St. Helena Vineyard Series: A Beautiful Disaster (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Nan O'Berry

  “Your wish is my command.”

  She waited as he stepped around and hefted two large pots of mums.

  With one on each hip, his arm wrapped protectively around them, he stepped back toward the wagon.

  Alyssa found herself blushing at the thought he would be perfect for one of those cheesecake calendars. “Mr. October,” she murmured beneath her breath.

  “Huh?” He gave her a questioning look.

  Her brow arched. “I said,‘lavender looks good on you.’ ”

  Jericho put one of the pots down and shifted the second in front of him. “It matches my eyes.” He batted his dark lashes.

  Alyssa bent down to Molly. “He thinks he’s being funny,” she told the dog.

  Molly’s tail thumped against her leg and she let out a sharp bark.

  “Molly,” Jericho warned. “Remember our talk?”

  The dog whined and immediately sat down.

  “What did you say to this poor puppy?”

  Jericho picked up the handle of the wagon and looked smug. “I told her, she couldn’t bark or run while we were out or there would be no treats.”

  “You are bad,” she told Jericho and together they laughed. “Come on let’s get these paid for.”

  Walking toward the register, Jericho fell in step with Alyssa.

  “May I ask a question?” She began, her voice taking on a timid tone.

  “Sure.”

  Alyssa swallowed. “How did a male dog get the name, Molly?”

  “Ah, it’s quite simple. When Tatum was young, he picked out Molly and didn’t quite look at the plumbing.”

  “Plumbing?” She gave him a look of disbelief. “We’re calling it plumbing?”

  Jericho gave a nod. “Yes, yes we are. He kept calling the dog, Molly and the name stuck.”

  “Oh, that’s going to make a lovely story for his senior year book.”

  Jericho winked. “You know it.”

  They came to a stop and waited in line for the next available cashier.

  “Well, I love you anyway, Molly.”

  The dog stepped closer to her and gazed up at Jericho as if to say, she likes me more.

  Jericho gave them both a glower.“Traitor,” he spoke to the dog, who seemed to smile.

  Plant’s purchased and loaded into the back of the truck, Alyssa waited for Jericho to open her door. She stepped onto the running board and paused. “This was awfully nice, Jericho. Thank you.”

  “Hold that complement. You haven’t seen me dig yet.”

  Laughing, she took her seat beside Molly as he closed the door. Watching him hurry around the front, she stroked the silky fur of the dog and murmured, “He’s a real keeper, isn’t he?”

  Molly’s tongue hung out the side of her mouth and she seemed to grin as if to say, you bet’cha.

  Two hours later, they had most of the flowers planted. Sitting back on his heels, Jericho watched as she placed two more Ivy plants toward the back of the fountain.

  Carefully, she laid the trailing vines along the bowl of the fountain before stepping back.“What do you think?”

  Jericho studied it for a moment. “Arranging the vines helps, right?”

  She nodded. “It does, the vines will now grow along the bowl. I might have to trim it once or twice but it will be thick come spring.”

  “So…” He rose and dusted off his palms. “Are we done?”

  She grabbed the rake and handed it to him. “Almost.”

  He held on to the wooden handle and watched as she grabbed up the other tools they’d used.

  “Just follow me.”

  He had to swallow the cheesy come on line, to the ends of the earth, but somehow, he managed.

  Once the tools were put away, Alyssa awarded him with one of her rare radiant smiles. “We are officially done.” She glanced over at the repaired garden. Her voice took on a whimsical tone. “It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?”

  It seemed natural, so Jericho stepped over and draped an arm over her shoulder. “Yes, it’s spectacular.”

  Her head turned.

  He realized they were nearly lip to lip. His gaze focused on her succulent looking mouth. There was a hitch in her breathing. The distance between them lessened.

  “I-I…” She paused and stepped out from beneath his arm. “I need to repay you for your generosity. A glass of lemonade? I made it fresh this morning.”

  Jericho gave a tug on the hem of his t shirt and cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Lemonade would taste nice.”

  The blush on her cheeks told him she was just as affected by their close proximity as he had been.

  “Let’s sit on the porch.”

  Turning, he followed her toward the house. Not a bad view, he told himself. He liked the way the denim of her jeans graced the curves of her body. She wasn’t flaunting herself. No exposed skin, but her walk, her self-assurance was sexier than any runway model. Yep, if he had to vote, this is the way he would like to spend his Saturday.

  “I’ll only be a moment.”

  “I’ll wait right here.” He pointed to the top step of the porch.

  She paused at the screen door. “You can sit on a rocking chair.”

  He grinned. “What? And miss being eye level with my handiwork?”

  Her laughter filled the yard as she disappeared into the house.

  Jericho lowered himself to the step. Gazing around the yard, he could see her touches everywhere. Hoses wrapped around holders, bird feeders and an immaculate yard. Despite the hours of work it took to pull this off, he found that it was a tranquil place to relax. Placing his elbows on the deck behind him, he stretched out his legs and sighed. “It’s just about perfect.”

  He heard the screen door slam and tilting his head back, he caught Alyssa moving toward him holding their beverages.

  He stood and reached for one. Bringing it to his lips, he took a sip and savored the sweet and sour flavors. “This is really good.” He sighed.

  “Best way to enjoy a late afternoon. May I?” She gestured toward the first step.

  “Sure.”

  He waited until she’d settled before taking a seat beside her. For a bit, they were content to sip their beverage and stare at the beauty of their work.

  “I couldn’t have done this without you,” she whispered.

  “Oh, I doubt that.” He chuckled. “Tell me, any leads on a job?”

  The mood of the afternoon changed. She shook her head. “No. Nothing. It’s hard getting back into the swing of things when you’ve been away for two years or more. Times change. Skills change.”

  Jericho sat forward and placed a comforting hand upon her back. “Now, now, don’t get so down. Did you work on that resume, like I asked?”

  Her head bobbed.

  “Can I read it?”

  There was a vulnerability in her eyes that pulled at Jericho’s heart.

  “It’s bad.”

  “You’re opinion, not mine. Go get it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go get it,” he murmured again.

  Alyssa left her glass on the step and disappeared again, behind the screen door only to return with a piece of paper in her hands. “Here.” She gave a sigh.

  Jericho looked at the paper. It was an honest assessment of her work experiences and why she’d taken the absence from the world.“May I take this?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Take it why?”

  “So I can turn it into the school.”

  Her face was a mask of horror. “Oh, no.” Her head moved back and forth. “It’s bad. No one will ever hire me.”

  “Alyssa.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. The warmth of her skin slid up his arm with a jolt, hitting him with a charge that nearly derailed his heart. “Don’t doubt yourself.”

  She must have felt the same electrical zap because her eyes widened.

  “Let me take this.”

  She stared into his eyes and slowly nodded.

  “Fantastic,” he murmured.
<
br />   Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips across the sensitive skin of her knuckles and to his delight, heard her sigh.

  “So why are you giving me this?” Allen Crane leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk.

  “I guess you can say I owe her a chance. My dog sort of tore up her yard,” Jericho replied. It wasn’t the real answer. He had been struggling with that ever since he’d left Alyssa’s company.

  “Alright, I’ll give her an interview.” Allen sighed. “But she better not be one of those blue haired old ladies, your grandmother likes to shove at us.”

  A weight seemed to rise from Jericho’s shoulders. “She’s not and you won’t regret it.”

  Walking back to his office, Jericho couldn’t contain the smile on his face. His mother would be so proud of him. For the first time in a long time, he’d put someone else’s happiness first. Marching past the front desk, he caught his secretary’s inquisitive glance.“Good morning, Mrs. Davidson.”

  “Mr. Brown.”

  He could feel her eyes follow him as he walked toward his door. Pausing, he turned. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Me?” She lifted her hand and pulled her glasses toward the end of her nose. Tilting her head, she glanced over them. “I think it’s more that I need to help you.”

  “Me?” He blinked.

  “You rarely grin.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s against the law for a man to grin?”

  She grunted. “I hear you worked in the yard this weekend.”

  Jericho’s arms grew slack as the slid down toward his sides. “Mrs. Davidson, you are a born detective.”

  “I have my sources.” She pushed her glasses back into place and turned toward the computer screen. “Oh, package came for you while you were out.”

  “Package? I was only gone about twenty minutes.”He glanced at the door.

  “Sometimes, it only takes a moment.” She shrugged her shoulders and pointed over her shoulder. “Please hurry up and open it. If it tastes as good as it smells, I want the recipe.” Her fingers began to rat-tat-tat on the keys.

  With this action, he knew he’d been dismissed.

  Intrigued, Jericho walked into his office and closed the door. The aroma of baked goods perforated the walls.

  “Oh, wow.”

  He moved to his desk with the small white box, tied with twine. He didn’t really need to read the card attached to the top. He knew immediately who it was from. A tug on the string pulled it loose. He opened the envelope and stared at the card.

  “A note of thanks,” he read the words aloud.

  Flipping the front open, he stared at the neat script.

  Thank you so much, Jericho for restoring my faith. I enjoyed our Saturday outing very much. I hope this will perk up your Monday. Yours, Alyssa.

  He arched his brows and put the card aside. His hands went to each side of the box.

  “Still warm.”

  Slowly, carefully, he lifted the top. The aroma of fresh baked apple pie swirled around him. Jericho groaned in delight. Centered in the bottom of the box sat a flaky crust pie with the cut out of an apple in the center.

  “Still warm, she must have driven over here first thing this morning.”

  He could feel his mouth water. Walking over to the door, he pulled it open then stepped back.

  Mrs. Davidson advanced with paper plates and a knife in hand. “I thought you’d never open that door,” she fussed good-naturedly.

  Jericho stepped back to allow her to enter.

  She moved around to the back of his desk and put the plates down. Then with the skill of a surgeon, she sliced the pastry into eight equal parts and lifted it onto the plate. “First slice is yours. I promised.” She held the plate out for him.

  Jericho stepped forward, took it, and the fork she held out to him.

  “I’m dying. Take a bite.”

  The crust seemed to melt under his fork as he cut the tip of the slice and lifted it to his mouth. Cinnamon, cloves, apple, and vanilla rolled across his tongue. Jericho closed his eyes in delight.

  “Oh, is it that good?” Mrs. Davidson whispered.

  He nodded. “That good.” Jericho opened his eyes and watched as his secretary placed her slice on the next plate and took a bite.

  “Oh my stars and garters,” she groaned. “It’s the next best thing to sin.”

  Jericho could only grunt in agreement, as he spooned another forkful into his mouth.

  Neither he nor Mrs. Davidson spoke until their plates were cleaned.

  “That was just short of amazing.”

  “Indeed,” she agreed. “She said she baked it this morning.”

  “Alyssa must have gotten up early.”

  “Honey, I don’t mean to butt into your business, but…”

  “But?”

  She moved from behind his desk and took his empty plate. “But you best marry that woman, this second.”

  “Just for her cooking?”

  Mrs. Davidson gave him a look that made him wonder if he’d grown horns overnight. “If a woman can cook like that, she’s a prize.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Jericho stepped back so she could walk past him.

  “Oh, put that in the refrigerator and don’t let Dean Stockwell know it’s here. Apple is his favorite.”

  “Gotcha.” Jericho waited until she’d left before closing the door. Moving to his desk, he sat down and picked up the office phone.

  Two rings later, Alyssa’s voice filled his ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Alyssa. Jericho.”

  Her smile sailed through the lines. “I recognized your voice. Did you get your pie?”

  He glanced over at the parts left. “I sure did. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I know. But I wanted to.” She took a breath. “You’re a big help, Jericho. Others might have thrown money at this and walked away. You stepped up, that puts you on a pedestal in my book.”

  Despite himself, Jericho could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind. “Hey, Alyssa?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I promised Tate I’d take him to get his Halloween costume. You up to helping this bachelor get this ‘boo’ on?”

  The phone grew quiet. He held his breath.

  A moment later, her voice returned, “I’d love to.”

  Jericho sighed in relief. “Tate and I will pick you up at eleven this Saturday. He’s got soccer practice first.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

  “See you then.” Jericho ended the call and stared down at the phone. Elated, he turned to his notes to read them over before class.

  Chapter 5

  Alyssa fumbled with her keys. She always enjoyed going to the farmers market down at the Square, but there never seemed to be enough room in her tote to get everything in one bag. Doing her best, she shoved one knee against the back door and flipped the keys over to find the exact one to fit the lock at the kitchen door. A potato shifted, then an onion. She reacted fast nearly dropping the bag onto the floor.

  “Darn it,” she fumed and slid the correct key into the lock.

  Shifting the bags in her arms, she shoved the door open just as the house phone began to ring. Dropping things on the kitchen table, she hurried to the counter where the wall phone still stood. She picked up the receiver and spoke, “Hello?”

  “Is this Alyssa March?”

  “Yes, who is calling?”

  “I’m Allen Crane, the drama professor at Community College.”

  Alyssa clutched the phone with her other hand and squeezed her eyes shut. “Professor Crane, how good to hear from you.”

  “Yes, I have your resume in front of me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I see you’ve been taking some time off to care for a sick relative.”

  “I have. My grandmother had cancer.”

  “Cancer.” He echoed the last word. “Has she gone into rem
ission?”

  Alyssa swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. “No, she didn’t. I’m—she um, she passed away about three weeks ago.”

  “Oh…” His voice sounded apologetic. “I-I’m sorry. I was worried that she might…Well, I can see that won’t make a difference.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, after reading your references, I would like to set up an interview.”

  “Of course.” She crossed her fingers.

  “I have office hours on this Thursday morning from ten to two. Could you come down about eleven o’clock?”

  “Eleven? Yes, I think that could be arranged.” Alyssa mouthed a shout then cast a glance heavenward to whisper a heartfelt thank you.

  “Good,” Mr. Crane replied. “I will see you this Thursday at eleven.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Oh?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do I need to bring anything?”

  There was a pause on the phone. “No, I think I have all that I need here. The interview will be you and I discussing your qualifications. Nothing to fear.”

  “No, no fear,” she repeated. “I will be there.”

  “Excellent. See you Thursday.” Professor Crane hung up.

  “Thursday,” Alyssa replied and hung up the phone.

  For a moment, she stood still. Then the excitement built up and overwhelmed her.

  “Yes!”

  She did a fist pump and swirled around in a happy dance. When she calmed down, she’d call Janet to let her know.

  Thursday arrived much sooner than Alyssa expected. With Janet’s help, she picked out three outfits and decided on the slacks and sweater set, rather than the navy dress. At least with slacks she felt comfortable instead of vulnerable. She kept her hair simple, pulled back in a ponytail. The one nod to an accessory was the scarf Janet had tied around the elastic hair band.

  “Now, go get em’,” Janet cried shooing her from her own house.

  Standing outside the professor’s door, she wished Janet or even Jericho was right there with her. “Might as well get this over with,” she murmured.

  Bringing her hand up to knock, her eyes widened as the door flew open and she found herself staring face to face with tall, squared jawed man.

  “Professor Crane?”

  “Ms. March?”

  She smiled. “Yes, sir.” She turned her gaze toward her up stretched hand and lowered it. “Oh, um sorry. I’m here for my interview.”