Going Home

by Judith Keim

  With the income from the inn, they hoped in another year to build a small winery. Then they could begin winemaking on their own from next year’s crop.

  “There are many variables here,” said Bernie, studying them thoughtfully. “It’s good to make as many plans as is reasonable so you have options, and then take it one day at a time.” His gaze rested on Kenton. “A lot will depend upon your survival.”

  Kenton stared at Bernie and then quickly averted his gaze to focus on something in the garden outside.

  Lettie could feel her mouth go dry. She knew they were all thinking of Kenton’s military service.

  Bernie’s departure two days after his post-New Year arrival brought a new quiet to the inn. The January weather, cold and rainy, added to the gloom inside. Kenton was due to report for his physical at a processing center in downtown Portland in two days. Lettie tried not to think about it, but neither she nor Kenton could help worrying.

  ###

  Too soon, the time they were dreading arrived. As ordered, Kenton packed a bag in preparation for his visit to the induction center in Portland. There, he would have a physical and be sworn in. Then, he would, most likely, be sent to Fort Ord in California for Basic Training and then probably AIT—Advanced Infantry Training.

  Though her nerves pulsed through her body in anxious rhythm, Lettie did her best to put on a brave front as she drove Kenton into Portland.

  “Remember everything Bernie and I told you,” Kenton said. “And if you need any legal help, Lew is ready to step in. The plans are carefully laid out. It’s just a matter of following them.” The tense tone in Kenton’s voice sent worry racing through her like a frightened rabbit. He was usually so calm, so sure.

  Outside the building where he was to report, Lettie put every bit of love she felt for him into the kiss they shared.

  Kenton abruptly pulled away. His eyes glistened. “Guess I’d better get inside.”

  He got out, opened the door to the back, retrieved his bag, and headed into the building, his steps hitting the pavement with determination.

  The tears Lettie had held back now blurred her vision as she pulled into traffic for the lonely ride home.

  A part of her wished that Kenton had pulled every string he could to get out of reporting for duty. But she’d learned he was a man who stuck to his principles of wanting to do the right thing. After two separate arguments about it, they’d resolved not to talk about it anymore.

  Back at the inn, Bee greeted her with excited yips and wagged her tail so hard that her hind legs slipped out from under her. Laughing, Lettie hugged the dog and accepted warm licks on the cheeks from her.

  “How’d it go?” asked Mrs. Morley when Lettie entered the house.

  “He’s there,” Lettie said despondently.

  “Well, if it’s any comfort to you, there might be a chance he won’t go to Vietnam if during his testing, they discover something special he can do. The Hartman boy ended up staying in California to teach at some military school there.”

  “Thanks for trying to cheer me up,” said Lettie. “We’ll see.” She held no hope for such a thing. Kenton was the kind of guy who wanted to do as much as anyone else for his country.

  That evening, alone in the house, Lettie was glad for Bee’s company. The dog, young as she was, sensed Lettie’s loneliness and stuck to her side.

  When the phone rang, Lettie jumped with surprise, and then hurried to answer it.

  “Lettie? It’s Kenton. Can’t talk long. Just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way to Fort Ord and might not be in touch for a while. God! I miss you already.”

  “Me too,” said Lettie, trying to sound brave.

  “Things are chaotic, but I’m told that after Basic Training, things should be a little clearer.”

  Lettie heard shouting in the background and then the phone went silent.

  ###

  After six long, lonely weeks had gone by, Lettie got a call from Lew Barnes. She and her lawyer exchanged pleasantries, and then Lew said, “I’ve found someone who can do some consulting with you. She’s a young woman, a graduate from the College of Hotel Administration at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and the daughter of an associate of mine. While the inn is empty, it might be a good time for her to come and stay for a while and coach you on running an inn or a small hotel. What do you say?”

  “I like the idea. If we’re going to do a good job for Rex and Kenton, we’re going to need all the help we can get. And this is a good time with little activity in the vineyard.”

  “Good,” said Lew. “I’m glad you see it that way. Her family has been in the hotel business for some time, and she wants to break into the business herself. In the meantime, she has a lot of information she can share.”

  “Who is this person?” Lettie asked.

  “Her name is Abigail Wilkins.”

  Lettie could feel her eyes widen. “Is she related to Adelaide Wilkins?” In San Francisco, Lettie had watched a television special about the successful owner of the Bradley Wilkins hotel chain. Dubbed the Leona Helmsley of the West, she was the woman everyone hated.

  “I understand she’s a niece by marriage and born to an estranged brother of Adelaide’s husband. So, there’s not a lot of affection or interaction between them.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” said Lettie, her mind racing. “With the inn empty, why doesn’t Abigail come here for a few days?”

  “Great. I’ll get in touch with her and let you know. Everything else okay?”

  “Kenton is still at boot camp, so it’s been very quiet here. But, he’s coming home on leave in another two weeks and then he’ll have to return to Fort Ord for Advanced Infantry Training. Mrs. Morley is thinking of retiring. I’ll be looking for someone to take her place. Right now, we don’t need anyone like her because the inn isn’t booked.”

  “Okay, keep in touch. Talk to you later.”

  After Lettie hung up the phone, she walked onto the back porch and stared out at the scenery below. The rolling hills were dusted with a coating of snow, like sugar on cakes. Some of the older people in the area were declaring this an unusually cold and snowy winter. Though there was a dampness to the cold air, it didn’t seem as bad to Lettie as winters in Ohio. Or perhaps she felt that way because the inn was her cozy and warm home.

  When Lettie went back inside, she walked into what was once Rex’s office and took a seat behind the desk, thinking of the responsibility on her shoulders. The phone rang.

  Lettie picked it up. “Hello?”

  “Is this Lettie Chandler?” asked a husky female voice.

  “Yes?”

  “This is Abby Wilkins. I understand from Mr. Barnes that you’re interested in hiring me to consult with you about the inn you own. Is that right?”

  “Yes,” said Lettie, intrigued by the voice, the confident way she conducted herself.

  “I’m free. I’m wondering if this is a good time for me to look at the place?”

  “Yes. At this time of year, we’re not busy. The weather isn’t good, and there’s not much going on with the grapes.”

  “Perfect. I’m meeting with someone in Portland tomorrow. After that, I’ll drive on down to your place. You’re right outside McMinnville, right?”

  “Yes. If you ask almost anyone in town, they can direct you to Chandler Hill.”

  ###

  The next afternoon, Lettie paced back and forth in the inn’s living room where she could watch through the front windows for anyone approaching. After spending nights alone in the big house, the idea of having someone like Abigail Wilkins staying at the inn was pleasing.

  At last, Lettie saw a small, black car making its way up the road.

  “Here she comes, Bee!” Lettie said to the dog, who wagged her tail and barked.

  As the car pulled to a stop in the parking area, Lettie hurried outside to greet her guest.

  She approached and then waited for Abigail to get out of the car. Moments later, Lettie stared up at the ta
ll figure who rose to stand before her.

  “Hi! Welcome to Chandler Hill,” Lettie said, studying the tall, dark-haired beauty. Her facial features were defined by high cheekbones, startling, tawny-colored eyes, and a wide mouth that easily curved into a smile.

  “I’m Abby Wilkins. You must be Lettie.” Abby held out a hand and Lettie shook it, wincing a little at Abby’s tight squeeze.

  “Oh, sorry,” said Abby. “I’m used to meeting with men who put a lot of energy into their handshakes. Apparently, it’s important to them.” She stood next to her car and gazed at the façade of the inn.

  “Beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Let me take your bags,” said Lettie, keeping Bee at bay. “This pesky puppy is Bee. She’s just over five months old and is still being trained.”

  “Aw, very cute,” Abby said, giving Bee a pat on the head that made her entire body wiggle.

  As they walked to the front door of the inn, Lettie studied Abby’s flared trousers and double-breasted suit jacket. Made of a tweed fabric, the outfit looked anything but masculine on her, yet gave her a business presence she admired.

  Inside, Lettie led Abby upstairs to one of her favorite guest rooms, one that overlooked the rolling hills and valley below.

  Abby looked around the room. “Very nice. I hadn’t expected anything quite so upscale.”

  “Rex wanted to make our guests feel pampered.”

  “Good,” said Abby, nodding with satisfaction. “That’s something we can use in our advertising campaign. Lew Barnes said we were going to work on a long-term plan for building business.”

  “Yes, that’s what we’re hoping to do,” said Lettie. “Any help you can give us will be appreciated.”

  Abby stood back and studied Lettie. “I’m so glad Mr. Barnes called me. I don’t know him very well, but he and my father sometimes play golf together.”

  “I’ll leave you to get comfortable,” said Lettie. “We’re very casual around here. No need to get dressed up.” Her cheeks grew warm at the shy admission. “But I love the pantsuit you’re wearing.”

  Abby grinned. “It’s my power suit.”

  Downstairs, Lettie set out a plate of cheese and crackers and pulled a bottle of wine from the rack in the wine closet.

  Abby came into the kitchen. “Anything I can do for you?”

  Lettie shook her head. “I’m not much of a cook. Mrs. Morley made a casserole for us.”

  “Sounds good. Don’t worry about cooking while I’m here. My mother’s maiden name is Agnolli, and both she and Grandma Agnolli made sure I can cook. They told me I’d never get a man if I didn’t know how to fill his stomach with good, Italian food. Gloria Steinem would roll her eyes at that, I’m sure.” She laughed, and Lettie joined in.

  Lettie lit the fireplace in the library, and the two of them basked in its glow. Bee slept at Lettie’s feet.

  Abby was easy company, answering Lettie’s questions about her life with fun-filled stories.

  Hearing her speak in such a knowledgeable way, Lettie vowed to listen carefully to everything Abby said. She’d never met anyone so comfortable in her own skin or so adept at dealing with men in business.

  As they sat down to dinner, Lettie was impressed by Abby’s ease in the kitchen as she added salt and pepper to her meal and talked about the chicken piccata she prepared at home in L.A.

  “How long have you known Kenton?” Abby asked her. “A friend of mine used to date him a couple of years ago. It didn’t work out, but she said he’s a nice guy.”

  “I met him in June. He made me a sandwich then offered me a job here at Chandler Hill.”

  “Wow! You guys moved fast!” Abby gave her an appraising look. “But I can see why he was so attracted to you. After the way the girls can be in L.A., you must have seemed like a breath of fresh air to him.”

  “I sometimes can’t believe we’re married. It happened so quickly.” The memory of their wedding in the Las Vegas chapel brought a smile to her face. “I’m glad, though.”

  “So, tell me a little about your background.” Abby wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back in her chair.

  Lettie told her about the family who’d raised her, her wishes to get away from Ohio, and how she’d reacted to her first sight of the inn and the rolling hills around it.

  “Running an inn takes a lot of hard work, but it sounds as if you’re already used to that,” said Abby. “That’s good. How are you with math and numbers?”

  Lettie shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Well then, tomorrow we’ll start with the basics of running an inn, then we’ll move on to running the numbers. I understand Bernie Randolph will be your accountant, but you need to understand the numbers yourself. Sound good?”

  “Sounds a little scary,” Lettie admitted. She knew she and Kenton were lucky to have inherited the inn and vineyards, but it meant she’d be tied to them for the rest of her life—a thought that sometimes worried her. Yet, she didn’t want to let Rex or Kenton down.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  For the next ten days, Lettie felt as if she was in school again. Abby was full of energy and liked to move at a fast pace. Once or twice, Lettie announced she needed to take a break, and the two of them would go outside and walk the hills. Then it was Lettie’s turn to show Abby what she’d learned from Rex, Joe, and others about growing grapes.

  At this time of year, Joe and his nephew Rico were sometimes in the fields checking the vines for damage and, where needed, building up soil at the base of the plants to protect them against freezing.

  When it came time for Abby to leave, Lettie was both sad and relieved. Sad because she’d miss the young woman who knew so much and gladly shared her knowledge and friendship. But she was feeling overwhelmed, exhausted, and sometimes nauseous over the responsibility of the inn and vineyards in addition to worrying about Kenton.

  After Abby left, Lettie cleaned her guest room and then went through the inn and house putting it back in order. As Abby had told her, the inn had to be ready to receive guests at any time.

  More importantly, Kenton would be coming home on leave! It would only be for a short time. The administration in Washington, D.C. had requested a two-year extension of the draft, making Kenton’s chances of avoiding going to Vietnam next to none. More men were needed.

  Lettie crossed off each of the following days on the kitchen calendar with growing excitement. She could hardly wait until Kenton would hold her in his arms again.

  On the day Kenton was to be released from boot camp, he called her from California. “Hi, sweetie! I’m on my way! I caught a ride with a buddy I met here who lives outside Seattle. I’m helping him drive so we’ll get there as fast as we can.”

  “Be careful,” Lettie said. “Can’t wait to see you!”

  “See you soon. Love you!”

  “Love you too!” Smiling, Lettie hung up the phone and went back to work, her heart singing with excitement.

  She’d just finished cleaning when Mrs. Morley called. “Are you going to be all right? Pat and I are going to visit our daughter in Seattle for a few days. Pat heard there was a winter storm on the way. You’d better stock up on food.”

  “Thanks, I’m going to the store today to get ready for Kenton’s visit. Have fun with your family.”

  “You too. Enjoy having that handsome husband of yours home for a while.”

  Lettie hung up the phone and pulled out a pen and paper from the desk drawer. She went through the items in the cupboards and the refrigerator, adding what she needed to her growing grocery list. Then she went upstairs to check on the status of things in the bathroom.

  It wasn’t until she searched the cupboard beneath the bathroom sink that she realized she hadn’t needed any sanitary napkins or tampons for quite some time.

  Gasping with dismay, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and started counting back. Almost three months had come and gone. Oh my God!

  She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. How stupid of he
r not to realize what was happening. She’d thought her sore nipples were because of the lovemaking that she and Kenton had enjoyed, and she’d attributed her infrequent bouts of nausea to worry over him. She crossed her arms over her stomach and fought tears. She didn’t want a baby. Not now. Maybe later when life was a little more settled.

  As if responding to such unwelcoming thoughts, her stomach turned, and she threw up in the toilet. Later, sitting back on her heels, patting her mouth, Lettie couldn’t stop the flow of tears from streaking down her face. At the moment, the thought of having the care of a baby on top of handling the inn and vineyard was overwhelming. And what if Kenton wasn’t ready to be a father?

  ###

  Later, as she was putting away the groceries, her phone rang. Warily, she picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Lettie. This is Rico. Joe wanted me to tell you that I’ll be staying in the cabin for the next couple of nights. A winter storm advisory is out, and he’s asked me to take care of the animals for him. We just wanted to give you fair warning.”

  “Thank you so much,” Lettie said with feeling. With Kenton finally coming home, the last things she wanted to worry about were the animals. The chickens she could handle, but the thought of being responsible for feeding and milking the cows was intimidating.

  Eating alone in the kitchen that night, Lettie reviewed much of what Abby had told her about supply and demand, financial forecasting, standing out in a crowd. Her mind was still spinning when she heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway.

  She ran to the window. An unfamiliar car was pulling to a stop in front of the inn.

  It wasn’t until she went to the door and looked out that she saw the dome on top of the car. She stared at it with a growing sense of shock. Why would a trooper be coming to the inn? But when the state trooper headed her way with purpose, she gripped the molding around the door with numb fingers.