Chapter Five
Eli let himself out of Rachel’s apartment as the sun was rising. He hadn’t slept knowing that she was in the next room. They were that close, but they couldn’t have been farther apart. Even so, as badly as he wanted her, he wasn’t going to disrespect her wishes. That was one of the reasons he’d gotten the hell out of there at first light.
It had stopped raining sometime during the night leaving the morning air crisp and icy. Eli’s boots crunched on the frozen ground as he made his way to his truck, which was parked in Rachel’s parking space around back of her apartment above the cookie shop. A new high-rise building on the southwest corner of the square caught his eye as it reared up out of the ground like a giant sentinel. How had he missed that last night? Its modern lines were at odds with downtown’s traditional historic architecture. It looked as out of place as he felt in this damn town.
Maybe it was a sign that things were changing in Whiskey River. If a shiny high-rise could sprout up in the heart of the downtown business district, anything could happen. Obviously. Who ever thought three bad boys from the Barrels would be welcomed into polite Whiskey River society?
He was greeted by a crust of ice on the windshield. The irony made him laugh out loud. Logan’s Hollywood A-list status may have been Eli’s golden ticket to the ball last night, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t ice him out. Who knew if they could forgive and forget the past? He wasn’t here to warm up people like Donna Morgan, Carol Butterfield, and Paloma Kelly. He didn’t give a damn what they thought of him. He was here to work, to bring the Barrels Winery to life. That’s all that mattered.
That and Rachel.
Proving himself to Rachel was completely different. She’d kissed him back. There had to be hope.
He defrosted his windshield and took extra care driving. What should’ve been a forty-minute drive took him an hour and fifteen minutes. But he finally made it back to the bungalow.
His body was still on west coast time. The time difference, coupled with the cheap wine they’d served at the gala, and the sleep he hadn’t gotten last night because the woman he hadn’t been able to forget was right on the other side of the wall had all manifested in the form of a headache that was starting to pound in his temples.
He showered and tried to decide whether he’d go back to bed or try to tough it out and get back on Texas time. His hair was wet and he had a towel around his waist when his phone pinged with a text from Logan asking if he was still free to go walk the land where they’d plant the vineyard in the spring.
Logan: Can we go look at the property earlier before our meeting with Harlan?
He was surprised to hear from Logan this early because last night, when they’d talked about going on the walkabout today, Logan had asked if they could make it later because he fully intended to enjoy himself at the party. Maybe his plan didn’t quite pan out.
Eli: Didn’t get lucky last night?
Logan: I’m always lucky. Are you in to see the land this a.m.?
That’s all it took for Eli to decide to tough it out and stay awake. This way, he would get back on schedule faster. Plus, doing something constructive to keep his mind occupied was the best thing.
Eli put on a pot of strong coffee and texted Logan back telling him he would drive. His truck was better suited than Logan’s Lincoln for traversing the terrain. He wanted to drive every inch of the forty-six-acre property and start putting their plans in motion.
This was only the second time Eli had seen the land in person. The other time, he’d flown in with Logan on his Gulfstream G650. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile that Logan Calloway from the Barrels in Whiskey River had done well enough to not only buy a jet, but to retain a crew to fly it for him. The good thing about Logan was he was still the same person he’d always been. Success hadn’t changed him. He hadn’t let all the fame and wealth go to his head. If anything, he was even more generous—because he could be. He stood by old friends who knew him when, which was illustrated in this once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity he was affording Eli.
Logan was bringing the financial backing and name recognition and Eli would bring the viticulture experience. Logan had insisted on drawing up legal documents stipulating that if Eli committed ten years to turning the Barrels Winery into a producing vineyard, he would legally own fifty percent of the land, as well as half the business. Logan had included safety clauses in the partnership papers that if either of them failed to uphold his end of the bargain, the land and all its structures and assets would revert to the one who was still in. Eli appreciated that. He wasn’t bringing any cash to the table, only knowledge. In his old neighborhood, the way he was raised, cash was king; knowledge was worthless. But then Logan had pointed out that this was a business venture, but it was also a way to ensure nothing came between their friendship.
Eli was sure neither of them would flake out. People may have perceived that he had problems with commitment in the past since he’d hadn’t found his path when he’d lived here before—he hadn’t been a good student and, at the time he hadn’t been college bound. He had a reputation for working jobs that weren’t too taxing and didn’t have a future, but all that changed when he’d discovered the wine industry. He’d made a commitment when he went into partnership with Logan to bring the Barrels Winery into fruition. And even though it brought him back to a place he swore he would never return—or maybe because of it bringing him back to Whiskey River—he was all in.
Friends didn’t quit on friends. Even so, he was appreciative that Logan valued their friendship enough to put in writing that Eli was an equal partner.
It was the first of many business crash courses he’d had since they’d dreamed up this crazy idea and got closer to it becoming a reality. Eli had been a quick learner. Wine—the science of planting and harvesting and winemaking—had clicked with him. It was the first time he’d found his place in the world. But over the past year since they’d been working on the business plan for the Barrels Winery, he’d learned to separate himself from the science of winemaking and digest the numbers end of it. He instincts were proving to be equally good in both arenas.
He downed a couple of cups of coffee and picked Logan up an hour later. The property was only about twenty minutes north of Logan’s bungalow.
“Where did you go last night?” Logan asked after he’d buckled himself in and they were on the road. “I didn’t see your truck here when I got home.”
It was still cold enough outside that condensation was trying to refreeze on the windshield. Eli cranked up the defroster to full blast.
“Rachel got an emergency call from her babysitter and she had to leave,” he said. “Her car wouldn’t start. So, I drove her home.”
“I’m glad you had a good night.”
“Well, I don’t know if I’d go that far. I had to wear a monkey suit and attend a stuffy charity event. But it was good to spend some time with Rachel. It had been too long. What about you?” Eli asked.
“What about me?” Logan said.
“Are you interested in Avery?”
“She is tempting, but I don’t want to mess things up.”
“In other words, you like her too much?”
He shrugged and looked out the window. “I mean, this life that I’m leading…it’s great. There’s so much about it that’s killer, like a dream come true, but it also tends to make a person very self-absorbed. You have to be that way, because it’s all about you—it’s about looks and image and the old cliché that you’re only as good as your last project. That just doesn’t make it very conducive for a lasting relationship. Know what I mean?”
“No. I think you’re full of shit. I think that’s an excuse. What else is going on with you?”
They’d been friends long enough for Eli to know when Logan wasn’t being straight with himself. They’d also been friends long enough for them to call each other out when the bullshit detector went off. This morning, it was going off loud and clear.
Unfortunately, Eli did know. The guy had been a drunk, abusive jackass.
“What if I have those same demons inside me that he did? What if I’m too selfish and mean to be in a relationship and put someone else first? What if I start drinking too much and ruin her life?”
“I think you’re looking for excuses. You’ve dated in Hollywood. The vibe between you and Avery seems different.”
“Yeah, well, it is different. Whiskey River and LA are two completely different planets. It’s easy to fake it in LA because everyone is pretending out there, but Avery isn’t west coast fake. She’s real…”
“And that’s why you like her.”
Logan shrugged again, which was the Logan equivalent of a yes. He pushed his sunglasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “But I’m not sure I deserve her.”
Eli knew when to push and when to let something go. This was a time to let it go. If Logan had feelings for Avery, he’d work it out—they’d work it out, if the feeling was mutual.
For all the good that was happening right now, it wasn’t easy coming back to this place.
It was hard to believe there was a time—right around the time when he’d been forced out of Whiskey River—when Eli wondered if he would ever find his place in the world. He still marveled at the irony of how when Donna Morgan ran him out of town, away from her daughter, she’d been pushing him toward his destiny, his life’s purpose.
Now, the only thing missing from his life was Rachel. But before they could make things work—if she wanted to make things work—they still had some work to do on themselves.
When they arrived at the property, Eli pulled in and stopped at a padlocked aluminum gate that was connected to a barbed wire fence and stretched across the drive to kept people off the land. Logan got out, unlocked the gate and pulled it open so Eli could drive through.
They’d talked about commissioning an ironworker to create a custom-made iron gate with the vineyard’s name forged into it. They would replace the barbed wire fence that surrounded the property with a stone entryway that flanked the iron gate. All it took was cash. But they had a million things they needed to do before they got to the point where they were commissioning a gate.
After Logan got back in the truck, Eli drove the perimeter of the land before they decided where to park for their walkabout. He killed the engine and they both got out of the truck. It was still cold outside, but the sun had started its climb in the blue sky, warming up everything it touched. With today’s weather, it was hard to believe that last night an ice storm had caused the sheriff to close the roads…forcing him to stay with Rachel.
He couldn’t have orchestrated last night better if he’d planned it himself. The road closures right after they got off the highway; Rachel’s daughter giving them a reason to leave the party, but then falling so sound asleep that the babysitter suggested the little girl sleep over at her place so as not to wake her. It was almost as if the universe had been conspiring to get them back together.
Well, on second thought, if he’d arranged it, he wouldn’t have slept on the floor. Alone. With her in the next room. If he’d been the architect of this plan, his reason for not sleeping would’ve been because they’d been naked and in her bed keeping each other up all night, making up for lost time.
He was getting hot even thinking about it.
He needed to not think about it. Think about wine. Think about the hard labor it was going to take to plant fifteen acres in the spring.
Think about how she married someone else not even six months after you left town.
Focus, dammit.
Before he and Logan bought the property, they’d had the soil’s composition tested A geologist had surveyed the topography, testing it for water retention and drainage. Their plan was to plant two varieties of grapes: Blanc du Bois and Cabernet Sauvignon. Both were hardy grapes that had a history of doing well in the Texas Hill Country and weren’t as susceptible to many of the bacteria and diseases that could wipe out entire vineyards.
The plan was to start small. Their goal was to produce five thousand cases of wine in their first year. But, of course, the first year didn’t begin until after the first harvest. They would plant the vines in the spring and spend the next three years protecting and nurturing them into healthy, fruit-bearing crops.
In the meantime, they had plenty to do. They needed to get with Harlan and talk about building the offices and tasting room. They needed to finalize their business and marketing plans. They needed to design a logo and wine labels. They wanted to start a program similar to the one that Eli had attended in California, the one that had given him a purpose and basically saved his life, making him into the man he was today. And they needed to talk about the restaurant that would be connected to the winery.
Logan had given Eli a chance to make his dream come true. Now he had a chance to pay forward that good fortune.
“I need to talk to you about the restaurant we want to open with the winery,” Eli said. “I’d like to give Rachel a chance to open it for us. How do you feel about that?”
*
Sunday morning had been hectic getting Katie from Betty’s apartment and going with Avery to get her car from the Harwood House parking lot. Miraculously, it had started on the first try. It didn’t help matters that she hadn’t slept well knowing that Eli was in the living room sleeping on the couch. He had been so close, her body had ached for him, but she had forced herself to hold firm to her resolve.
She hadn’t seen Eli in more than a decade. She wasn’t going to fall into bed with him the first night…and she hadn’t heard from him today, so chances were good that she might not fall into bed with him at all. So, it was just as well.
Last night, in between fitful bouts of dozing and waking, she’d had the craziest dream. It probably was a mixture of Eli’s sudden appearance and the relief that Felicity’s Ball, which had consumed her life, was finally over.
In her dream, she was at the ball, but she wasn’t supposed to be there because Donna had grounded her, just like she had back in high school when Rachel was dating Eli and he had gotten into trouble toward the end of their relationship. In the dream, she’d been dancing so much that she was exhausted, but was being tossed from one partner to the next in a cloud of lavender—the scent of lavender had almost been overwhelming. She was worried about Donna finding her there; she was worried about the food getting cold or running low.
She could hear Katie crying for her while she was looking for Eli. The only reason she’d walked out onto the dance floor was to find Eli. Finally, a pretty, petite blonde woman had taken her by the hand and had torn her away from the crowded dance floor. She was desperately holding Rachel’s hands, staring up at her with earnest blue eyes—huge blue eyes—repeating over and over, “Donna had no right to ground you. Eli loves you. Ask your mother about the message. She should’ve given you his message.”
If that wasn’t subconscious wishful thinking, triggered by stress and the surprise of Eli waltzing back into Whiskey River, what could it be? But it also dawned on her that Donna had grounded her when things had heated up with Eli being accused of stealing her car. Donna had been hell-bent on keeping the two of them apart and for the longest time, she had been determined to send Eli to prison. Then, out of the blue, she and her attorney offered Eli an alternative to serving time: he had to enroll in a California program for at-risk young adults.
The dream and the memories gave Rachel pause. Eli still maintained his innocence. But would Donna have given him a way out if she’d really believed was guilty? Now that more than a decade had passed, she wondered if Eli would tell her the truth.
If he didn’t steal the car, who had he been protecting?
She wanted to ask him, but he’d left that morning before she’d awakened.
As Rachel placed a big plastic container of ornaments on the coffee table in pre
paration for Katie’s and her tree-trimming party with Donna, she tried her best to ignore how much she wanted to hear from him again.
She felt so off kilter. Eli had been back in her life for less than twenty-four hours and she couldn’t stop thinking of him, but she didn’t want to think about him. He was a drug and she was the addict jonesing for another hit of him.
And the ludicrous thing was that she really didn’t even know if he was back in her life. One night did not mean he was back.
Katie came into the living room, dragging her blanket.
All it took was one look at her daughter. Her green eyes that were so much like her own, her strawberry-blonde hair, and her dimples—she was Rachel’s mini-me. Very little of her father was evident in her, at least at this stage.
If pressed, she’d have to admit she was glad it was that way.
Rachel had been so newly pregnant, she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell Lyle before he died of an aneurysm four years ago at the age of thirty-five. So, Katie had never known the father who’d never known his child was about to come into the world.
While Rachel was sad that Katie wouldn’t grow up in a traditional two-parent household, Lyle hadn’t been a very good husband. He was hot-tempered and short on patience, especially when he drank too much, which had been increasingly more toward the end of his life. He’d changed after they’d gotten married and moved to Houston. He went from the sweet-talking customer who used to come into Baron’s Steakhouse when she was working so he could see her, to a volatile drunk. But that’s what she got for getting married on the rebound. You couldn’t really know a person after only six months. Especially when she saw only what she wanted to see because she was still so numb from Eli leaving her the way he did.
Looking back, it was evident that she’d just wanted to get away from Whiskey River. Lyle Wood, the older man who went out of his way to see her and bought her a diamond and dropped down on one knee to propose in front of everyone at Baron’s—the place where she and Eli met and worked together—had seemed like her vindicating ticket out of town.
A Texas Christmas Homecoming Page 7
