The Secret (Butler Ranch Book 3)

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The Secret (Butler Ranch Book 3) Page 10

by Heather Slade


  “Okay, I will, but you asked for this.”

  “I’m ready. Give me your worst.”

  “You lied to me yesterday, and then you were cold, and distant, and…rude.”

  “The trifecta.”

  “Why? If it’s none of my business, just say so, but don’t lie.”

  “You lied, and I didn’t like it either.”

  “When?”

  “At Demetria. When you said you didn’t want me to kiss you.”

  “It’s not the same, and don’t change the subject.”

  Naughton let her go and went back to the bacon. “I saw my father in Harmony yesterday, and it threw me.”

  “Enough that you lied to me.”

  “Yep.”

  “You said some other things last night. Alex said you wouldn’t remember, but…”

  “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  “You said we all might be in danger because of your brother.”

  “It’s hazy, but I do remember saying something like that.”

  “And?”

  “I’m going to be very honest with you now, Bradley, so pay attention.”

  “Okay.”

  “A lot of shit has happened in the valley in the last few months, not just with Calder, but with our family too. There are secrets that have come to light, but none of us—not Maddox, Brodie or I—believe we’ve uncovered all of them.”

  “Kade’s secrets?”

  “Yes. And when I saw my father yesterday, I realized it isn’t just Kade’s secrets. There’s something else going on that I know nothing about.”

  “And neither does Maddox?”

  “He doesn’t know any more than I do, or that Brodie knows.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask your father?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Fear maybe. Or not wanting to open up the wound of Kade’s death again.

  “If you saw your father out, somewhere you’d never expect him to be, and there was evidence he was hiding something, would you knock on the door and ask?”

  Bradley thought it over. “No,” she said after a couple of minutes. “I guess I wouldn’t.”

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore. We’ll have breakfast, I’ll take you home, and then come back around one, and we’ll go wine tasting this afternoon.”

  “I’d like that. I was thinking, the other day, that I should make a point of visiting some of the other wineries. I haven’t had much time to do it in the past.”

  “It’ll give me the chance to thank some of them for their help the last couple days.”

  “Do you think Alex and Maddox might like to go along?”

  Naughton smiled. This would be a first. In all the years Mad and Alex were together, he’d gone out with the two of them, but he’d never brought a date. This was a date, wasn’t it? He pulled out his phone and sent a text to both of them. Within seconds, Alex answered.

  “Did you ask?”

  “I did, and she answered. They’re in.”

  “Tell Naught your idea, Al,” Maddox said as they walked up the steps to the entrance of Pear Valley Winery.

  “I think we should host a dinner at Los Cab, to thank everyone who came out to help after the fire. It needs to be this week, before we get into the thick of harvest.”

  “That’s a great idea,” said Bradley. “I’ll help. When are you thinking?”

  “Wednesday. It won’t be hard to get the word out. Stave has been getting calls from people who want to know what they can do to help. That’s where I got the idea. To be honest, it was more Peyton’s idea than mine.”

  “That’s not much time.”

  Alex put her arm around Bradley’s shoulders. “Not to worry. Here in the valley, we know how to get it done.”

  “What do you think, Naught?” Maddox asked.

  “Sounds like a lot of work, but then we owe them, don’t we?”

  Maddox shook his head. “Come on, ya big grump. Let’s get these pretty young things some wine.”

  “I’m glad we did this,” Alex said while she and Bradley waited outside on the patio. “We needed a break from all the bad juju swirling around us.”

  “Good way to describe it.”

  “It’s like it blows in and then blows away, and as soon as you think it’s gone, it blows back.”

  Bradley could see Naughton standing near the bar inside. She watched as he stepped back while Maddox talked. He smiled and nodded his head, but it didn’t look like he said much.

  “Whatcha’ thinkin’ about?” Alex nudged her.

  “How quiet he is.”

  “Our Naught isn’t much of a talker.”

  Bradley shrugged.

  “You don’t agree?”

  “Sometimes he is.”

  “Ooh, I’m going to enjoy this. Tell me more,” Alex teased.

  “There’s nothing to tell really…” Bradley’s eyes hadn’t left Naughton, so when his expression changed—even his whole body—she watched it happen. “Uh, oh.”

  “What?” Alex asked, following Bradley’s line of sight. “Oh, shit. What the hell is he doing here?”

  “Who?”

  “Calder.”

  “Should we go in?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s wait a minute. Naughton won’t want you in there, that I’m sure of. Maddox knows I can’t stand Calder, and probably worries I’d make an even bigger mess of it.”

  Both Bradley and Alex gasped when they saw Naughton reach back and throw a punch at Calder. When she jumped up, Alex put her hand on Bradley’s arm. “Just wait,” she said.

  The next thing they saw from their outdoor vantage was a group holding Calder back, and then moving him away from the bar. No one seemed to be holding Naughton back.

  “What’s happening?” Bradley asked.

  “I think they’re throwing him out.”

  “Who?”

  “Calder. Definitely not Naughton.”

  At that moment, Naughton turned and looked at Bradley. The look he had on his face was the same one she’d seen at Sadie’s. It was like a curtain had lowered on the Naughton she was with this morning, and when it went back up, a different man was standing in his place.

  “I should go,” she said to Alex.

  “What? Why? Naughton is—”

  “He doesn’t want me here anymore.”

  “Where is this coming from, Bradley?”

  “Look at him.”

  He’d turned his back to them, but Bradley could see his shoulders slowly round. Something haunted him, and whatever it was, he wouldn’t want her to see.

  11

  The internal war raged inside him. In the last twenty-four hours, Bradley had seen him at his worst. A drunk first, and now, a brawler. Those weren’t the only two demons he kept buried inside.

  The day Kade first took Naughton to see the property on Old Creek Road, his oldest brother had called him out on those demons.

  “Feed the white wolf,” Kade said.

  Naughton had heard reference to the Cherokee legend from his brother many times while he was growing up. So often that he confronted Kade about it.

  “I don’t ever hear you say this shit to Maddox or Brodie. Why are you always on me?”

  “When I look at you sometimes, I feel as though I’m looking in a mirror. You hold it all inside.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “To hold it in, you have to keep yourself closed.”

  Neither spoke for several minutes, as they walked the dormant vineyards.

  “What keeps you up at night?” Kade asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you’re lying in bed, unable to sleep, what haunts you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what haunts me if you want me to.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “The day the man I am meets the man I could’ve become. That’s my private hell, Naughton.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the man you are.”

  �
�But what of the man I could’ve been?”

  But what of the man I could’ve been? He’d never truly understood those words until this moment— looking out from where he stood at the woman who made him want to be a better man.

  He saw her fear, her worry, but what else? Disdain? Or was he imagining it? He turned his back to her, afraid of what else he might see.

  You hold it all inside. Isn’t that what he was supposed to do? Keep the anger inside, where he couldn’t hurt anyone with it? It had escaped moments ago, when Calder got in his face and taunted him.

  If Kade had been with him today instead of Maddox, his oldest brother would’ve sensed his turmoil and stopped him. It wouldn’t have been the first time Kade prevented him from letting his anger loose.

  Feed the white wolf. The white wolf is filled with peace, love, hope, courage, humility, compassion, and faith. That’s how the legend went.

  When he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, Naughton closed his eyes and wished, for just a moment, that it was Kade’s hand. He missed him so much that sometimes he felt as though his chest would open from the pressure of his broken heart.

  “Naught,” came Mad’s voice. “He’s gone.”

  “I hate that sonuvabitch.”

  “You’re not alone in that.”

  “I’m alone in letting him provoke me to the point that I hit him.”

  “I’m sorry. What he said is complete bullshit. I should’ve stepped in.”

  Naughton turned to look at Maddox. “Why?”

  “I don’t know…because I’m the big brother. Because Kade would’ve.”

  “Kade wouldn’t have let me hit him.”

  “No, he wouldn’t have. Instead, he would’ve had some cut-him-off-at-the-knees comeback that Calder wouldn’t have figured out until days later.”

  “He was a smart bastard, wasn’t he?”

  Naughton was afraid to turn around and look outside. “Is she gone?”

  “Who?”

  “Bradley.”

  “Of course not. She and Alex are waiting for us.”

  “You sure?”

  “I don’t know why you think they wouldn’t be, but turn around and see for yourself.”

  Naughton turned slowly and saw Maddox was right. Bradley’s back was to him, and Alex was talking to her. He knew Alex well enough to be able to read her expression. It was some kind of lecture; he’d been on the receiving end of enough from her to know. Bradley nodded and turned when Alex pointed in his direction.

  When their eyes met, Naughton raised his hand and waved. Bradley waved back. Neither smiled.

  “Go,” Maddox nudged him.

  Naughton picked up two glasses that had been filled with the first wine on the tasting list and walked toward the patio, and Maddox followed.

  “I’m surprised you two feel like drinking today.” Alex took a glass from Maddox and winked.

  “Water and acetaminophen does the trick every time. Thanks for taking care of me, Al.” Maddox put his arm around Alex’s waist.

  Naughton handed Bradley a glass and motioned for her to follow him to the other side of the patio.

  “I’m sorry you saw that,” he said. “The guy knows how to get under my skin.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “I don’t know him, which is why I don’t understand why he tried to frame me for the Los Cab incident.”

  Kade had asked him what kept him up at night, and right now, it was Calder. It had to be personal, but Naughton had no idea why.

  “My uncle doesn’t like him either.”

  “Not surprising.”

  Bradley swirled and smelled the wine. “Holy cow,” she commented. “Perfumey.”

  Naughton swirled and stuck his nose in his glass. “Yeasty.”

  “Brioche,” she murmured, and Naughton agreed.

  “Good nose.”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “I better.” She took a sip. “Very different on the palate. I didn’t expect so much lime, or the minerality to be so sparse. The stone fruit is expected in an Albariño.” Bradley lowered her voice. “It’s a little green, though.”

  Naughton agreed with every comment she made. The wine tasted hurried. Fruit picked too soon; wine released too early. Bradley’s palate was highly developed for someone her age, but then Naughton would bet she’d gone into wine tasting with no preconceived ideas. Charlie Jenson probably taught her to trust her instincts, not taste what a wine should be, just what it was.

  It was the same way his father had taught his siblings and him about tasting. They had started very young, tasting raw juice. They learned what the fruit of each varietal tasted like before the introduction of yeast or acids—before fermentation. When he was too young yet to write, his da would tell him to draw what he first smelled, and then tasted, in the juice. While his siblings’ drawings were rudimentary, Naughton’s were detailed, and very specific.

  “What are you thinking about?” Bradley asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She smirked. “If it’s nothing, it’s something.”

  “Do you remember the first time you tasted?”

  Bradley nodded. “Like it was yesterday.”

  “What was your first?”

  “Raw Chard.”

  Naughton smiled.

  “You?” she asked.

  “I remember, but not the varietal. I figured you would. Do you remember how old you were?”

  “My first memory was when I was five, but Aunt Jean says I was much younger, like two or three.”

  “Same for me and my brothers and sisters.”

  “Are you and Maddox the only two that wanted to work in the vines?”

  “Brodie, too. But he’s more of the salesperson. You know from the fire that he knows his way around the vineyard.”

  “Right. Of course.” Her cheeks pinkened.

  “You never have a reason to be embarrassed with me, Bradley.”

  “What do your sisters do?”

  “Skye’s focused on her kids; she has two. Spencer is three, and Kade was born in July.”

  “Two boys? I love that she named the youngest one Kade.”

  Naughton smiled. “Skye made sure we were all okay with it before she did. And we were, obviously. Spencer, though, is a girl. I guess she has that in common with you. You’ll have to tell her not to let anyone get away with what I did to you.”

  She smiled too.

  “What about your other sister?”

  “Ainsley is…I don’t know what she is. Still in school, on a business track.”

  “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  “I remember you telling me you didn’t.”

  “No cousins either.”

  “What was that like?”

  “Quiet. Lonely.”

  “I like quiet.”

  Bradley smiled and held up her glass. “What’s next?”

  “Your choice of Chenin Blanc or Sauv Blanc.”

  “Chenin Blanc, please.”

  That was his choice too, although he’d get the Sauv Blanc, just so she could taste both.

  “I asked them to pull the Aglianico for later,” Naughton said when he came back with the next tastes.

  “Oh, good.”

  “You haven’t really seen the best of me,” he blurted after they’d had a couple of sips of wine.

  Bradley raised her eyebrows. “I haven’t?”

  “You’ve seen a lot of the worst.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen some I guess.”

  “Kade used to talk to me about the legend of the white and black wolf.”

  “The conflict of inner forces.”

  Naughton nodded. “You know it?”

  “After my mom died, my father insisted I see a therapist. I talked more about him than my mom.”

  Naughton listened but didn’t say anything.

  “My dad was eaten up when my mom died. A drunk driver…” Her eyes filled with tears, something that didn’t happen as often anymore wh
en she talked about her mom. Why was she telling him this?

  “Go on, Bradley,” he whispered.

  “His anger scared me more than anything else.”

  “Understandable. You weren’t very old.”

  “I kept a lot buried so I didn’t upset him. The therapist said then that it wasn’t up to me to starve his black wolf; it was up to him.”

  He nodded again.

  “He’d get very angry, to the point where he’d throw things…” She had to stop talking about this. Her eyes were already full of tears. If she said anything more, she’d cry right here, on the patio of Pear Valley.

  “Come on,” Naughton said and took her hand. “Let’s walk.”

  He led her down the steps from the patio to the lawn, where people were having picnics and playing corn hole. Naughton kept walking, leading her into the vineyards. How did he know the peace they brought her?

  “The summer after she died, he wouldn’t let me come stay with Aunt Jean and Uncle Charlie. It was the only place I wanted to be, and he wouldn’t let me. The next year he did.”

  “What made him change his mind?”

  “Now that I think about it, probably the therapist. I was filled with guilt about it though. Leaving him alone, and how I never wanted to come home. I wanted to stay with my aunt and uncle forever. I’ve never told anyone that, not even the therapist.” How had they gotten on this topic? “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  “Inner turmoil.”

  “Right.”

  “Do I remind you of your father?”

  Bradley’s breath caught. It was obvious he did, otherwise why would she have told Naughton about her dad when all he’d mentioned was the legend? “Sometimes,” she murmured. God, he’d cut right to the thick of it, hadn’t he?

  “I’m sorry.”

  He held her hand as they walked through the rows and rows of vines.

  “You should stay away from me.”

  It was the second time Naughton had warned her away from him, and part of her agreed with him. There were certainly enough logical reasons why she should.

  For her, the most important reason was how unprofessional it was. As everyone reminded her, she worked for Maddox, but that was semantics. She worked for Butler Ranch Winery, and Naughton was their vineyard manager.

 

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