The Memory of You Read online

  A low whistle came from his direction. “You’re really going there?”

  Nine

  OH, GOOD GLORY. SHE REALLY DIDN’T WANT TO GO THERE.

  Natalie hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. “You seem to call it like you see it. So do I.”

  “Fair enough.” Tanner nodded. “Nicole knew how to get what she wanted; I won’t deny that. That doesn’t mean she always succeeded.”

  “Whatever. She would have. If . . .”

  “Natalie.” Tanner leaned forward, his eyes piercing. “We were kids. And no disrespect, but your sister wouldn’t have had much use for me in later years. We come from different worlds. She knew that even then.”

  Nicole’s obsession with Tanner Collins had been the biggest wedge between them. Natalie could put up with her sister’s bossiness, snide remarks, the calculated schemes that left Natalie holding the bag every time, but the final insult was the look on Nic’s face when she’d snuck in late one night, her face flushed, eyes lit with excitement while she eagerly relayed the events of the past few hours.

  He’s such a good kisser, Nat. Oh my gosh. I’m so in love . . .”

  “Oh, please. You’re thirteen. What do you know about love?” Natalie rolled over in bed, squeezed her eyes shut. Why had she been so stupid to confide in her sister? To think she could actually trust her. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Two days ago, after Natalie and Tanner spent the afternoon together, reading and swapping stories, Tanner had done the unexpected. Leaned in, looked her in the eye for a long moment, then kissed her. Short, but oh so sweet. It had taken her breath away. And she’d come home and confessed her undying love for Tanner to her sister.

  “Natty? I know you said you liked him, but . . . you’re okay with this, right?” Nic crawled onto the bed and rubbed Natalie’s back. “Tanner said he likes you, but only as a friend. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be upset.”

  “You told him how I felt?” Natalie sat up and stared at her sister in horror. “Nic! You promised.”

  “Aw, come on, Nat.” Nic laughed and patted Natalie’s wet cheek. “Everyone knows you’ve had a crush on Tanner for like, forever. But unfortunately, he only likes one of us.”

  Natalie shook her head at the memory. “I guess you feel things more intensely at thirteen.”

  “What does that mean?” Tanner squinted down at her.

  Natalie stiffened and realized she’d said that out loud. Why did the man turn her into an absentminded dolt? “Nothing. Forget it.”

  He moved off, stood in silence for a while, then gave a low chuckle. “I still can’t believe you thought the kids were mine.”

  She silently thanked him for changing the subject. “Well, it did cross my mind. But given that Jason’s almost eleven . . .”

  “That would have made me a teenage dad. No thanks.” Tanner practically shuddered. “I’ve got nothing against marriage and family, but it’s not for me.”

  “Then we have one thing in common.” She rubbed the bare spot on her left hand. “My friend Laura has two kids and she’s constantly exhausted. She loves being a mom and wife, but I don’t think I’d want that life.”

  He pulled up a chair and sat, contemplating her like she was some strange new strain of bacteria. “Interesting.”

  “What is?”

  “Your grandfather mentioned you got engaged a while back.”

  Of course he had.

  “I’m not anymore.”

  “Okay.” Tanner fiddled with his watch, guarded interest in his eyes. “What happened?”

  How to answer that? Natalie decided on the short version. “We realized it wasn’t the right decision, so we ended it.” Something like that.

  “No regrets?”

  “Only that I said yes in the first place.” She shifted on the bench. “Does your sister work here at Maoilios as well?”

  Tanner’s lips twitched in what could have almost been a smile, but the light in his eyes faded. “No. She doesn’t. She used to teach music, piano. But she . . . well, she was in a wreck back in August and she’s uh . . . not doing so well.”

  Natalie suddenly remembered Jeni’s words. “Oh, gosh. Jeni did say her mother was in some kind of accident, I completely forgot. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned forward, exhaled in a way that tugged at her heart, and then sat up again. His eyes glistened and Natalie swallowed regret. His chest rose and fell, his eyes never leaving her. “So, anyway. How long until you know where we stand with the winery?”

  Clearly he didn’t want to talk about his sister.

  “It shouldn’t take much longer. But I have to go back to the city on Wednesday. That might put me back a day or two.”

  “Another appointment?” He raised an eyebrow. “We have hair salons and spas out here, you know.”

  “Very funny.”

  Interest gleamed in his eyes. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. And what I do with my time is none of your business.” The retort popped out before she could stop it. But she had her own topics she didn’t want to discuss.

  “Okay, then.” Tanner stood and put his chair back at the table. “Nice talking to you, Natalie. I’m going to check on the kids.”

  He strode off, kicked up dust along the path, and Natalie shook her head. Whatever. Tanner Collins could stew in his own juices all he liked. She had more important things to worry about. Like holding on to her sanity for the rest of her time here.

  Natalie brought the remaining dishes into the kitchen and set them beside the sink. Tanner’s mother was still cleaning up. “This is the last of them. Thanks for lunch, Mrs. Collins. It was great.”

  “You’re quite welcome. And please call me Sarah.”

  “Sarah, then.” Natalie hesitated, not sure what to say. “I, um, I’m sorry to hear about your daughter. Tanner said she was in an accident.”

  Sarah shot her a look, followed by a brief smile. “Thank you. We’ll get through. Has Tanner gone home?”

  “He said he was going to check on the kids.”

  Sarah stretched to put plates away. “We live on the property, you might remember, just on the other side of the hill. There’s a path through the vineyard. I can be here in five minutes if I need to be.”

  “That’s good.” How many times had she needed to be? Natalie ran a dish towel over a wine glass. “Do you think my grandfather is really all right?”

  “He seems to be doing just fine.” Sarah scrubbed a large pot a little too vigorously. “I think the question is, are you really all right?” She dried her hands and smiled. “You probably don’t know this, but I actually trained as a nurse. I worked hospice care for the last few years I practiced. I’ve learned to read people pretty well.”

  “What made you quit?” Natalie picked up a plate to dry and veered her gaze from the kind eyes that seemed determined to unlock her secrets.

  “Oh, life.” Sarah laughed and shook her head. “When I was married to Tanner’s dad, I worked. We lived in Seattle then. When Tanner and I moved back here, I could only find shift work at the hospital. Your grandparents offered me the position here at the house, and it made more sense with Tanner having a hard time adjusting as it was. So we moved onto the property and I never looked back.”

  Natalie pinched her lips and put the plate up in the cupboard, flinching as another round of nausea snuck up.

  “Natalie.” Sarah put a hand on her shoulder. “Come and sit down.”

  Exhaustion propelled her to sit next to Sarah on the couch in the family room.

  “I’m fine, really,” Natalie insisted, even as tears pricked her eyes. “It’s just . . .”

  “Natalie,” Sarah said softly, “whatever it is, you can trust me. I hope you know that.”

  Natalie nodded, met Sarah’s kind smile and knew she spoke truth. “All right. Well. A few months back, after I found my fiancé cheating on me, I had a bit of a breakdown.”

  She told Sarah the rest, the return of her p
anic attacks, that she was seeing a doctor in the city, and felt strangely relieved when the truth was out.

  “Please don’t tell anyone.” Natalie wiped her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “If I can just get through the next couple months, I’ll go home. Maybe Thanksgiving. Things should be much better by then.”

  “I hope they will be.” Sarah squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re getting help, but don’t you think you should tell your parents? You can’t use coming here as an escape. You need support, sweetheart. And Hal—”

  “No! I don’t want to worry him. And I really can’t tell my parents.” She couldn’t handle the fallout from that conversation. “Things were such a nightmare after Nic died. I can’t put them through that again.”

  Sarah nodded, moisture shimmering in her eyes. “You always were the stubborn one, Natalie Grace. Your sister knew how to fly off the handle, but she got over things and moved on. You, on the other hand, never gave in. Not if you knew you were right.”

  “It didn’t matter much.” Natalie gave a halfhearted laugh. “Nic always seemed to get her way whether it was right or not. I learned to give in eventually.”

  “I’m so sorry about Nicole, sweetheart,” Sarah said. “We never got the chance to talk afterward. Once you were released from the hospital here, your parents took you straight home.”

  “Yes.” Natalie pressed her fingers into her thigh and blinked back tears. Tears wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t bring Nicole back.

  “Well. I’m glad you told me what’s going on.” Sarah stood, put a few pictures to rights on the mantel. “I’ll give you my cell number. I want you to call me if you need anything, day or night. All right?”

  “Thank you, Sarah.” Natalie felt a strange relief, sharing her burden with somebody. “Please don’t mention this to Tanner. I don’t want him feeling sorry for me. He’s having too much fun hating me at the moment.”

  “Oh, my dear.” Good-natured laughter bounced across the room. “Tanner doesn’t hate you, Natalie. He just . . . well, he’s concerned. We’re all concerned. This place is our life. I can’t imagine not being here. And your grandfather—”

  “I know, I know.” She clutched a colorful cushion to her chest. Did everyone think she was on some personal vendetta to destroy their lives? “My dad only cares whether or not the place is making money. If I can convince him Maoilios is still a good investment, if indeed it is, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “And if you don’t think it is still a good investment?”

  Natalie shrugged and pushed to her feet. “Sarah, honestly, the best I can do right now is try to make it through one day without puking. I came out here because Grandpa Hal wanted me, but I also came here to get away. I never intended to come back, to face the past. But here I am. And maybe it is time I dealt with it. All I can tell you is that I’m taking it one day at a time.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” Sarah took her by the hands. “Of course you must focus on getting well. Don’t worry about Tanner. He’ll come around.”

  “I’m not worried about Tanner,” Natalie said. “I can hold my own where he’s concerned. And I hope he’ll soon realize that I really do want what’s best for everyone.”

  Sarah nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  Natalie refused to concern herself with it.

  Tanner Collins broke her heart a long time ago. She wasn’t about to let him do it twice.

  Ten

  TUESDAY MORNING WAS TURNING INTO A NIGHTMARE.

  “How did this happen?” Tanner spat sour wine from his mouth and stared at Hal. He’d been so careful this time. Thorough. Even more than usual. Since Natalie’s arrival and the implications of her visit, he was second-guessing his every move. No room for mistakes. “Is it the only tank?”

  “Just two from what I can tell so far.” Hal shook his head and muttered under his breath.

  “Two?” Tanner leaned against the cold stainless steel and waited for the room to stop spinning. Please God, let that be all. “That’s two too many.”

  Hal shrugged. “It happens, Tanner. It could be worse.”

  “The tanks were clean. I double-checked everything myself, Hal. I don’t get it.”

  “We’ll run some tests. See if we can figure out where this came from. Don’t worry.”

  Tanner closed his eyes. This was not what he needed. Not on top of everything else.

  He grabbed a glass from a nearby shelf and strode to the next tank. Tasted. Coughed and spat the rancid stuff onto the cement floor.

  “I told you.” Hal shoved his hands in his pockets, his expression grim. “It’s just the Meritage. Everything else up here and down below should be fine.”

  “Should be isn’t good enough.” Tanner kicked the air as a cat strolled by. “I want everybody on-site tomorrow morning. I want to know who touched what. I want to know exactly who has been here and who hasn’t and I want—”

  “Tanner.” Hal’s steady gaze cut off Tanner’s tirade. “You can interrogate everyone down to those darn cats for all I care, but the damage is done. Accept it, son.”

  “Hal . . . I’m sorry.” Tanner wished for a thousand miracles right about now. Wished to wake up and be at home in his bed, ready to start this day over. Except he’d been wishing that same wish for three months and it hadn’t come true yet.

  “We’ll survive. We’ll drain those two and clean them out and start over. It’ll be fine.”

  Tanner sighed and wished for some of the older man’s optimism. They crossed the courtyard to Tanner’s office.

  Hal glanced around the room and whistled his approval. “This looks different.”

  Tanner grunted and refused to go there.

  Tanner poured two cups of lukewarm coffee and they sat in silence. After a while, Hal put his mug down, hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, and stared at his boots. “What do you know about depression?” He lifted his head, his eyes full of questions.

  “Depression? Not a whole lot. Why?” Tanner leaned back in his chair and regarded the old man carefully. Surely if Hal had been exhibiting signs of depression, he’d have picked up on it. His friend seemed just fine to him, but Tanner was no doctor.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” Hal glared. “Not me. Natalie. I think she’s depressed.”

  “Natalie?” Tanner choked back laughter. Everything he’d seen about the strong-willed woman vetoed that theory. Sure, she might have been a little under the weather, but depressed? That seemed unlikely.

  “You knew her pretty well at one time, Tanner. Does she seem like herself to you? Does she seem happy?”

  “Happy?” They were heading toward territory Tanner had no desire to explore. “Hal. Your granddaughter and I were friends a lifetime ago. I don’t know her anymore and wouldn’t have a clue whether she’s happy or not.” And didn’t care. At least that’s what he’d told himself the other day as his heart snagged on her anguished look when they’d talked about Nicole.

  “She seems awful quiet,” Hal persisted. “I know she’s still checking in at the office even though she’s meant to be taking a break. Doesn’t eat much. She’s tired a lot, not real talkative, although she never was. I think being here is bringing back memories she doesn’t want to deal with.”

  “Then she shouldn’t have come.” Tanner regretted the sharp words as soon as they were spoken.

  “You still think she’s going to sell us out.” The quiet proclamation rang around the office, settling on Tanner like a wasp about to sink its stinger into flesh.

  “A logical conclusion under the circumstances.”

  “You have trust issues, son.” Hal got that look in his eye. The look that said I know you, what you’re hiding from, and how you really feel. The look Tanner, even at ten years old, could never duck out from under.

  When his mother announced they were moving to Sonoma, back to the place she’d grown up, Tanner had been furious. Bad enough to have his family ripped apart, but now he had to start over someplac
e new. He revolted. Refused to say much to anyone here for about three weeks. Until Hal found him wandering amongst the vines, took him aside, and talked sense to him.

  Tanner couldn’t remember what he’d said now, but he remembered being sort of terrified of the older man. Two days later, Hal took him fishing and Tanner had a new best friend.

  One who was now getting on his last nerve.

  “We both know her father sent her here, Hal. He wants the place shut down.”

  “That’s not entirely true.” Hal twirled his thumbs around each other. “Bill may have a bee in his bonnet about the winery, but I asked for Natalie.”

  “You what?” Tanner sat forward, confused. Hal’s smile wasn’t doing much to stave off the feeling that he’d just tumbled down a rabbit hole. “You asked her to come here?”

  “I did. Natalie is my trump card, son. The only way this place is closing is if she does it herself.”

  Awesome. “Then we’re done.”

  “Not so fast.” Hal smiled. “I’m not convinced Natalie is going to side with her father.”

  The man was deluded. Tanner squelched the thought. He didn’t like the tension between them. “I disagree.”

  “Oh, I can see that.” Hal rubbed his chin, pensive. “But I have a feeling. Grace and I prayed long and hard about giving Natalie those shares, and—”

  “Not this again.” Tanner groaned, leaned back in his chair, and slung one arm across his eyes. “Are you seriously going to sit there and tell me that Natalie Mitchell owns half of Maoilios because God told you and Grace to give it to her?”

  Silence told him what he already knew.

  Tanner pulled his arm down and opened one eye.

  “Your skepticism will get you nowhere.” Hal wagged a finger. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I also know that Natalie is here for reasons that have nothing to do with Maoilios.”

  “Well, if she wants a vacation, I suggest Hawaii.”

  “Tanner . . .” Hal’s warning tone made him sit a little straighter. “She’s going to need your help, son.”