by Joleen James
Kaiden had taken up residence in the guest room. She'd let him have the room, even though it had a queen bed. Putting Kaiden in the pink girly room of her childhood wasn't an option. She'd thought the big bed would make him happy, but he'd still been sullen when he'd gone to bed around ten. Even the ever-cheerful Lola hadn't coaxed a smile from her son. If she did nothing else this summer, she was going to put the smile back on Kaiden's face.
Danielle glanced at her watch. It was after eleven now and she hadn't found the time to speak with Nico today. Well, it was too late now. According to Lola, Nico got up early. He'd probably gone to bed hours ago.
Her body ached. Her heart ached. She hadn't counted on having such an emotional reaction to the house, to her father being gone. Everything in the house reminded her of her parents. This afternoon she'd sat in her father's office. She'd opened his humidor and breathed in the lingering scent of the Montecristo Cuban cigars he loved so much. The aroma overpowered her, brought tears to her eyes, the first she'd shed for him since his death. She'd cried for her father, for the relationship they'd never have. Had her father been happy with the choices he'd made? He'd been a stranger to her, the vineyard always coming first. She'd given up trying to please him years ago. Why hadn't he tried harder to include her? Why hadn't she tried harder to forgive him? Now, it was too late.
She'd spent the day battling her sorrow and anger, finding no answers to her questions. Her nerves were shot. A bath sounded good. Danielle went to the window to close the curtains before undressing, but stopped when she noticed the light on at Nico's place. She hadn't been surprised to learn that Nico lived in the gardener's cottage.
Why wouldn't he? Nico was the son Phillip never had. Jealousy ate at her insides. Did Nico know the truth about the last summer they were all together? Did he know about the secret affair that took his parents from him and caused her parents to divorce? If not, did she want to tell him, or was it best to let the past stay in the past?
How would Nico react to her news that she intended to sell the vineyard? Would he be happy, wanting to buy the vineyard himself? Or would he be angry? She didn't know him well enough to gauge his possible reaction.
She was about to turn away from the window when Nico stepped outside. Darkness and distance kept her from seeing his features. For a minute she watched his silhouette as he moved around his porch. Was he worried about the meeting tomorrow? Is that why he wasn't asleep? Wanting to end the worry for both of them, Danielle left her room. She tiptoed down the hall, careful not to wake Kaiden or Lola, and let herself out the back door.
***
Nico lowered himself into the porch rocker. Man, what a day. He released his breath slowly, his eyes on Whitney House, on the illuminated window of Danielle's childhood bedroom. Was she in the room? Or had she moved into the guest room or taken Phillip's room? After all, she was the lady of the house now.
The thought landed like a stone in his gut.
Slowly, he rocked back and forth. A light breeze graced them tonight, and all around him he heard the whisper of the grape leaves; a sound he couldn't give up, wouldn't give up, not without a fight.
What did Danielle have planned for the vineyard? Would she take up the reins, take over for Phillip? Working for Danielle would be tough. She didn't know the first thing about the vineyard. Phillip had put the grapes in when she'd been twelve or thirteen. She'd left here at fifteen. He prayed she'd want to sell to him. Whitney Vineyards was more than a job to him; the vineyard was home. His last memories of his parents were here.
It still hurt that Phillip had cut him out of the will. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that Danielle would walk away and leave him everything. Why would she? She was sitting on a potential gold mine. Yet, he'd always believed that Phillip would leave him something, a share in the profits, anything. The old man knew how much he loved the place.
Nico stared into the darkness, his mind alive with his problems. The crunch of gravel sounded on the path. Danielle. Even from here he could tell it was her, her blonde hair a bright beacon in the darkness. He rose, watching her approach, disgusted at the way his pulse revved up. What was it about her? She'd grown into a beautiful woman, but he'd always known she would. Even as a teenager she'd possessed a raw sexiness, a sultry beauty he'd seen in few women.
"Hi, Nico." She paused at the base of the porch steps. "I know it's late, but I thought we should talk."
"Come up," he said.
Danielle joined him on the porch. She slipped into the rocker beside his.
Taking her time, she leaned her head back. "I'd forgotten how the stars look here. It's like someone tossed a bucket of glitter into the sky."
"What's on your mind, Danielle?"
"You know about the will," she said, the words a statement, not a question. Her attention centered on him now. "I have to live here for ninety days."
"I know."
"Any idea why?" she asked. "I've been trying to come up with a reason. Is he trying to torture me one last time?"
Her words set him on edge. Phillip didn't deserve her scorn. "You know his reason. He's hoping you'll get to know the vineyard."
"Why now, after he's dead?" she asked. "He's barely given me the time of day for years. Doesn't it seem strange to you?"
"Your father thinks you belong here."
"What a load of crap," she said, a hard note to her tone. "I don't belong here. I never did."
He didn't reply because deep down he prayed she was right.
"I know you were close to my father. He made that clear in the will. You'll inherit if I walk away. Well, I'm not walking away, but I am going to sell as soon as I can. Germaine Cellars has already approached me."
She was going to sell. Did she think she was delivering bad news? He bit back his smile.
"Don't sell to Germaine," he said. "Sell to me."
"You're interested?" She cocked her head to the side.
"Very."
"I wondered if you would be." A tired sigh left her lips. She leaned back in the rocker, setting the chair in motion. "Can you meet market price?"
His stomach tightened. Right now his finances were in a tangled mess. He wondered how much he should tell her. He decided to play it safe, for now. "By the time you put the vineyard on the market, I'll be ready to buy."
"Thank goodness, because I'm not staying here one day longer than I have to." She stood.
She seemed so cold, so unattached to the vineyard, so unmoved by Phillip's death. He had a sudden, burning need to know why. "What happened between you and your father?"
"Nothing I want to talk about."
"Your father's last words were for you. He said, 'tell Danielle I love her. I'm sorry.'"
She turned abruptly, and walked to the porch railing, her eyes on Whitney House. "Yeah, well, he had a lot to be sorry for."
"He left you the vineyard." Nico came to his feet and walked to her. "Doesn't that say something to you?"
"It says manipulation."
"Manipulation?" he echoed incredulously. "This isn't a game. Phillip wanted you to come here."
"Well, I'm here." She turned to face him, her hands on her hips, looking like a woman ready to do battle. "But he can't force me to learn the business. I'm not interested in staying, but I will sell to you if you can put together financing. After all, the place really belongs to you, doesn't it?"
Before he could reply, she pivoted away. She bolted down the porch steps. Nico watched her until she disappeared from view.
He waited for elation to fill him. Danielle was going to sell. It's what he wanted, what he'd hoped for, yet he didn't feel like celebrating. She'd seemed proud and stubborn, but underneath he suspected she was broken and afraid. What had happened to her since she'd left the vineyard?
He gave himself a mental shake. Why did he care? Right now, she was a means to an end. He never should have asked her about Phillip. He didn't want to alienate her, and Phillip was obviously a sore subject.
No, he needed Daniell
e on his side. It would be in his best interest to keep her happy during the next ninety days. One wrong move on his part and she might sell to Germaine Cellars. The bigger winery could outbid him, but he was the sentimental favorite. Selling to him ensured that the long-time employees would have jobs, and that Lola could stay on at Whitney House. He'd let Danielle know these things and more.
He prayed he could untangle his finances from his ex-wife's before Danielle put the vineyard up for sale. Whitney Vineyards was his home, and he wasn't about to let Danielle sell it out from under him.
Chapter Two
The combination of the silence and the strange surroundings pulled Danielle from a fitful sleep. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Eight a.m. Her eyes wide open now, her mind clicked on, her thoughts going to Nico and their talk last night.
He was stronger, more in control than the boy she remembered. Her experiences with him the year they'd both lived at the vineyard had been limited. The times she'd actually spoken with him he'd been aloof and distant. She remembered he'd been a handful that year, getting into trouble -- nothing major -- things like speeding tickets, sneaking out with girls, getting into fights. Sun Grove was a small town and they'd attended the local high school with Danielle in tenth grade and Nico a senior.
She'd been so in love with him, unrequited puppy love. He'd been her first crush and her first kiss. Did he remember that kiss? She'd wanted to comfort him after his parents' funeral.
Her fingers drifted to her mouth, as if it were only yesterday. She'd melted against Nico, hugging him, wanting to ease his sorrow. His pain had echoed her own, the ache unbearable. She remembered everything from the way he'd shifted his head, to the anguished look on his face just before he'd captured her lips in a kiss. As an adult, she understood the kiss was an act of desperation on Nico's part. He'd been grieving. In her own naïve way, she'd taken advantage of him.
With a groan, Danielle threw back the covers and got up. Cool air blew from the air conditioner. She shivered. She didn't want to think about the past, about what made Nico tick. He'd been an angry teenager when he'd arrived in Sun Grove, but last night he'd seemed different. He'd grown up and so had she. She had to find a way to get along with him while she was here. After that, she could leave and never look back. She could open a little book store/coffee house, a small business that would feed her and Kaiden. All she wanted was peace.
Until then, she'd try and stay out of Nico's way. He was right about one thing; she knew next to nothing about grapes or wine. When her father had begun planting the vines, her thoughts hadn't been on the land or the fruit; her mind had been on school and boys.
Danielle quickly showered then dressed in khaki pants and a simple white blouse, hoping she looked professional enough for her meeting with the employees. Before she made it to the kitchen she could smell coffee, the scent rich and welcoming.
"Morning, Lola," she called out cheerfully when she entered the kitchen. Very little had changed inside the house, and the kitchen was no exception. The cherry red Formica countertops were the same. Old fashioned linoleum in a black and white checked pattern covered the floor. On the wall above the stove a clock in the shape of a rooster kept time. The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and coffee, taking her back to the happy times in her childhood, times spent with Lola.
Lola swung around, the coffee carafe in her hand. "Look who's up. As I recall you never showed your face until noon." She chuckled.
"I couldn't sleep. I've got too much on my mind." Danielle went to the cupboard and removed a large mug that said, I'm a wine-o and proud of it. She passed the mug to Lola who filled it and handed it back.
Danielle took a sip. "Thanks."
Lola smiled. "How's your room? Are you getting settled?"
"Yes. The room's a blast from the past." Danielle took a seat at the table. "I can't believe I ever liked pink that much."
"It's pink, all right." Lola laughed. "I made some of my granola yesterday, fresh just for you. Interested?"
Danielle remembered Lola's granola. She'd practically survived on it as a teenager, eating the sweet, crunchy oats with milk, sprinkling it on yogurt or ice cream. "Thanks, but I'm not hungry yet. Maybe later." Her appetite had been non-existent for months now due to all the worrying. "I spoke to Nico last night."
"And?" Lola slid into the chair beside her and poured herself a cup of coffee.
"And, I don't know." Danielle paused, unsure of where to begin. "He's different, older certainly, but there's something else. He's very attached to the vineyard. I wasn't prepared for that. He took my place after I left." An emptiness she hadn't anticipated settled inside her.
"Oh, honey." Lola reached over to pat Danielle's hand. "I'm sorry for what you went through. And you're right about Nico; he loves the vineyard, maybe even more than your father did. His last memories of his parents are here. Your father couldn't have run the vineyard or grown the grapes without him. Soon you'll see that you need him, too. Give things a chance. Work with Nico. This place is big enough for both of you."
Working with Nico was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't tell Lola, couldn't tell the housekeeper she was going to sell. Lola was certain to hear the news once she told the other employees today, but she couldn't face the fear or disappointment she'd see in Lola's eyes. In Lola's mind, Danielle was home where she belonged. At least if Nico bought the vineyard she wouldn't have to worry about Lola having a home. Nico would never turn her away, of that much she was certain.
Danielle pushed back in the chair. She needed time to think. She needed air. "I'm going to go and visit Nana's rose garden and then make my way to the office. Will you listen for Kaiden and watch him for me until I get back?"
Lola nodded. "Sure. I'm looking forward to spending time with Kaiden."
Nico's daughter wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Dressed in a blue nightgown, her feet bare, she came to a stop when she spied Danielle.
Maria had a definite case of bed-head, her black shoulder length hair in a tangle. But it was her eyes that Danielle noticed most. A dark chocolate brown, Maria had Nico's mother's exotic almond shaped eyes. Maria's resemblance to Nico's mother was striking, instantly reminding Danielle of her father's obsession with Nico's mother.
"Maria." Lola gestured the girl forward. "You remember Mrs. Rankin from yesterday?"
"Hello, Maria." Danielle smiled at Nico's daughter, but inside her stomach churned. "Please, call me Danielle."
"Hi," Maria replied, but she didn't return Danielle's smile. Her forehead puckered as if seeing Danielle bothered her.
"I look after Maria while Nico works." Lola went to Maria and placed an arm around her shoulders. "She's an early riser, just like me."
"I can see that." Danielle drained the last of her coffee. "I'll be back soon."
"Enjoy the roses," Lola said.
"Thanks. I will." Danielle left the house by the kitchen door. She took the path to the rose garden. She wanted to spend some calming time with her Nana's roses before venturing out into the vineyard. She'd often played in the rose garden as a child. The garden held happy memories and she needed all the happy memories she could get right now.
A robotic noise caused Danielle to turn, and she watched the sprinkler heads appear, followed by a whoosh as the water came on. Danielle jumped out of the way to avoid being doused.
A low laugh erupted behind her. She swung around, surprised to find she wasn't alone.
"Good morning," an older Hispanic man called out.
"Hello."
Dressed all in tan, he wore a straw hat. She guessed his age to be around sixty. In his hand he held pruning shears. A basket of wilted roses sat next to his feet.
Danielle bent to inhale the scent of a glorious crimson red and silvery white rose. The sweet scent took her right back to her nana. She remembered Nana's kisses, her homemade donuts coated with sugar and cinnamon, the fun they'd had cutting out paper dolls. A sudden sharp longing for her nana seized h
er. Her nana had lovingly tended the roses herself, teaching Danielle the names of each bush.
"I remember the name of this one," she said. "It's called Fire 'n Ice."
"Yes." He nodded and smiled. "The roses were very important to Mr. Whitney. I take good care of them."
"I can see that," Danielle said. "The grounds are gorgeous and even more beautiful than I remember. What's your name?"
"Juan." He cut a rose, carefully removing the thorns before handing it to her. "For you."
"I'm Danielle." She accepted the flower. "Thank you, Juan." Danielle inhaled the perfume of the rose before continuing on her walk. She left the yard and made her way to the grapes. Here the scenery changed. Rows of grapevines filled the landscape as far as the eye could see.
She passed two young Hispanic men as they pruned the vines.
"Good morning, Mrs. Rankin," one of the men called. The other man raised his gloved hand in greeting.
She nodded. "Hello." Their smiles were wide and welcoming, something she hadn't expected. How much did they know about her? Did they wonder why she'd never visited her father? Did they see her as some kind of gold-digger?
When she spied Nico hunkered down pruning the underside of a vine, she did an about-face and headed back in the direction she'd come. She didn't want to talk to him. Her conversation with him last night had left her feeling raw and uncertain about her decision to sell.
When she reached the driveway, she started toward the offices. She figured the vineyard headquarters was about a fifteen-minute walk. Already the sun was hot, making her skin moist. She wished she had a straw hat like the workers wore.
