Looking at David, Elliott asked, “Can ye two handle it?”
David sat on the edge of the desk, his arm around Kenzie’s waist. “Aye, but we want to take Rick with us.”
Rick smiled and offered a salute. “I’m your man.”
“Rick’s never been on an adventure before. Ye need someone with experience. How about Pete?” Elliott said.
“Pete’s got other commitments right now,” Kenzie said. “Rick is a few weeks out of a war zone. His instincts are as sharp as they’ll ever be.”
“I’m still surprised every morning when I wake up and discover I’m home,” Rick said.
“I bet you’re finding civilian life flat and purposeless after the intensity of Afghanistan,” Kenzie said.
He nodded. “You nailed that one.”
“I’ve been there,” she said. “If you go with us, you’ll be immersed in something less stressful but with a similar challenge. I think it will be a good adjustment for you.”
“How long will we be gone?” Rick asked. “Not that I have anything else to do right now, but Pops will ask.”
“If we’re using the diamond and amethyst brooches,” Kenzie said, “we’ll be back within a minute of leaving. Although for us, we could be in the past for days or weeks. It depends on how far we have to travel to find Amber once we get there.”
“Won’t the stones take us to her?” Rick asked.
“In Amy’s case,” JL said, “the stones took us to New York City, but Amy had gone to Pittsburgh for the weekend. If Amber is in Leadville, and she decides to take a trip to Denver or Morrison with the intention of returning, you might arrive in Leadville and have the choice of waiting for her to return or going after her.”
“When are you leaving?” Connor asked.
David looked at Kenzie. “Twenty-four hours?”
She nodded. “I can be ready.”
“Is there any information you need from Olivia that might help find Amber?” Connor asked.
David didn’t want to divulge the extent of his intrusive investigation into Amber’s life, so he just said, “We have enough to find her, but if there’s something specific ye hear that might help us, let me know.”
“If she’s looking for a job in Leadville or wherever she goes,” Connor said, “she might consider singing in a saloon or a theatre. She plays several instruments and might use her talent to earn money for room and board.”
David already knew she performed regularly at charity benefits but didn’t mention it. Maybe one day they could perform together. The family still talked about the sing off at Kevin and JL’s wedding, and the kids clamored for an encore every time they all got together. If more musicians or singers joined the clan, they could call themselves the von MacKlenna Family.
“Wherever we land, we’ll check out the local entertainment,” Kenzie said.
“Then the three of ye, it is,” Elliott said. “Let’s keep the news of Amber and her brooch within this circle until after we get through the fire and its aftermath. Meredith couldn’t handle it. She’ll be pissed when she hears of it later, but after she thinks about it, she’ll understand why she was kept in the dark. At least I hope so.”
“There’s no way I’m telling Kevin,” JL said.
“The lad could handle it now,” Elliott said.
“Oh, I know he could handle news of another brooch, but he’ll go nuts over the expense, especially in light of the winery’s future losses.”
“Jack Mallory isn’t going on this trip. That cuts the budget in half. Mr. High Roller always insists on first-class accommodations. Three-star hotels suit me fine,” David said.
“For McBain, hotels are cheap, but transportation costs always eat up the budget,” Kenzie said. “Now, should we tell Jack what’s going on?”
“I vote no,” JL said. “We texted this morning. Amy made him put his manuscript aside for a few days to focus on wedding plans. They have meetings scheduled with the wedding planner, preacher, musicians, photographer, you name it. He doesn’t need anything else to distract him right now.”
“Is Amy turning into a bridezilla already?” Kenzie asked.
“I don’t think she will. There’s a calmness about Amy that I wish I had. It seems to have calmed Jack.”
David laughed. “I assure ye, it’s not Amy’s calmness that’s relaxed Jack.” David winked at Kenzie, and her cheeks pinked.
Elliott’s phone rang. He checked for the caller’s name and number. “It’s Meredith. They must have told her to bug out.” He pushed accept and put it on speaker. “Hey, Mer. I’m here with David, Kenzie, JL, and Rick. What’s the latest update?”
“We just got evacuation orders.” There was steel to Meredith’s normally velvet voice, and it reverberated through the phone’s speaker. “We ran out of time and couldn’t store the replaceable furniture, but the antiques, collectibles, and paintings are in the cave along with all the records, computers, and security equipment. The bulk of this year’s crop was already picked. But the later ripeners like cabernet sauvignon, merlot, and syrah grapes are still hanging and susceptible to smoke taint. If that’s the case, we’ll take a loss there, but hopefully we can save the vineyards.”
“What about the fermenting wines?” JL asked.
“They were left open to the smoke-tainted air. We’ll lose the fermenting wines, too. Kevin has been calculating potential losses. I told him I didn’t want to hear the numbers right now. I’ll have to get somebody in here to work with the insurance companies. Preferably an attorney who’s handled large conglomerates that have lost entire operations to a fire. I’ve got the names of two attorneys who come highly recommended. My first choice is out of the country right now.”
“Should I be concerned you’re not including me?” Kenzie asked.
“If I could take everything else off your plate, I would. That’s not fair to the company. You and Jeff are working your asses off already. I can’t expect you to drop everything and work on this exclusively. If we’re going to get back up and running, it has to be a full-time commitment.”
“I’ve heard the devastation to Napa and Sonoma communities is enormous—the lives lost, the homes destroyed—the potential effects on the wine industry itself are not as obvious yet,” Kenzie said. “But if I need to drop everything, I will. Let me know.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Meredith exhaled deeply over the phone. “The impact may not be seen on wine shelves for years. Vintners are reckoning with the future of their businesses. It’s tragic.” Meredith’s report on Napa’s unprecedented situation echoed loud and long.
“We’ll get through it, Mer,” Elliott said.
The silence in the room stretched several beats until David asked, “What about the horses?”
“Shane, Jeff, and Pete left about thirty minutes ago. We’re all meeting in Reno. I want to be away from the smoke but close enough to get back in a hurry. They’ll take the horses on to Colorado then decide what to do from there. What’s the latest on buying a ranch?”
“We’ve found one, but it’ll be a few weeks before we can move horses onto the property,” Elliott said. “I’ll come out tonight. Meet ye in Reno.”
“If you want to, but you can’t come to the winery. The air is too smoky. We’re all wearing respirator masks. With Cullen’s heart issues, I wish he’d go back to Kentucky, but he won’t leave. He almost ran off with a firefighter unit.”
“Meredith, ye need to go,” David said. “The winds could change and ye’ll be trapped.”
“Let me know as soon as ye get on the helicopter,” Elliott said.
“Kit, Cullen, Maria, and Pops are with me in the car.”
“Where’s Kevin?” JL asked.
“He’s driving behind us. We didn’t have room for the computer equipment and files he packed. We’re almost to the heliport. All the employees are gone. There’s nobody left to watch it burn. Talk to you soon. Love you, El.”
The phone went dead, and those in the room, all glassy eyed, held up t
heir glasses for a refill. David poured a wee dram into each, and JL clinked her juice bottle to their drinks.
“Slainte,” they all said in unison, then put down their glasses and left Elliott’s office.
David squeezed Kenzie’s hand as they walked out of the building. The twins were in school and Granny Alice had taken Laurie Wallis to a play date. They would have two hours alone to finish what they’d started in the bathroom. They needed uninterrupted time together to absorb all that happened and prepare for what was to come.
As they drove off in a golf cart, Kenzie said, “Montgomery Winery isn’t just a business in the family portfolio. Along with the farm, the winery is the backbone of this family. Its destruction will destroy a piece of us all.”
11
The Present, Hughes Cabin, Colorado—Connor
Connor woke, shivering. Except for the glowing embers in the fireplace and the dim light of the oil lamps, he was surrounded by darkness with only the soothing sound of rain on the tin roof to remind him he was in the mountains with Olivia.
He sang quietly: “His love’s like/Rain on a tin roof/Sweet song of the summertime storm/And oh the way that it moves you/It’s a melody of passion raging on/And then it’s gone.” Humming the next verse, he scratched his balls—the thing men did when they woke. As a kid, his brothers told him guys did that to be sure the Pooka, considered to be a vicious Irish prankster, hadn’t stolen them while they slept.
He cracked his knuckles and gazed longingly at the beautiful woman dozing in the chair beside him. Olivia had a slight smile on her lips. For her, a slight smile was a dazzling smile and one that could change a man’s day if bestowed on him. It certainly had changed his. He’d hoped for a romantic dinner tonight at the Palace Arms Restaurant to celebrate signing a contract for the purchase of the ranch. Instead, the candlelight dinner would be a freeze-dried gourmet meal in a cabin in the Colorado mountains without electricity or a hot shower.
If he was complaining, he deserved a swift kick in the ass.
The fire needed attention. He set about bringing it to life again, throwing on a few logs and tossing in more kindling. Soon, he had it roaring, infusing heat into the room.
Olivia’s eyes opened slowly. “Sounds like it’s still raining. It’ll probably continue throughout the night.” She folded the blanket he’d tucked around her, laid the soft wool across her lap, and distractedly combed the fringe with her fingers. “We’re stuck here, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t mind being stuck in a mountain cabin with a beautiful woman and no electricity, but I should have been a better Boy Scout and come prepared with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.”
She gave him a slow promising smile. “I was a Girl Scout. Come with me.” She took his hand and tugged him along behind her. “I need help with the table. Grab one end and help me move it over toward the sink.”
He shot a quick glance under the table. He didn’t see a hiding place under there. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.”
He lifted the table a couple of inches off the floor. “What’s this made of? Aspen logs and lead?”
“It might be. It’s over a hundred years old and solidly built.”
“You’re right about that.” They moved the six-foot table off the multi-colored rug and across the floor a few feet. With the table out of the way, he had a full view of the mountain-scene rug with a black bear in the center. “Was this made on the loom?”
“My grandmother made it. My mother made the one in front of the fireplace, and Amber made the ones in the bedrooms.”
“Where’s yours?”
“In a closet. I’m the worst weaver in the family.” She knelt. “Help me roll this up.”
He had a suspicion he’d find a trapdoor under the rug, but when it was rolled and pushed aside, exposing the floor, there were no flat hinges or cut edges. Olivia stomped on one of the boards with the heel of her boot, triggering an invisible latch, and a door approximately three by five soundlessly sprung open on oiled hinges.
“Help me lift it,” she said.
The door was as solid as the table. “You’d be protected if a tornado came through here, but I don’t guess Colorado has many of those.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “Weld County, Colorado, has more tornado segments than any other county in the nation.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Severe weather is a daily reality in Colorado,” she said. “April through August can be nerve-wracking to homeowners. The first question I get from potential buyers when I show property is, ‘Have there been tornadoes around here?’”
“I didn’t ask, and you didn’t mention it.”
“There hasn’t been one, in my lifetime at least, anywhere near the property you want to buy. Thankfully, tornado activity over the past three years is in decline.”
“Let’s hope that trend continues.” He snagged a lantern hanging from a nearby hook and swung it back and forth over the opening in the floor. “Is this a potato cellar?”
She perched on the top step of what appeared to be as solidly built as the cabin. “No potatoes. Down here we keep what we don’t want stolen. I’ll take the lantern and guide the way. Watch your head. There’s a low ceiling warning sign for tall people.”
Even reading the sign, he bumped his head. “Ah. Crap.”
Olivia let out an easy laugh, full of genuine affection. “Dad’s noggin has put a few dents in the headrail.”
He didn’t see stars, but he did see a few tiny dots. “Then my dent is right beside his.”
“Sit down on the steps if you’re dizzy.”
“I’m okay.”
She turned the light toward him. “You’re bleeding.” She snagged a tissue from her pocket and wiped the blood. “There’s a medical box down here. I’ll give you a smiley face Band-Aid for your boo-boo.”
“I’ll settle for a kiss.” He smiled. “That’s a sure-fire remedy. At least, that’s what my mom always said. After a kiss, the cut, bump, bruise never hurt again.”
“Let me see what I can do.” She stood on tiptoes and kissed his forehead. “Is that better?”
“Much.” The kiss lingered in his mind and on his skin, and only her warm body entwined with his would quell his hunger for her. She stared up at him provocatively from under fluttering eyelashes and ran her tongue along the seam of her lips, giving him a look that said, “If you want to kiss me, it’s okay with me.” But what if he was wrong and jumped the guardrails? What would they do, stuck in the cabin overnight, with Olivia upset because he’d made a move on her?
Before he could analyze the look further, her mouth drew up in a sober smile and she glided away from him. The possibility that he’d blown his only chance exploded in his mind. He redirected his thoughts, but somehow, they landed on his sister and her husband. When they first met, they were like rabbits having a weekend fling. But Connor wanted more. He wanted a forever romance. Moving on her when she had no escape route wasn’t gentlemanly. It wasn’t how the O’Grady men treated women. He ran his hand over his hair and redirected his thoughts again, this time to the cold cellar.
The wall on the left held neatly stacked skis, poles, and an assortment of shovels and rakes. The wall on the right held a half-dozen floor-to-ceiling shelves stocked with labeled jars of canned goods and packages of freeze-dried food. The back wall was fitted with cubbyholes holding hats, jeans, shirts, jackets, underwear, shoes. And in the center were racks filled with thirty to forty bottles of wine.
His eyebrows went up, but his gaze remained steady. “This isn’t a basement. It certainly isn’t a potato cellar. It’s all about wine.”
“My grandparents started the collection, then my parents continued it, and now Amber and I keep it stocked. There isn’t much to do up here at night except drink wine and sing.”
“Sounds like perfect entertainment to me.” Add sex, and you’d have a trifecta.
He followed her about the room like the shadows sh
e created. “You said you put items down here so they won’t be stolen. Do you have many uninvited guests?” His voice boomed in the confines of the basement and seemed to echo off the ceiling and walls.
“Two or three every year. Funny thing is, they always leave a note with cash thanking us for the hospitality. We’ve compared the handwriting on the notes and we’re convinced the same people come back year after year. As far as we know, no one has ever found the basement.” She pointed to the cubbyholes. “Feel free to take a clean shirt, jeans, whatever you need.”
“I might borrow a clean shirt.” He searched through one of the cubbyholes and found a polo shirt that should fit him. Then he looked through the packages of freeze-dried food. “This block-text handwriting reminds me of my kindergarten teacher—perfectly written and easy to read.”
“Amber does that for me. Now, what would you like for dinner?” She picked up a package. “How about veal?”
“Chops or scaloppine?
“Scaloppine.”
He stepped over to the shelves of wine and scanned the inventory. “Medium-dry riesling and pinot gris pair best.”
“You sound like a sommelier. I’m impressed.”
“I work for a winery, remember?” With all that she had on her mind, he didn’t tell her about the fires closing in on Montgomery Winery. He pulled out several bottles until he found two that he would recommend. “When I first went to work for MacKlenna Corporation, I was given notebooks to study and had quizzes every week on Thoroughbred breeding, racing, wines, and pairings. Elliott and Meredith wanted us to know as much as possible about horses and wine.”
“From what I’ve seen the last few months, you certainly know your wine and horses. Grab two of those wine glasses and the bottle opener. I think we’ve got everything else we need.”
“What about breakfast?”
“Good idea. Lunch, too. Any requests?”
“Surprise me,” he said.
She picked up a wicker basket and filled it with freeze-dried packages. Then, with food and wine to see them through the next twenty-four hours, they climbed back up to the first floor.
The Amber Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 8) Page 15