The Memory of You Page 7

“Sure you will.” The boy’s dark eyes hinted at trouble. He was on the tall side and she’d put him in fifth or sixth grade maybe.

  Were they Tanner’s kids? She tried to do the math in her head and quickly gave up, her brain still not fully functioning.

  Natalie wasn’t sure of the little girl’s age, but the big blue eyes and wide smile captured her at once. She couldn’t find much resemblance to Tanner. Maybe they took after their mother. Who had to be around here somewhere.

  Natalie was suddenly curious to meet the woman who’d managed to melt Tanner Collins’s freezer-burned heart.

  “Hey.” Tanner swatted at the boy’s hand as he swiped a piece of cheese. The kids ran off into the house and Tanner sat down again. When he offered to refill her glass she held up a hand.

  “That was lovely, but I’m good. Thanks.” She noticed he hadn’t touched the little he’d poured into his own glass when they’d first sat down. “How old are they? The kids.”

  “Jason is eleven, almost. Jeni just turned seven.” He picked up the bottle on the table and studied the label. Put it down. Checked his watch. Cleared his throat.

  “If you have somewhere to be, by all means, don’t let me keep you,” Natalie said.

  He was on his feet in a flash. “I do need to get back to work.”

  She nodded. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll come down to your office on Monday morning. Perhaps you could show me your files, let me glance at the numbers. Say around ten?”

  Tanner swung her a glare. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really. I mean, I could ask my grandfather, but why bother him? It will be easier if you’d just work with me.”

  “I’ll do what you ask out of respect for Hal. And because I actually do like my job and I’d prefer to keep it. I suppose, circumstances being what they are, I probably do work for you, but I really don’t want to work with you. In fact, it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens.” He strode across the patio and slammed the French doors behind him.

  Natalie eased back into her chair and closed her eyes.

  Fantastic.

  There was no way to twist the truth or cover it up.

  She knew why her father wanted her here, and so did Tanner.

  The heaviness she’d believed had gone this morning descended like San Francisco smog, stifling, singeing, and searing her with the severity of the situation.

  If she took on this challenge, she might send her already fragile sanity packing. If she didn’t, she’d send her grandfather to an early grave and send Tanner Collins and everyone who worked this land straight to the unemployment line.

  Six

  TANNER POURED ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE THAT MONDAY morning and checked his watch again—10:45. Of course Natalie Mitchell would keep him waiting. He thumped against his chair and glowered at a horsefly hovering around the rim of his mug.

  His conversation with Natalie on Saturday still rang in his ears. He’d lost his temper. Something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately. When he tripped over Jason’s soccer cleats. When Jeni forgot to shut the freezer drawer and he found himself butt first in a puddle of chocolate ice cream the next morning. When Natalie sat across the table from him and somehow managed to look guilty and gorgeous at the same time.

  Tanner cringed at the memory of his harsh words. He’d even resorted to using the H-word—the one that made Jeni’s eyes bug out of her head whenever he slipped up around the kids—that’s a bad word, she’d scold, and wag a finger at him.

  Who was he kidding? He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. With his father such a stellar example, it was insane to even consider it. But letting Rance Harper simply stroll in and swoop the kids away? The man would have to get through him first.

  “Tanner?” Leo Kastner stuck his head around the doorframe. “You busy?”

  Tanner’s stomach twisted tighter. “Always busy, Leo.” Busy sitting in his office on a Monday morning when he had a thousand other things to do on the property. He glanced up as Leo strode in, the dogs trailing him. Tanner shot up a brief prayer for patience, as was his practice around Kastner. It was done before he remembered that he and God weren’t exactly talking these days.

  “Should have all the grapes in by Friday.” Kastner strutted around the office like it was his. “Another successful harvest, if I do say so myself.”

  Tanner gritted his teeth. “The wine will tell us whether it was successful or not.” You moron.

  Kastner shrugged, lips curled in that smarmy smile. “Just hope we won’t have any incidents like that fight last year. You know how some of those migrants can be.”

  “No. I don’t know.” Contempt created a few choice words in his throat but Tanner choked them back. Arguing with Leo would only aggravate his heartburn. “Everyone’s papers in order this year?”

  “Had to send two on their way, the rest look good. Most of ’em have worked here before, know what they’re doing.” The ranch manager whipped off his hat, rubbed a hand over stringy blond hair, and swept a scrutinizing gaze over the huge pile of manila files Tanner had heaped on his desk that morning. “Are we being audited?”

  “You could say that.” That would be the better news.

  Leo helped himself to coffee and sat, fanning himself with the broad brimmed straw hat. “Doing a little housekeeping or what?”

  Tanner pressed air through his lips and placed his palms on one of the piles. “Hal’s granddaughter is here. Got in a few days ago. Her daddy sent her out here to do some snooping. I think we’re about to be shut down.”

  Leo’s eyes got rounder, his mouth forming a thin line. “No way.”

  For once they agreed on something.

  “Who is this chick?” Leo’s crooked grin reminded Tanner of a bad guy cartoon character. “Want me to handle her?”

  It was easy to imagine that scenario. He and Leo were probably around the same age, but that was all they had in common. Leo had a reputation with the ladies. Nobody seemed to like him.

  Tanner clenched his fingers around his mug. “I can manage Miss Mitchell.” Manage not to throttle her for keeping him waiting almost an hour. “Did you need something, Leo?”

  Kastner yawned and tossed his hat to his lap. “Those barrels we ordered from Maxiner. When are they coming in? I’m taking a run over there and didn’t know which truck to take.”

  “I don’t think they’re ready yet.”

  “You call and find out?” Leo drained his mug and ran his finger around the rim of it. “You know how Max is about returning calls.”

  “Trying to tell me how to do my job, Leo?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Tanner?” Natalie’s voice floated into the office.

  Leo got to his feet as Natalie pushed through the door. Tanner widened his eyes as she came into view.

  If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say she’d just rolled out of bed. Her hair was loose, just touching her shoulders, light brown curls tossed every which way by the wind. In a pair of skinny jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, she looked more like a college kid than a businesswoman. And he definitely didn’t appreciate the way his heart skipped a beat when she met his scrutinizing gaze.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” She pulled an elastic band off her wrist and tied up her hair. Unzipped her purple hoodie, pushed up the sleeves, flicked a glance at her watch, and shook her head. “I’m usually punctual.”

  Tanner tried not to get sucked in by those blue eyes. “I’ll bet you are. But, no worries. I have nothing better to do on a Monday morning than sit around my office twiddling my thumbs. Do come in.”

  She fumbled through a gigantic green purse and came up with a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. Put them on and blinked at him. Then she turned toward Leo, who watched her with palpable interest.

  “The lovely Miss Mitchell, I presume?” Kastner’s leer made Tanner feel a little sick. He wasn’t about to sit here and watch the slime ball put the moves on Natalie.

  Natalie politely took the hand Leo offered. “And you a
re?”

  “Leo Kastner. I run the place.”

  Tanner cleared his throat, tempted to kick them both out.

  “Is that so?” Natalie glanced at Tanner. “I thought Mr. Collins was the one in charge.”

  “Well, he is, I suppose.” Leo positioned his hat on his head and looped his thumbs around his thick leather belt. “But I run the vineyard. He couldn’t do all of that fancy chemical stuff without me. I have the more important job.”

  “You don’t say?” She appeared as impressed as she might have been if he’d told her he pumped gas at the Shell station in town. That put Tanner’s opinion of her up a notch.

  Tanner studied “the lovely Miss Mitchell” with muted curiosity. In his estimation she looked a little sick, seemed to be having trouble focusing.

  Time to send Leo on his way.

  “I’ll get ahold of Max before you take off, Kastner. Thanks for checking in.” Tanner wrote a reminder to make sure Hal had set aside the money to pay for the barrels this time.

  Kastner got the point. “No problem. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mitchell. I hope we see more of each other while you’re here.”

  Natalie’s expression said she hoped otherwise. “Nice meeting you.”

  Kastner strolled out. The dogs stayed, sniffing around Natalie. Tanner took a better look at her. Small beads of sweat glistened around her hairline. He shooed the dogs off, shut the door, and turned on the air-conditioning while she shrugged off the thick hoodie, revealing a Harvard T-shirt underneath.

  “He seems like an interesting character.” She was already seated, palms braced on her knees, head down.

  “Yeah. He’s interesting all right.” He inched closer. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Her wobbly reply didn’t sound fine. She sure didn’t look fine.

  Tanner got her some water. “Heat still getting to you?” Maybe she was dehydrated or diabetic or something.

  “I guess.” Her hand shook as she took the glass from him. “I really am sorry I was late. I didn’t sleep well last night, and when I finally nodded off, I slept through my alarm.”

  “Oh.” Tanner scratched his jaw and tipped his head toward his desk. “We can do this another time.” Or never.

  “I’ll be all right in a minute.” She didn’t meet his eyes. “Is this everything? I’ll just get started then.” Natalie stood, moved toward the desk, and reached for a file. She glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t need to stay. I know you’re busy. I saw a lot of trucks rolling in on my way down here.”

  He hesitated. Not that he wanted to babysit her while she made short work of putting him in the unemployment line, but she really didn’t look good. “The files are sort of in order. I started with this year and worked down, but they might be mixed up.”

  She nodded toward his computer. “This is all on there, right?”

  “Uh . . .” He’d begun inputting figures a while back, but lately things had gotten so crazy. “I had an accountant come in part-time but . . . she didn’t stay long.”

  “So the answer is no.” If he wasn’t mistaken, a tiny smile toyed with her lips.

  “That’s correct.” And I’m an idiot. Thank you for not saying so.

  “I don’t mind inputting the figures for you as I go. If you’ll let me log onto your database, that is.”

  Right. Tanner pushed his tongue into his cheek, moved around her, and booted up his old PC. “Always figured you’d turn into one of those math geniuses, Mouse.” He clicked a few buttons, backed up, and pulled out his chair for her. “Be my guest.”

  She made herself at home behind his desk. “I’m no accountant, and I wouldn’t say I’m a genius, but I’ll take a stab at it.” Her face contorted, reminding him of how Jeni looked right before she was about to hurl.

  He narrowed his eyes, half tempted to put a hand to her forehead. “No offense, but you really don’t look so hot. Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

  Soft laughter petered out as she leaned back in his chair and set her steady gaze on him. Dogged determination played across her face. “Thank you, no.”

  Tanner drummed his fingers on his forearm, his conscience being a pain the rear. “I’m sorry for being abrupt with you the other day.”

  “Which day would that be?” Her direct reply hit him square in the chest and made a response impossible.

  “Apology accepted.” She took off her glasses and wiped them with a Kleenex pulled from the pocket of her jeans. “I’ll just get to work, and you can be on your way.”

  Dismissed.

  “Okay, then.” He backed out of the office, whistled for the dogs, and strode across the courtyard. So much for trying to be nice. Natalie Mitchell was encased in a glacier-sized ice block. And he had no desire to chip his way through it.

  Natalie managed to stay seated until she was sure Tanner was well on his way to whatever fire he was about to put out, searched the small office, found the bathroom, and sprinted for it.

  She’d been warned the meds might cause some nausea. That had been an understatement. But not taking them . . . well, she didn’t want to go back there.

  “Come on, Nat. Pull it together.” She washed up and caught her reflection in the mirror. Tanner’s “you don’t look so hot” was being kind. She looked like she’d just spent a week clawing her way through the Amazon.

  Natalie got more water, sat down, and tried to focus on the task at hand. Being able to focus on anything for any length of time was a big improvement. Actually, getting out of bed was the bigger accomplishment.

  An hour later her cell phone rang. She scanned it and rolled her eyes. Almost turned it off, but her conscience wouldn’t let her. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Natalie. I thought you would have checked in by now, your mother is worried. How’s it going over there?”

  “It’s going great.” She put some pep in her voice. “I left voice mails and sent you both texts after I arrived. Didn’t you get them? Weather is fantastic. The food is amazing and the wine is just heavenly. Oh and by the way, Grandpa Hal is just fine.”

  “Good, good.” He was walking. She heard horns honking and background noise. “Have you got access to their files yet? That boy isn’t giving you trouble, is he?”

  “If you’re referring to Tanner Collins, no, he’s not giving me trouble.” Giving her the cold shoulder and a monster headache, but other than that . . . “I’m going through things as we speak. It’s a bit of a mess.”

  “Just as I suspected.” He barked something to somebody. “On my way to a meeting. Now, how are you feeling? Your mother thinks being out there will be too much for you.”

  “It’s not.” Not yet, anyway. Natalie closed her eyes and breathed deep.

  “Well, if you have any trouble at all, just come home. We can shut the place down and not give it a second thought.”

  Natalie frowned. “I’d like to determine if the winery is salvageable first. I’m not anywhere near ready to make that call. Let’s see what we’ve got first, all right?”

  He muttered something she didn’t catch. “Let me know when you have some clear statistics to report, then we’ll talk. Your mother sends her love.”

  “Okay. Tell her—” Natalie stared at her phone. Dad never said good-bye, just clicked off when he was done. “I’ll be sure and say hello to your father for you.” She sighed. Why did he want Maoilios shut down now after not bothering with it for so long?

  She stifled a yawn and stared at the work ahead of her. Her brain was threatening mutiny and her stomach simply would not settle.

  All right. Concentrate.

  The sooner this got done, the quicker she could figure out her next move. Natalie squinted at the numbers for a while, until her cell buzzed again. Laura. This call she didn’t mind taking.

  “Hey, Lars.”

  “Natalie! Are you okay? How is everything there? How . . .”

  She was off and running. Natalie sat back and listened, imagining her friend in her kitchen, chasing kids and t
he dog, picking up toys and clothes and books as she went.

  “Everything is fine. No need to panic.” She studied a blot of mold on one of the photographs on the wall. A stench like sour milk crept around the aroma of coffee and Natalie prowled the office while Laura talked.

  “I wasn’t panicking. It’s just that your e-mail didn’t say much, and you didn’t answer the Facebook message I sent.”

  “Laura, you know I hate Facebook.” Natalie screwed up her nose and found the culprit. A half-empty container of congealed cream hid behind a dirty UCLA mug on top of a rusty bar fridge. Which she would not be opening without a gas mask. “Text me. You know I don’t use all that other stuff.” Social media was a complete waste of time. Telling everyone in the world your business so they could comment on it? No, thank you.

  “Well. You did promise to set up a Skype account.”

  “I know. I will.” Natalie eyed Tanner’s dinosaur-of-a-computer a little dubiously. There had to be an Apple store in town.

  “Are you really okay out there?”

  “I’m okay. I have my appointment tomorrow. I think they need to change my meds. I can’t stop barfing.”

  “Oh no. Are you feeling any . . . um . . . better?”

  “You mean normal?” Natalie laughed. “Not quite. Good days, bad days. But I’m out of bed at least.”

  “Good. How’s your grandfather?”

  Natalie looked at the old photographs on the wall. Grandpa Hal with his arms around his two sons. A very young Bill, perhaps twenty or so, and Jeffrey, just a couple years younger. “Doing well. It’s Tanner who’s giving me the real trouble.”

  “Tanner?” Laura paused. Natalie heard dishes moving, water running. “Oh, is that the guy you used to hang around with in the summer?”

  “That’s the guy.” An odd smile slid out of her, creating warmth she did not want to contemplate. “He’s running the place apparently. And none too happy about my being here.”

  “What’s his last name? I’ll look him up on Facebook. Is he cute?”

  “Laura.” She couldn’t envision Tanner Collins checking into Facebook every night. But then, stranger things happened.