PULLO

With Max Skinner’s return, I felt sure all our plans were blessed by the gods. He purchased the adjoining land and we moved ahead with primary cultivation straight away. This morning at breakfast in our ratty old kitchen, Max had several ideas to share.

“I suspect it’s best to tier the south rise even though it’s not an extremely severe grade. Anything we can do to hold water and nutrients to the new vines will serve best. No, no Valerie. No more eggs love. Now,” he glanced around the room. “What are your plans with this house, Pullo?”

I shrugged. “I thought about tearing it down and starting over –”

“Brilliant,” he interrupted. “No more bacon, Valerie. Will you rebuild on the same foundation?”

“Ah … no, I’ve decided to renovate. But an addition is called for so that you can be comfortable, my friend.”

Skinner choked on coffee and held his hand out to prevent Valerie from topping off the cup. “Here? Oh, no, no, no. That’s completely unnecessary. I’ll be fine, stay at the Inn, perhaps rent something in town until my own house is built.”

“But Maxi,” squealed my daughter and I leaned back to watch. Perhaps I’d been blind, but Valerie had certainly taken a liking to Skinner. More than a liking? “You can’t leave,” her lower lip trembled. “I’ll make your bed every day and fix breakfast. I can put flowers in your room too, just like at the Inn. Don’t leave.”

Skinner avoided my eyes but I could see the growing agitation in his tightening jaw. He cleared his throat and spoke kindly through clenched teeth. “Now, now little love. You have your father to take care of and school will be starting soon, correct? All your focus should be on your studies … certainly not me. Now, what time is Mr. Boyer to arrive? The sooner I speak with him, the sooner I’ll be able to get myself settled, then.”

I feared my little girl would cry but she held strong, slipping another slice of bacon onto Skinner’s plate while he wasn’t looking, shooting a guilty glance my way.

When Kevin Boyer arrived there were even more ideas flowing from Skinner’s fertile mind. They spoke of building his new house at the far ridge of the property which again nearly brought Valerie to tears.

“Can’t even start on it until spring, Mr. Skinner. First the Aubrey house needs to be detailed, then the Inn addition has to be completed before the first snow. Of course, the winery begins soon, too. I’m pretty booked up but … if you like I can recommend another contractor.” Kevin smiled kindly at Valerie as she poured him coffee.

“No, I’ll wait Mr. Boyer. I’ll always wait for the best. Have you any suggestions for a comfortable abode until I have a permanent home?”

Kevin thought then grinned. “I understand there’s a nice place for rent less than a mile from here. Single family dwelling, nicely renovated, I know, did the job myself.” He handed over a business card that quickly disappeared into Max’s breast pocket. “Call the realtor; she’ll let you take a look.”

Finally the conversation moved to the needs of the winery. Kevin reported that all the materials were set to arrive within the week and construction would begin on August thirtieth. Three short weeks and it would all start.

“When will it be done?” I anxiously asked.

“The structure,” he shrugged, “simple, easy, by the end of September, plumbed and ready for the vats. Those are due here September fourth. After we install and inspect it all, we can close the final walls and you can start making wine,” he grinned. “But, about that proposal you e-mailed me Mr. Skinner?”

“Yes, yes. Sterling idea, isn’t it?” Skinner beamed and I blinked, unaware of a new proposal or additional construction.

“It’s a great idea, it’s just gonna take a while to do. You’re requesting a complete recreation of a Victorian house and that takes craftsmen hours. I need to cost it out.”

“Cost be damned. Just go with it, Mr. Boyer.”

I looked at him then Kevin and finally growled. “What are you talking about?”

“A showroom, my good man,” Skinner stood and opened his arms. “A beautiful facility to draw in the public, a place to sell our goods, conduct tours through the winery, take reservations for elegant wine tasting and wine pairing parties.”

I blinked. “And why would we need such a place?”

SKINNER

“Promotion, my man!” I laughed imagining millions being made, amazed that the bloke couldn’t see all that money dancing like sugar plums around my head. “Pullo, as I see it, it’s your job to take care of the vines and the vats … it’s my job to make sure the wine sells.”

Valerie had begun washing dishes in the sink, gratefully no longer adding her two cents into everything we were discussing.

“I suppose you’re right,” Pullo shrugged.

“In the morning I’m off to tour New York wineries, then a few first meetings with distributors,” I proudly announced.

“What are you gonna call this vineyard?” Boyer asked and I looked to Pullo whose brow had climbed to his hairline. Why hadn’t we thought about that?

I cleared my throat. “I think perhaps something simple. Vermont Fine Vineyards?”

Boyer shook his head. “Wouldn’t use Vermont in the name. Folks will think you’re selling maple syrup.”

“Ah,” I sat and scratched my temple, pulled off my glasses and sipped coffee. “Bloody hell, can’t have that.”

“Vesuvius Wines?” Pullo suggested and I wrinkled my nose.

Valerie set the last cleaned plate in the rack and turned, drying her hands on the dishtowel. “Fox and Hound Winery,” she said and we all looked at her. She shrugged like her father. “It was just an idea. I’m going to go make the beds.”

“Fox and Hound Winery,” Boyer said. “Not bad.”

“It’s a good name,” grinned Pullo.

“I must agree. I like the sound of it. Fox and Hound Winery. Brilliant.” I looked to the doorway where Valerie had left. “She is a … precocious little dear, now isn’t she?”

Boyer chuckled and stood, gathered notes and loaded his briefcase. “She has a crush on you, Mr. Skinner.”

“What?” I gasped. “She’s just a child, you must be mistaken.”

“Nope. A full blown crush. Big time,” he shook my hand and turned to leave. “Good luck with that.” And he laughed all the way to his car.

The morning’s appointments behind me, I tugged on a pair of rubber boots and a flannel shirt and headed off to the new acreage. There was a large thicket of twigs and burrs there I wanted to clean up before the men arrived next week to till the soil.

Manual labor has its benefits, one of which had grown to be my favorite. I worked much of my Canadian vineyard and found that the hours flew by; clearing my head of confusion and worry and bringing a peace that accompanied mildly aching muscles.

As I lifted a large bundle of long twigs, I turned just to hear a frightened squeal. I never heard her come up behind me, had no idea she was so close. Poor Valerie had lost her balance and dropped to her behind on the dirt, a scratch across her cheek and surely skinned elbows in the fall. I tossed the bundle aside and knelt at her side.

“Are you alright?”

“Um, um,” she bravely tried to brush herself off, but discovered the blood on her face and gasped.

“Hush, hush, now, let’s take a look,” pulling my handkerchief I caught the drip of blood and cleaned dirt away. I looked at her elbows and indeed they too were bloodied. “There, there, it’s not so bad. I am sorry, little one. I had no idea you were back there. What are you doing, anyway?”

“I wanted to help,” she hissed as she eyed the scrapes.

“Valerie, you don’t have to help with everything, you know.” I sat at her side and thought a moment. “You know,” I leaned close and whispered. “My parents died when I was very young too.”

“Oh? I’m sorry for you.”

“So,” I nodded. “I do know what it’s like, but you have Pullo to love and take care of you. I had my Uncle Henry, although I only saw him during school holidays.”

“Did you feel like you had to do everything super good too?”

I blinked, suddenly gaining insight into this child. “Is that why you do everything around the house, Valerie?”

“Yes. Sometimes … sometimes I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

Another Pullo shrug. “I dunno. I’m afraid I didn’t have my mom long enough to learn how to grow up to be a mom, to be a wife.” She looked off into the distance.

“Was she a good mother?”

“Oh yes, the best! But … when she … left … I really felt bad, you know. Like I never tried hard enough at anything to make her see I’d be okay, like I never gave her any reasons to be proud of me. I want to be the best at everything, Maxi. I want Daddy to know I’m trying to be the best at school, and ice skating, and taking care of the house.”

I was gawking. I had never expected this from Valerie. I was operating under the delusion that she was out to drive me over the edge. I had no idea. “That’s why you do everything around the house.”

She nodded. “Is that bad?”

“Well, yes. Valerie Pullo, you’re just a little girl. You should enjoy being a little girl because being a grown up comes fast enough and there’s no way back. Trust me on that. You don’t have to clean the dishes and do the laundry and make the beds. Your father and I are grown men; we know how to take care of ourselves. You,” I pointed to her little nose. “You, young lady … concentrate on your studies. You do that as well as possible and you’ll be able to do anything you want when you’re grown up.”

“I want to be a vintner.”

“That’s good. You study your chemistry and you watch your father because he can teach you a lot.”

She nodded and gingerly touched her face. “What if no one asks me to the dance?”

“Pardon?” What the bloody hell was she talking about?

“The dance. At school, they have a dance the very first weekend. No one ever asks me. What if no one asks me again? Do you think I’m not pretty enough?”

I leaned back on my elbows and looked at her. Such a plain little girl but there was a spark there. I grinned. “Valerie, I think you are at the verge of blooming into a beautiful young woman. Someone will ask you to the dance. I’m sure of it, but you listen to me … make sure he’s good enough for you, you understand?”

Finally she smiled. “You sound like my daddy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, up with you and off to wash those wounds. Be sure to use some antibiotic cream on them.” I stood and she scrambled to her feet. “Off with you, little one.”

She trotted a few steps then turned. “I love you Maxi.” And she ran to the house.

Good God, what have I done? I groaned and turned to the mess.

LACHLAN

“Why are we here, again?”

Jessie looked over at me and smiled. “Because you love me and will do anything I ask, regardless of how ridiculous or expensive it turns out to be.”

I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “Oh yeah. Just checking.”

The wedding was two weeks away, and we were meeting this morning with Riley and Chef Chris to go over the brunch menu and all the final planning. I didn’t think that I really needed to be there, but would never let Jessie know that. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy, but I end up getting a bit lost when she tries to discuss the numerous little details. Candied almonds, rice packets or birdseed, white roses or calla lilies, spinach bacon quiche or crepes Suzette?

Jessie slipped her hand over my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, edging in close as she leaned her head against my shoulder. She was wearing that perfume that I liked and her hair smelled like strawberries, of all things. I fought the urge to nuzzle the back of her neck to see if it smelled just as good. It was a good thing, too, because just then Riley and Chris appeared at the restaurant entrance. Riley’s eyes scanned the room and lit up like a beacon when she spotted us sitting off in the corner.

“There they are!” Her voice carried across the empty room, she grabbed Chris by the sleeve of his chef’s jacket and nodded her head in our direction. Chris smiled and let Riley lead the way as she zig-zagged a path to our table, her clipboard held close to her chest as if it were some sort of invincible shield. Chris towered over her, but he had to quicken his gait to keep up.

“Good morning, you two!” As quickly as she had been moving, she still wasn’t out of breath. Smiling at both of us, she turned to make sure that Chris was still right behind her. “How are both of you feeling?”

Chris caught up just then and held Riley’s chair out for her as she sat down beside me. After making sure that Riley was settled, he sat too.

“We’re both fine,” I answered.

Riley nodded her approval. “How’s the morning sickness, Jess?”

Jessie smiled. “It’s not as bad as it was the first few days, but I’m learning to deal with it.”

Chris gave me a knowing grin. He’s had plenty of experience dealing with morning sickness. He and his wife have two young daughters of their own. Riley introduced Chris to Jessie and then we got down to business. Actually, the three of them did most of the talking while I just sat back and listened, nodding my head and smiling every so often.

“I’d like it to be simple, yet elegant. My dress is a pale peach color and Lachlan’s suit is charcoal gray with a white silk shirt and a peach colored silk tie.” Jessie’s eyes burned with excitement as she described her plans. “I’ve spoken with Pullo and Valerie’s going to be our flower girl, she’ll wear a soft peach dress with a wreath of pink roses, carnations and baby’s breath for her hair and carry a small bouquet of the same.”

Riley leaned her chin in her hand and a dreamy look came over her face. “Oh, that sounds lovely. And Jeff Mitchell’s going to be the best man?”

She glanced over at me and I nodded.

“Who’s going to be your maid or matron of honor?”

Jess and I exchanged another glance and we both giggled. “Believe it or not, Jeff Mitchell.” I answered.

Chris laughed out loud and Riley grinned. “Does Jeff know?”

“At first he thought we were kidding when we asked, but he said that as long as he didn’t have to wear a dress, he’d be honored.” I grinned at the memory of that conversation and the expression on Mitchell’s face when he realized that we had been serious.

“He’s going to wear a suit similar to Lach’s, only with a tan tie,” Jessie added. “And John, of course, is going to give me away.”

I caught Riley’s eye. “Tell him that he’s gonna have to ditch the flannel for the morning.” I teased.

Riley laughed. “I promise he’ll be properly turned out for the occasion.” John’s love of soft comfortable clothing was legendary. “So are we settled on the menu?” She glanced between me and Jess before turning her attention back to her clipboard. “So we’ll have a total of fifty guests including the wedding party and I’ve made arrangements for the dining tent and Jess, you still wanted all the paper lanterns, right? Now, how about the wedding cake?”

Jessie reached into her purse and pulled out a picture she had torn out of a magazine and handed it to Chris. “I found this while I was at the OBGYN’s office the other day. It’s a simple layered carrot cake with cream cheese filling and fondant icing. Do you think you can come up with something similar to this? And I like the idea of sugared marzipan doves as the toppers instead of the traditional plastic bride and groom. The cake in that picture has pink and white icing roses, but I’d like pale peach and yellow, if possible.”

Chris examined the picture carefully and nodded. “Monica will have a field day with this. Three tiers sound okay? There’ll be enough for everyone.”

We sat and discussed the remaining details; who knew there was so much planning involved for a simple wedding? The invitations had been sent out two weeks earlier, and believe it or not, everyone had responded. Jessie’s mother was flying in from Boca Raton, and even my old flying mate Badger answered that he’d be attending. Unfortunately the only no shows would be Maximus, as Sophia was getting close to her due date, and Colin, who’d be racing.

The DJ was booked and the floral arrangements were confirmed. White netting over ivory was decided upon to hold the candied almond bundles (I’m still not sure what these were actually for, but Jessie assured me that it was a wedding tradition. Who am I to argue?) The song for our first dance would Unforgettable by Nat King Cole. The ceremony will start at 10AM and the celebration will continue into the afternoon. When Riley asked where we were going for our honeymoon, Jessie looked over at me to help explain.

“We’ve decided that for right now, we’re gonna concentrate on getting the house ready and preparing for the baby.” To be honest, I’d been doing so much traveling over the past several years that I just wanted to stay home and spend time with Jessie. I didn’t need to visit Hawaii again or even the Bahamas.

Luckily, Jessie shared my views on the matter. “I kind of like the idea of honeymooning in our own home. Really Riles, you and John have to come by soon and see the place. You too, Chris. There’s a huge yard for your girls to play in, once we have the landscaper come in and tear out all the overgrowth. Right now it looks a bit like a haunted forest, but it’s going to be beautiful when we’re finished.”

As most of the main subjects had been addressed, the four of us spent a few minutes talking about non-wedding related matters before Riley and Chris returned to more pressing Inn business. Chris pulled out his wallet and showed us the latest pictures of his wife and daughters, and Riley entertained us with Nathan’s latest exploit. I can hardly wait for our baby to arrive.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jessie grabbed my hand afterwards as we got into the car and headed back into town. “I thought Chris was going to fall off his chair laughing when we told him that Jeff was also going to be my maid of honor.”

“Well, Chris has a great sense of humor. I think he has to, working in the craziness of the kitchen. ” I raised her hand to my lips and kissed the inside of her palm.

“What’s that for?”

I grinned. “Just because.”

Only two more weeks to go.

NATALIE

“Ya know, Riles, I just went off the deep end.” Riley and Nathan were over for a play-date with the girls and we were sipping coffee at the kitchen table. I’d told her about Jack’s call, the added time at sea and my overreaction. “Poor Jack, just trying to say he missed me and here I am, going all ape-shit about the move.”

Riley reached over and patted my hand. “Just call him. He’ll understand.”

“I did, but they’d already sailed. The only way to reach him now is by email and I sent a message yesterday, but haven’t heard back. Now I’m all worried about this storm and if he’s okay.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. You know better than anyone how busy he can get, and if he’s running from a storm, there’s probably no time to answer emails.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I sighed. “But, I’d feel better if I heard from him.”

“He’ll write soon, I’m sure …” She was interrupted by a loud wail. Chelsea apparently decided Nathan’s head would be a perfect drum and began to beat out a rhythm. Riles and I never did get back to our discussion, and I’m sure Jack’s fine. But, I can’t seem to shake this feeling that something’s not right. I just hope he writes soon.

JOHN

It wasn’t easy but I pulled it all together. Our pub closes at one AM so we’d all meet there after the customers were gone. Mayor Williams and Sheriff Mike were the last to arrive and my only dilemma was Daisy, fussing at the bar and readying to lock up. Needless to say, she must have known we were all there to talk about the attack on Cory, so I didn’t expect her to leave anytime soon.

As she came over to pour coffee she looked around the table. Me, Cory and Wade. The mayor and the sheriff and Richie Roberts. We got suspiciously quiet when she came near.

“Jeeze, you guys look like you’re planning the Boston Tea Party over here,” she smiled real pretty and stepped back behind the bar; probably straining to hear every word we were saying.

Mike grinned. “So, you call this summit powwow because you guys have changed your mind about running?”

“Ah … no, no. Okay,” I said. “Mayor Joe Williams and Sheriff Mike, you know Ben and Cory and this … this is Richie Roberts,” I pointed to the far end of the table and he nodded. “He’s a lawyer and I figured we might want his opinion on all this.”

Cory took over, explaining everything he learned and everything he knew. Ben chimed in with his ideas on how to handle it all and Richie just shook his head.

“What?” I asked and Roberts cleared his throat.

“You know, the best way to handle this stuff is through the system. Cory’s asking for more trouble by continuing his investigation … and Ben, man, you’re just setting yourself up to get some serious hurtin’.”

Ben snorted and Richie raised his hand. “Look, I agree, there’s got to be some exposure done, but a man running for sheriff and a man running for mayor … fuck, you two gotta stay clean as a whistle. You both have to stay clear or you will get sucked into the scandal that’s sure to come.”

“What’s your suggestion?” Cory sighed then nudged his chin; Daisy was coming back with the coffee pot.

“Ah, John?” she said, topping off the mugs. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Can we do it later? Listen Daisy, Andy made a tray of sandwiches; they’re up in the big walk-in cooler. Can you get them for us?”

She rolled her eyes and stomped out of the pub.

“Your suggestion?” Cory picked up where we left off.

Richie shrugged. “Let me do the investigating. I got no investment here, no one’s gonna suspect me of anything. What they see now, after getting their hands on your notebook buddy … is that you,” he pointed to me, “and you,” another point at Ben, “are out to scam them somehow. People get ugly when they get that kind of suspicious.”

Daisy dropped the tray of sandwiches in the middle of the table and we all jumped. “Now can I talk to you John?”

I reached for the tray and popped off the plastic cover, passing the sandwiches around and avoiding her eyes. “Ah … how about more coffee?”

With her again away from the table Richie turned to Cory. “What was in your notebook?”

He grinned wide, loosened his vintage tie and sipped coffee. “Nothin’. Every time I took notes, I tore the page off and hid it. I hadn’t even started jotting down what I heard when they got me.”

“You hid it? Where?” I asked, mouth full of ham and cheese.

Cory shrugged. “In my boxer briefs.”

“You fuckin’ hid the notes in your underwear?” Mike laughed.

“Nobody was gonna search there,” Cory grinned.

“Did they wear boxer briefs in the 1950’s?” Daisy said, ominously standing right at my shoulder. I glared up. “Now can I talk to you?”

I decided to ignore her. “Later,” I turned to the men who weren’t taking their eyes from Daisy. Then she did something I sure as hell didn’t expect. She stepped up onto an empty chair then onto the table and began a sexy stripper dance. Hips swayed, hair whipped. Her leather vest was slowly unbuttoned then tossed aside revealing a lacy black bra, then she reached for the button at her jeans and I stood up.

“Daisy! What the fuck? God sakes!”

“Now can I talk to you?” she scowled and I nodded.

“Fine! What?”

“Someone was in here tonight asking about you. He asked me if I knew the owner and I acted dumb, told him I was new and hadn’t met him yet. Then I gave him a wink and asked him if he had some gossip for me. He said he just wanted to know if you really plan to run for mayor. Said I didn’t know. He finished his beer and left. No tip either.”
She stepped down to the floor and grabbed the coffee pot then shot me one of those ugly glares. I turned to Cory but he just shrugged.

“Alright, alright, alright. What did he look like?” I called to her.

Sheriff Mike leaned forward to listen to her description then groaned.

“Thanks, Daisy,” I dismissed her as calmly as I could.

“Mickey Slade. Damn.” Mike turned to Richie. “I think you might have the best idea, Roberts. You up for this kinda investigating?”

Richie grinned. “Used to be a detective. I can handle it.”

“Good, good,” Mike started but then we all turned to the bar where Daisy was wiping down the wood and talking quietly. “She talkin’ to herself?”

Cory rubbed his temples. “She’s so fuckin’ mad at me. Yeah, she’s probably rehearsing our upcoming fight. Never mind, go on Sheriff.”

“Right, uh … I’ll arrange some protection for you and John and Ben. In the meantime, I’ll start keeping a closer eye on Frank Water and Slade. Anything else you can think of, Mayor?”

The old man shook his head. “Who’da ever thunk this would happen? So they thought I was a pushover and Ben Wade could be manipulated?”

Ben grunted.

The mayor sighed. “You and John just move ahead with your campaigns. Mr. Roberts, keep me abreast of everything you find, and Cory … just keep your nose clean, steer clear of Slade and Water … and good luck with your girlfriend … although she sure is a good little table dancer.”

“Hey,” Cory hissed and we broke up the meeting.

I collected cups from the table and covered the remaining sandwiches. Daisy had just turned to lock up the liquor closet. “I’m sorry,” I said, leaning over the bar to drop the mugs into the sink of soapy water.

Daisy grunted. “Told you I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah, and I said I’m sorry.”

She turned and smiled then blinked. “Where did he go?”

“Who?” Cory asked, slipping behind the bar to hand her the discarded leather vest.

“Brian. He was sitting here. I was talking to him. He must be a guest at the Inn, he’s always in here. Where the hell did he go?”

“Brian?” I curled my brows. “We have no guest named Brian.”

“Shit,” Daisy hissed and looked around. “He just disappeared. I swear I was talking to him one second ago.”

“You were talkin’ to yourself, Doll. There was no one here at the bar.” Cory pushed the vest onto her arms and buttoned it to cover the black lace. “You tired or something, Daisy?”

“No!”

“Maybe you need some sleep,” I suggested.

“What the hell is it with you people?” she was exasperated. “Last night Wade sends me to bed, tonight it’s you? Sheesh!” She tossed her towel and left the bar.

“Who’s Brian, and why was he talking to my woman while she was half naked?” Cory asked.