Coming Home

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Coming Home Page 8

by Judith Keim


  “While I work with these lovely roses, would you like to open the wine to let it breathe?”

  “Sure,” he said agreeably.

  “Perfect.” She handed him a wine opener.

  Cami trimmed off the ends of the stems and arranged the flowers in a glass bowl she brought out from a cupboard. Pink roses had been Kenton’s choice of flowers for her grandmother’s wedding. Nonnee had loved them ever since. Cami liked the idea that Drew had brought the same for her.

  “Shall I pour the wine?” he asked, indicating the two glasses she’d already placed on the counter.

  “That would be nice. I’m ready to relax,” she responded, pleased. Drew was an incredibly handsome man who was as nice a guy as she’d met in some time.

  He poured the wine and handed her a glass.

  “Let’s go sit by the fire. It’s warmer there.”

  They walked into the living room and took a seat at either end of the couch facing the fire.

  Cami patted the empty space beside her, and Sophie jumped up. “Hope you don’t mind sharing space with Sophie.”

  He laughed and rubbed Sophie’s ears. Sophie licked his hand and rolled over for a tummy rub.

  Cami lifted her glass and smiled at him. “Here’s to a nice friendship!”

  “Yes,” said Drew. “Good friends are hard to find.”

  “Where did you live before coming here?” she asked, eager to know more about him.

  “In Napa. A couple of friends of mine and I shared an apartment. But I left in a hurry when the position opened up at Chandler Hill. I didn’t realize at the time an opportunity with Rafe would be a possibility. I’m delighted I made the decision to come here.”

  “Rafe wouldn’t ask you to train under him if he didn’t believe in your abilities,” said Cami. “I admit I’m a little jealous. My grandmother’s wines and his were always considered among the best. Now you have the chance to continue with Rafe’s, while I have to wait until the next harvest to work with our grapes.”

  “You said you were living in France when you got the call to come home. Were you working with grapes there?”

  “Yes,” said Cami. “I lived in the southern part of the Côtes du Rhône region. It was beautiful and the wines superb. Most of the grapes were grown on the eastern side of the Rhône between the river bank near the town of Orange, and the Vaucluse-Luberon chain of mountains. Such a pretty area.”

  “Tell me about the wine.”

  “The majority of wine is grenache noir, but other grapes such as syrah and mourvedre are pretty typical.”

  “How did you like working with different grapes and making white wines?” he asked.

  “It took some time to get used to,” she said. “I guess grapes are like children or dogs. You get used to their idiosyncrasies and do your best with them. They’re all a little fussy in their own way. That’s the fun of it, I suppose.”

  “Are you glad to be home?” He took a sip of wine and waited for her to speak.

  “Yes and no, truthfully. I understand I’ve been given a great opportunity not many have, but the pressure of carrying on for my grandmother sometimes seems overwhelming. She was such a fantastic person. And the inn needs a lot of my attention. Jonathan Knight didn’t really understand the charm of the inn. He wanted it to be something it’s not. Glitz has its place in the resort world, but that’s not us. I like to think of the Chandler Hill Inn as a resort that is quiet, classy, and traditional without being boring. Does that make sense?”

  “It makes perfect sense. The last thing you want to do is to become something you’re not. I appreciate that in people too.”

  “A bad experience?”

  Drew let out a sigh and set down his wine glass. Staring into the fire in the fireplace he was quiet for a moment before turning to her. “My ex-girlfriend came from a rich family and was pretty used to getting her own way. She desperately wanted us to marry, but over the course of the relationship I realized I was never going to measure up to what she expected from a husband. First, it was because I hadn’t traveled much. Then, I didn’t earn enough money.” Drew’s voice became bitter. “You get the picture.”

  “Apparently, I wasn’t good enough either. My boyfriend ditched me in a hurry when I had to come home quickly when Nonnee was terminally ill.”

  Drew poured a little more wine into their glasses. “Well, that’s all behind me. I’m not going to get in a situation like that again. My uncle and I have always lived without a woman in the house telling us what to do. Believe me, it’s a lot easier that way, or so I’ve learned.”

  “Someday you might change your mind.”

  He snorted, waking Sophie from her nap. “Doubtful.”

  Cami raised her glass. “Here’s to easier days ahead.” She clinked her glass to his. “Remember, you and I will be rivals when the winemaking begins.”

  “All right then, here’s to Lettie’s Creek Wines!”

  “And Chandler Hill wines,” Cami quickly amended, making Drew laugh.

  She rose to her feet. “I’d better put our meal together. You can either relax here or join me in the kitchen.”

  “I’ll come with you.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I like to see a woman cooking in the kitchen like she should.”

  “Whaaat?” She threw a pillow at him.

  Chuckling, he followed her into the kitchen.

  Cami moved easily heating the sauce, cooking the pasta, and putting together a salad. Rafe was a great cook and had enjoyed teaching her many of his favorite recipes. It had been a wonderful way for them to bond when she’d first come to live with him and Nonnee. They still loved to cook together.

  Later, as she and Drew sat together eating their meal, Cami experienced a sense of peace. It was nice to have a man in the house—a man she didn’t have to worry about pleasing. A friend who accepted her for herself.

  As they ate and later sipped after-dinner cups of coffee, they talked about some of their favorite films and moved on to other things. It was surprising how well their tastes meshed. She happened to glance at the clock on the microwave and was surprised that it showed eleven o’clock.

  “Wow! I didn’t realize I was keeping you so late,” Cami said, rising to her feet. “I know how early you and Rafe start your day.”

  Drew rolled his eyes and grinned. “Rafe is an early riser, for sure.” He carried his coffee cup over to the sink and set it down. “Delicious dinner. Thanks.”

  “This was an easy one. Sometime I’ll show you a little of my more complicated cooking skills.”

  His face lit up. “I’d like that. It’s been a great evening.”

  Cami walked him to the front door. “I’ve enjoyed the time together too.” She handed him his jacket.

  He put on his jacket and turned to her. “Thanks again.” His golden eyes studied her with satisfaction, then he leaned over to kiss her.

  Cami offered her cheek as she would have in France and turned her face in time to feel his soft, warm lips on hers. Savoring the moment, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, he stepped away.

  He looked startled and said, “I gotta go.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  During the week, Cami spent some time talking on the phone with Laurel Newson. Laurel finally agreed that when she concluded her vacation in Palm Springs, she’d handle weddings and special events at the inn until she was bogged down with garden duties. With five days left before Valentine’s Day, Cami wanted to be sure she had everything in order before meeting with the bride and groom about their May wedding. Justine Devon was quiet-spoken on the phone, but there was no mistaking that she wanted her wedding plans to be exactly right. Her fiancé, George Dickinson, was apparently willing to go along with anything she planned.

  Cami met with Becca inside Chandler Hall, a separate building adjacent to the inn designed to accommodate special functions such as weddings, banquets, and other events. They stood in the middle of the hall surveying the area with a critical eye. Glass garage doors made up
a large portion of the perimeter walls, giving groups the option of rolling them up for an outdoor event when weather permitted. Often wedding parties served food inside the building and then made the doors disappear to make the inside space and outside patios perfect for dancing. It worked well, especially at night when the sparkling stars in the sky matched the white mini-lights strung among the abundant, green rhododendrons and other foliage surrounding the building.

  The interiors of the walls that didn’t consist of the glass doors were paneled with a rich walnut that worked well for both casual functions like barbeques or dressier ones like weddings and wedding receptions. In the main hall, a massive stone fireplace was another functional feature that anchored one end of the room and sometimes served as a background for simple weddings. At the other end of the room, a large, modern kitchen provided a suitable workspace for food preparation and easy dining or buffet service.

  Bathrooms and a special room where brides and their attendants could change their clothes completed the basic layout of the space. It was a simple design, but one that worked well.

  “Someday I want to be married here,” said Becca. “With the views to the outside, it’s perfectly beautiful.”

  “It’s one of my favorite places too. I used to come here with Nonnee to watch wedding celebrations.” Cami smiled. “If I behaved, I usually got a piece of the wedding cake.”

  “What a life you must have had growing up here,” said Becca. “And now all this is yours.”

  Though Cami returned Becca’s smile, her stomach clenched. The inn wasn’t a simple piece of property. It had become a destination resort where people expected the best. The Barn, the swimming pool, spa, and excellent food made it much more than the inn of long ago. Nonnee had grabbed hold of the opportunity given to her and made it so much better. Cami worried that she wouldn’t be able to maintain what was already there, much less make it grow as they’d envisioned.

  “I think we can do better with our wedding parties,” said Cami. “I want to assign a special staff member to ‘bird-dog’ each group. He or she will need to be everywhere, responding to every request. Can you think of anyone for that job?”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything to you just yet, but one of my old college friends, Vanessa Duncan, thought she might like to try living on the west coast. She knows how happy I’ve been and has asked me if I could help her get a job in the area.”

  “Has she ever done anything like this?” Cami asked. “The hospitality business isn’t as easy as people think. It can be very demanding.”

  “She’s worked in an advertising agency in New York dealing with clients, but she’s tired of doing that. People like her. She’s outgoing, and she loves wine too.”

  Cami laughed. “I guess those are all admirable qualities to have. But living in Willamette Valley is a far cry from the hustle and bustle of New York. She might be bored.”

  “I don’t think so. She usually finds something to keep her busy. I haven’t seen her for a couple of years now, but she was generally a lot of fun.”

  “Okay,” Cami said, shrugging. “Have her send me a resumé, and I’ll take a look at it.”

  The setting sun sent streaks of color through the sky that were reflected by the glass doors of the building in striking shades of red and orange. Observing such natural beauty, Cami’s sigh of appreciation met Becca’s. At times like this, she could almost sense Nonnee here with her, admiring the sight of the hills painted with color from above.

  “Dan and I are going out to dinner downtown. Want to join us?” said Becca, standing by as Cami locked the empty building.

  “No thanks. I’m going to stay at home.”

  “You and Drew are both such homebodies. We can’t get him to go out with us either,” Becca complained.

  Cami smiled to herself. She and Drew were going to have dinner at her house for the third time. The first two evenings together had been great—two friends just relaxing. Though they’d end up competing against each other in wine tastings, they loved to talk about wines and what was happening in the industry.

  She and Becca walked together to the inn. Cami had left Sophie snoring beneath her desk. On cold winter days like this, the dog was content to stay inside.

  A number of guests were at the inn taking advantage of the advertised February specials. When Cami walked into the main house, several people were enjoying happy hour in the library. She smiled and entered the room to speak to the guests, welcoming them, and finding out a little about each one, all part of her normal routine each evening.

  She left a short time later and went to her office to get Sophie. She greeted the dog with several pats on the head, then grabbed her coat and purse.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” teased Becca.

  “Home. See you later,” Cami replied, avoiding further conversation as she hurried away. Sensing a race, Sophie yapped and charged ahead, her short legs moving as fast as they could.

  ###

  At home, Cami lay back in the tub, loving the feel of warm water swirling around her. Relaxed now, she could think ahead to the evening. She enjoyed being with Drew. Even as he made no advances, he made her feel attractive. Though she had no intention of getting involved with anyone, she liked being in his company.

  Sophie’s head bobbed up and disappeared as she tried for the impossible leap that would get her into the tub. Cami laughed. “No, girl. One is enough.”

  Later, after she dried and dressed, she stood in front of the mirror brushing her curly, strawberry-blond hair into submission. She didn’t mind that it was sometimes a struggle. The hair came from Nonnee, her dark eyes from her mother and Rafe.

  When at last she felt ready, Cami headed to the kitchen. For this cold evening, she’d planned cheese fondue. It was one of her favorite, festive wintertime meals. The recipe, originally from the Swiss Embassy in Washington, D.C., was easy to make. That morning, she’d cubed a loaf of french bread and set the pieces on a tray to crispen. Now, she’d go ahead and shred the gruyère and emmentaler cheeses. Later would come the wine, garlic, a bit of kirsch, and a touch of nutmeg mixed together for a creamy blend. She set the ceramic fondue pot she’d bought in Switzerland next to the stove. It was one of her prized possessions.

  She’d just finished whipping up a simple salad dressing of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a few spices, when the sound of the doorbell sent her hurrying to answer it.

  Smiling, she opened the door with a flourish and then reeled away in shock. “Bernard! What are you doing here?”

  His lips spread into a smile she’d once thought charming. “I’m here, just like you wanted. I had to get used to the idea. And when I understood what a big responsibility you have, I knew my place was with you.”

  “That’s quite a speech,” Cami said, facing him with her hands on her hips. She remembered the hurtful way he’d ended their relationship. A fun, summer romance he’d called it. Ending it in an email. Not even a call. Well, this was winter now.

  “Aw, ma chère, aren’t you going to welcome me?” He stepped forward and swept her up in his arms. His kiss, those soft lips of his, brought back memories of passionate days and nights in France. For a moment, she succumbed to his touch. Then she remembered how he’d treated her and abruptly straightened.

  “Bernard, why are you here? What makes you think you can assume that everything will go back to what it once was before I discovered your true nature?”

  “Because of this.” He brought her closer and kissed her once more.

  At the sound of Drew’s truck entering the driveway, she stepped away. “No, Bernard. I can’t do this. Besides, I’m expecting company for dinner.”

  They turned as Drew pulled to a stop and got out of his vehicle.

  “So, this is how you missed me?” Bernard looked at her with hurtful surprise.

  She waved to Drew, so happy to see him she wanted to run to him. Her emotions were doing cartwheels inside her, and she needed his steady friendship to help he
r.

  “Hi, Cami.” Drew’s brow creased with concern as he stared from her to Bernard. “Am I interrupting anything?”

  “No.” Cami said firmly. “Bernard is an old friend from France. He just stopped by to say hello.”

  “Chérie, ce n’est pas vrai.”

  “Yes, it’s very true,” said Cami. “We haven’t spoken or had any kind of real, honest communication since just before my grandmother died. You should have called before coming to my house. Where are you staying?”

  Bernard looked down and shuffled his feet. He lifted his handsome face to her and winked. “I thought I’d be staying with you.”

  Cami let out a sigh. That wasn’t going to happen. At one time, it’s what she’d prayed for. “I’ll call and get you a room at the inn.”

  “Look,” said Drew. “I can leave you two alone, come back another time.”

  “No!” Cami responded more sharply than she’d intended.

  That message wasn’t lost on either man. They studied one another. Bernard, tall and thin, seemed almost weak in comparison to Drew’s broad shoulders and sturdy body of equal height.

  “It’s cold. Why don’t you both come in while I call the inn to make arrangements for Bernard?”

  She stepped back and waved them inside.

  “Très beau,” murmured Bernard, glancing around, a smile forming on his lips. “I had no idea the Chandler Hill property was so big, so beautiful.”

  “From all the stories I’ve heard, it’s a successful operation that’s been a labor of love,” said Drew, earning a smile from Cami for his understanding.

  “Yes, Nonnee made it seem that way. I know, though, how hard she worked to make it so.”

  “With my experience we can make it even better, non?” Bernard smiled at her.

  Dismay took Cami’s breath away. Was this why Bernard had come to visit her? “But you have an interest in a vineyard in France. Why would you come here to work?”

  Bernard’s shrug was telling. “I am not a part of it anymore. You know how unreasonable Jacques could be. It wasn’t what I wanted.”

 

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