Chapter 6

“Getting rough in your old age?” Outside, Bea pressed her body against his as she nipped his ear. “I like it rough.”

He pushed her away. “Keep your mouth shut, and I’ll do the same.”

“What do you mean?” Bea’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve kept quiet about your fling—”

“What fling?” She stiffened.

“Double-dealing on me, you threw yourself at Neuman. Then after he ditched you, you came crawling back—that’s what ‘fling.’ ” His chest heaving, he fumed. “I’ve kept your secret, but if you spread rumors about Maeve, I swear I’ll make your humiliation public. Is that what you want?”

“What I want”—running her talons along his chest, she sidled up to him—“is for us to be together again.”

Her spidery touch made his skin crawl. “You ended anything we had.”

“I made a mistake—one tiny indiscretion.”

“Indiscretion?” He spat out the word like sour milk. “When Neuman’s oil wells came in at a thousand barrels a day, you ghosted me—wouldn’t even return my calls.”

She slithered against him. “I may have misjudged the situ—”

“You ran after him, and he dumped you.” He shoved her away. “To let you save face, I’ve kept quiet. Don’t make me change my mind.” Turning, he strode in the house.

****

Maeve joined him. “What was that about?”

“You and I know nothing happened between us.” Remembering their recent embrace, he shifted feet, then frowned. “I just don’t want Bea starting rumors.”

“Don’t worry about my reputation.” She shook her head. “I’m leaving in a few days, but while you were outside, I figured out how the Mercury dime could benefit us both.”

“It’s yours.” He crossed his arms. “Subject closed.”

“Nope.” She shook her head, her shiny hair swinging with each movement. “But you are right about one thing…”

****

“It’s mine.”

“Damned straight, it is.” Planting his legs wide apart, he gave an affirming nod.

“To do with as I please”—I smothered a grin—“right?” Got him.

His eyes narrowing, he hesitated. “Meaning…”

“I want to invest it.”

“I’ll probably regret asking”—he took a slow, deep breath—“ but invest it where?”

“In your winery.”

“No.” Uncrossing his arms, he stood to his full height.

“It’s my money to do with as I please.” Straightening my spine, I stood up to him.

“Chateau Mont Bleu isn’t a public offering.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t invest in it.”

“Not if the owner doesn’t agree.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” I threw up my hands, frustrated that he’d balk at my offer.

“Trouble in paradise?” Her last word a hiss, Bea strolled past, her smile a lingering sneer.

Luke’s eyes blazed, then narrowed to slits.

I rested a light hand on his forearm, redirecting his attention. “This is the only fair solution. A dime appeared from nowhere on your property, in your wine cellar.”

“Coincidental.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences, remember?” I shook my head. “Everything happens for a reason, and if I ever recognized divine intervention, this is it.”

His stiff jaw softened. “What do you mean?”

“Call it the spirit of cooperation”—I shrugged—“or the spirit of fair play or—”

“Maybe the spirit of a common ancestor?” His eyes twinkled.

“Now you’re making fun of me.” I took a deep breath. “Look, I’m making you a business offer. I say we find out what the Mercury dime brings on the market and invest it in the winery. You get your patio bar. I get a share of the winery.” I raised my chin to meet his gaze. “What do you say?”

He stared silently, the pause growing painful.

Thinking he hadn’t heard, I raised my voice. “What do—”

“Put ’er there.” He held out his right hand.

As I shook hands, my fingers tingled. Despite my resolve to stay detached, a twinge dashed up my arm and catapulted down my spine, ending deep in my belly. I took a breath to steady myself. “This makes it official, right?”

“That’s right”—his grip tightened—“partner.”

“Isn’t this cozy?” Her voice syrupy, Bea approached with Rosie. “What’re you two plotting?”

“What are you insinuating?” Luke spun toward the voice, dropping my hand.

“You two certainly had your heads together.” Rosie smiled as she gestured toward the groaning buffet table and long queue. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but supper’s served. Better get in line before the barbacoa’s gone.”

“When have you ever run out of food?” Luke gave his aunt a skeptical grin before turning toward me. “She always makes enough to feed an army.”

“Flatterer.” Rosie playfully tapped his shoulder, then gave me a friendly smile as she half-turned toward Bea. “Have you two met?”

“Maeve’s had the pleasure.” His face soured.

Rosie quirked a brow, side glimpsed Bea, then gestured toward the crowded dining-room table and packed living room. “If you can’t find empty chairs, the back porch and gazebo have plenty of seating.” She squeezed my hand. “Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” Then remembering the diary, I pulled the thin notebook from my purse and pressed it into her hand. “This was Marianna’s journal, and I’d like you to have it.”

“No.” Rosie’s jaw dropped. “I can’t take something so valuable.”

“It’s hardly valuable.” I eyed the water-stained diary.

“Because it was Marianna’s, its sentimental value is priceless.”

“This is just one of many, and we’ve already read it. Now it’s yours.”

“Thank you.” Rosie clasped the booklet to her chest.

“Thank you for welcoming me.”

“Of course. You’re family.” She gestured toward the buffet table. “Now, go eat and enjoy yourselves. Meet the rest of the family.”

Bea’s mouth opened as if to remark.

Luke flicked her a sharp glance.

Intervening, I tugged his hand as I inhaled the smoky, mouthwatering aromas wafting from the table. “The barbacoa smells wonderful. Let’s get in line.”

He turned toward me, his face relaxing, then gave Rosie a hug. “Being the family historian, you’ll enjoy the diary.”

As we walked away, I spoke under my breath. “What was that exchange about with Bea?”

“What exchange?” His eyes innocent, he shrugged.

“Don’t play dumb.” I wrinkled my nose. “If looks could kill, you’d be arrested for homicide.”

“I don’t trust her.” He took a deep breath. “But I am hungry, so, yes, let’s get in line.”

Five minutes later, I set my overloaded plate on the metal table and glanced about the octagonal gazebo. “Everyone else is on the porch or inside.”

“Good.” He grinned. “I’ve got you all to myself.”

“How am I supposed to meet the family?” Hunching my shoulders, I lifted my hands.

“You will…later, but I want to be sure you’ve thought through this winery investment.”

“The dime was yours from the start. I shouldn’t have phrased it as an investment.”

“That’s the only reason I considered your offer.” He met my gaze. “I’d rather you put the money toward a car.”

“Splitting this windfall is the only reasonable solution. Besides…” I laughed at myself for not questioning the online quote earlier. “The estimated value and the going rate may be as different as chalk and cheese.”

“Good point.”

Then from the corner of my eye, I caught movement at the edge of the backyard. “Is that a roadrunner?”

****

He turned his head, following her gaze.

The unmistakable gait of the brown and white-streaked bird gave it away. Stopping mid-stride, the roadrunner puffed its head crest like a cockatoo.

“Yup.” He turned back. “Why?”

“I’ve always liked them.” She gave a hesitant smile. “But when I visited a sweat lodge a few months ago, I learned it was a lucky omen. What began as relaxation therapy ended in a vision quest.” She spread her hands wide on the table. “In my mind’s eye, I saw a roadrunner. The leader told me it’s my totem animal with the message to think on my feet and hit the ground running.”

“Then why did you just roll your eyes?”

“Because the last time I saw a roadrunner was right before I lost control of my car.”

“Maybe its appearance was a heads up. You did some fancy footwork to avoid sliding over that ledge. Besides, if not for that accident, you’d never have connected with your family.” Homing in on her seven freckles, he offered his hand. “And we might never have met.”

She reached across the table to clasp it. “That’s true.”

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

Luke flinched at Bea’s voice. “It’s a free country.”

She pulled a chair so close, her elbow brushed his arm. “Aunt Rosie always has the best get-togethers, doesn’t she?”

“Aunt Rosie?” Her familiarity irked him. “Since when is Rosie your aunt?”

“Figure of speech.” Bea waived away his question with a flick of her wrist, wafting cologne fumes.

The heavy perfume irritated his nose, and he sneezed. Its sickly-sweet scent reminded him of Copper Canyon daisies. The first time he smelled them, he inhaled deeply, enjoying their fragrance, but after an allergic reaction, even a casual whiff churned his stomach.

How much perfume did she use? Did she spill the bottle? His eyes watering, he wrinkled his nose. “Just remembered something.” Breathing through his mouth, he grabbed his plate, pushed back his chair, and stepped away to inhale. “Maeve, can you help me?”

She paused momentarily, studying his face, then gathered her plate and joined him. “Sure.”

“Leaving so soon?” Bea’s eyes flashed, then narrowed. “Lovers’ tryst?”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “Enjoy your meal.” Turning to Maeve, he gestured toward the house with a nod, then strode away, not stopping until they were out of hearing. “Sorry, but her perfume was so strong, it took away my breath. Hope you didn’t mind moving.”

“Not at all.” She shook her head. “A match could’ve set off the charged atmosphere.”

Relieved that she understood, he sighed. “But I did forget the wine.” Balancing his plate on the porch railing, he gestured with his chin. “Can you find us seats, while I run out to the truck?”

****

When he returned, I moved over to make room. “It wasn’t easy finding a place. Rosie’s suppers are popular.”

He glanced at the cramped seating. “Before I squeeze in, let me get a wine opener.”

A second later, Rosie appeared with a twist corkscrew. “Where’s Luke?”

“Just missed him.” I grinned at the irony. “He’s looking for an opener.”

“Seek and ye shall find.” Rosie handed it to me.

I removed the metal wrapper and started opening the wine.

“I’ll do that.” Bea grabbed the corkscrew and bottle from my hands.

“What?” Surprised by the rough jerk, I gripped the bottle, worried it would drop in an exchange.

“You don’t know how to pull a cork.” Bea yanked harder, nearly wrenching the bottle from my hands.

What is this woman’s problem? Not letting go, I held tighter. “I’ve already start—”

“Give it to me!”

Not wanting to make a scene, I let go. “Winning” isn’t worth stooping to her childish behavior.

“This is how to open a bottle.” Speaking with an air of authority, Bea turned the bottle counter-clockwise while she held the opener stationary.

I rolled my eyes.

The cork came out with a loud pop.

“Now”—pulling out the cork, Bea held the bottle high, brandishing her trophy—“who wants wine?”

“I’ll have some.” A man from the other end of the porch held up his glass.

“You got it.” Wearing a victorious grin, Bea sashayed toward him, trailing her perfume.

I sneezed. Is she scent marking her territory?

“Couldn’t find a corkscrew.” Luke squeezed in beside me.

“Rosie brought one.” I scowled as I presented the opener, the cork still on its tip.

His brow wrinkling, he studied me. “What happened?”

“Your friend…” Swallowing a groan, I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“No, tell me.”

“I don’t want to sound like a tattletale.”

“What happened?” Straightening his spine, he spoke in carefully controlled tones.

“Bea insisted on opening the bottle—in fact, jerked it from my hands.”

“I’ll talk to her.” His face and ears red, he started to rise.

“No, please don’t.” I placed a light hand on his forearm. “It’s not important.”

“You’re sure?”

“Just let it go.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why Rosie includes her at the family gatherings.”

“Doesn’t matter. Why rock the boat? I’m leaving soon, anyway…” The thought triggered others, and I reached for the Mercury dime in my pocket. Am I leaving? It isn’t likely my car will be ready any time soon—and I did offer to partner in the winery…The impact of the dime deal hit home.

“You’re leaving?”

“You sound surprised.” I forced an uneasy grin. “Yeah, when—if—I can drive my car.”

“That’s right.” His smile sagged. “Somehow, I thought…”

“I’m just passing through.” I homed in on his lips, recalling their gentle insistence. I’ve got to be honest.

“Seems longer than two days since we met—maybe because we’ve spent every waking moment together.”

“And then some…” Bea leaned over in a sibilant whisper as she swept past, her perfume’s stench fanning behind her.

I began to cough. My eyes tearing, I dabbed them with a tissue and breathed through my mouth until the fumes dissipated.

“Let’s eat somewhere Bea can’t follow.”

“Where?” I blinked through watering eyes.

“My truck. It’s the only place we’ll have any privacy.” He gave me a crooked smile. “If you’ll grab our drinks, I’ll get the plates.”

A few minutes later, we sat in his pickup. Windows open, I breathed in the fresh air. “Much better.”

“Sorry about Bea.” He grimaced. “I’ll have a talk with Rosie.”

“Please don’t make waves.”

“You mean, don’t ‘make a stink?’ ” His eyes twinkled. “Too late. Bea’s already done that.”

“She has, hasn’t she?” Chuckling, I nodded. “That cinnamon smell’s stronger than sulfur.”

“Cinnamon…that’s it.” He pulled out his phone, checking online. “As I recall, her cologne is custom made with something that not only smells like but sounds like cinnamon. Here it is…cinnamaldehyde, a common fragrance in perfumes…and mosquito repellant. Yup, it’s her essence, all right.” Shaking his head, he tucked away his phone and turned on the radio.

A country-western tune came on the air.

“Do you two-step?”

“Not really.” I shook my head. “Never learned.”

“If you’re still here Friday night, I know a place with live music.” He leaned toward me. “And I’d be happy to teach you.”

Tempted, I entertained the idea but shook my head. Don’t start something you can’t finish. “Thanks, but if the car’s ready, I’ll be long gone.”

“And if the parts haven’t come in or the car’s totaled, then what?”

“I take life one day at a time.”

“So, you’re waiting for a ‘sign,’ is that it?” He sat back, as if challenging me.

“Not necessarily.” I pursed my lips, annoyed he reduced my agenda to superstition. “I’m trying to squeeze the plans I’d made before the accident to fit the current circumstances—cram square pegs into round holes.”

“What about the Mercury dime?” He caught my gaze. “Wasn’t that you who proposed I get the patio bar, while you get a share of the winery? And now you’re walking out on our deal?”

“No.” My shoulders slumping, I groaned. “I didn’t say that.”

“So, you’re not leaving?”

“I didn’t say that, either.” Sighing, I reached into my pocket and handed him the coin. “Here. Take it.” Then pulling back my shoulders, I held up my hands. “It’s no part mine, anymore.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He shook his head as he grinned from ear to ear. “You’re not weaseling out of our agreement. No, ma’am! A deal’s a deal, and we shook on it.”

“Okay, I’ll play along…” I gave a begrudging chuckle. “But only until the car’s fixed, then I’m out of here.”

Despite my bravado, my words sounded hollow, even to me. Deep down, I was glad for this delay. I’ve known him what—forty-eight hours? Yet…Losing myself, I leaned closer.

“Not leaving already, are you?” Rosie approached the driver’s window, wearing a pout.

I flinched.

Luke gave me a subtle wink before turning to his aunt. “No, the porch was crowded, so we ate here.”

“Come in when you’re done.” Rosie waved us inside. “I have something for Maeve.”

****

“Good, you’re back.” Fifteen minutes later, Rosie bustled toward us and pressed a small, velveteen pouch into my hands. “Gifts should go full circle.”

I glanced from the gift to the beaming woman. “What do you mean?”

“After a hundred and twenty years, the gift should be returned to the giver”—Rosie folded her hands as if in prayer and held them to her lips—“returned to where its journey began. Open it.”

As I undid the drawstring and tipped the bag, a cameo brooch slid into my hand. “What—”

“This is the pin Cadence gave Marianna the day they met.”

Mentally replaying Grandma’s repertoire of stories, nothing came to mind, and I shook my head.

“This brooch has been in Marianna’s family for a hundred and twenty years. It’s time to return it to Cadence’s family.”

I studied the cream-colored carving on an orange-pink background. “What kind of material is this?”

“A conch shell.”

“I can’t accept this heirloom. It belongs in a museum.” I held out my hand, returning the pin.

“Nonsense, it’s back where it rightfully belongs.” Rosie folded my palm over the brooch. “When you gave me Marianna’s journal, I knew it was time to make this exchange.”

I pressed the brooch against my heart, then hugged Rosie. “Thank you so much. Until now, I’d had only stories—nothing tangible of my great-great-grandmother.”

“Hope it brings you luck.” Rosie’s smile included us both.

“Which reminds me…have you seen this dime?” Luke shared its story.

“Seems like fortune’s already smiling on you.” Rosie’s lips lifted in a half-grin. “That or you have an angel on your shoulder.”

“That’s the second time someone’s mentioned angels.” I pulled back my head, watching her. “What’s their connection with dimes?”

“Angels are messengers. Finding a dime means an angel or departed loved one is reaching out.”

Departed loved one…who?

“And the number ten symbolizes completion, coming full circle.”

I squinted, trying to follow. “Can you give me an example?”

“Cycles are personal—achievements or realized potentials that only you would recognize.” Rosie raised her index finger. “But maybe by coming here to find your roots, you’ve come back to where your ancestors started.”

“Or maybe I’m completing a journey that began in my imagination.” Memories of my grandmother raced through my mind. “First hearing bedtime stories about Fort Lincoln, and now seeing and experiencing it.”

“So, by closing one circle, you spiral to the next.”

“Like the threads of a screw, gradually rising.” I grasped her idea.

Luke flashed the coin. “Maybe finding this dime is the start of a new cycle.”

“Whatever the message, whatever the journey, keep your options open.” Rosie gave an emphatic nod. “Listen with your heart.”

****

Luke side-glanced as he drove Maeve back to town. “What’re your plans for tomorrow?”

“Other than checking on my car and researching the family history at the library, I haven’t any.” She canted her head. “Why?”

“The wind’s changing with a warming trend, which means I’ve got to start pruning the vines tomorrow morning, but in the afternoon, I’d like to check out that dime in Fort Stockton.” He took his gaze from the road. “Want to go with me?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Why not?”

“We won’t know whether it’s worth more than ten cents until we speak with a coin dealer, but in case it has any value, I thought you might like a taste of partnering in a winery.”

“What do you mean?” Her head spun toward him.

“Want to learn how to trim vines?” He tried to keep a straight face.

She groaned. “What am I getting into?”

“Exactly.” He grinned. “After four hours’ working in the vineyards tomorrow, you’ll have firsthand knowledge of how much work’s involved. No surprises. Then when—if—we sell the dime, you can make an informed decision about whether to go ahead with our deal.”

“Good idea.” She nodded. “But can we stop at the repair shop on the way?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not looking forward to hearing the damages, but I am curious.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Look, I gave you that dime.” He pressed his lips together. “If you need the money to fix your car, it’s yours.”

“I appreciate the offer, but we shook, remember? A deal’s a deal…though I have a confession to make.” She gave a wry chuckle. “Vineyards have always intrigued me, even if my only experience has been an hour or two of picking and stomping grapes.”

He caught her gaze. So, she is interested in the business…“You were part of the harvest crew then—the back end of production.”

She nodded. “And I earned a souvenir t-shirt for my efforts, but after slaving in your fields tomorrow, I may have second thoughts about wineries.”

“Consider it field training, where you’ll learn the front end—vine pruning.” He parked at her hotel, then turning toward her, he stared at her lips, recalling their ice-wine sweetness. Should I kiss her good—

“Time?”

“What?”

“What time will you come by?” Her chin down, she watched him through uptilted eyes.

“Sunrise.” Embarrassed by his fantasizing, he bunched his lips. “I’ll meet you here at seven.”

“ ’Til then.” She cracked the door but, before bolting out, grazed his cheek with a kiss. “See ya.” With an impish grin, she was gone.

What just happened?