just really feel like we can make this work. I mean, I can come to you, and—”

  “Charlene, you know it’s not just the distance,” I say softly, interrupting her train of thought.

  “But, I love you,” she cries.

  I’m not sure what to say in return. She knows I’m not in love with her. If she makes me keep repeating as much, it’s just going to hurt her. I don’t want to keep hurting her. I choose to stay silent and let her cry it out. Her sobs are mostly quiet on the other end of the line.

  “Darlin’, you deserve to have a man who loves you more than you love him. One who worships the ground that you walk on, dotes on your every word, and thinks all your annoyin’ habits are cute.”

  She makes a sound like a half laugh, half cry.

  “But, darlin’, that man’s not me. I’m sorry. If I could make it me, I would.”

  She takes a deep shuddering breath and lets it out slowly. “I don’t care if I love you more. Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be anyway. You know, a woman takin’ care of her man and all.”

  “Charlene, darlin’, I refuse to believe you would be happy with that.”

  She sighs heavily. “I know. I just . . . I had to try one last time.”

  “You gonna be okay?” I hate to cut the conversation short.

  Actually, that’s a lie, I don’t hate to cut it short. I want to stop it now before she gets into it too much further. Nothing about our relationship status is going to change by continuing to discuss it. And I definitely don’t want to be rehashing that which is unnecessary while I’m driving late at night hauling three tons of livestock.

  “I think so,” she whispers.

  “Good girl.”

  “Good luck, Cole,” she says.

  “Thanks, darlin’.”

  We disconnect, and I turn off the radio to drive in silence for a while. My mind suddenly full of thoughts I don’t wish to dwell upon; like how I’ve been waiting a long time for a woman to make my own for the long haul. A small part of me wonders if settling isn’t a smarter choice to make. I wasn’t lying when I told Charlene I wish the guy for her was me. I do. Then I’d be rooted, starting a family, staying in Texas, and my future would be set. Even if settling does make me no better than a doormat in the middle of the sidewalk on a hot summer day.

  But instead, I’m moving 1,600 miles away, to another state, with Babs as my sole companion and no lightning bolts in the forecast.

  Chapter 4

  Lexie

  After a sleepless night spent thinking about Trevor, I take one of my huskies, Sasha, with me and hike the grounds checking my grapevines for the bulk of the morning. I wish I could say that it’s not hard to be a woman in the wine industry, an industry that is primarily male dominated, but I can’t. And even though the number of woman wine makers in the state is growing all the time, it still doesn’t top 12% of the industry as a whole.

  When you pair that with the fact that I am short and petite, usually dressed in jeans and sneakers, and wear my hair in pig tails when I am working, I’m often treated like a small child. Even though I am rocking pink hair in those pig tails.

  I won’t deny that I got into this business young, first as a child just goofing around with grapes, and later as an adult taking it seriously. It was due to the generosity of my late mentor and benefactor, Stone Strassburg. For some reason he saw something in me that he wanted to cultivate, and so he did. He took me under his wing, teaching me everything he knew about growing grapes and making wine that I couldn’t learn in school. When he was ready to retire, which was just as I was completing my MS in Viticulture and Oenology, he turned the entire operation over to me.

  My phone buzzes with a new text. I look down and see it’s from Mavis Strassburg, Stone’s widow, the two were my
surrogate grandparents. Mavis and I grew close when I was Stone’s protege. Sadly, he passed a year into his retirement. Mavis has no other family left, and outside of Kat and Remi, neither do I. So, we cling to each other, emotionally and sometimes literally. She was instrumental in helping me piece myself back together after my family died. So, I made sure to do the same for her after Stone passed. I now make it a point to see her at least once a week and try to talk to her every day or so.

  Mavis: Hello Lexie bubala can you hear me hello

  I have to laugh. I finally convinced Mavis to get a smart phone and she likes using the voice to text functionality. But she still doesn’t always understand that it’s not a call. And sometimes I like to mess with her when that happens. So, I text back.

  Me: Good morning, bubbe. I can’t hear you. Can you hear me?

  Mavis: No bubala no my hearing is not what it was oy vey

  I hit the button to call her.

  “Oh, my bubala, is that you? I can hear you now. Danke,” Mavis says. I laugh.

  “Hi bubbe,” I say. “How are you doing today?”

  “Oh bubala, the news today, such dreck. Feh! I tell you.”

  “I know. The world is a sad state of affairs,” I agree.

  It wouldn’t matter what was happening in the world, Mavis would still say the news was horrible and everything was going to shite. She lives to complain.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Oh yes. Es geyt gut. I am well. Danke, bubala. Thank you.”

  “How are Clyde and Stella?” I ask, of her two dogs.

  “Oy, such rascals those two. But my oytzer, no? Such sweethearts. My only beybiz since you give me nothing.”

  I laugh. “Bubbe, I have to shtup to give you beybiz. And that’s not happening right now.”

  Mavis laughs, but it quickly turns to a hacking cough, which concerns me. She won’t let me take her to see a doctor. She hates both them and hospitals, mostly because Stone died in a hospital and she doesn’t think the doctors did enough before that to keep him well. So, if I want to take her anywhere to get checked out, I have to trick her. Maybe she’ll agree to let Brad take a look at her under the guise of something else.

  “My wine maven. Karyere meydl. Career girl,” she says when she catches her breath. “Oy. So busy you are. Always with the work.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” I say. “Guess who’s moving back to town?”

  “Jerry Stiller.”

  “No,” I say with a giggle. Mavis has had a crush on the actor since she was a girl. She’s convinced herself he’s from San Soloman and moving back at any time. “Trevor.”

  “Trevor? Trevor? The putz from college? Who again came back then left with no words? Oh no, bubala. Oy vey. You hurt me. Say it isn’t so. Oy yoy yoy.”

  “I thought you liked him,” I ask as I bend to inspect a vine up close.

  “Feh, bubala. No. Oy, no.”

  Something has been chewing on the grape clusters. I pluck a particularly sparse one from the vine and hold it up to the light. Definite chew marks. But too high on the vine to be a typical rabbit, raccoon, or squirrel issue. And the base of the stalk is undisturbed.

  What the hell?

  I interrupt Mavis’ continued tirade regarding Trevor. “Bubbe, can I call you back? I have a problem with the grapes.”

  “Oh, the grapes, always the grapes with you. Just like my gelibteh. Alev ha-sholem.”

  “May he rest in peace,” I repeat. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, I think there’s something wrong with them. I’ll pick you up at six for dinner. Okay, bubbe?”

  “Yes, yes. Danke, bubala. I see you then.”

  I continue my inspection of the vines, only to realize it’s more than just one, but definitely sporadic. The stems have clearly been chewed on and some clusters have been halved, but in a total haphazard manner.

  I’d say it’s one of the animals on my farm, but the only logical guess out of my horde would be my cow or one of the goats. Except that they are penned so far from this area, it wouldn’t make sense. Plus, now that I pay closer attention to the surrounding area, I see horse shoe tracks in places.

  I don’t have a horse.

  I hear the faint sound of a whinny. I look around. Sasha sniffs the ground under the vines in a maniacal manner that only dogs seem to do. She and I see the horse at almost exactly the same time and Sasha takes off running. I start running after her, because Siberian Huskies and horses don’t always mix well.

  “Sasha! Stop!” I clap my hands to get her attention, but she is determined to make it to the horse. It takes her a while since she’s older than most of my others and not as agile as she used to be. All seven of my rescue dogs have something wrong with them, usually physical, some reason why they weren’t adopted. The local shelter knows that if they can’t place a husky in a timely manner, I will take it. Which is the only reason why I have seven.

  Sasha’s issue was that she was losing large patches of hair due to a food allergy, which made her not very pretty to look at. The previous owners didn’t want to deal with it, so they surrendered her. I figured out the allergy, her hair came back, and she’s been great ever since. She was my first rescue and has been with me the longest, just over eight years now.

  Sasha starts to slow and is winded I’m sure, but clearly still on a mission. She whines and howls, trying to get the horse’s attention.

  The same horse who clearly has busted my trellising and is currently eating my fucking grapes.

  “Hey!” I wave my arms in the direction of the horse, running toward it. The horse turns toward us and shifts uncomfortably, pawing at the ground with its front hooves. Sasha catches up with it and begins running under the belly, doing figure-eight movements around the front and back legs. Howling and barking, whinnying and stomping.

  This can only end badly.

  I catch up with them and try at first to get Sasha to come. But she’s not listening to me. At all. The horse is agitated and spooked, Sasha is pissed and tired.

  “Okay, okay, easy. Let’s just stay calm.” I hold my hands up to the horse, trying to be as non-threatening as possible as I inch my way forward looking for something to grab. There’s no harness or reins and I can’t quite reach the mane. Then it’s like everything happens at once. The horse whinnies. Sasha howls. The horse rears and all I see are hooves, paws, and dust. Sasha clears the underside of the horse, moving to the front just as it comes down. Landing on Sasha. She collapses with a yelp.

  “Sasha!” I pick up a piece of broken trellis and throw it at the horse, yelling and waving my arms. The horse turns and runs away. I kneel and try to inspect Sasha. She’s breathing, but it’s shallow.

  I don’t know what to do.

  Do I move her?

  I can’t carry her all the way back to the house.

  I can’t leave her here alone.

  Think, Lexie. Think.

  Call the vet. Doc Richardson will know what to do.

  Phone, where’s my phone?

  I pull out my phone and call Doc Richardson’s office and explain what happened. The receptionist assures me he’ll be on his way soon.

  Then, I call my vineyard manager, Daniel, and let him know Doc will be here soon and could he bring him out on the ATV. Doc does a lot outside of his office as well as in; obviously for livestock he travels to the farm, so he has a mobile vet clinic that he drives to sites. I pet Sasha and whisper to her what a good dog she is, over and over, petting her head. She licks my hand softly. I really hope that means she’s going to be okay.

  * * *

  After what seems like hours, but I know is closer to forty minutes, I hear the ATV approach. I don’t move, because I don’t want Sasha to move. I told Daniel where in the vineyard I was, and all our rows are numbered and sectioned, so I’m not hard to find. Only instead of Doc Richardson on the ATV trailer, it’s Trevor.

  Fuck. How did I forget about him already?

  He is off the trailer before Daniel even comes to a stop. Sas
ha tries to get up, but I gently hold her down and keep petting her.

  “Lexie, I got here as soon as I could. What happened?”

  I tell Trevor about the horse. He inspects Sasha, speaking softly and petting her the entire time. He’s a great vet. I can tell already. She warms to him, which she doesn’t do often. Like she knows he’s going to fix her. Or she remembers him from before.

  “I don’t think anything is broken, but there is definitely a lot of tenderness and I won’t know about any internal bleeding until we can get her back to the clinic. My concern is her age. Even if we can fix something that might be wrong, I don’t know that she’ll be up for any kind of procedure. We really need to bring her in just to be sure.”

  Trevor gives Sasha a mild sedative, then gets a board under her and straps her in. He and Daniel load her onto the ATV trailer.

  “Do you want to meet me at the office?” Trevor asks me.

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  There’s no room for all of us on the ATV and trailer, so I jog back to my house, grab my keys, and head into town.

  Chapter 5

  Cole

  I pull into the ranch shortly after ten thirty in the morning. I already know from Babs that she’ll be at her bridge club meeting and I have free reign of the ranch. Even though she’s no longer living there, I still think of it as her property. It’ll take me a while to get use to anything different. I walk around a bit to get acclimated with the immediate area, then drive the horses out to the main corral to water them, feed them, and let them roam.

  The air here is different. It smells salty even though I’m fairly sure we are miles from the coast. And the sun feels brighter. But the biggest difference is the mountains. I can see mountains everywhere, like they’re surrounding us. Obviously, miles and miles away, but still close enough to see with the naked eye. And they’re beautiful. I can see why Babs became so infatuated with the area. She fell in love with California, and more specifically San Soloman, when Pappy brought her here on vacation early on in their marriage. She loved it so much that he promised her then that they’d live here someday. I love Texas. Even though it’s flat, seeing hundreds of miles of land at once is a beautiful sight. That said, seeing mountains so close you can almost touch them on the horizon, makes a man feel downright giddy.