Bella's Vineyard

by Sally Quilford

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” Bella had somehow forged a romantic idea of Vance’s great-grandparents riding off into the sunset together to live happily ever after on a reservation. It made her sad to think that the love affair did not survive, after both must have made such a sacrifice to be together. “But she kept his name.” Ever the idealist, Bella wanted to believe that his great-grandmother continued to the man she almost gave up everything for.

  Vance shook his head. “That was my father’s doing. He didn’t even know about his grandfather until he was a young man. He decided that we should be proud of our heritage. It was a brave thing to do, especially in this country. Luckily he had the money to cushion him against disapproval.”

  “He sounds like a remarkable man.”

  “He is. I respect him more than any other man alive.” He held up his head proudly, and Bella fancied she could see his father’s determination in Vance’s profile.

  “Will he be coming to see you? I’d like to meet him.”

  Vance’s expression altered. “No, he isn’t too happy about my choice of career. He wanted me to go into the family business.”

  “Which is?”

  “Construction. My family built quite a lot of Chicago. I was meant to go to college and study architecture. I did for a while. Then I became interested in the law, and joined the United States Marshals Service. The rest, as they say, is history. So was my relationship with my father for a while. He’s mellowed of late, probably because of my engagement to Gloria, but he still expects me to go back to the family business one day.”

  “How did you meet? You and Gloria, I mean.”

  “We grew up together. Her father is my father’s business partner. Since we were ten years old, the families had us set to marry. When she was eighteen she eloped with someone else, but he died a few years later.”

  “That’s nice, that you’ve been friends since you were children.” Bella wanted to ask him how he felt about Gloria’s elopement, but feared it was too personal a question. He spoke of it quite casually, as if it was of no importance to him. “You obviously love her very much.”

  “You mean to forgive her for running off with another man? We weren’t together then, despite what the families hoped. It was only last year when I went home for a visit that we started going steady.”

  Bella could not help notice that he had not responded to her statement about loving Gloria. Or, she thought, maybe it was her own wishful thinking.

  They rode in silence for a while, and then both started speaking at the same time.

  “Is Gloria…?” “How are you settling…?

  “Sorry, you first,” said Bella.

  “No, ladies first.”

  “I just wondered if she would be coming to join you soon.”

  “As a matter of fact, I wrote her just yesterday and suggested it. It’s not as uncivilized here as I thought it might be. I reckon I could build us a nice house somewhere near the town.”

  “Wonderful,” said Bella, feeling it was anything but. “It’s a pity she couldn’t be with you tonight, for Amelia Peterson’s engagement party.”

  “Will you dance with me instead?”

  Bella very nearly made a comment about being a consolation prize but swallowed it back. “Yes, of course. It will save me from being a wallflower.”

  “I don’t think that’ll happen.”

  Andrew was in a contrite mood when Bella collected him from the jail. He looked dirty and unshaven, not quite the gentleman he thought himself to be.

  “I’m sorry for my behaviour last night, Marshal,” he said, holding out his hand to Vance.

  “Forget it,” said Vance. “I just hope I don’t have to offer you the hospitality of the jail in the future, Mister Tennyson. Will you be at the Petersons’ place tonight?”

  Bella hoped Andrew would not want to go. He was so unstable of late, she feared what might happen. “Of course. Mrs Peterson asked me when I met her in town. I couldn’t possibly let my sister go out amongst the wolves of Milton alone. Besides, Mister Griffiths is going to be there, isn’t he? I met him yesterday. He’s a good man, with a lot of ideas for rejuvenating Milton. I’ve got some business I want to discuss with him.” Bella and Vance exchanged concerned glances. She shuddered when Andrew added, “Mister Griffiths is rather taken with you, Bella.”

  Chapter Five

  The Petersons had spared no expense in making their daughter’s engagement a special occasion. When Bella and Andrew arrived in the buggy, they passed by trees filled with fairy lights. In the meadow behind the Peterson’s sprawling one-storey house, there was a marquee, and outside a stage had been built, and a dance floor laid on one of the few flat pieces of ground in that part of the foothills.

  Stirring banjo music flowed through the air, along with the thump of boots on the wooden floor, and a few cries of ‘yeeha’.

  Bella, wearing the white lace gown, had made a special effort with her hair, pinning it loosely at the sides. The rest hung down her back in golden tresses.

  “This is more like it,” said Andrew, admiring the Peterson’s home. “I was beginning to think we’d moved to live among savages.”

  “I’m sure you would get that impression if all your time is spent in the saloon.” The words were out before Bella could stop herself. She had meant not to reprimand Andrew for his behaviour, mainly because she was tired of hearing the querulous tone in her own voice. She was grateful when he ignored her. It seemed that he did intend to be on his best behaviour. She only hoped it would continue.

  “Actually dearest,” said Andrew, pulling the buggy into the corral set aside for visitor’s vehicles, “I wanted to talk to you about something. I know you’re a kind-hearted girl who makes friends easily, but people are talking.”

  “Talking?”

  “First of all about the Marshal. He seems to have made a pet of you, and well, he’s…”

  “Don’t even say it, Andrew.” Bella’s temper began to flare.

  “Now, of course, it doesn’t matter if you’re just friends with someone. I’m not bigoted, you know that dearest, but, well, I wouldn’t want a man like that to marry my sister.”

  “Then you have no need to worry,” said Bella, in strained tones. “Vance is already engaged to someone else.” The words sent tiny arrows shooting through her heart.

  “He is? Well, I’m very happy for him. He is a good man, despite his pedigree, and I know you would never behave in a way that was immoral.”

  Bella waited, sensing Andrew had something else to say. “But that’s not all, dearest. They say you’ve taken on a Chinese man to help on the vineyard. You know the Chinese are very unpopular here. The problem is so serious, they’ve had to bring in a law to get rid of them.”

  “Everyone who’s skin is not whiter than white is unpopular here,” said Bella. “Shen is a good, hard-working man. But it should comfort you to know he’s at least sixty years old and already married, so you’ve no worries on that score.”

  “Now, don’t be facetious, dearest.”

  Bella folded her arms. She was getting shrewish again and hated herself for it. “I suppose May is going to be next on your list.”

  “She’s…”

  “Family.”

  “She’s not my family.”

  “Well, she’s mine. I wouldn’t be eating if not for her.”

  “She’s done little for me.”

  “You mean she hasn’t financed your gambling. If she’d done that, you’d care very little about her personal preferences. The truth is, Andrew, you don’t like May because she’s not a woman you can twist around your little finger.”

  “I’ll ignore that. All I want you to think about is that if you were sensible, you could be married to a powerful man. You have the beauty and the brains.”

  Bella’s eyes widened as realisation took hold. She remembered Andrew saying that he had some business with Griffiths. “Is that what all this is about? Griffiths?”

  “He’s very
taken with you.”

  “The feeling isn’t mutual.”

  “You know people in our position seldom marry for love. That comes later.”

  “I can promise you, Andrew, that I will never love Mister Griffiths now or later.”

  “That’s a pity, because he asked me and I said I’d approach you on his behalf.”

  “In that case, it’s a definite no. I would never marry a man who didn’t have the courage to tell me how he felt himself, instead of using my brother as a medium.”

  “Let us put that aside for now, dearest. You probably just need time to get used to the idea.” Andrew tied the reins to the buggy, but made no move to get down. “Bella, you haven’t told anyone the truth have you?”

  “The truth?”

  “You know. About the vineyard.”

  “No. I don’t know if May knows, but she hasn’t said anything.”

  “Good, because I’d rather people didn’t know. A man has to keep some pride, especially around here.”

  “I told you before we came that it makes no difference to me.”

  “Well it wouldn’t, would it? After all …”

  There was a low cough behind them. Bella turned in her seat to see Vance standing at the side of the buggy. “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” she whispered, wondering how much he had heard. “You have a dreadful habit of sneaking up on people,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. It hurt her to realise that she enjoyed her time in America much more when her brother was absent.

  “It must be my pedigree,” he said, glancing at Andrew. Bella’s heart hung heavily in her chest. So he had heard. “Here, let me help you down.”

  He lifted her from the buggy in one easy movement, his strong hands warm through the thin fabric of her gown. “You look very nice tonight, Miss Tennyson.” Bella wondered why she had suddenly become Miss Tennyson to him. He let her go so quickly it was as if she had burned his hands.

  “Thank you … Mister Eagleson,” she said, not sure if she wanted to cry. Did he think she was as bigoted as her brother? “You look very nice too.”

  He wore a black suit, with a crisp white shirt with a black shoestring tie and stood head and shoulders above every other man in the vicinity.

  “So,” said Andrew, who had climbed down from the buggy and walked around to them. “When are we going to meet the lucky lady, Vance?” He seemed unaware that he had caused offence. Or, thought Bella sadly, perhaps he did not care.

  “Gloria is coming soon, I hope. Your sister has kindly agreed to put her up for a while.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful. I’m sure we’ll all be great friends. Now if you two will excuse me, I need to find Mister Griffiths. I don’t suppose you’d be kind enough to escort my sister the rest of the way?”

  “I’m honoured you trust her to me,” said Vance, through tight lips.

  “Of course, I do. You’re a good friend, Vance. I was just saying so to Bella.”

  Bella cringed at Andrew’s patronising tone. She wished he would hurry up and leave them alone. When he saw Griffiths in the distance, he did just that.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Vance, when Andrew was out of earshot.

  “You don’t have to apologise for your brother. I told you that.”

  “I know but his behaviour in a saloon is one thing. The way he spoke about you is another.” She looked up at him with large sad eyes. “Why did you call me Miss Tennyson? I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, but maybe your brother is right. Maybe your association with me isn’t a good thing.”

  “I don’t care what others think,” said Bella. “I just don’t want us to be awkward with each other. You’re one of the few people I can trust here.”

  “But your brother wouldn’t let you marry me.” Vance sounded bitter, but also tired. As if the insult were one he had to swallow too many times.

  “Surely the discussion is academic since you’re engaged to Gloria,” she said, trying hard to smile.

  He reached up and stroked her cheek. “And what would you say, Bella? If I did ask.”

  They seemed to stand there for an age, whilst he waited for her to answer. She wanted to say ‘oh yes’, to tell him that she would be proud to be his wife, and that since the day she met she had lain awake at night thinking about him, and what it might feel like to be in his arms. To do so would be to lay herself bare, and she could not do that. Not knowing that he was in love with someone else.

  “But you wouldn’t because you’re in love with Gloria, so I think it’s best if we don’t discuss it. Don’t you?”

  “I think I just got my answer,” he said, his face darkening. He turned and walked away from her. After a few feet, he stopped and turned back. “Come on.” He held out his arm. “I promised your brother I would escort you to the dance, and I never break my promises. Miss Tennyson.”

  Bella took his arm meekly, more miserable than she had ever felt. Her reply seemed to have convinced him that she felt the same way as her brother, but what else could she have said? After all, he had not made a proper marriage proposal. He had been talking hypothetically. If only she could have answered in the same way, but for Bella there was nothing hypothetical about her feelings for Vance Eagleson.

  The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. The Petersons were good hosts, insisting everyone ate well from the buffet of fried chicken, spare ribs and potato salad. The dancing, for Bella, was exhilarating, and a million miles away from the sedate tea dances she attended in England. People whooped and cheered, whilst following what to Bella sounded like impossible instructions from the leader of the band.

  When a young man approached her and asked her to dance, she looked around for Vance but he was deep in conversation with Mr Peterson and another man, whilst a young woman hung on his arm looking up at him with doe eyes. So Bella allowed herself to be led to the dance floor.

  “You’ll have to translate for me,” she said to her partner.

  “Heck, ma’am I don’t have a clue what they say most of the time. I just follow everyone else.” So that was what they did, sometimes getting tangled up in a sea of arms. No one seemed to mind. Everyone behaved with informal abandon. It was exhausting but exhilarating for Bella.

  Andrew was a great hit with the young women, who all adored his accent. Bella was asked to dance many times after the first young man approached her, but never by Vance. He drew his own circle of admirers.

  “You must tell us all about your great-grandfather,” one young lady purred. Bella was waiting to get a drink of punch and Vance and the girl had approached the table. “Was he really a savage?”

  “It depends what you mean by savage,” said Vance, not seeming in the least bit offended by the crass question. “All men are savages when stripped to the bone.”

  “Why, Marshal, I do believe you are the most provocative man I’ve ever met.”

  “Yes, but would your brother let me marry you?” said Vance. Bella froze, her glass mid-air.

  “I don’t have a brother, and daddy lets me do whatever I want.”

  “Unfortunately,” said Bella, in icy tones, “the marshal is already spoken for. Which is a great loss for the ladies of Milton.”

  “All is fair in love and war,” said the young women, clearly besotted.

  “Be careful, Miss Grant,” said Vance. “You’ll be leading me astray.”

  “Oh I do hope so,” said Miss Grant.

  Bella slammed down her glass and walked away. A waltz had just started and she found herself standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, not knowing which way to turn, whilst others danced around her. Suddenly a hand caught hers. It was Vance. “We’d better start dancing before they run us over,” he said, putting his hand on her waist.

  They began to move in time to the music. The singer was lamenting about a rather accident-prone girl called Clementine.

  Bella could feel her heart beating fast as Vance held her close, his body against hers taut and stron
g. They danced for a while, until the ice between them began to thaw. She would have gladly spent the whole evening in his arms. There were other good-looking men at the dance, but Vance eclipsed them all. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. His warm breath brushed her neck. “I shouldn’t have said all those things.”

  “Then why did you? To impress Miss Grant.”

  “No, because you didn’t give me the answer I wanted.”

  “You’re engaged to someone else.”

  “And that upsets you?”

  “It’s none of my business,” said Bella. It hurt her to breathe, thinking of him being with Gloria.

  “One day I’ll persuade you to tell me how you really feel.”

  “Please don’t play games with my heart, Vance. Unlike Miss Grant, I’m not experienced enough with men to know how to respond in kind.”

  He brushed the centre of her palm with his thumb, causing a thrill to charge through her body. “Being responsive to a man is more than about knowing what to say,” he whispered. “Miss Grant there would run a mile yelling ‘savage’ if I touched her the way I just touched you.”

  “I’m only staying because we’re in the middle of a dance and it would be rude for me to walk away,” said Bella. As much as she tried to be angry with him, she found his closeness intoxicating. It would suit her if the dance lasted forever.

  “Would you run if I kissed you?”

  “I’d probably slap your face.” Bella was not quite sure that was true, but she tried to say it and mean it, which she felt was at least something.

  “Really?” He grinned. “You’d slap my face?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “But you’re such a polite little English girl. Surely you’d just faint.”

  “You appear to be confusing me with some other little English girl,” said Bella “If you behaved like a cad, I’d be forced to slap you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed at that. “A cad? What a quaint old word.” He put his mouth nearer to her, until she felt his lips brushing her cheek. “Believe me, the way I feel right now if I kissed you, you’d be yelling ‘savage’ not ‘cad’.”