He tugged on the reins, and the horse halted abruptly. Marie handed Philippe the lantern. She slid off the horse, hiked up her skirt and ran into the widespread arms of her husband.
Chapter 38
AUGUST 1906
Sara lit the thick birthday candle she’d bought for Luc when he was three years old. Today, she would keep the flame burning until the wax melted from the number nine down to ten. The candle would serve as a blessing, according to the superstitions, and would ward off any evil spirits bold enough to enter their home.
August twentieth was always bittersweet for Sara. It marked Luc’s entrance into the world, but also her sister Lydia’s departure from it. Though the sadness of that day would never leave Sara, the sharpness of her pain had eased with the passing of time.
After everything they’d endured in April, Sara was determined to make this the best birthday Luc had ever celebrated. She’d even written Maman and Jacques, as well as Philippe’s grandparents, to ask them to send notes and trinkets for him on his special day. As Rose finished swirling the mile-high frosting on the chocolate cake, everyone settled into chairs around the dining room table. Sara piled Luc’s gifts and letters on the table in front of him. He beamed with excitement, rubbing his hands together with delight.
“Go ahead, we’re all waiting,” Sara urged.
Luc smiled, and pulled a letter from the stack. Instead of ripping it open, as Sara expected, his hand fell to the table. He lifted his head, and said, in a voice far too serious for a ten-year-old, “Thank you so much for being here.”
The family burst into applause, pressing him to open his gifts. The first was a letter from Maman and Jacques. They sent a photograph of themselves, standing in the flourishing replanted vineyard of Saint Martin. Sara glanced at the photo over the boy’s shoulder, happy to see Maman and Jacques looking so healthy and content.
The second envelope came from François and Jacqueline LeBlanc, Philippe’s grandparents. Two letters fell into Luc’s hand when he opened it: one for him, and one for his father. While Luc read his letter aloud, Sara watched her husband, quietly studying his in the corner. His expression was unreadable, but when he slipped out into the kitchen, she followed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing to worry about now, but . . .” Philippe handed it to Sara. “Read it.”
Sara scanned the elegant handwriting. “The kaiser is building a navy to wage war? Do you really think it’s a serious threat?”
“I don’t know.” Philippe shrugged. “My grandfather reads the international papers, and keeps up with all the political news. He’s seen a lot in his seventy-seven years.”
A cheer erupting from the dining room tugged on Sara’s heartstrings. “Perhaps, but I’m sure he’ll alert us to any real danger.” She slid her arms through Philippe’s. “In the meantime, let’s worry about our ten-year-old, who needs your help cutting his birthday cake.” Sara kissed him enticingly, coaxing a smile from his lips.
After the party, Sara and Philippe took their customary evening walk in the vineyard. They strolled into the pear grove, pausing to murmur goodnight to the child who hadn’t survived. Sara found this nightly ritual soothing. She picked up a stray stone, wiped it clean of moss and dirt, and placed it back into the circle of smooth, white rocks marking the little girl’s grave. They continued on, past the winery. The spotless windows glistened in the waning sunlight, for they had just finished cleaning every inch of the building—and scrubbing and hosing down the equipment—in anticipation of the upcoming harvest.
As they moved deeper between the vines, Sara’s skirts swished against the broad cabernet leaves. She felt for the medium-sized, tightly knit clusters and plucked several small blue-black grapes to sample. She playfully popped one in Philippe’s mouth. He chewed, closing his eyes in concentration. “Nearly ready, I’d say.”
Sara bit into the grape’s thick skin. “Mmm,” she agreed, her mind drifting back to the day they started their life together. “Do you remember what you said on our wedding night—to calm me down when I was nervous?” They fell into step together, meandering west toward the creek.
Philippe squinted at the gold and blue sky, streaked with wide, thin clouds. “Didn’t I quote Genesis? ‘And the two shall become one flesh,’” he recalled, threading his fingers between hers.
“That’s right.” She squeezed his hand. “But I’ve been wondering,” she began searchingly, “if the two become one flesh, then what about the spirit?”
“The spirit?” He laughed softly, sliding his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ll never be fully joined in spirit, my love—you’re far too stubborn.” She elbowed his ribs and tried to wriggle from his arms, but he tightened his grip. “Perhaps the most we can hope for,” he whispered tantalizingly, “is a satisfying roll in the hay.” He pinched her derrière, and Sara squealed, jumping from his grasp. He reached for her, but she sprinted down the slope and ducked into a cluster of scrub pines by the creek’s edge. As she waited in the shadows, shiny green needles rustled in the evening breeze, tickling her skin. Out of nowhere he sprang, catching her waist. She shrieked with laughter, until his fingers twined through her hair and he quietly, insistently, parted her lips.
Sara had never been this sure of anything. Her spirit would always return home—not to Saint Martin, or to Eagle’s Run—but home to Philippe.
Author’s Note
The California Wife was a pleasure to research and create. The main characters and storylines leapt from my imagination onto the page, but in order to lend historical credibility to the novel, I’ve included real historical figures, places and events.
For example, I mention several influential winemaking pioneers of the nineteenth century, such as Gustave Niebaum, Charles Krug, Agoston Haraszthy, George Husmann, Henry J. Crocker, H.W. Crabb, W. J. Hotchkiss, and Jacob and Frederick Beringer. The fête at the Italian Swiss Colony in Asti—featuring the gigantic wine cistern—and the meeting between the Napa winemakers and the California Wine Makers’ Corporation in St. Helena are actual events that transpired during 1898. The conversation between W. J. Hotchkiss and the Napa winemakers is based on the transcript from the meeting (“Wine Men at St. Helena,” Pacific Wine & Spirit Review, February 24, 1898, p. 22). To explore Napa’s history in more detail, I recommend William Heintz’s California’s Napa Valley (Scottwall Associates, 1999) and Lauren Coodley’s Napa: The Transformation of an American Town (Arcadia Publishing, 2007).
The Paris Exposition of 1900, and the controversy over the decision to exclude American wines from the competition, dominated the wine trade papers of the day. I recommend Richard Mandell’s Paris 1900: The Great World’s Fair (University of Toronto Press, 1967) for more details about the exposition and its exhibits.
The Women’s Medical College of the New York Infirmary, founded by Elizabeth Blackwell, America’s first female medical doctor, boasted cutting-edge obstetrics and clinical midwifery programs in the late 1800s. Dr. Levi Cooper Lane founded San Francisco’s Cooper Medical College in 1882, and built its medical school on the corner of Sacramento and Webster streets with his own funds. It became the second medical school in California to admit women in the late nineteenth century. The two-hundred-bed Lane Hospital was established in 1895, adjacent to the medical school. In 1908, Stanford University acquired Cooper Medical College, which became the cornerstone of what is now the Stanford University School of Medicine. To learn more about Dr. Levi Cooper Lane and the rich history of Stanford University’s School of Medicine, see www.lane.stanford.edu/med-history/.
The Harbor Emergency Hospital was located on the San Francisco waterfront and received many of the injured during the Great Earthquake and Fire of 1906. This earthquake, which measured close to 8.0 on the Richter scale, was one of the most significant natural disasters of the century. Along with the fires that raged from April 18 to 23, it killed thousands of people and destroyed nearly eighty percent of th
e city. For more information, I recommend reading Gladys Hansen and Emmett Condon’s Denial of Disaster: The Untold Story and Photographs of the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906 (Cameron & Company, 1989) or visiting the virtual museum of the City of San Francisco at www.sfmuseum.org.
For more information on my research and writing process, please visit my website at www.kristenharnisch.com.
Acknowledgments
The California Wife was a labor of love and would not exist without the advice and enthusiasm of these generous people:
My agent, April Eberhardt, who champions my work with such energy and positivity.
My amazing editor, Lorissa Sengara, who artfully guided me through several revisions.
The other dedicated members of my HarperCollins Canada team, namely my publisher Iris Tupholme, managing editorial director Noelle Zitzer, copyeditor Sarah Wight, proofreader Helen Guri and publicist Kelsey Marshall. Collaborating with them has been an absolute pleasure.
Nancy Levenberg and Alexandria Brown of the Napa County Historical Society, for reviewing the manuscript and providing the photos, eyewitness accounts and other research materials I needed to craft accurate descriptions of historical Napa.
Tina Vierra, associate publisher of Wines and Vines, for her careful review of the manuscript’s grape-growing and winemaking scenes.
Patrick Cahill, DO, for sharing his obstetrical expertise, and Kevin Miller, MD, for reviewing the medical and surgical scenes with such precision.
Greg Gauthier, Susan Falcon and Thalia Balderas of Bouchaine Vineyards; Paul Torre and Tim Stel of Beringer Vineyards; Kim Ilsley, a real-life vintner’s daughter; Steve Stone of Napa Valley Bike Tours; and Max Roher of Max Napa Tours for their hospitality and for sharing their vast knowledge about winemaking and Napa history.
My publicist, Caitlin Hamilton Summie, for her tireless work to make The Vintner’s Daughter and this series a success.
The entire staff of the Darien Library for the superb research materials they provided along the way.
My first readers, Maryellen Lacroix, Frank Lacroix and S. Taylor Harnisch, for their thoughtful and constructive critiques of my early drafts.
Janel Silva, who first introduced me to the great city of San Francisco and its fascinating history.
The Donelan, Lacroix and Harnisch families and all the devoted friends, readers, book clubs, booksellers and libraries who have contributed to the success of this series. I am deeply indebted to them.
And last, but never least, a heartfelt thank you to my four biggest fans: David, Ellen, Ryan and Julia.
About the Author
KRISTEN HARNISCH is a direct descendant of Louis Hébert, one of the first colonists in New France and a prominent figure in French-Canadian history. She has a degree in economics from Villanova University and now lives in Connecticut. The California Wife is the sequel to The Vintner’s Daughter, her debut novel.
Web: www.kristenharnisch.com
Twitter: @KristenHarnisch
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Also by Kristen Harnisch:
The Vintner’s Daughter
Credits
Cover images: Woman photo courtesy of Arcangel Images;
Farm photo courtesy of Trevillion Images
Cover design: Lisa Bettencourt
Copyright
The California Wife
Copyright © 2016 by Kristen Harnisch.
All rights reserved under all applicable International Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Published by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition: December 2015 ISBN: 9781443426480
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