Bella's Vineyard

by Sally Quilford

  “Very well,” said Bella. “Since we’ll have so much to do over the next few months, I’ll do as you ask.” She picked up Hector. “Come on, we’ve been ordered inside.”

  “There she is,” said May, when Bella entered the kitchen. Shen’s sons were sitting around the table eating. They greeted her with affection. “What do you want, honey?,” May asked. “Do you want some steak? Or fried chicken? I’ve fried up some potatoes here, just as you like ‘em. D’you know they call them chips in England, Shen? ‘Course being Chinese you won’t know much about fish and chips but Bella loves ‘em.” She turned to Bella. “And there’s treacle tart for dessert. I made it just how you taught me. Here, sit in my rocking chair. It’ll be more comfortable. You can eat with your food on your knees. We ain’t standing on ceremony here, are we, boys?”

  Bella sat down, and let the gentle sway of the rocking chair soothe her. “Please don’t fuss, May.” She closed her eyes and remembered her home in England. They had lived in a small village, just outside London, where everyone knew everyone else. She thought of their house, which was on the village green. They had to sell it to pay some of Andrew’s gambling debts and the cost of the journey to America. Bella wondered if it were still empty and whether the local squire who bought it might rent it out to her. She pictured her room, which overlooked the square, and the few friends she had left behind. Life, despite Andrew’s problems, had seemed simpler then. Here, in this wide-open country, she was out of her depth.

  When she opened her eyes again, Shen’s boys had gone. May sat at the table darning her socks. “Did you have a good sleep, honey? I’ve kept your dinner warm.”

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “About an hour or so. It’s what you needed. The boys said to say goodnight. They didn’t want to wake you. They’re good kids, Shen’s sons, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they’re decent young men. May?”

  “What, honey?”

  “I’ve been thinking about going home.”

  May put her sock down. “You are home, honey.”

  “You know what I mean. I’m exhausted and sad. I wondered if … well … if you could buy the vineyard from me. I won’t ask much. Just enough for my fare home and enough to live on until…”

  “Until what? What are you going to do in England? You’ve told me yourself that there’s no way a young lady out there can earn a living.”

  “No, that’s true. But I could take in mending. Or write. There’s a lady in our village that writes stories and sells them to newspapers. Years ago, she was published in Charles Dickens’ magazine, Household Words.”

  “Is he the one who killed off Little Nell?”

  “Well … yes.”

  “I was just about to forgive him for that then he killed off that poor little street girl, Nancy.”

  “Actually I think Nancy died before Little Nell.”

  “Whatever. I don’t think he likes women, this Dickens guy, so I’m not sure I want your fate in his hands.”

  “He’s dead, May.”

  “Well that just goes to show, doesn’t it?”

  “May, we’re getting off the subject. Of me returning home.”

  “And what do you think the marshal is going to say if he knows I just let you up and leave for England all on your own?”

  “I doubt he cares very much,” said Bella, sadly. “He’s going to be returning here a married man, May.”

  “Now how did you work that out?”

  “They’re engaged and he’s gone to meet her. The proper thing to do, if they’re travelling together like that, would be to get married. I’ve thought about it a lot, and it seems to me that’s why he’s gone. I can’t be here when he returns. I can’t. I love him, May.” Bella put her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands.

  “What happened that night up on the canyon?”

  “Nothing.” Bella sat up again. “I promise you, nothing happened.”

  “Darn it, honey, I don’t care if you did or if you didn’t. I just wanna be sure that if you do run away from here you’re not taking a bundle of other trouble with you. I’d never let you go if that were true. We’d work it out together, honey, you and I.”

  Bella stood up and went to sit at the table. She reached out and put her hands over May’s. “I am not having a baby if that’s what you think. Nothing like that happened. At least, I mean, it didn’t go that far.”

  “So he kissed you then?”

  “We kissed each other.”

  “Well, what are you worrying about? If he kissed you it means he’s got feelings for you. He won’t marry this Gloria person.”

  “He loves her May. I was just an interlude.”

  “Honey, you’re a smart young woman, but you haven’t got a clue when it comes to men.”

  “And you’re an expert?” Bella raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, maybe not, but I know how someone’s eyes look when they could eat a person up like a plate of pancakes and syrup.”

  “But men don’t always love the women they kiss, do they? Look at the girls down at Aunt Kitty’s. I doubt very much the men who go there love them.”

  “They don’t go to Aunty Kitty’s for the kissing.”

  “What do they go for?”

  “I ain’t talking to you about that sort of thing. Happen the marshal will teach you one day. Well some of it, anyway. Not all of it. I’d shoot him myself if he did that.”

  “Not if he’s married to another woman he won’t. I’m not stealing another woman’s husband, May, and neither do I intend being someone’s mistress.”

  “Bella, honey,” May took her hand. “Forget about the marshal for a minute. I know that’s hard for you to do. He fills up your every waking hour. I understand that. But think of me for a moment. When you came here, it was like mine and your Aunt Bella’s baby girl had arrived from nowhere. I know we’re not blood relations, but I’ve come to feel like you’re my own girl. You’re hurting over Andrew’s death and I know the marshal being gone is adding to that pain. But there’s others here who love you and take care of you. Me, Shen, the boys. We all think you’re the cat’s whiskers. Who have you got like that over in England? Who’ll take care of you when you’re sick, or help to mend your broken heart? One of those pale young men you told me about?”

  “I’m beaten, May. This country, it’s won. Like the man said on the train, it’ll drive a person mad. I can feel myself losing my grip.”

  “Aw, honey, you just lost a loved one. Of course you’re losing your grip. The only reason this country drives people mad is that those who come here don’t learn that you gotta climb those mountains. You can’t just stride right on over them. Your brother … God rest his soul … didn’t learn that. You know that. Deep down I know you do. I ain’t saying it’s easy, honey, and I ain’t saying it won’t break your back and your heart at times, when you think you’ve got so far up then something knocks you back down again. But you got it in you to reach the top. You just can’t give up now.”

  “It’s such a hard climb, May,” said Bella. A tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I know, honey but you’re making the mistake of thinking you gotta do it all alone. You haven’t. You got me to pull you up. And Shen, and the boys. We’ll be there, holding out our hands to you.”

  How could Bella tell May that as much as she loved them all, it was not their hands she wanted to see when she looked up?

  “The Marshal will be helping you to, if you just trust in him,” said May, who was even shrewder than Bella had given her credit for.

  “He’s going to be married to someone else, May.”

  “It ain’t over till it’s over,” May said, sagely.

  Chapter Eight

  In Bella’s dream, the ship pulled into an empty quayside and only she disembarked. As far as she could tell, she was the only passenger to have made the trip. No one waited for her as she walked down the gangplank. It came to her with a painful realisation that May had been right. She ha
d no one in England. The gangplank slipped from under her the moment she put one foot onto the quay. She spun around to see the ship already starting its return journey. On the top deck, two people waved to her. She could not make out the woman’s face, although she knew instinctively that this woman was more beautiful and more wonderful than she could ever be. She could tell that by the way the man kept his eyes on the woman as he waved goodbye to Bella.

  “Vance…” she whispered. “No, please, don’t go.”

  They drifted away into the distance, then the sky became ochre and the ship went up in flames. Suddenly she was back in the kitchen at the vineyard. May was baking a cake but when she took it out of the oven the fruit was burned. The aroma hit Bella’s nostrils, sickly and sweet.

  “Come on, honey,” said May. “You’ve got to…” The voice faded before Bella could make out what she said.

  Did she say eat it? Bella thought must be it. But she did not want to eat it. The cake was burned and it would taste awful. Besides what was May doing baking cakes when Vance’s ship had gone up in flames? It was hardly appropriate. “No,” said Bella.

  “Honey, honey, you’ve got to wake up.”

  “I am awake,” said Bella.

  “Darn it, I can’t wake her. I wonder if the smoke got to her.”

  “You shouldn’t have burned the cake,” said Bella. May took her by the shoulders and shook her roughly, which Bella felt was over-reacting a bit just because she said she did not want the cake. May shook her again.

  Bella’s eyes snapped open. She was in her bedroom and by the red light shining through the windows, it appeared that the sun had risen. She could still smell the burning fruit.

  “What is it?”

  “Thank God,” said May. “The vineyard is on fire. Get up, honey. Shen and the boys are trying to put out the flames, but we don’t know how far it’s going to spread.”

  Bella was very much awake then, and rushed around looking for something decent to wear.

  “There’s no time for that, honey. Here’s your dressing gown. We gotta get out of here.”

  They ran downstairs and out into the yard. The fire was on the left of them, near to the bunkhouse and due to the direction of the breeze it advanced on the building rapidly. Flames jumped and crackled, sending sparks up into the night sky. “Shen and the boys?” said Bella.

  “They’re okay, they all got out. They’re round the back getting water from the pump.”

  Bella was about to turn away and follow May to the approach when she saw a tiny head poking out from the bottom of the bunkhouse door. “It’s Hector!” She ran down the path.

  “Honey, come on, you can’t risk your own life just to save that darn rabbit. Bella, please, come back. Oh, damn that girl. I knew I should have killed that rabbit on the first day. Shen! Shen! We got a problem.”

  Bella could hear May prattling on, but her only focus was in saving Hector. She had not let him live to have him cooked in a fire. Besides, he was one of the family. She would no more leave him to his fate than she would leave May, Shen or the workers to theirs.

  As she grew nearer to the bunkhouse she noticed something else. A foot stuck out from the end of the building, and the flames were getting closer to it. She ran to the side and saw by the light of the fire that the man had tripped and banged his head on a rock. It was Bill Tucker.

  Whatever her private thoughts about him, and the fact that he had clearly been involved in setting fire to the vineyard, Bella knew she could not leave him there to die. Hector, she realised with an aching heart, would have to take his chances. She called for the others, and then tried to drag him out.

  “Bella, honey, get out of there. You’re gonna get burned.”

  “May, it’s your brother. He’s been hurt.”

  He was very heavy and it took her a few minutes just to move him a couple of feet. She could hear the others calling to her, the air becoming filled with a cacophony of shouting, but she was so intent on the task in hand she could not hear what they were saying. When she felt the heat on her back, she understood exactly why they had been shouting. She dropped Bill to the ground and turned around. The breeze had sent the fire around in an arc, so that she was trapped in the centre. The only way to go was the direction of the bunkhouse, but there was no door on the other side, and she could no longer get around it. Only a few yards separated Bella and the fire, and she had nowhere to go.

  She heard the others call something about blankets. Yes, that was a good idea. She ran into the bunkhouse and found a couple of blankets, draping one over Bill and the other around herself. Then she heard the others say something about water. She searched the bunkhouse again but there was no water. Only the moonshine that Shen and the workers drank. She doubted that would help, though if she were honest she would not have minded a drink of it to steady her nerves.

  She came back out of the bunkhouse just in time to see the flames shoot higher and a large body, covered in a blanket from head to toe coming towards her. Whoever it was swooped her up. She realised the blanket was soaking wet, and at last understood that they had not been shouting instructions to her, but making plans to save her.

  “What about Bill Tucker?” she cried.

  “We’ll do our best to come back for him. Right now I want you somewhere safe.”

  “Vance?” Despite the circumstances, her heart gave a joyous leap.

  “Hold on tight and cover your head, darling, it’s gonna get a little warm.” With that, he hurtled through the flames and carried her to safety.

  Chapter Nine

  They pulled Bill Tucker out of the fire, but he did not regain consciousness. May tended him whilst the Bella, Vance, Shen and the other workers ran from the pump with buckets of water, trying to stop the spread of the flames. The vineyard itself did not come right up to the front door, but there were shrubs and small trees along the pathway, all of which were brittle due to the hot, dry weather. All it needed was for some sparks to jump across and the house would be next.

  After an hour others began to arrive from the canyon. Ike Peterson and his boys, Mr Grant and his cowhands. They formed a chain, bearing buckets of water from the pump at the back of the house to the fire at the front. They worked with silent determination.

  Finally, as dawn was rising, the fire began to burn itself out. It had taken the bunkhouse, and several acres of the vineyard – it would be a while before they could ascertain the full extent of the damage - but due to some of the men digging a ditch running the length of the house, and filling it with water, it had stopped short the porch. Smoke still billowed in the air, but it was thick and damp, more like fog.

  Bella sat down on the steps of the porch, and Vance sat next to her. Shen and the other workers sat on the ground, passing around canteens of water, part drinking them and part pouring them over their heads. Ike Peterson, Mr Grant and their people had waved them goodbye and returned home a few minutes earlier.

  “All that work,” said Bella. “Up in smoke.” Her eyes stung, but she did not know if they were tears of sadness or the effects of the smoke. Her emotions were so mixed up, it could be either. One thing she had realised, during the long night’s work, was that she could never leave this place. It had taken nearly losing it to teach her how much she loved her home.

  “It’ll grow again,” said Vance.

  May came from around the corner of the house, where she had been tending Bill, as far away from the fire as possible. Bella looked up, a question in her eyes. May shook her head and sat on the bottom step.

  “I’m so sorry, dearest,” said Bella, reaching down and putting a hand on May’s shoulder.

  “I’m not,” said May. “We coulda died because of him. You shouldn’t have risked your own life trying to save him, honey. He meant to kill us in our beds, Bella. And me his kin.”

  “You wouldn’t have left him there,” said Bella. “You’re a better person than that.”

  “No, honey, you are. And we all love you for it.” May got up.
“I’m gonna go take a bath, then cook us all up some breakfast. We need to find somewhere for Shen and the boys to sleep.”

  “They can sleep in the spare rooms, May. We’ll get some wood and build a new bunkhouse. It’ll be bigger and better.”

  “Does this mean you’re not going back to England?” asked May.

  “Yes. I suppose it does.”

  “You were going to go home?” said Vance, when May had gone into the house.

  “Yes. But not now. Thank you for your help last night. How did you know about the vineyard being on fire?”

  “I was on my way up here when I saw the flames.”

  “Coming here? At three in the morning? Is there something wrong in Milton?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh no. What is it, this time?”

  He turned and looked at her. His face was smudged with smoke, yet she could have still, as May said, eaten him up like a plate of pancakes and syrup.

  “You’re not there.”

  “Oh.” Bella shifted her gaze downwards. “But Gloria is, I suppose. She came back with you, didn’t she?”

  Shen, who was watching the scene, muttered something to the other workers and they began to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” asked Bella. “You should get some rest.”

  “We are going to wash in the creek, Miss Bella. Then we will come and get some food. You and the marshal have your talk.” Shen smiled, knowingly. Bella blushed as they walked away.

  “You were saying about Gloria?” said Vance.

  “That you brought her with you.”

  “What made you think I was going to do that?”

  “Because I thought that’s why you went. To bring her back to Milton. Didn’t you?”

  Vance leaned back onto the step and stretched out his long legs. “I need to explain to you about Gloria.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything. I know you are engaged to be married. I knew that when we … I’ve always known.”

  “You really think I’d have kissed you the way I did, if I was in love with another woman?”