LUCY KNEW OWEN was going to be at Falls Legend Winery for lunch. Piper had asked her the night before if it was okay with her. As if he needed Lucy’s permission. But at least she was prepared to see him. Or so she thought.
She’d driven her “new” car up the hill to the winery, picking up Piper’s friend Chantese on the way. Chantese loved Buttercup, and Lucy had to admit it was a really sweet ride now. She was pretty sure the old version of Buttercup would never have been able to climb this hill. Owen hadn’t been that far off when he’d called it a deathtrap.
Evie Hudson and her husband, Mark, were stacking white boxes on a table just outside the tasting room and wine store. Each box was wrapped with a wide burgundy ribbon tied into a bow.
“The winery store is a miniature of the house!” Lucy hadn’t been up here before, and she was instantly charmed. The house—a Victorian like everything else in Rendezvous Falls—was painted in a cheery combination of green, ivory and dark red. A round tower graced one corner, and a wide porch wrapped around the house, with hanging baskets of red and white geraniums. The two-story wine shop was across the gravel parking lot from the house, and looked like a mirror reflection—same tower, same colors, same flowers on the porch. Just smaller. Chantese nodded, the beads in her tiny braids clicking together softly.
“Helen Russo’s late husband converted the old carriage house into their wine shop ages ago.” They got out of the car in front of the store. “Whitney’s accounting office is upstairs.”
“Do they live here with Helen?” She’d met Helen Russo at the flower shop last week when she came in looking for a centerpiece for a book club meeting she was hosting. Helen had tried to convince Connie to go, but she’d refused. Helen struck her as a kind soul with a warm smile.
“Yes,” Chantese answered. “I’m sorry, I forget that you’re not a local. Helen is Whitney’s aunt. She has a downstairs suite and Luke and Whitney have the upstairs. Of course, they had to convert one room into a nursery for their new baby, Anthony. But that house is plenty big enough for everyone. Oh, there’s Whitney up in the vineyard...” Chantese laughed. “And she’s got that baby strapped to her chest. I’m beginning to think she never puts the kid down.”
The rows of vines marched up the hill like rungs of a ladder, thick with wide leaves and enormous bunches of grapes. She could see people moving back and forth in the rows. One by one, colorful picnic table umbrellas popped open. From what she understood, the idea was to have a “Lunch in the Vineyard” event one day a month in the nice weather. Customers could purchase a boxed lunch and dine outside. They’d found a company that sold plastic wineglasses with snap on covers, so customers could try a small serving of Falls Legend wine with their lunch. For nondrinkers and children, they had glasses filled with white grape juice.
There was a soft breeze blowing, and Lucy had to hold her hair back from covering her face completely. The view from the winery was beautiful, looking down the hill where Seneca Lake could be seen shining bright blue beyond the trees, stretching north to south in the narrow valley. A few more cars pulled in and parked. Helen Russo was greeting people as they arrived.
Logan Taggart’s large SUV came up the driveway, parking next to Buttercup and dwarfing it. Chantese laughed at the sight, saying Logan had originally arrived in Rendezvous Falls on a motorcycle, which wasn’t exactly practical as a family or work vehicle. She said he still had the bike for fun, but had purchased the SUV last summer as his everyday transportation.
Logan gave the women a quick wave as he hopped out to help Lily escape her booster seat in the back. Piper stepped out on the other side, with Owen doing the same from the back seat. He was talking with teenage Ethan about some baseball game. The two walked over to Luke and Mark in front of the tasting room, and soon the men were all animatedly talking about sports. Owen was in dark shorts, canvas sneakers and a green polo shirt that had a logo she recognized from the Purple Shamrock. He clearly hadn’t packed for a month-long stay, and had been adding to his wardrobe around town. He draped his arm over Ethan’s shoulders and said something to the boy that made him burst out laughing. She couldn’t help smiling. Owen was beginning to relax...and smile...again. She was beginning to see more of the man she’d fallen in love with.
“Lucy! Chantese!” Lily ran over to clasp them each in one of her precious bear hugs. “I didn’t know you were coming, Miss Lucy! Why didn’t you ride with us? Lift me up!”
Lucy did as commanded, propping Lily on her hip with a groan. “Whoa, I think you’re getting too big for this, kiddo. And your car looked pretty full. That’s why I picked up Miss Chantese and met you here.” Plus she didn’t trust herself being scrunched tight next to Owen in the backseat. “Are you excited about lunch?”
“Yes! It’s a picnic and I get to drink wine from grapes.”
“No, you don’t.” Piper joined them. “You get to drink grape juice from a wineglass. Not the same thing. Get down before you break Miss Lucy’s hip, you horse.” Lily wriggled and Lucy leaned over so the girl could dash off to greet everyone else. Piper sighed. “I swear if I had half her energy I could rule the world.”
Another car pulled in, and several of the book club members got out. Cecile was there, along with Rick Thomas and Vickie Pendergast. A tall, elegant Black woman was the last to emerge, talking rapidly on her phone.
“I don’t care when the client wants the pottery, I’m telling you I can’t complete the pottery until next week.” Her lips thinned in annoyance. “Remind the client that I’m not the one who kept making change after change to the order. This is why I don’t like commissioned work. It’s not art, it’s just aggravation.” She ended the call and slid the phone in her pocket, looking up to catch Lucy’s eye. “Sorry. I swear I love everything about my business except the people I have to deal with.” Her expression softened. “You’re Lucy, right? I’m Lena Fox. I know Connie at the flower shop from way back. I’ve heard all about the Runaway Bride of Rendezvous Falls.”
Gold and silver bangles slid up and down her arm musically as she moved, contrasting against her dark skin. There were rings on her fingers and thumbs, and huge hoop earrings dangled from her ears. A long cotton skirt with bright tribal designs swirled around her legs.
Piper visibly cringed at Lena’s title for Lucy, but Lucy didn’t mind. It hadn’t been said meanly, but more as a matter of fact. And she could hardly argue—she was a runaway bride. One whose jilted fiancé had followed her all the way to Rendezvous Falls. She imagined she and Owen were probably the talk of the town by now.
“Nice to meet you, Lena.” She shook the older woman’s hand.
Before Lena could say more, Whitney Rutledge clapped her hands, standing near the lunch table. Tall and willowy, with dark hair cut into a shoulder-length bob that was tucked behind her ears, she called out to get everyone’s attention. Her infant son, sound asleep in the carrier in front of her, didn’t flinch.
“Okay, everyone, it’s time to do this!” Whitney said, gesturing toward the box lunches. “Thank you for being part of our trial run for Lunch in the Vineyard. We want to make sure this will work the way we intended, and that it will be something people will enjoy. You have a choice of lunch between roast beef sandwiches with horseradish or turkey sandwiches with cranberry mayonnaise. Each box also has chips, a small bottle of water and one of my aunt’s famous homemade cookies. For vegetarians, there are some boxes with large salads and no sandwiches.” She took a deep breath, glancing over at Evie with a wink. “Today’s lunches are provided by the Spot Diner. Luke will give you a choice of red or white wines—today’s picks are chardonnay or pinot noir. Once you have your lunches, you can walk up to the vineyard and find a table and chairs to enjoy your meal right among the grapes.” She held up a finger. “But please...no touching of the grapevines. That’s our livelihood, and for today they are for atmosphere only.”
Luke Rutledge nodded behind her. “I’ll second that. My biggest concern with this whole idea is that someone will get handsy with the vines, but we’ll be wandering around keeping an eye on things. We really want to know what you guys think of this, so don’t be shy about telling us what works and what doesn’t. The larger tables are up the center, off to the sides and in the wider swaths between grape varieties. But there are more intimate tables located in some rows, with room for just two if that’s what you want.” He cleared his throat. “So without further delay, please come up and select a lunch and a beverage.”
Lucy fell into line with Chantese and Piper, but as people headed up the hill, families and couples started breaking into groups. The Taggarts, with Chantese joining them, filled a table on their own. Lucy waved off Piper’s invitation and turned to see if there was another group she could join. Maybe the book club? She sensed someone behind her and turned to find Owen. He held up his box with a tentative smile.
“Join me for lunch?”
The temptation to say yes surprised her, but she caught herself.
“Bad idea, Owen.”
“It’s only lunch, Luce. In broad daylight. With people all around us.”
“I know that, but I’m worried you don’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you getting your hopes up that things are going to change.”
The lines around his eyes tightened a notch, as if she’d stung him. She gave a heavy sigh.
“You see? That’s what I mean!”
“What?” He straightened.
“That kicked-puppy expression of yours just now. I don’t want to be the bad guy. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have...”
“Hey...” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not the bad guy. You never were.” He started walking up the hill. There didn’t seem to be anyone else dining this high up in the vineyard. He looked over his shoulder to make sure she was following. “We both did our share of causing pain, and I think we’ve agreed neither of us intended to do that, right?”
“Right.” He turned between two rows of grapevines, toward a tiny table with two chairs. There was no umbrella over it, so you’d never know it was there unless...she narrowed her eyes at his back. “You set this up, didn’t you? This table, way far away from anyone else. Owen...”
She stopped, but he kept walking, setting his lunch and wine on the table, then taking hers from her hands and doing the same. He held out the closer chair and looked at her expectantly.
“Set up isn’t the right word,” he answered. “They did say we might find tables for two up here.” He glanced at the chair, then back to her. “It’s still just lunch. In broad daylight. With our friends nearby.
“If you want to go sit with the Taggarts or someone, that’s fine. I get it. I just thought this would give us a chance to talk more. AS friends.” He paused. “Please.”
Lucy stared at the table, then gave in and sat down. He was right—it’s not like he’d invited her to join him for some private, romantic candlelit dinner or anything like that. It was a boxed lunch and wine. Outdoors. He moved to the other side of the table and sat. The grape leaves on the vines brushed his shoulders. He looked from side to side and grinned.
“This reminds me of those old TV shows I used to watch where the stars always ended up stuck in a room with mechanized walls that closed in on them and threatened to crush them.”
She laughed. “Right? And they’d stop the walls with a chair or something silly so they could miraculously escape. Everything was easy in those old shows. All problems solved in sixty minutes or less.” She’d opened her box as she talked, pulling out her turkey sandwich and unwrapping it. She folded the paper napkin on her lap, then looked up when she realized Owen hadn’t spoken.
He was staring at her, his smile gone.
“What is it?”
“I wish our problems could be solved that easily.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No sad puppy eyes, remember? We’re friends, and friends don’t play the guilt card over lunch.”
He straightened with a nod. “You’re right. Sorry.” He uncovered both wineglasses and handed her chardonnay to her. He lifted his pinot for a toast. “Here’s to friendship.” They clinked their glasses together. “But don’t hate your friend for hoping for more.”
“Owen...”
“I know, I know.” He held up his hand. I promise I’m not going to try to convince you of anything today. I’m just saying... He leaned forward. “Tell me the door is still open, even if just a little bit.”
He was so earnest that she found herself starting to believe in this hope he was clinging to. Maybe whatever she needed to leave behind didn’t include Owen? But he had a job waiting for him at home.
“Let’s just say the door isn’t locked.” Her words surprised her as much as it did him. “It may not even be latched. But it’s not open by much, so please...”
He sat back, his eyes warm and...slightly eager. She could tell he was trying to stay cool. He finally smiled. “Say no more. Let’s eat. As friends. Tell me how the flower shop is doing. Are you having as much fun there as it looks?”
A soft breeze ruffled through the vines, making the leaves roll like a stadium crowd doing the wave in a stadium. Owen seemed genuinely interested, and she relaxed at last.
“I am. I mean...you know I love working with flowers, so that’s a natural fit. But it’s been fun trying to drag Connie kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. She fusses a lot, but she’s actually more open to change than I would have thought. She’s letting me build her a new website and...”
They both took a bite of their sandwiches, and moaned in unison at the flavor. She told him about the small wedding coming up that weekend, where the bride and groom didn’t agree on anything, including the flowers. The original order was pretty basic, probably because that’s all Connie wanted to offer. In the prewedding consult, Lucy noticed the disappointment in the couple’s eyes. She’d suggested a few changes. Adding her favorite hydrangeas to the bride’s bouquet for dimension, and putting the bright orange lilies the groom wanted—what was it with upstate New York and orange?—in the centerpieces instead of the bridal bouquets. They’d left the appointment with smiles, and even Connie had approved, telling her she’d handled it well.
Owen chuckled. “That’s high praise from Connie. She’s not easily impressed. Don’t you find her a little prickly to work with?”
She thought for a moment, not wanting to mention Connie’s physical challenges. “I think she’s had a lot to deal with since her husband left. Then the pandemic hit her business hard—she lost dozens of wedding orders last year. Stress hits everyone differently...”
“Then add dealing with Parkinson’s.”
Lucy looked up from her sandwich in surprise. “She told you that?”
His mouth slanted into a grin. “No, you did. Just now. But I was pretty sure that’s why her hand trembles so much. Plus she told me she’d moved her bedroom downstairs at her house, and she’s not that old that she shouldn’t be able to go up and down stairs.” He took a sip of his wine and grimaced. He’d always been more of a beer guy. “My uncle had it, remember? He was younger than Connie when it started, but the tremor was the same.”
“I know Connie can be...prickly.” She reached over and rescued the wine from Owen. He opened his water instead. “But I think her temper is a coping mechanism.”
“Can’t help with winning over customers, though.”
They both smiled over that undeniable fact.
“No, but I’m hoping I can help her with that.”
He finished his sandwich and unwrapped the cookie.
“Sounds like you plan on being here awhile.” He’d said it calmly, but she could feel the tension right below the surface of his words.
“Maybe. I honestly don’t know.”
Staying in Rendezvous Falls as a part-time florist didn’t seem like a very practical career plan. And yet...it was tempting for some reason. Owen had the cookie almost to his mouth, but he lowered it without taking a bite.
“You...you’re really thinking of staying?”
She didn’t answer right away. Laughter rose up from the other tables on the slope below. It seemed the trial run was a success. She wondered if there was a way to get the flower shop involved. Tiny floral bundles for the ladies to take with them? It would be a good promotion for the shop. She bit into her white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie. If she was thinking of the future of Rendezvous Blooms, she was thinking of her future, too.
“Like I keep telling you, Owen, I don’t know.” Was it fantasy to think she might want both him and a life in Rendezvous Falls? He frowned, then his face smoothed. His smile seemed just a little bit forced. “I’m just saying...there are flowers in Greensboro, too.”
Not according to your mother... Lucy had tried to convince Ed and Faye to let her have just a corner of the nursery for loose flower arrangements, but Faye always had some excuse not to do it.
“Hey, you two!” Whitney Rutledge walked down the row toward them. Her son had woken, and she had him resting on her hip. His chubby hands were playing in her hair, and she winced as he tugged on a strand. “Easy there, tiger.” She peeked into their empty boxes. “Looks like you enjoyed your lunches. What do you think of our little experiment?”
Lucy stood. She was suddenly feeling restless...pressured by her own conflicted feelings about staying or going, not to mention Owen’s obvious opinions about it. She finished off the last of Owen’s wine—hers was long gone—then turned to Whitney with a bright smile.
“The lunch was great, and if you can guarantee weather like this, people will really enjoy dining in the vineyard. I think it’s a great plan.”
Owen also stood, gathering their boxes and glasses into a stack. “I agree. It was a very nice lunch.”
Whitney looked back and forth between them, and Lucy had a feeling more Rendezvous Falls meddling was on its way.
“Did you think it was a romantic lunch?”
Owen answered before Lucy could. “Absolutely.”
Lucy shot him a warning look. “It definitely could be. Our lunch was...friendly. Pleasant.”
“Ouch.” Whitney chuckled, looking at Owen. “Pleasant? What did you do to earn such an underwhelming description?”
“That was sort of harsh.” He grinned. “But we are just friends...for now.”
Lucy was beginning to wonder if they’d ever been just friends. They had a history. And a chemistry. Even now, after everything that had happened, Owen’s smile had the power to send a rush of heat through her. Reminding her why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place.