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High Tide

Page 9

by Jill Sanders


  “Here?” Wendy asked.

  “Yeah, if she can find a place to buy. She comes into some inheritance next month and has been looking for a place with good land.”

  Everyone was silent for a while. Then Marcus leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as a slow smile formed.

  “You know, I think I know of the perfect place.”

  11

  Grace took a quick nap, then pulled out her secondhand laptop and continued searching properties.

  By the time she was hungry again, she had a new list of possibilities. Even though there were fewer than a dozen on her list, she was encouraged and decided to walk to the small restaurant at the end of the street for dinner.

  The two-story gray building sat directly across the street from the beach entrance. Deciding she didn’t want to eat at a table by herself, surrounded by families and couples, she took a spot at the bar that overlooked a small grassy area outside.

  She ordered herself a bowl of soup and a club sandwich, then sipped her sweet tea while playing with her phone. It was one of the last presents her parents had given her. The bill was now her responsibility, but still, she doubted she could live without it at this point. It was her lifeline to the outside world, something normal in her messed up life.

  “On vacation?” The smooth male voice jolted her out of her daze as she was reading a news article.

  Looking up, she took in the man sitting one seat down from her. He appeared to be in his late twenties, jet-black hair, dark eyes, extremely white teeth, and a smooth smile that tried to hint at friendliness. Instantly, she was on guard.

  “Nope.” She tried to go back to her phone, but he moved closer to her.

  “I am, this is my first time here.” He waved the bartender over. “I’ll have a scotch and water. Oh, and…” He looked at her drink. “Long Island ice tea?” She shook her head.

  “Sweet tea,” she corrected. “I’m good…” She didn’t get anything else out before he asked the bartender to get her another tea.

  Setting her phone down, she tried to exhibit as much patience as she could muster up.

  “You’re not from around here.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

  “No.” She smiled slightly.

  His eyes narrowed. “Kentucky?” She nodded, not wanting to give too much away. “I knew it. I can always tell one of my own.” His smile grew, and she felt a shiver up her spine. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him that bothered her. “What are you doing all the way down here?” he asked after the bartender set the drinks down in front of them.

  Since her glass was still half-full, she pushed the new glass aside and continued sipping from the first one.

  “Business,” she finally answered after carefully planning what she would and wouldn’t tell a stranger.

  “Not a bad place to do business.” He glanced around, then returned his eyes to her. “What kind of business?”

  She shrugged. “Little of this, little of that.” She turned slightly away and pushed her empty plate towards the bartender as he walked by. “Can I get my check?” she asked.

  “Sure,” the bartender said, his eyes glancing over the man sitting next to her. She could tell the man was wondering if she needed any help. She smiled at him and silently assured him that she could handle herself.

  “Leaving so soon? The night’s just getting started.” The man downed the rest of his drink in one quick swallow, then motioned for another.

  “Yes, work calls.” She started to stand up, but the man was quick and stood, blocking her from leaving.

  “Why don’t we head across the street. I hear the Red Bar is a little more…”—he glanced around to the families eating around them—“up to speed.”

  She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She moved to go around him, but he remained, blocking her path. “I’d hate to have to pull out my mace,” she warned softly. “Or have the bartender call someone to remove you from my path.”

  The man’s eyes turned and for a moment, she thought she glimpsed behind his mask. He had a quick look of appreciation, which changed his entire persona.

  Instead of speaking, he stepped back and let her pass. She walked to the end of the bar and paid the bartender in cash.

  “If you change your mind, I’m here through the end of the week,” the man said, sending her a wink from his stool at the bar.

  Without saying anything, she turned and walked out into the night.

  Instead of heading directly home, she walked through the small shops next door, keeping an eye out for the man, just in case.

  When she was sure he wasn’t stalking her, she made her way back to the house, checking behind her every few seconds.

  Making sure to lock the door behind her, she dumped her clothes on the floor in the bathroom and stepped into a cool shower.

  Leaning her head against the tile, she thought about how much she’d changed.

  Year ago, Grace wouldn’t have been able to stand up for herself. Let alone threaten someone.

  Yes, so much had changed.

  Her phone ringing pulled her from the shower early.

  Seeing the photo of her and Anna together that first night so long ago caused her to smile. Anna had been the only friend who’d stuck by her side through everything.

  Even Jillian, her best friend since grade school, had quickly turned her back on her when her parents had cut her off.

  “Hey.” She wrapped the towel around her more tightly as she walked into the bedroom.

  “Hey, so, how’s it going?” Anna sounded like she was eating something.

  “Good. Are you and Bryan celebrating having the place to yourselves?” she joked.

  “We miss you, but yes.” Anna laughed. “He’s moving his stuff in tomorrow.”

  Grace held in a sigh. She’d known the couple had wanted to move in together. It was one of the reasons she’d moved her plans up by a month.

  “I’m so excited for you.” It was the truth. Bryan was a really good guy.

  “So, how’d it go with Alan?” Her friend’s voice lowered and filled with concern.

  Grace took a deep breath and pulled on a tank top and shorts before answering. “Okay. I guess I had assumed he’d yell or at least be pissed.”

  “I told you he’d understand. He’s a good one, unlike Ronald and the other men my mother has chosen in her life. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m doing…” She thought about it and smiled. “Great. For the first time, I feel like I’m where I want to be.”

  “Go you.” Anna’s voice lightened. “Listen, I have to go, our food just arrived. Tell Alan hi. We’ll try to see you next month for your birthday.”

  “Okay, bye.” She hung up and dried her hair before braiding it and climbing into bed to fall asleep to a movie.

  When she couldn’t fall asleep right away, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she came across Alan’s name.

  Opening a text, she typed, deleted, retyped, deleted, then retyped her message.

  -How was dinner?

  She hit send before she could delete it one more time.

  Tossing her phone on the pillow beside her, she counted her heartbeats until she heard her phone chime.

  Rolling over, she smiled down at the screen.

  -Good, missed you.

  -Did you make it home okay?

  She typed and only had to wait a few seconds as he replied.

  -Nope, just about to head out now. Be home in 45.

  -Drive safe.

  -Will do, will you stop by tomorrow? Lunchtime?

  -Yes.

  She couldn’t stop the smile as she leaned back and waited as he typed.

  -Can’t wait to see you again. Sweet dreams.

  -Goodnight.

  She slid back down into bed with a big smile on her lips, her mind now filled with Alan, as it had been for the past year.
r />   * * *

  The following day around noon, Alan felt his heart kick in his chest when Grace walked through the doors. The sun streamed behind her as she entered.

  Her sundress today was a soft blue and as she sat down at the end of the bar, he wondered how she’d found material to match her eyes so perfectly.

  “Hi.” He leaned on the bar and just looked at her.

  “Hi.” Her smile grew.

  “You look beautiful.” He ran his eyes over her face once more. “Happy.”

  “I am.” Her chin rose slightly. “I have a few other properties on my list to check out. A total of ten now.”

  “On that note.” He reached below the bar and pulled out the folder Marcus had dropped off earlier that morning for Grace. “Take a look at this.” He slid the thick folder in front of her. “I told Marcus what you were looking for, since he’s in the business. He thought you’d be interested in this place.” She opened the folder and started going through the paperwork.

  “Is it up for sale?” she asked, glancing up at him.

  “Not yet, not officially. The Davidsons aren’t quite sure yet if they’re going to retire. But Marcus says they’re just waiting for the right person, someone who knows what they’re capable of.” He leaned on the bar again. “He did some work for them a few times in the past year. Mr. Davidson keeps threatening to retire and buy a boat to sail around the world.” Alan smiled. “He’s been threatening that for years. The Davidson’s place, Choctaw Winery, has been around for two generations. They don’t have kids of their own, and Marcus says the last time he was out there, they asked him to make some inquiries if he knew someone in the business who’d be looking to buy them out. They made a point to tell him they didn’t want to sell it to some big company who’d run it into the ground, but someone with…soul.” He chuckled remembering Marcus repeating the older man’s words.

  Grace smiled up at him. Her eyes had grown huge as she looked over the pictures in the file. “When can we drive out there?”

  “Marcus arranged for us to go tomorrow, if you are interested.”

  “I am.” She leaned closer to the file, her eyes running over every detail in the images. “How many—”

  Just then he was interrupted by an order. “Be back. I don’t know much,” he said moving away. “Marcus and Shelly were going to swing back by for lunch. Grab a booth; they should be here soon.” He nodded to the back tables. “I’ll take my lunch when they show up.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he sat down with Grace as she chatted with Marcus about the land.

  “It sounds perfect,” she told him after he ordered his food. He could see the excitement in her eyes and hear it in her tone. “There’s everything I wanted. The house is even perfect, a little bigger than I’d expected, but…” She was talking quickly and was obviously very excited. She turned the pictures around so he could see them. He’d looked over them before she’d arrived and had even been out to the place a few times himself, during one of the winery’s yearly fall festivals. “It’s perfect.” She sighed. “I’m trying not to get too excited.” She leaned back, then sat forward again as she turned the pictures around and looked at them again.

  He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. “If you want, we can drive by later, when I’m off work.”

  “That would be perfect” she said eagerly. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “I can let the Davidsons know. If they’re available, they can show you around.” Marcus pulled out his phone.

  Grace glanced over at him, her eyebrows up in question.

  “I get off around three.” Alan nodded. “It should give us plenty of time to look around.”

  Grace leaned over and hugged him, then turned around and hugged Marcus as she laughed with joy.

  He could get used to the sound and the sight of her happy like this. She actually glowed for the remainder of the meal.

  Since his shift would be over in two hours, she decided to sit in the booth and read over everything she could find on the Davidson’s place while he worked.

  When Wendy came to relieve him, he filled her in quickly on what was going on.

  “Sounds wonderful. Choctaw Winery is one of the best locally. We carry their wines. They’re really popular around here. They have this holiday wine that is to die for.” Wendy smiled. “Have fun and good luck.”

  Wendy had hugged Grace before they left.

  As he helped Grace into his Jeep, she stopped and looked at him. “They really are the best kind of family.” She tilted her head. “The Graytons.”

  Alan chuckled. “Yup, they like you. Adopted you like they did me.”

  Her smile fell slightly. “What about your family? You mentioned your father,” she said as he got behind the wheel, “but not your mother.”

  “She went her own direction, years ago.” He started the Jeep up, but she turned to him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “The military filled the hole, for a while.” He smiled. “Then I found the Graytons. More like, they found me.” He chuckled.

  The trip out to the winery was filled with stories of how the family had taken him in and made him feel welcome.

  It wasn’t a long drive, only about twenty minutes, but since it was such a nice day, he took the back roads slowly so they could enjoy.

  They turned off the road, and he parked in front of the huge iron gates.

  “We can walk from here.” He jumped out and helped her out of the Jeep. Her eyes had grown huge as she took everything in.

  “Wow.” It was nothing more than a whisper. “It’s bigger than I imagined.”

  He could see fear creep behind her eyes, so he took her hand and started walking through the gates with her, down the long dirt road towards the buildings at the end of the oak-lined lane.

  12

  Grace half expected the place to fall short of her expectations. Instead, they shot through the roof, from the massive iron gate entrance, with beautiful wine barrel lights on either side, to the dirt lane lined with massive moss-covered oaks.

  There was a large brown building off to the side, with the winery’s sign over the doorway. Grace knew instantly that it was the showpiece of the business and guessed that most of the actual work was done somewhere else on the property. There was a smaller building next to it with a sign that said Gift Shop above the door. The large covered porch was filled with rocking chairs, tables, and wicker chairs. More than a dozen people hung around the building. Some sat at the tables, enjoying a glass of wine, while others walked around the building, looking at brochures.

  “There are tours,” Alan added. “They run every day. Along with wine tastings.” He motioned towards the main building at the end of the dirt drive. “We’ll meet the Davidsons at the main house.”

  Her eyes traveled to the classic southern-style home at the very end of the driveway. It had a dark metal roof and six thick white posts holding up the massive porch. Stairs led to a set of double glass doors. Gas lamps hung on either side of the door as large fans circled slowly, cooling an older couple who were enjoying the rocking chairs below.

  “Welcome.” The older man got up, then turned and helped his wife stand. “You must be Grace.”

  She held out her hand as she climbed the stairs. “Yes.” She smiled, feeling nerves rush through her. “Thank you for taking the time to meet us tonight.”

  “Our pleasure. This is my wife, Carrie.” He motioned to the woman. “I’m Charles.”

  “Grace Hamilton.” She’d thought about not using her last name, but then quickly dismissed the idea. This was Florida, not Kentucky. Her family’s reach was long, but she didn’t need to hide it from everyone.

  “Marcus has told us a little about you.” Carrie motioned to the swing across from the chairs. Grace and Alan moved over and sat down. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Some of that would be lovely.” She nodded to the pitcher of lemonade on the small table.

  The
woman poured them each a glass, then leaned back.

  “Your family is Hamilton?” she asked when she was done.

  “Yes, but this”—Grace glanced around—“would be on my own.”

  The couple looked at one another and Grace felt fear leap in her chest.

  “Good,” Charles finally said, smiling at her. “We’ve avoided selling out to companies like your family’s for generations. My grandfather almost lost everything during the prohibition days. Swore he’d never sell out after he fought to keep it all.”

  “We had to fight them off a few years back during the recession.” Carrie chuckled and took a sip of her own drink.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you selling?” Grace set her glass down and glanced around. Even more people had arrived. A tour bus was parked at the end of the drive in the small parking lot, and group of tourists was being led into the brown building.

  “Carrie and I”—the older man reached for his wife’s hand—“we’re getting up there in age, though it may not seem so to you.” He winked at her. “We’d like to retire. Not that we don’t enjoy all this, but there are some things we’d like to do in our old age.”

  “Travel,” Carrie chimed in. “We always talked about going to Italy. We put off so much of our lives.” The older woman sighed. “Not that we didn’t enjoy it, but it’s time we stopped worrying about the business and started enjoying the fruits of our labor.”

  “So, business is still good?” Grace asked.

  “It is,” Charles replied. “For a small winery in Florida, we do enough business to stay busy, and along with the tours and tourist, we pull in enough to stay afloat. We can talk numbers later.” He waved his hand. “How about a tour?”

  “I’d love one.” She stood up.

  “We’ll start with the house, since it’s the heart of the land,” Charles suggested.

  An hour later, Grace was trying not to show too much excitement. Not only was the house perfect, but the winery facilities were top-notch and more perfect than she could have imagined.

 

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