The Memory of You Read online

  She stretched and waited, wondering what her first full day in California would bring. The room she and Nicole always stayed in had not changed. Their grandmother let them pick the color. Light mint green. Spearmint, to be exact, according to the label on the paint can. They’d chosen white poplin material for the curtains and Grandma had them sewn and hung in two days. The large canopy bed they’d shared was as soft as she remembered, and she’d enjoyed a full night’s sleep. The first she’d had in weeks. Maybe months.

  Perhaps coming here had been a good idea.

  Natalie got up, found her pills, and took them with a few sips of water. She padded over old floorboards and stopped at the bureau, opened a few drawers, not surprised to find them empty. She’d unpack later. The small writing desk in one corner bore scratches and doodles they’d marked it up with over the years. She poked through those drawers for remnants of years gone by and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper, hidden way in the back of one of them.

  Natalie unfolded it and stared at the two words scrawled across the page.

  I’m sorry.

  She glared at the writing, crumpled the note into a ball, and tossed it into the wastebasket. Something she should have done that summer. She doubted he’d been sorry at all. Refused to discuss it with him. And it hardly mattered now.

  A framed photograph of herself and Nicole sat on a shelf above the desk. Natalie stared at the image of her twin and swallowed acid.

  Oh, Nic.

  Would there ever come a day when it wouldn’t hurt when she thought about her sister?

  Not quite ready to shower and head downstairs, she sat in bed, thumbed through the magazines she’d bought at the airport and not read on the plane, and avoided touching the small Bible Laura had given her a few years ago. She didn’t read it much, hardly at all, but for some reason always carried it with her.

  When things exploded with Peter, Natalie spent a weekend at Laura’s, unable to face her parents’ questions and phone calls. She’d gone to church with the family, out of politeness really, but wondered at the things she’d seen and heard. Wondered at the authenticity of the relationship they talked about having with God.

  And wondered if maybe . . .

  She tossed those thoughts aside and fiddled with her iPad, then her laptop, and quickly came to the conclusion that there was no Internet connection in the house. Great. Her phone worked though, so she checked e-mails, nothing from work, and confirmed her appointment in San Francisco on Tuesday.

  Her doctor back home had been helpful in making the referral and ensuring she would receive proper care in California. It had been one of Natalie’s concerns with coming out here. But everything had fallen into place.

  Almost as though her being here was meant to be.

  By the time she went downstairs, dressed in light coral capris and a white cotton blouse, it was close to lunchtime. Natalie stopped at the doors to the long living room as a middle-aged woman came toward her.

  “Hello, Natalie.”

  Natalie squinted, recognition tapping at her brain. “Good morning. Mrs. Collins, right?”

  “Good memory.” Sarah smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Longer than I intended to. Woke early and fell back to sleep.”

  “Not to worry, I’m sure you needed it. It’s good to see you again.” The woman was dressed casually in beige trousers and a turquoise top, and she wore a friendly smile. “If you’re ready for some food, I’ve set the table for you on the patio. Your grandfather won’t be able to join you for lunch, but he’ll see you at dinner tonight.” She recognized Tanner’s smile. Not that she’d really seen it yesterday.

  “Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Collins.” Natalie crossed the room.

  “Of course. And call me Sarah.” She waved a hand toward the set of French doors on the far side of the room. “Go on, it’s a beautiful day to be outside. I’ll bring a fresh pot of coffee, unless you’d like something else?”

  “Coffee is fine. Thank you.” Natalie ventured toward the doors and pushed them open. A cooling breeze hit her face as she stepped out onto the stone patio. The vista was breathtaking.

  The house rested on a hill, and she looked down over the fields of lush green vines, some still heavy with their bounty of dark grapes. Towering oak trees provided shade for the rambling garden. A long swimming pool sat at the far end of the patio, sparkling in the midday sun. A massive wisteria vine curled around a white arbor trellis, thick foliage giving needed shade, the cascading lavender-colored blooms permeating the air with their perfume.

  Sunlight filtered through the branches and warmed her cheeks. Natalie kicked off her sandals and wandered over to check out the water. She bent and trailed her fingers through it, tempted to dive right in.

  “You’ll find it a little chilly.” Tanner Collins’s low voice almost sent her in headfirst.

  Natalie scrambled to her feet and caught her breath. “Do you make a habit of creeping up on people and scaring them half to death?”

  He quirked a brow, placed a tray down on the table. “Not generally, no. But that was amusing.”

  His dog . . . what was her name? . . . Gwin . . . wandered over and Natalie burrowed her fingers in the animal’s soft fur a moment before surveying the spread Tanner was setting out.

  “That looks good.” An assortment of cheeses, crusty bread with olive oil for dipping, and a bowl of olives stirred hunger and almost made her forget the pills she’d taken that morning and the affect they might soon begin to have. A large round of salami sat on another plate, along with a hearty slice of liver pâté and a selection of pickles.

  “The bread is just out of the oven. Whole wheat with nuts and raisins. Mom’s special recipe.” He went about opening a bottle of white wine. “And I thought you might like a taste of what we do here.”

  Natalie dropped into her chair and stared. “Well, I was going to have coffee,” she told him, eyeing the silver carafe on the tray, “but okay. Just a little.”

  Dressed in jeans, a faded denim shirt rolled at the sleeves and untucked, Tanner looked completely relaxed. His dark hair waved around his face and settled just above the nape of his neck. His eyes held a certain sparkle that definitely hadn’t been there when she’d arrived.

  The sudden one-eighty in his behavior was interesting.

  “This Chardonnay is our best seller.” Tanner poured a bit of the gold liquid into two glasses, offered one to her, and stuck his nose in the other. “A reliable offering I like to call Gwin.”

  Natalie smiled as she studied the meniscus. “You named a wine after your dog?”

  Tanner swirled his glass. “Gwin is intensely loyal and totally dependable. But treat her the wrong way and she could come back to bite you.” He held up his glass with a nod. “It’s also the Welsh word for wine.”

  “How clever of you.”

  “I thought so. Cheers.”

  Why not? It was lunchtime here. And she was in wine country. “Cheers.” Natalie sniffed and took in the rich aroma. “Nice.” She took a small sip and pushed the liquid through her teeth, waiting for the flavors to settle.

  Tanner sat opposite her and put his glass down. “You know what you’re doing.”

  She swallowed with a nod. “My father. You can take the boy out of vineyard, but you can’t take the vineyard out of the boy.”

  “Is that so?” A shadow of something close to consternation crossed his face. He lifted his glass again, sniffed, took a sip, and promptly spat into a small silver spittoon. “Does your father buy our wine, Natalie?”

  She took another sip, too aware of his scrutiny. “He prefers French wine.”

  “Of course he does.”

  She untangled herself from his gaze and concentrated on the food.

  The sun began to burn her bare arms, reminding her she’d forgotten to put on sunscreen. No matter. Some color might do her good. “This is delicious. Is the cheese local?”

  Tanner cut from the wedge of blue cheese and nodd
ed. “There’s a farm a few miles down the road. Pretty much everything we serve here is either grown on the property or within the area. Hal refuses to use anything imported if we don’t have to.”

  “Makes sense.” Natalie savored the delightful cornucopia of tastes. “So, how is the vineyard doing? I mean, really. My father seems to be under the impression that Hal is running it into the ground, but . . .” She glanced across the picture-perfect view and offered a smile. “I have a feeling that may not be the case.”

  “Wow. You don’t waste time, do you?” Tanner swished his wine and gave her a hard stare. “You don’t seriously expect me to sit here and discuss business with you.”

  “Ah.” Natalie stifled a laugh. “There you are.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She popped a green olive in her mouth. “My grandfather tells me you’re the head honcho around here. The vintner. Yes?” She sliced some cheese and reached for a cracker.

  “That would be correct.”

  “But you don’t work on Saturdays?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I work every day. I’m only up here because Hal asked me to be hospitable. To make sure you were all right.” Tanner’s chair scraped over the terrace as he stood. “And since clearly you are—”

  “Oh, sit down.” Natalie gave up and raised her eyes to the sky. She didn’t remember him being so touchy. “I can’t possibly eat all this myself. Please.”

  “I’m not hungry.” He sat anyway and stared at the stains on his hands.

  Natalie took the opportunity to study him.

  Beneath the strong jaw, wayward dimple, and disarming smile when he chose to proffer it hid a haunted expression. Dark shadows under those luminous eyes warned that all was not well in Tanner Collins’s world. She wondered what his story was. What he’d been doing over the years since she’d seen him last—what had him so riled up now, and why he seemed to find her so threatening. Well, that wasn’t hard to figure out.

  She ignored guilt and gave a shrug. “Go on, please eat. I promise not to pull up the numbers until your food is well digested.”

  He reached for the butter and spread a slab over a piece of bread, stuffed the slice in his mouth, and chewed, his eyes never leaving hers. “Like I said, I know why you’re really here.” He drank water, an early frost falling over his face.

  “Care to enlighten me?”

  He held her gaze, unflinching. “Your father told me you’d need full access to all the files and fiscal data for the last five years. You’ve come here to shut us down.”

  “I see.” She figured he’d already jumped to that conclusion. “And here I thought I was on vacation.” There was no telling what else her father might have said to the man. She would have her work cut out for her if she hoped to undo the damage. “All right.” There was no sense in denying it. “I’m here to visit my grandfather, but we’re also concerned about the winery.” Natalie put her wine aside, needing more food in her stomach.

  “So I’m right?” His glare challenged the heat of the sun and won. “You want to shut the place down?”

  “Do you think Maoilios should be shut down?”

  He fairly spat a mouthful in her direction, choked it down, and coughed. “What kind of stupid question is that?” Tanner sat back, his expression grim. “Of course I don’t. That would put me out of a job, wouldn’t it?”

  True enough. “Can you explain the losses over the last few years?”

  A flash of anger ambushed his eyes. “Bad weather. A blight. And Hal—” He clamped his mouth shut and looked away.

  Natalie squinted in the bright sun and wished she’d brought her shades out with her. “And Hal what?”

  Tanner looked about ready to puke up all the food he’d just eaten. Resignation curled his mouth upward. “Hal doesn’t realize we’re not living in the ’70s anymore. Times have changed. The consumer has changed. We can’t get by on selling local, supplying a few restaurants and hotels. There are so many things we could do. When I suggest doing anything remotely different, he pitches a fit.” His squared shoulders and a tight jaw told his true feelings.

  Natalie nodded. “Just so we’re clear, what exactly is your role here, Tanner?”

  “My role?” The question seemed to surprise him. “Oh, I see. You want to know what my qualifications are.”

  “If you don’t mind.”

  His expression turned cold enough to chill the Chardonnay in the oak barrels down the hill. “As you know, I’ve lived here since I was ten. I can walk every inch of this place blindfolded. I know exactly how many employees we have on staff, how many children they have, all their names, and when their birthdays are. I can tell you which vines are planted on each acre of this land, when they’re picked, how long it takes to harvest, how many gallons a year we produce down to the last barrel, and how much money we make or don’t make, on average. But I suppose none of that impresses you.”

  “Tanner, I—”

  He barreled on, ignoring her. “I graduated from UCLA with full honors, my degree is in horticulture, viticulture, with a minor in business management. I pay my taxes, give to charities, go to church most Sundays, I’ve never been arrested. Oh, and I’m allergic to cats. Anything else?”

  “That’ll do.” Natalie squelched her smile. “Shame you didn’t minor in hospitality too.”

  The dark look sent her way almost made her laugh. Clearly, he knew the business. And that pleased her. His passion shone through, whether he meant it to or not. In the space of a half hour, she’d come to one conclusion. Her grandfather had the right man in charge.

  What if her father was wrong about this?

  She might be able to convince her grandfather to at least look into making some changes. But she’d have to persuade Dad that Maoilios was not the write-off he’d proclaimed it. Even though she held the power, he would never expect her to wield it.

  Could she take on that fight? The fact that she was even considering it proved her upcoming appointment with Dr. Sherman was imperative.

  “I’m sure you’re already aware,” she began, watching Tanner’s jaw twitch, slightly aware of taking her life into her own hands, “but in today’s market, you need to be flexible. Open the place up. Do tours. Have a tasting room. Private parties. Internet connection at the very least.”

  He met her eyes in a startled moment that kicked aside the guarded expression. His familiar grin flashed for an instant. “I have Internet in my office. High-speed.”

  “Lucky you. This house is a dead zone. Which is going to be a problem when I need to check in with the office.”

  “I thought you were on vacation.” His eyes narrowed again.

  “I’ve never been terribly good at relaxing.”

  “I remember. You were the only kid I knew who could read an entire book in one day and immediately start another.”

  Natalie warmed to that grin a little too quickly for her liking. “Well. I looked up Maoilios before I left, hoping to find a website. All that came up were directions and a phone number in the yellow pages. I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck convincing my grandfather to step into the new millennium?”

  “He says things are fine the way they are.”

  “If things were fine, my father wouldn’t be itching to close the gates and put you out of a job.”

  “All right, you’ve made your point.” His sigh sagged with regret. “I’m not giving up without a fight. Hal might be stubborn, but he’s not stupid. If I have to toss him in the silo to get him to see reason, I’ll do it.”

  “I doubt it’ll come to that.”

  “So you’re willing to give us a chance?”

  “I’ll be fair. That’s all I can promise for now.” Natalie sipped ice water and caught sight of a couple of kids weaving their way through the vines. Gwin barked and raced down the hill. Hal’s two dogs appeared out of nowhere to join in. The kids chased the dogs in circles as their giggles floated toward Natalie.

  Memories of a carefree life surfaced, reminded he
r that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t go back in time. Couldn’t fix the things that were broken. Couldn’t repair the irreparable.

  “Did you hear me?” Tanner leaned across the table, his eyes glinting in the afternoon sun.

  “Sorry, no.”

  His scowl told her she hadn’t missed much. “I said, I will do whatever it takes to keep the winery open. I’m not going to let you convince Hal to close, not that I think you could, and I’m not about to let you—”

  “Tanner.” Natalie pushed out a sigh. “I realize we don’t know each other anymore, but—”

  “I know that your father is a powerful businessman. And you work for him. He will have the final say, won’t he?”

  Tanner had hated the way she bowed to her father’s demands. He always chided her, told her she didn’t have to try so hard to please him, didn’t have to try to compete with Nicole.

  “Tanner, listen . . .”

  “Save it.” He scraped his chair back and stood. Raised an arm in greeting as the two kids ran up the hill onto the patio. The little girl launched herself at Tanner and he swept her up in strong arms, planting a kiss on her nose. An older boy hovered near the table, eyeing the food.

  Tanner shook his head. “Nan’s got pizza for you.” The boy did a little fist pump and tried to make a dash for the door but Tanner shot out an arm and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hold up. We have a guest.”

  Natalie raised a brow. We. Like he owned the place.

  “This is Jason, and this is Jeni. Guys, this is Miss Mitchell. Mr. Hal’s granddaughter.”

  Natalie smiled and hoped she looked friendly. She’d never been all that good with children. “You can call me Natalie.”

  “Miss Natalie,” Tanner interjected. He turned back to the boy. “How was your game?”

  “Fine. You didn’t come.”

  “I’ll be there next week.”