“TIMBER!”
Luke Rutledge called out as a huge limb from a maple tree along the side of the vineyard came down with a crash. Logan Taggart was on the far side of Luke, where he’d been holding a rope to keep the limb from falling on the rows of grapevines. Luke nudged Owen’s arm, then called up to the guy in the tree, who’d turned off his chain saw and let it swing from the strap over his shoulder.
“As long as you’re up there, let’s get that other low-hanging limb out of there. Can you reach it?”
“Hell yeah, I can reach it. Let me just adjust my harness hookup.” Burly and bearded, Zayne Taggart easily maneuvered himself to the other side of the tree, bracing one foot on the stump of the limb he’d just cut, and fastening his safety strap around a larger one above him. On the ground he moved with a noticeable limp, but you’d never know it watching him up in that tree. Owen looked at Luke and shook his head with a laugh.
“Your brother is a beast!”
“Tell me about it. He’s unstoppable.” Luke looked down the treeline. “That storm last winter damaged a lot of our trees. I’m glad we’re getting them trimmed. Thanks for helping. I don’t imagine you have much experience with winter storms.”
He waited as Zayne made quick work of the other tree limb with the chain saw. “Guess again, pal. I’ve seen my share of snow.” Just thinking about it made his body tense.
Logan walked over after watching Zayne come down the ladder and out of the tree. “Give me a break. I’ve lived in the South, man, and what you call snow is not what we call snow.”
“Yeah? You ever been to Kabul in January, or up in the Hindu Kush mountains when the temps are below zero before the winds starts howling and the avalanches start breaking free?” He didn’t realize how much his voice had raised until he stopped for a breath. He jammed his fingers through his hair, turning away from the men who’d been nothing but generous with him the past few weeks. A hand rested on his shoulder. It was Logan.
“That was stupid of me. I don’t know how I forgot that you’d served over there.”
“Yeah.” Luke’s voice was filled with regret. “Sorry, Owen.”
Owen nodded. “It’s okay.” He blew out a long breath, trying to slow his adrenaline. He’d been so focused on fixing things with Lucy that sometimes he forgot about what happened over there. It was always a jolt when the memories hit.
Zayne moved in front of him, leaning over and looking up, waiting for Owen to open his eyes. The other man stared hard at him, frowning. Then he straightened with a sorrowful shake of his head.
“I know we just met pal, but you are not okay.”
He stood tall and did his best to smile. “I’m good. It’s not a happy memory, that’s all.”
“When did you get out?” Zayne didn’t look like he’d served. There was a certain way military people carried themselves, and this guy didn’t have it. But he did have that limp.
“I was out in March. You?”
“Never got the chance. Car accident messed up my leg when I was young. But I volunteer at the VA clinic up in Auburn. I drive veterans to their appointments and help them get settled and fill out their forms and stuff. I got to know a lot of the guys. And women.” He shifted his weight. “Especially the ones going to group therapy. They tell me it helps to talk.”
There was a beat of silence among the four men. Luke finally gave his brother a shove. “How many times have I told you to employ that filter of yours?” He turned to Owen. “Zayne spent ten years or so as a hermit, and his social skills are rusty.”
Owen held his hand up. “It’s cool. I got the message.” He looked at Zayne, who didn’t look at all sorry. Owen respected that. “You’re not the first one to suggest therapy, but I don’t think it’s for me.”
Zayne shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me, either, but hey... I’m not a hermit anymore, and I haven’t had a drink in five years, so it seems like maybe it worked.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a vet?”
“I’m not. But my doc has a private practice as well as working the clinic. He’s the one who suggested volunteering to get me out my own head and thinking about other people.” He pulled off his leather work gloves and fished his wallet out of his pocket. He handed Owen a card. “If you change your mind, Dr. Curtis is good at helping you sort through those memories. Especially the not happy ones.”
Instead of smacking at his brother, Luke pulled him into a bear hug. “I don’t tell you often enough how proud I am of you.”
Logan caught Owen’s eye, looking bemused. “I’m pretty sure I heard something about drinking wine after we played lumberjack.”
Luke and Zayne stepped apart, but it was clear that there was a lot going on between them still. Owen clapped his hands, eager to move past all this unexpected emotioning.
“I hope there’s some beer in this place. Wine is really not my thing.”
Luke clasped his hands to his chest dramatically. “You do realize you’re in wine country here, right? That you’re standing in a vineyard? At a winery?” He turned to head down the hill. “And yes, I have beer. My pal has a microbrewery between here and Watkins Glen, and I always have some in the cooler.”
The men headed down to the winery...a Victorian miniature of the main house on the opposite side of the parking lot. Before they went inside, Owen glanced back up the hill, toward where he and Lucy had lunched before strolling into the trees. Where they’d kissed. Now that was a happy memory he didn’t mind hanging on to.
Zayne stopped at the door, looking back at Owen. “You good, man?”
Surely that kiss had changed things between him and Lucy. Surely she’d give him a chance now.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
LUCY STOOD ON the sidewalk just past Piper and Logan’s pink house and looked at the very similar home right next door. Same lacy gingerbread trim. Same covered front porch. Same long, narrow footprint, with a garage behind the house. Instead of the cotton candy pink of the Taggart house with all its heart-shaped trim, this house was many shades of yellow and gold. The trim around the windows was almost orange. She rolled her eyes. Who was she kidding—it was orange. There weren’t any hearts in sight, but there were wooden designs under the upstairs windows that were shaped like tulips.
“What do you think?” Piper stepped off her front porch, carrying two bottles of water. It was hot and humid that afternoon, and there were storms in the forecast later that week. She handed one bottle to Lucy. “It’s cute, right?”
“Cute is one word for it.” Lucy shielded her face with one hand. “Sunny would be another.”
“The Three Sisters are famous in Rendezvous Falls!” Piper laughed, gesturing toward the third house, which was shades of mint green, with leaf-shaped details.
“Three Sisters?”
“Iris told me that back in the 1800s, the guy who had the inn built wanted to build housing for his staff. He only got as far as these three houses. The floor plans are almost identical. People started calling them the Three Sisters, with the inn as the momma.” She shook a key ring in front of her. “Wanna take a look inside?”
“You really think I can afford to rent a whole house?” They walked past the For Sale sign and up to the porch and Piper unlocked the door.
“The owners have about a dozen of these vacation rentals between the Glen and Lake Ontario. They’re trying to sell some of them, including the yellow Sister. But in the meantime, they don’t mind doing rentals.” She stepped inside and Lucy followed. “Especially when they think you might be a buyer...”
“What? I can’t afford to buy a house. I don’t even think I can afford to rent one.”
“I didn’t promise them anything. I just told them you were a friend who was thinking of moving here. They loved the idea of a nice single lady, whom I vouched for, renting long-term, instead of having revolving vacationers in and out every week while the place is on the market.” Piper pulled open the heavy drapes on the trio of large front windows. “Besides, even with your friends-and-family discount at the inn, the monthly rent here will be less than our nightly room rate. And it’s fully furnished!” She swung her arm around at the living room, and Lucy started to laugh.
“Yeah...like a funeral parlor.” It wasn’t ugly, just very... Victorian. A large tufted sofa sat in front of the windows, upholstered in burgundy velvet. The walls were sage green, and the curtains were dark gold brocade, with tasseled ropes holding them back. There were a few wingback chairs and ornate little marble-top tables. The wall opposite the sofa was covered with portraits of Victorian men and women—some were photographs and some were painted.
Piper grimaced. “I know. They went a little overboard with the Rendezvous Falls historical theme. But the kitchen is fully updated—it’s fancier than mine next door. And when I say the place is fully furnished, I mean dishes, cookware, linens...the works. There’s even a cute little deck out back with a wrought-iron table and chairs. I could walk over and have an evening glass of wine with you.”
They walked down the short hall to the kitchen, which really was lovely. Antiqued ivory cupboards, marble countertops, a large island as well as a cozy breakfast table for two by the side window. The upstairs was more Victorian frilliness, but functional and cozy, with three bedrooms and one bathroom. Lucy raised a brow at that.
“Yeah...luckily my house had been remodeled before I bought it, so I have a small master bath plus the other bathroom. But you do have a half bath downstairs, so no one has to come up here except you and—” she gave her a wink “—anyone else you want to invite.”
There would be no invitations offered to the upstairs bedrooms. Or to the house, for that matter. The place was nice enough—and cheap enough—to make a comfortable home base while she was figuring out her next step in Rendezvous Falls. But she had no plans for entertaining guests. Especially the guest Piper was referring to. Now that a few days had passed, that wild kiss in the woods seemed more and more like a mistake. She’d been just as willing a participant as Owen had been, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea. It just made things more confusing, and she was confused enough these days.
She told Piper she’d take the house, and Piper gave a little squeal of happiness.
“We’ll be neighbors!”
Piper went downstairs to call the home’s owners as Lucy continued to explore. The house would save her some money, and would also give her some distance from Owen. Less temptation. Having her own place to escape to would help set boundaries. And that’s just what she needed.
The truth was, she thought about Owen all the time. She looked forward to seeing him, which was a mistake. His time in Rendezvous Falls was almost up. And she wasn’t going to go home with him. It wasn’t fair to let him think she might. So...a little distance was good for both of them.
FOUR DAYS LATER, she was moved in. It wasn’t like it took much effort—just bundle up her clothes and walk down the sidewalk and into the sunny yellow house. The middle Sister. With all the curtains and shades opened, the place had less of a funeral home vibe in the daylight. The cooking supplies, dishes and glasses were a mismatched hodgepodge, but she’d never been one to care about that stuff anyway. The owners promised the Realtor would provide twenty-four-hours’ notice if a potential buyer wanted to come through, and she’d have at least thirty days to vacate if it sold. They were happy the place wasn’t sitting empty, and she had a haven all to herself. It was a win-win.
Telling Owen the day before hadn’t been easy. It’s not like she needed his permission, but she knew he might read a dozen different things into her moving into an entire house here in Rendezvous Falls. It was a big step...in the opposite direction of where Owen wanted her to go. He’d taken it well after his initial surprise. He’d simply blinked a few times, and repeated the words “a house?” a few times, then he’d shrugged, as if trying to appear casual about it. And failing.
“If that’s what you want, then I support your decision.”
That felt odd, coming from him. She’d appreciated the sentiment, but the sentence seemed rehearsed or something. Almost robotic, and definitely said without enthusiasm. Or sincerity. But he hadn’t said anymore about it. In fact, he’d offered to help her move, but she’d declined as gently as possible. She didn’t want him getting the wrong idea about them. She didn’t want to risk lowering her defenses. It would only hurt them both to start something, then have him leave.
Then he’d surprised her by taking her hand in his. “I called a VA clinic not too far from here. I’m going to try a group thing...talking...with guys who’ve seen what I’ve seen. Like you suggested. See? I’m listening. I’m trying.”
She’d pulled her hand back, but not before giving his fingers a tender squeeze. He’d called the VA. He was trying. She’d almost kissed him right then. The man still owned a big part of her heart. Hell...he owned all of it.
“I’m really glad to hear that. But I still need to figure me out before I figure us out. Does that make sense?”
He’d agreed, reluctantly. He’d made sure she knew she could call him if she needed anything repaired at the house, but she reminded him she had a landlord for that. He’d watched from the porch of the Taggart Inn when she’d started her yellow Volkswagen and pulled out of her parking spot with a wave to drive a few hundred feet to the yellow house that was waiting for her.
She put a pot of water on the stove. That was another advantage of living somewhere other than a bed-and-breakfast. She could cook her own food. Well...she glanced at the jar of prepared pasta sauce on the counter. She could heat up her own food, at least. Cooking had never been her strong suit, although Grandma had tried her best to teach her. Lucy was better at baking things than cooking meals. And even then, it was hit or miss. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She poured the pasta into the boiling water and grabbed it. Mom.
She’d reached a tentative truce with her father, who’d repeatedly reassured Lucy that he was doing just fine, but Mom had been much more challenging. One day she’d call trying to play loving mother and friend, and then the next she’d be accusing Lucy of being childish for “overreacting” and leaving. She could have let the call go to voice mail. But if she was really going to embrace this new and improved Lucy, she had to start facing challenges instead of running from them. She grabbed the phone just before the third ringtone ended.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, sweetie!” Maybe today would be a good call. Mom’s voice was all singsong and cheery. “Kris told me you rented a house there in New York. She says you’re staying there for good, but I told her that was ridiculous. First, you’d have told me something like that. And second, you’d never go Yankee on us...right?”
Or maybe it wouldn’t be such a great call after all.
“Mom, I tried to tell you about the house the other day, but you hung up on me, remember?”
There was a pause. “I didn’t hang up on you. I said goodbye first, so it wasn’t a hangup. You were just asking so many questions about Jeff, and I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Lucy sighed, stirring the pasta. “You don’t want to talk about the guy you left my father for? A couple weeks ago you couldn’t wait to talk about the guy.”
“He’s part of my life, but I know that upsets you, Lucy. But don’t worry, your dad and I are being very civil about everything.”
“Mom, I love you both, and I’m doing my best to keep my distance, but God, you’re leaving Dad for another man. So yeah... I have questions.” She put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter while she searched for the colander she knew she’d seen somewhere. Ah, there it was. She set it in the sink and took the pot off the stove, speaking louder so her mother would hear her. “And yes, I rented a house. I’m cooking myself dinner in it right now. And yes, I might just become a Yankee on you, Momma. Because what y’all got going on down there is more than I can handle right now.”
She leaned away from the steam rising from the water she’d poured out.
“Lucy Higgins, you can handle more than you think. You’ve always been stronger than me.” Mom’s voice softened. “This isn’t a conversation for a phone call. Come home and talk to me in person.” Another pause. “Honey, I miss having you around to talk to. Come home and we’ll sit on my little balcony and drink wine together.”
“Your little balcony?”
“Oh...uh...yeah. I have an apartment now.”
Kris had told her their mother was going to leave the house—and their father—to move into an apartment. With her lover.
“You mean...we have an apartment. You’re with Jeff, right?”
“Yes.”
She poured the pasta back in the pan and added the sauce she’d heated in the microwave. She scooped some into a bowl, taking phone and bowl to the little kitchen table.
“Mom, I’m just sitting down to eat...”
“It sounds like I’m not the only one setting up house with someone. I saw Vivian Locke yesterday at the grocery store.” Vivian was Owen’s aunt. Her daughter, Kelli, had been one of her bridesmaids. Lucy barely knew either of the women. It had been Faye Cooper who’d insisted on Kelli being in the wedding. Her mother went on. “She told me Owen still hasn’t come home. His mother is having an absolute fit about it. Is he still in New York? Is that why you bought a house?”
“I didn’t buy a house, I’m renting it. And Owen has nothing to do with it. He sure as hell isn’t living here.”
“He left New York? Where’d he go?”
“He’s still in town. I agreed to give him a month, but it’s almost up. And when it is, he’ll be back in Greensboro, running the family business.” She thought that was what she wanted. But it made her feel unexpectedly sad.
“Is that man still trying to win your heart? And you haven’t caved yet? Not even a little?” Lucy thought of that wild kiss in the woods.
“Not even a little.” Liar. “Mom, my dinner’s getting cold.”
Another pause.
“If you’re tempted...even just a little...to love Owen...” Her mother’s voice cracked. “Don’t let him get away. A chance at happiness...”
“Are you saying you were never happy with Dad? With us?”
“Oh, honey. Of course I was. I love you and Kris with all my heart—you’re my world.”
“And Dad?”
Silence. Then her mother let out a sigh big enough to sound like a gust of wind across the phone.
“We were...friends...when we married. High school sweethearts, but not the kind where we got all starry-eyed and knew we were soul mates. We were pals. We hung out in the same circles. I was a cheerleader. He played football. It made sense for us to date each other, and everyone seemed to expect it. We were homecoming king and queen. So... we got married after we graduated. And we started a family together. We made a life. We had some fun.” Lucy knew the story, of course, but had always viewed it through rosier glasses than what her mother was describing.
“You never loved him?” She pushed the bowl of pasta away, no longer hungry.
“I... I loved him, but not that Hollywood movie sort of love, you know? I cared about him. He was a terrific guy. He is a terrific guy. It sounds cliché but we just grew apart. We were roommates more than lovers, and that’s not a good thing for a marriage. But we had you girls and we both loved you and wanted the best for you. Always.”
“And then Krissie got sick.”
“That was hard. We were a gret team, so it brought us together that way. But your dad and I became...business partners. We managed the business of Kris’s treatment and recovery, and we never bothered to break out of that setup once she was better. Whatever personal connection we’d had between us had disappeared. We resented each other. We started living separate lives. Your dad played poker with the guys, and I... I started talking to Jeff at work, and then over coffee, and then over dinner. He was someone to talk to, and your father wasn’t there for me.” She rushed over her next words, as if she knew Lucy was about to have something to say about it. “And it wasn’t your father’s fault. But...it wasn’t all mine, either.” She hesitated. “We should have divorced years ago. We knew it was over, but we stayed together because it was easier. For you girls. And for us, because we didn’t have to deal with the logistics of selling the house and making new starts. We were lazy, I guess. Cowardly. But none of it was malicious.”
Her father kept insisting the same thing when he called. He didn’t hate her mother. He even understood why she’d found someone else. In fact, Dad had found a new...friend, too. As much as it stung as a daughter, her parents had a right to be happy.
“I know you heard us arguing,” her mom continued, “but honestly...that didn’t happen very often. The wedding had everyone on edge, and we were confronting the finality of a thirty-five-year marriage in the middle of it all, and we just...snapped. What you clearly didn’t hear was that we apologized to each other a few minutes later. You father and I don’t hate each other. We just don’t love each other, and we deserve a chance to be loved by someone. Your father deserves that as much as I do. And you deserve it, too.”
“Mom...” Lucy was surprised to feel damp tears on her cheeks. She’d been clinging to her anger at her parents so tightly that she’d never taken the time to see them as people who wanted...who deserved...to be loved.
“I’m just going to say one more thing before I go.” Mom sounded as if she was crying, too. “If I’d taken off on your father before our wedding day, he would not have chased me across the country to bring me home. If Owen is sincere in wanting you—so much so that he’s defied his family and stayed away from his job for almost a month now—then you have to at least think about your feelings for him. If you don’t love him anymore, fine. But if you’re punishing him for the mistakes your father and I made, or what Owen’s mother did to your wedding, or for whatever Owen went through in the military...” A pause. “Try to see things clearly before you do something you’ll regret. You’ve always been a puzzle to me. Equally responsible and impulsive. Don’t let your impulsive side push away the love of your life.”
“But what if he wants me to go to Greensboro to be his partner in life, like you and dad? Or what if he gives up his parents’ plans for him and then ends up regretting it? Resenting me?”
“Well, that’s what you need to figure out. But you can’t figure anything out if you’re not letting the man in.”