Second Chance In Stonecreek

by Michelle Major

  Marcus glanced around the tasting room, which was flooded with morning light. “Construction is almost complete. We need to determine what your role in the company is going to be moving forward, so you and Trevor will have to find some common ground.”

  “I haven’t committed to staying,” Griffin said.

  “Harvest needs you,” Marcus answered simply.

  “You’ve been talking to my mother.” Griffin picked up the can of stain he was using to deepen the color on the wood planks that covered the back wall.

  “No, although I imagine she’s of the same opinion.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You have an affinity for the vines, Griffin. It can’t be denied.”

  “I have other jobs in the pipeline,” Griffin countered, dipping a paintbrush into the stain. “In fact, one of the developers I work with in Seattle has a new project starting next month. He needs a general contractor.”

  Marcus slammed his hand on the hewed wood of the top of the bar. It was a massive outburst for Marcus, who was one of the most even-tempered men Griffin had ever met. “You’re a winemaker, Griffin Stone.”

  “I never got that chance.” Griffin concentrated on applying even rows of stain to the wood, focusing so that his hand didn’t tremble. Marcus’s words brought up long-buried emotions. “Dad kicked me out of here and we both know he had good reason for it.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Griffin saw Marcus smooth his hand over the bar, as if making amends for accosting it moments earlier. “We both know you’re different now. Prove it.”

  Something inside Griffin came to life at the challenge. It had been his dream while spending his childhood exploring the neat rows of vines his father had planted. With every expansion of the vineyard, Griffin’s mind had exploded with ideas and plans for the future. Until the animosity between him and his dad had poisoned his aspirations.

  And there it was. The old anger, the fear and doubt that he wasn’t worthy. That he’d mess things up, as he had so many times as a kid.

  He’d tagged along during every stage of the growing season, soaking in all he could about the life cycle of the vines and how the grapes were affected by nature. He’d loved both the science and the art of it, but nothing he’d done had been good enough for his father. He couldn’t handle the delicate fruit. He wasn’t careful enough. He got in the way.

  It had been different with Trevor, who back then could have cared less about the family business. But Dad had encouraged Trevor whenever he’d showed any interest, even with Griffin standing on the sidelines, chomping at the bit to be involved.

  His father’s favoritism had tainted Griffin, both toward his brother and Harvest Vineyards. He still couldn’t understand the point of it. As his mother had said, Dave Stone had ended up with a good life, a successful business and the respect of his peers. But he’d never left Stonecreek, other than quick business trips. Maybe that was the point. Griffin’s dad hadn’t been able to choose his life, while Griffin had. He’d joined the army, seen the world, served his country and become his own man. Dad had returned to the farm he’d hated growing up, and spent his days working the land, something he’d never planned for or wanted.

  All that history was another set of complications, just like the obstacles keeping him and Maggie apart.

  But Griffin had a choice. He could let the past define him and allow his doubts to win, or he could choose a different way. A way forward.

  “Trevor doesn’t want me here any more than Dad did,” he said, still not quite able to let go of the past.

  “Make it work,” Marcus said simply.

  Griffin huffed out a laugh and dipped the paintbrush into the can of stain again. “Why does this conversation feel like some kind of vintner version of a Jedi mind trick?”

  Marcus leaned forward on the bar. “You belong at Harvest.”

  “Your confidence means a lot,” Griffin admitted, drawing in a breath. “Do you think it would help if I reminded Trevor that the reason I returned here in the first place was to attend his wedding?”

  Marcus shook his head but his eyes danced with amusement. “Doubtful.” He straightened. “That reminds me, I’m leaving early today to attend a predebate rally for Maggie.”

  “There’s an actual debate?”

  “Your cousin is insisting on it to rattle her. He doesn’t play fair.”

  “It seems strange to think of political machinations in Stonecreek.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Is there a chance Maggie could lose the election?”

  Marcus shrugged. “Unfortunately yes. According to Brenna, she’s working her butt off to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Good for her,” Griffin murmured.

  “She needs all the support she can get,” Marcus said with a pointed look.

  “I need to get back to staining. I’ll think about what you said and try with Trevor again. That’s all I can offer.” Griffin dropped his gaze, wishing he had something more to give.

  * * *

  Maggie brushed an invisible speck of lint from her suit jacket that evening as she stood behind the curtain of the high school’s packed auditorium.

  “Standing room only out there,” Brenna told her.

  “Slow night in town,” Maggie answered with a forced laugh. It was still difficult to believe so many people cared about the mayor’s race. The first time she’d been elected, after her grandmother had announced her impending retirement, Maggie had sponsored a few pancake breakfasts and met with most of the local businesses and civic organizations. Then she’d been elected, running unopposed, as if holding the office was her right.

  She had no problem proving she deserved to be reelected but Jason’s campaign felt weirdly personal, like he was more interested in taking her down than building himself up. Maybe it was a reflection of the state of politics on a national level, or the town’s fascination with her personal life over the past few months, but Maggie didn’t like it.

  Marilee Haggard, the town council member who was moderating the debate, announced each of the candidates and gave a brief rundown of their respective résumés.

  “You’ve got this,” Brenna whispered, then Maggie walked out, smiling and shaking hands with Jason Stone as they met in the middle of the stage.

  They took their places behind podiums that had been set up on either side of the stage, angled so that they faced both each other and the audience.

  “I have to admit I’m relieved at the handshake,” Jason said into the microphone, glancing between Maggie and the crowd. “I was a little afraid the mayor would expect me to bow, given that she’s a Spencer and I’m just a peon member of the Stone family.”

  There was a smattering of laughter from the audience and Maggie felt color rise to her cheeks. “I’m not like that,” she said, bending toward her microphone, “and I think everyone here knows it, Jason.”

  “Do they?” Jason threw up his hands in an overly dramatic gesture. Seriously, had the guy been involved in the theater department in high school? “Because you’ve made it clear by your actions that we’re not good enough for you. Ask my cous—”

  “Can we keep on point with election issues?” Maggie asked, hating the thread of annoyance she couldn’t keep out of her voice. She didn’t want people to see her as a shrew, but how many times did she have to defend her decision not to marry Trevor before this town let it go?

  Marilee nodded. “Of course. The first issue we’re going to tackle tonight involves funding for essential services and emergency management. Jason won the coin toss backstage, so he’ll answer first.”

  As Maggie listened to Jason make his points, she scanned the audience to gauge the reaction to the patented lies he was spewing. Her opponent was good, she’d give him that much. He skirted the truth about how things were being handled currently and stayed vague on the changes he’d make to i
mprove it.

  Her dad, grandmother, Morgan and Ben were in the front row. Dad watched Jason with an unmistakable scowl, and Maggie wondered how much her father even understood the issues in town. So much of his life was spent consumed by his art, with occasional moments of parental involvement. He was getting better, she’d admit, and appreciated his efforts to stay connected with Morgan and Ben.

  Grammy, on the other hand, shook her head and made little huffs of disapproval, her razor-sharp gaze snapping between Jason and Maggie. Maggie almost expected her to rush the stage and tackle Jason outright to shut him up. Morgan and Ben both looked bored out of their minds, which Maggie expected. Brenna and Marcus sat behind them and... She sucked in a sharp breath. Griffin occupied the chair next to Marcus.

  How had she not seen him immediately? As if sensing her gaze, his attention shifted from his cousin to her and he flashed a quick half smile.

  “Maggie?” She blinked and glanced at Marilee. “Did you want to respond to the question?” the woman asked.

  “Um...yes... I—”

  “Or is it beneath you to actually concern yourself with issues that matter to this town?” Jason asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

  Maggie felt her temper flare as a disapproving murmur of voices filled the room.

  “This town matters to me a great deal,” she said directly to her opponent. “So much so that I returned here as soon as I graduated college to dedicate my time and energy to it.”

  Jason nodded. “Young and inexperienced. You admit it.”

  “Enough.” She held up a hand. Yes, she’d been groomed to lead Stonecreek, but Maggie had never taken her place in the community for granted. “People here know me.” She looked out to the audience and, while she didn’t let her gaze drift to Griffin’s, she saw him nodding as if encouraging her to finally stand up for herself. “I’ve focused on the arts as a growth factor for tourism, spearheaded the plans for a dedicated community center building and managed to hold property taxes at the current rate. Just this week I met with the owners of the local businesses to discuss a new marketing campaign to bring visitors here during winter months.” She pointed a finger at Jason. “How long have you lived in Stonecreek?”

  He stiffened and snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “I grew up here. You know that.”

  “But you left for college on the East Coast, correct?”

  “So what?”

  “You’ve been back a year now?” she demanded.

  “I have vast experience in the world,” he countered. “It adds to my plans for the town.”

  “About those plans,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You told everyone that you’d give a tax break to any business that’s been established for at least five years. Actually, only the council has the power to vote on business tax laws. In my experience as mayor...” She paused, then added, “Emphasis on the word experience since I’m the only candidate who has experience in local government.”

  “That doesn’t—”

  She held up a hand. “Do not interrupt me. You had your time. This is mine. A campaign promise is only as good as your ability to follow through on it. I’m a proponent of feasible growth and realistic change...”

  Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “You got the job because of your grandma and everyone knows it. There hasn’t been someone strong enough to stand up to the Spencers until me.”

  “Being strong isn’t the same as bullying people,” Maggie said clearly into the microphone. “You’ve spent more time taking jabs at my character and personal life than understanding what makes this town work and what the residents need.”

  “Are we ready for the next question?” Marilee asked cheerfully.

  “I understand that the mayor should have the best interests of all residents in mind,” Jason said, ignoring the moderator’s question. “Not just the people in her own social circles.”

  “I don’t do that,” Maggie said immediately.

  “Every decision you make benefits your family and your grandmother’s circle of cronies.”

  “That isn’t true.” Embarrassment washed through Maggie. She’d taken her grandmother’s advice on so many aspects of the job. Only recently had she begun to question whether Grammy truly wanted to help Maggie do what was right for all facets of the town’s population.

  “As far as your personal life...” Jason continued. “In a place like Stonecreek, character counts for a lot. It seems to me—” he looked out to the audience “—as well as to a number of other people, that you were willing to marry into my family like some people enter into a business merger. What kind of moral compass does that exhibit?”

  “Trevor and I care about each other but made the decision together that the marriage wouldn’t work,” Maggie said, hating that she was trotting out her dirty laundry for public consumption once again. “It had nothing to do with my position as mayor.”

  “Such a pat answer,” Jason said. “But no one around here believes it, Maggie. Everything you do is planned and controlled, most of it by your ever-present grandmother.”

  “Don’t bring Grammy into this,” Maggie said on a hitch of breath.

  Marilee stood. “I really must insist—”

  “Then explain why it happened. How can we believe you won’t—”

  “He cheated on me,” Maggie blurted and heard gasps of shock from the audience. She glanced at the front row to where her father looked furious, her grandmother incredulous. Morgan and Ben both stared at her with their mouths wide-open.

  She couldn’t bear to look at Griffin at that moment. Yes, he’d encouraged her to tell the truth, but she knew he hadn’t meant in this kind of a public forum.

  Trevor would be blindsided and Jana humiliated once again.

  She wiped at her eyes and glared at Jason. “Are you happy now?” she asked into the microphone.

  “I...” He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”

  “Because it was none of your business,” she told him, then turned to the audience. “It was no one’s business. For the last time, I’m sorry all of you were so very disappointed that Trevor and I didn’t marry. It was never my intention to let down the town. But things came to light just before the ceremony that made it impossible for me to go through with it.”

  Shame burned in her gut at having to relive the betrayal. She’d worn the mantle of Maggie Spencer, runaway bride, because it had seemed easier than being forever known as the cuckolded fiancée. Now she was going to get a taste of both.

  She drew in a breath and addressed Marilee. “I’m afraid we’ve gotten quite off track this evening.”

  The other woman nodded, her mouth opening and closing like a fish flailing on a dock.

  “I’ve also done all the talking I can stand for now,” Maggie said quietly. “I apologize that we didn’t make it through your questions. Email them to me and I’d be happy to offer my responses to be published so that everyone understands my position on things.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned and fled the auditorium.

  Chapter Six

  Griffin knocked on the door of Jim Spencer’s house later that night, unsure of what he was doing there. Even less certain when Morgan opened it.

  Her gaze dropped briefly when she saw him and pink stained her cheeks.

  “Is Maggie here?” he asked.

  “Morgan...” Jim’s deep voice came from the hallway. “Tell whoever it is that—” He stopped when he saw Griffin and shook his head. “Not tonight. She’s been through enough.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Griffin said quickly, holding out his hand to prevent Maggie’s sister from shutting the door in his face. “I want to make sure she’s okay. I texted and called but—”

  “She turned off her phone,” Morgan reported. “About a million texts came in after the meeting. Someone posted a video on YouTube.”
>
  Griffin cursed under his breath.

  “We had it taken down,” Jim told him.

  “She didn’t do anything wrong,” Griffin said, fisting his hands at his sides.

  “We know that,” her father answered.

  “So does my family,” Griffin offered, hitching his chin. “I talked to Trev and Mom after I left the high school. I didn’t want them blindsided by what happened.”

  “You don’t seem surprised at her revelation about Trevor and the wedding.” Jim crossed his arms over his big chest. For a guy pushing middle age and who often had his shirt buttoned wrong, Jim Spencer looked surprisingly strong. And intimidating.

  “Maggie told me a while ago.”

  “Did Jana know?” Jim demanded.

  Griffin shook his head. “She had no idea. I wanted Trevor to tell her but...”

  “What he put my daughter through was terrible,” Jim said, his voice icy, “on many levels. First the betrayal—”

  “On her wedding day,” Morgan snarled, eyes narrowed at Griffin. “My sister didn’t deserve that crap from him.”

  Jim put his hand on her shoulder. “Go tell her Griffin’s here. Maggie will decide whether he comes in or not.”

  “I hope she says no,” Morgan whispered, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

  No, Griffin wanted to shout. Don’t let her shut me out. He needed to see her. He needed to make her understand—

  “You have to take some blame in this,” Jim said.

  Griffin took a step back like the older man had punched him. “What do you mean?” He shook his head. “I wasn’t even here. I didn’t know he was cheating. Hell, I gave him a black eye at the church after Maggie told me what he’d done.”

  Jim inclined his head, nodding as if he approved of that bit of retribution. “But after you found out, you still let her take the blame.”

  “That was Maggie’s decision,” Griffin argued even as guilt speared through him. He should have told someone, forced her or Trevor to reveal the truth of what had caused the breakup. He hated how people treated her because they thought she’d walked away from his brother.