He was thinking about a move to California and he hadn’t mentioned it?
Or maybe he hadn’t considered where she lived at all.
What else hadn’t he mentioned?
Fuming, she ignored the voice in her head that told her she wasn’t playing fair, and she scanned the list of recent emails for more information. She stopped at one from Serenity Real Estate and Development and clicked on the message; then she closed the mail program and stared at his computer wallpaper, a photo of the vineyards with this house in the background.
A house that might not be his much longer.
Brody had an offer from a Realtor. Having seen his debts she knew the amount mentioned in the email would wipe them away, but only just. Of course it was only an offer, a negotiating point, but no matter what Brody managed to wring from Serenity, he wouldn’t be left with much.
Dismay tightened the knot in her stomach, but it took her a moment to sort out her feelings. She realized how much she had set her heart on moving here, to this wonderful old house with all its potential, where they could settle in together and raise a family.
She didn’t want a thoroughly modern commuter marriage where she and Brody saw each other infrequently. Between the two of them, with her business knowledge and his knowledge of viticulture, they had a chance of turning things around here. She could cash in some of her investments and buy in to Ryan Vineyards as a partner, letting him retire a large chunk of his debt while she helped him get his financial feet on the ground again. He needed more from her than money, too. He needed her talents and connections, not to mention her enthusiasm, to bring his business practices into the twenty-first century.
She was confident enough in her own abilities to know that income from her own consulting firm would help keep them steady as they set things right together. They wouldn’t be rich at first or most likely ever. They would have to work hard. But they would be working together.
Now what good were her lofty plans for their future? Brody had kept everything a secret. When would that stop? If he really had broken their engagement because of his father’s illness, then ten years ago he hadn’t trusted her enough to believe they could find a way to manage together.
And now he was doing the same thing again.
Of course her own performance had been less than stellar. It was true she hadn’t told Brody she’d been fired, but she hadn’t told him because she had been searching for the right way to explain, to help him see that being fired was a good thing for both of them, a great thing.
Now she wondered if she should bother. For all she knew Brody’s plans might not include a commuter marriage. Quite possibly none of them had anything whatsoever to do with her. Sure, he was delighted she was in Kanowa Lake spending lonely winter nights in his bed, but the man had never mentioned a word about love or marriage.
On top of everything else he hadn’t mentioned!
By now she was so upset that she didn’t want to stay in his house another minute. She needed Hollymeade and a fresh perspective. She wasn’t sure how she would tell him what she had found—since she shouldn’t have been reading his mail or checking his files. But for the moment that detail seemed less important than just getting out of the house.
She was shaking with anger, and she wasn’t sure her hands were steady enough to write him a note. She threaded her way through the house to gather her things and find her coat and boots. Brody could stew over her absence and invent his own explanations.
* * *
“WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER? Is she with you?”
Brody held out his cell phone and squinted through the winter gloom at the number, which was only identified as “California.” On the way into town he had pulled over to the side of the road when the phone rang and, after glimpsing the screen, assumed the call was from Pablo Fontanello.
He had not expected the caller to be Jo’s mother.
“Who is this?” he asked pleasantly, to buy himself time while he figured out what to say.
“This is Sophie Glenn, Jovitienne Miller’s mother. And I know who you are.”
He had nearly forgotten that Jo’s birth certificate read Jovitienne. Years ago she had told him that when she was born Sophie had hoped that someday her baby daughter would need a first name she could use on its own. In preparation she had given her a doozy. Madonna. Cher. Jovitienne.
“This is Brody Ryan,” he said, as his windshield rapidly disappeared in a layer of snow. “Are you certain you meant to call me?”
“Please put Jovitienne on the line.”
“Mrs. Glenn, I’m in a car by myself. There’s nobody here but me.”
“Then where is she?”
“Have you tried her cell phone? That seems like a better possibility than calling a stranger out of the blue.”
“Well, you’re no stranger to my daughter, are you? I may have been out of the country when you and Jovitienne were spending all that time together as teenagers, but I kept my ear to the ground, and I put facts together. You think I never figured out why she went all the way to Massachusetts for college when she could have stayed in California? You think we don’t have great universities here?”
The words were combative, but the voice was merely tremulous. Brody gave Jo’s mother the benefit of the doubt, even if the woman had snooped until she’d discovered his connection to her daughter. Ten years ago they had been so sure nobody had figured it out, now he wondered how many others had known.
“Jo’s fine,” he said. “We just spent the morning fixing my sink, and she’s still at my house. But she won’t answer my phone, so it won’t make sense to call her there. I’ll ask her to call you. Don’t worry about her.”
“Don’t worry?” Now Sophie’s voice rose. “She’s been fired from a job she adores, and you don’t think I should worry?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Fired. The human relations director left a message on her answering machine. I was there taking down the Christmas tree I decorated for her that she never even saw. I heard! He gave instructions on when she could come to clear her desk. Because she’s been fired!”
“Today? On a Saturday?” Brody asked, because it was the only thing he could think of.
“Of course not. I heard the message yesterday.”
Jo had been fired yesterday. They had been together all evening through to this morning, and she hadn’t told him.
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation,” he said in the same soothing voice he had cultivated in his father’s final days. “She seems fi–”
“Then she didn’t tell you?”
“Jo’s fine,” he continued. “Believe me. She was perfectly cheerful when I left.”
“She hides her feelings. She learned how a long time ago. God knows she had to, since I always had enough for both of us. That’s why I never mentioned you to her, even though it wasn’t easy. She needed something that was just hers and had nothing to do with me. But she can’t be taking this well, and now she won’t talk to me. She’s not answering my phone calls.”
“If all this is true, and there’s no other explanation for what you heard, then maybe Jo’s just trying to take some time to consider it. She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
His words sounded reasonable, even calm, but inside he was seething. He understood why Jo hadn’t wanted to talk to her mother, but why hadn’t she told him? What were they to each other? Was he just somebody to have fun with while she kept the most important parts of her life to herself?
“I’m going to worry until I hear from her,” Sophie said.
“I’ll tell her that,” Brody promised. “I’ll make sure she gets your message. She probably didn’t want you to worry.”
“Are you serious about my daughter?”
Brody didn’t know what to say. And when he didn’t kn
ow what to say, he said nothing.
“You are, then,” Sophie said. “She deserves a good man. Her life hasn’t been easy, and I’m not so self-absorbed I don’t realize that. Bow out now if you don’t think you can make her happy. It’s not my place to interfere, and I won’t, but please take care of her, whatever that means. Don’t hurt her.”
And with that, the line went dead.
At the moment Brody wasn’t thinking about taking care of Jo. He was thinking about all the things she hadn’t said to him since their reunion. Nothing about the real possibility of losing her job. Nothing about future plans.
Nothing about them.
He wasn’t really a part of her life, so she didn’t have to tell him anything.
Okay, he certainly had things he hadn’t shared with her, but he was keeping silent about his own problems to keep her from getting in over her head.
He might keep his feelings to himself, the same way she did, but this was it. He’d reached the point of no return.
He got back on the road and turned toward home. He was going to tell Jo about Sophie’s phone call and see what she had to say for herself.
CHAPTER TEN
ON THE WAY back to Hollymeade Jo listened to the radio, spurred to turn it on by the snow accumulating on the road. The news wasn’t good. This storm was going to be major. In fact, in some nearby areas it already was.
Of course she would be fine. She had stocked Hollymeade’s pantry with canned soup, tuna fish and peanut butter. The refrigerator contained a little fresh fruit, a loaf of bread, half a rotisserie chicken and a pound of ground beef. Even if the power went out in the house and affected the gas furnace, there was plenty of wood beside the back door. The house had two woodstoves and a fireplace, and she would stay warm until the snow was cleared away.
She wondered, though, why she was thinking this way. Why was she planning to stay? She needed to get back to California and tie up loose ends. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in two days, and Sophie would be frantic. She needed to meet with her lawyer to be sure the termination agreement was agreeable, needed to clear her desk. Luckily, because Frank had a reputation for firing employees on a whim, there was nothing important in her files that she didn’t already have copies of. Good thing, too, because Frank would have somebody standing over her as she packed.
What was keeping her here? Brody had made it clear he didn’t need her help to make the important decisions facing him. So what was the point of hanging around?
She knew better than to try to make the trip to Buffalo to get the next available flight without checking with the state police. She’d had one close call on these roads, and she didn’t need another. The moment she got back to Hollymeade she would phone the police; then, if the news was favorable, she would head right out.
If Brody wanted to talk to her, he could call her cell, but in the short time she had been in the car, she had made a decision. She wasn’t going to talk to him at all unless he came clean about his life and future. All the hurt she’d experienced ten years ago was pouring through her again. Yes, she was overreacting. Yes, she was not behaving like the adult she was. But she was entitled to her feelings, and she wasn’t going to pretend them away anymore.
The Hollymeade driveway was covered with new snow, but not enough to cause a problem. Inside the house she called the state police and punched numbers until she found the desk she needed. The latest road report was an hour old, but at that time the roads had been clear enough to make her trip. She knew an hour could make a big difference, and she should proceed with an emergency plan in place.
Should she chance it? If she could just get thirty miles up the road, she could find a motel if she had to wait out the storm. She decided to risk it.
She had brought very little, and the kitchen bulletin board held simple instructions on how to close up the house. She cleaned out the refrigerator, then she followed the rest of the instructions before she packed, putting the quilt block with its newly completed Friendship Star border in her carry-on for safety until she could mail it to Ella.
She made three trips to the car and finally locked the front door behind her, rezipping the canvas tent before she edged her way down the icy front steps and around back to deposit the key under the vase.
“Goodbye, Hollymeade.” The words caught in her throat. She didn’t know when or if she would come back. She would like to be a real part of the Miller family again, but having Brody in Kanowa Lake would be a barrier. Ten years had passed, yet like a fool she had fallen in love with him all over again. Where Brody Ryan was concerned, her heart won every battle with her head.
She started the car; then, as it warmed again, she carefully scraped ice and snow off the windshield. The snowfall seemed thicker, but she was committed now. Thirty miles and she would be fine.
At last she carefully maneuvered her way up the rapidly disappearing driveway. She was almost to the road when she heard a familiar rumble and Brody’s pickup, complete with plow, turned in to block her escape.
She slapped her palm against the steering wheel. She wasn’t ready for a confrontation, but that was exactly what was about to happen unless she lied and told him she had a family emergency and needed to go home.
No, it was too late for lies. For that matter it had always been too late. It was time to lay her cards on the table.
She turned off the engine and got out, but she didn’t close the door. She used it as a shield and stood behind it as he got out, too.
He wasn’t smiling. “Did you need to run home for something?”
She was tempted to tell him yes, that she would follow, then turn the other way once she got out to the road. She had never realized how hard talking about her feelings was, but the proof was standing right in front of her.
“I’m going home to California,” she said. “And you’re in my way.”
If anything he looked puzzled. “Home?”
“That’s right. It’s past time.”
“And you just decided? Last I heard we were having dinner together.”
She took a deep breath. “Last I heard we meant something to each other, even if you’ve never really said as much. Then I found out a few things about you, Brody, that made me see the light.”
He looked startled. “You found out things about me?”
“Let’s just say I’ve figured out a lot of things. That ten years ago you broke off our engagement because your father was dying and you didn’t trust me enough to think I could handle it.”
He didn’t bother to deny it. “That was ten years ago, Jo.”
“Right. So let’s fast forward. You’ve been keeping things from me again. Like how badly you’re in debt. Like all the ways you’re thinking about getting out of it. Big things. Things you would share with somebody you trusted, somebody you loved! But you’ve never trusted me, Brody, and I should have figured that out the minute I figured out the part about your father. I don’t know what I am to you, but whatever it is, it’s not what I want to be.”
“Exactly what are you talking about, and how do you know things I haven’t told you?”
She ignored the last part. “You’re thinking about selling Ryan Vineyards and maybe taking a job in California, but not close to me, Brody. Somewhere far enough that distance will still be an issue. Maybe that’s why it’s so appealing.”
“You don’t think you’re part of my decisions? That I’m trying to do what’s right for us both?”
“How would you know what’s right for me? Have you ever asked? Have you ever suggested you might love me enough to make me part of your equation?”
“Me?” He stepped forward and around the door so there was nothing between them. “What about you, Jo? I just talked to your mother. She tells me you’ve been fired. When were you going to stop pretending you’ve been hanging around Kanowa Lake
because you wanted to and not because you didn’t have any other place you needed to be right now?”
She set aside the fact he had been talking to Sophie to consider later. “I was trying to think of the right way to tell you, because I knew you would see the whole thing differently than it really is.”
“Right, you were protecting me.”
She had never heard him be sarcastic. It made her angrier. “Stupid me. You know, figuring out how to spend time and energy is one of my most valuable skills. Apparently I just don’t know how to apply what I know to myself. Not ten years ago, and certainly not now.”
“So while we’re at it? Are you going to pretend you weren’t relieved when I canceled the engagement all those years ago? I was looking at you. You looked like somebody who’d had the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders!”
“That’s because...” She stopped herself. “What do you care? If that’s how you read it, it probably made things easier for you. Bravo. You got rid of me with less guilt. You were happy. I was happy. And now you can make me happy one last time by getting out of my way. I need to put some miles behind me this afternoon while I still can.”
“You shouldn’t be driving in this storm.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
He stared at her. A long moment. Then he shrugged, turned around and went back to his truck. Once he was inside the cab she watched the pickup back up, turn, back up, turn once more into the narrow drive. When Brody was finally facing the road he roared away. And when the sound of the truck died, the only thing she could hear was the soft rustle of snow falling all around her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BRODY WAS NEARLY home before he began to think clearly. Somehow Jo had found out about the job with Fontanello and the possibility of selling his family’s land, although how was a mystery.
Unfortunately for him, now that his fury was waning—and despite all inclination not to—he was beginning to understand her feelings. In Jo’s mind, not discussing the future had been a signal that he didn’t want to include her in it.
The Christmas Wedding Quilt: Let It SnowYou Better Watch OutNine Ladies Dancing Page 9
