As I made my way up the beautiful sloping hills of Leighton Cellars, I felt the smile on my face grow wider and wider. Everywhere was vibrant green and the smell of ripening grapes and fresh earth hung in the air. I lowered the windows and let the breeze blow through my hair and across my skin. Clara and I ran these grapevine and tree-covered hills from sunup to sundown, just the two of us. Of course, we added more friends as we got older, but it was always us.

The white cottage with pale blue shutters beckoning me held some of my fondest memories. From skinned knees to broken hearts and everything in between, this was the place that was always home. I remember first dates, first kisses, and other… firsts. If my aunt only knew, the trouble I would still be in! I can look back and laugh now at the crazy antics and rumblings of two Savannah debutantes trying to break out of the mold our names held over us.

I rounded the last curve in the lane leading to my aunt’s cottage. She always loved living close to the grapes. As long as I can recall, her house has always been called the cottage, but really it is a rather spacious old farmhouse with so much charm. Aunt Rosemary had updated and modified the cottage over the years, especially after Clara and I showed interest in cooking. Clara eventually dropped the fascination but for me, cooking became a passion I simply couldn’t shake.

I parked the convertible in the same spot I have always parked since I could drive myself out here. It felt so good to see the space empty—as if it had been waiting for my return. I turned off the car, grabbed my purse and tool kit, and headed for the steps leading to the entrance of the cottage. I was early, and no one was expecting me until early Friday morning. Luckily, I still had my keys and if no one was in, I could make myself at home until the work day was done.

I rapped my knuckles against the solid wood door and waited for someone to answer. As the door swung open, the one face I was hoping to see first came into view.

“Oh, my goodness! Bitty? Is that you, love?”

Some habits will never die. Rosemary Westbrook had been calling me Bitty since I could walk up the steps to her house. I was so much smaller than Clara and the other kids that frequented the farmhouse that she started calling me “Little Bitty.” Over the years, the nickname was shortened. Since Clara grew up to be taller and curvier than me, the nickname stuck. I still got my curves in the all the right places, though. Hearing her call me by the pet name I’d grown so fond of still fills my heart with joy and gives me a sense of belonging. It reminds me, too, that someone else thought the nickname fit me perfectly.

“Hey, Auntie.”

“You’re early! I wasn’t expecting you until Friday. Get on in here, now!” she said with a happy chuckle.

Aunt Rosemary was still one of the most beautiful women in Savannah. She was taller than me at five-foot-four. Her auburn hair was long and curly, and still incredibly gorgeous, even with streaks of gray. She may have been in her fifties, but she had a figure that any woman in her thirties would kill for. No silicone or facelifts. She exuded confidence, grace, and old Georgia charm. 

I stepped through the doorway into the place that was my second home with a sigh of genuine relief. As she pulled me into her arms and gave me one of her wonderful bear hugs, her scent surrounded me. It was soft and floral, like magnolias first blooming in the spring. Being back in the cottage and away from the madness of New York, I felt safe for the first time in days. No threats. No demands. I could let my guard down and know that I wasn’t truly alone. I felt my chest tighten and the rush of anguished tears burned my throat. As hard as I tried to hold it back, the first bitter sob escaped.

My aunt startled and stepped back to look at me. “Bethany? Honey, what’s wrong?” With a look of concern, she pulled me tighter into her warm, welcome embrace, and I lowered my head onto her shoulder. I let the tears flow and felt the sobs rack my body. I had held on for as long as I could.

“It’ll be okay, my sweet girl. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Her simple words of love and support only made the tears fall harder and the sobs leaving my mouth a little louder. Aunt Rosemary continued to hold onto me with comforting pats on my back, as my tears lessened and the sobs slowly ebbed into watery sniffles.

As I pulled away from her embrace with my head down, I whispered a wobbly, “I’m sorry.” She tucked her finger under my chin and lifted my head until I was staring into her warm hazel eyes. 

“Bethany, we’re family. Don’t ever apologize for leaning on me. It’s what family does, sweet girl.” She put both hands on my cheeks and a smile came to her face. She simply stared at me with love and understanding. She swiped the tears off my cheeks and pushed a lock of curls behind my ear. “Bitty, why aren’t you in New York? As much as I love having you here, didn’t filming for the new season start today?”

“It was supposed to, yes.”

“But instead of filming, you’re here. Two days early.” She raised her eyebrow.

“Don’t you always tell me to come home if I need you? I really need you, Auntie.”  

Her scowl softened and concern covered her face. “Come on, sweet girl. Did you eat today?” Aunt Rosemary grabbed my hand and we headed toward my favorite place in the cottage—the beautiful kitchen.

“I had breakfast this morning with the crew. It’s always been our thing, you know? We all start the day together. Those big healthy guys don’t want just bagels and coffee either. We have a real full breakfast. With grits,” I explain to her with a laugh. “It will hurt not seeing them every day if things go badly.”

“You have so much to tell me, don’t you? Let me feed you first. At least a sandwich will tide you over until supper. I have your favorite turkey from the market and some fresh bread too. You’re too tiny as it is, Bitty. You need to take care of yourself. Damn Yankees don’t know how to feed anyone.”

Lord, this incredible woman. She knew just how to lighten my heart. I laughed out loud. “Aunt Rosemary, you do know that I can feed myself? All that education I got helped me to be able to do that, and you did teach me a few things in this house.” The lessons she taught me were about more than the food. Those times we spent together taught me about confidence, perseverance, and grace under pressure. Even my cooking failures were a lesson in staying the course and trying again and again and again.

It’s no wonder I love her so much.

“Too bad you’re not puttin’ those lessons to good use. Now, come on here. Oh, I may have some cake left over too.” 

We stopped in the hallway leading to the kitchen. On the walls were pictures of the vineyards through the years—from its humble beginnings to the last crush that was celebrated. I lifted my fingers to my forehead and gave her a rueful look. “Lemon pound cake?” She answered me with a nod of her head. “Is it whose I think it is?”

“It is. That boy is one hell of a baker, Bitty. His mother taught him well.”

“You always did have a soft spot for Gideon.”

“He’s a very special young man, Bethany. You have no idea.”

She’s so wrong, though. I know exactly how special he is.

“God, I miss him,” I blurted out, not meaning to say those words out loud. I’ve held onto them for so long they seemed to force their way out from my heart.

“You know, he still asks about you. He tries to do it on the sly. Gideon forgets I watched you fall so hard for each other.” She crossed her arms in front of her and gave me one of her sternest scowls. “You seem to have forgotten too.”

I let out an exhausted sigh and looked at her, silently pleading with her to let this go. She remained steadfast and the lift of her eyebrow and tilt of her head told me that we had only just begun to discuss everything that was going on in my life. Apparently, that included my non-existent relationship with a man I have loved since I first laid eyes on him. I didn’t want to rehash our breakup with her. I didn’t have the energy anyway.

“Aunt Rosemary, please. I can’t today. Between you and Jessa, I have been bombarded and fussed at about Gideon. It’s done. It was his choice to end things between us and we all know why. I can’t think about him right now because there are bigger things coming, and they are not going to be nearly as wonderful as he is.”

She simply shook her head at me and let go a frustrated sigh. There was that soft spot showing its face again. She put her arm around me as we rounded the corner. I stepped into the kitchen and my eyes took in the space. It was like seeing an old friend, like a comfortable worn blanket from my childhood. Of course, over time, there had been changes but the overall look was the same. The walls were a creamy white with tall windows. The cupboards had a rustic look and held beautiful china in slate blues, vibrant reds and canary yellows. The kitchen had all the up to date appliances but still felt cozy. While my space in New York is uniquely mine and handcrafted to suit me, nothing could compare to this. It was open air and sun pouring through windows. The smell of fresh baked bread and the lemons and vanilla from Gideon’s pound cake filled my nose. I took it all in. Damn, it was amazing to be home. We rounded the island and she reached over to pull out one of the high stools.

“Sit down, Bethany. You’re about to fall over where you stand. Get comfortable, young lady. You and I have a lot of things to talk about.” She squeezed my shoulders and walked over to the refrigerator for fixings to make my snack. She turned back to the counter, ingredients in hand, and went to work making the thickest sandwich. I shook my head.

“Auntie! Really? I promise I will eat again before I leave Savannah.”

“Hush. Now eat,” she said, as she placed the sandwich in front of me, along with a cup of the rich coffee that she had brewed. I lifted my turkey sandwich and dug in, then let out a happy sigh. The familiar felt so wonderful—fresh bread and thick sliced turkey from Evans Market. Oh my God. Heaven.

Coming back to the island and taking a seat next me, Aunt Rosemary set her own plate and steaming mug of coffee down. There was a groan of satisfaction at the first sip and then silence as she waited expectantly for the details of what had happened today at Culinary. I picked up my mug and stared into it, as if it held all the answers to what I was going to do next about everything. The show, my cooking… Gideon. I came back to Georgia for answers, but all of a sudden, I’m not sure if there are any truly right solutions to my dilemma. I exhaled silently, set down my cup, and began. 

“Earlier this week, I had a run-in with my boss. He wanted to talk over the next season. No big deal… I had ideas for some new segments and new recipes. I was excited. The negotiations for my contract were grueling, but we got through them. Celeste and Jessa took care of me, so I didn’t think anything was amiss. I stepped into his office … alone… like an idiot. I should have known. From the time he closed the door, it was just… off. He was too attentive, really in my personal space. Touching me on my arms and playing with my hair.”

It gave me chills then the same way it was now. My aunt’s face was a mask of shock and anger, but under that lay fear for what could have happened to me being alone in Elliot’s office. I gathered my courage to tell her the rest of the story.

“I tried very hard to keep things professional. I moved away from him, but of course, he wasn’t taking the hint. He knew the whole meeting was making me uncomfortable. He just continued to leer and smirk. I turned to leave the office and when I walked past him, he grabbed my arm. The look in his eye, Aunt Rosemary. I was scared and I just wanted to leave. He mentioned that I should consider vamping up my show and that a little more sex appeal wouldn’t hurt. Then he said that I was always so sexy in my little tiny skirts and peep toe heels, and wanted to bend me over his desk and fuck me. I shook him off and told him that he needed to get away from me, and never call me again without my agent.”

“Son of a bitch. I’ll kill him.”

“Aunt Rosemary, stop.”

“Bethany, this man is a predator, and he has to be stopped. Do you think you’re the only one he’s done this to?” she shouted. By this point, she was out of her chair and pacing the kitchen, fists clenched and ready to fight. It reminded me of myself this morning. It’s amazing how much alike Clara, Aunt Rosemary, and me were.

“Sit down, please. I’m not done. I have to tell you what happened today and why I’m home early.”

She came back to her seat next to me, and I grabbed her hand. She was my strength, and I needed to get through the rest of this. “I was called in again today. I was told that Celeste and Jessa had been called but, you know, of course they weren’t there,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “He gave me an ultimatum—revamp or be removed. You’d be proud of me. I didn’t back down this time when he put his dirty hands on me, and that’s why there’s a nice handprint on his pretty little face. The fucker.”

She threw back her head and laughed loudly. “Good for you, Bitty. You should have kneed the bastard. Safe to assume after that, you decided it was time to leave?”

I nodded at her with a smile. “This was my first stop.”

She pulled me into her arms and rested her hand on my head. “This is exactly where you’re supposed to be. With us right here at Leighton. We need to make sure you are protected, Bitty. I’m going to call Coford. He’s been taking care of this family for decades, and I want him helping Jessa.”

“Aunt Rosemary, you don’t have to call Mitchell. Jessa has been on this all day. I trust her and Celeste.” Mitchell Coford was our family attorney and has been a part of my life since day one. “I just want to take a few hours to decompress from this. When I’m in New York, I’m always on. There’s never a chance to stop and just be. I want to get in this kitchen and cook again. I want to enjoy Clara’s big night with Sheridan. Some days, I’m not sure if I even want to even cook anymore. Everything is just a mess. I feel so pulled and knocked around from all sides. My crew is depending on me. Culinary is demanding more of me. Demands on top of demands.”

“Bethany, you know how I feel. You know the plans that I have laid out for you and Clara. Honey, you’ve proven yourself. The show has been a success. When you won the show, all that mattered to you was that you had to show everyone you could stand on your own two feet. Thank goodness for Mitchell and Jessa. They looked out for you. Come back to The Cellars and make your other dreams happen. There’s more than enough land for you to build that restaurant you still have the blueprints for in my office.”

Now, it was my turn to be shocked. “You kept my plans for Opal’s? I figured you would have trashed those after I left for New York!”

“Why would I do that? That restaurant is your dream, and it fits here on these grounds. You know I want you and Clara to take over and run this place the way I always planned. With everything going on with this slimy piece of shit boss of yours, you need to consider all of your options. You do have several.” This time, she looked at me with a mischievous grin.

With another long sigh, I slowly threw my head back and looked at the ceiling. “Auntie, I cannot go back to Simmer. You know I can’t. What good would it do for me to try and go back? I’m not going to be any good to them. I’ve lost myself in the politics of TV and the bullshit of celebrity. All that joy I felt in this kitchen, at Simmer. All my passion for food. I’m scared it’s gone.” I pushed my plate and mug to the side and laid my head down on my arms. I wanted to cry and then I wanted to sleep for a few days.

“My darling niece, you’ve had some amazing adventures. You can’t deny that winning the contest and getting to be on TV hasn’t changed your life.”

“I’m grateful, Auntie. I am. I’ve been to beautiful places, and I’ve met some of the world’s best people. Hell, I sat for tea with the Queen! It just feels… empty. Now I have to decide how I’m going to fight Elliot Rowling because I have seen that man in action. He’s going to do everything he can to destroy me and the show.”

“Bethany, we will get through this the same way that we have tackled everything else that has come our way. We’ll do it as a family. Clara will want to know everything, too. She will want to help.”

I watched my aunt slip from her stool, go around the island again, and grab a white cake box from the counter. I could see from the logo on the box that the cake was from Simmer. She grabbed two dessert plates from the cupboard, two forks, and a serving knife. She dished up two large pieces of the delectable lemon cake with thick vanilla icing. I know my meddling aunt. She won’t admit to meddling, of course. She’ll say that she’s helping. She did this on purpose. She wants me to remember Gideon and what we had, hoping that it will push me to stay here, but my God. How could I ever forget the man who turned my world upside down? Three years have flown by, but it hasn’t changed how much I still love that man.

We finished our pieces of Gideon’s amazing pound cake and drained our mugs of some of the best coffee I ever had, in a comfortable silence. My belly was full, and I had started to finally let the day go and relax. My aunt had fed me, I would see my cousin soon, and then we could finish planning the best engagement party that Savannah had ever seen. Maybe it was being away from the hustle and bustle of New York but in the moment, I felt almost settled.

Rosemary picked up our plates and headed toward the sink. She turned around after setting the plates away and sighed. I looked up as she crossed her arms over her chest. With a tilt of her head, she murmured, “So, you have some decisions to make.”

“I do, yes. I promise you I will weigh all my options and make the best decision I can. This has been the longest week, and it’s only Wednesday. I have a lot of irons in the fire this time around.”

“I know you’re going to head out to the farm to see your dad. Judson will be thrilled to see you. Are you planning to see Anna?” Rosemary inquired as she shifted from one foot to the next. It was nervous energy. The expression on her face was filled with apprehension. I sat straight up in my chair and gazed at the woman I loved more than anyone on this earth, the one who was more to me than her sister had ever been. So much for feeling settled.

“No.”

“Bethany, she’s your mother.”

“No, Aunt Rosemary, you are my mother. You came to every recital, every school event, and every competition. You fed me, took me to the doctor, taught me how to be strong and independent. You’ve loved me through everything. I’m not going out to the fucking mausoleum and pretend with a woman who is so vile she can’t stand her own self.”

“Bethany, honey… just please…”

“No, Auntie. No.”

I pushed back the stool and headed to the door that led out to the back deck. I walked to the rail and took in the view in front of me. To my left was a sitting area with comfortable looking couches and lounge chairs surrounding a well-used fire pit. My aunt had installed an outdoor kitchen complete with a beautiful brick pizza oven. Everything was clean and gleamed in the sun. My hands itched to fire up the grill and oven and cook until I was tired. My aunt certainly did like to entertain in style. Out beyond the crystal-clear pool, I could see the trees in the groves. I wanted the scene to soothe me. Between this morning’s events and now talk of Anna Thorne, it seemed my demons were determined to make this day a living breathing nightmare.

Dusk was coming, and the humid Georgia air had lost some of its heaviness. A cooler breeze was finally blowing. I lifted my heavy hair from my neck and felt the kiss of scented air. A few minutes had passed when I heard the door open and turned to see my second favorite person in the world headed toward me.

“Clara!”

“Oh, Bitty! I’m so glad you’re here… I missed you so much!” Clara squealed as she threw her arms around me. I squeezed her and we rocked back and forth, jumping up and down like little girls seeing their favorite TV star. To me, Clara Westbrook was a star and my best friend in the entire world.

“I’ve been here for a while. I’ll admit I was eavesdropping a bit on you and Momma. I didn’t want to interrupt. You’ve had a tough few days, I know. I’m glad you’re here, and we can take care of you.”

“You always were the mother hen, little cousin. I love your face.”

“Not as much as I love yours. Come on, it’s nice out this evening. Let’s sit down. I heard some of what’s going on. How about you tell me the rest?” We headed down the steps and settled in on one of the couches. I tucked my legs under and repeated the events of my day. I watched the range of emotions play across her face, from concern to fury. Her legs bounced with the same nervous energy as her mother.   

“Momma’s right, Bitty. You do have options. In the end, you have to do what’s best for you and for your future. Do I want you here? Well, of course, I do! We all do. Maybe this bastard pulling this shit is a blessing in disguise. Maybe being back in Savannah for the party will give you some clarity.”

“About everything?” I asked her.

“Well, maybe not everything, but at least some of it. Hopefully most of it,” she offered with a grin on her face, but her expression quickly changed. “Bitty, I’m sorry for all of this. I hate this. I wish I could take it away. Is Jessa helping?”

I leaned back into the cushion with an alert gaze at my cousin. I finally had my opening to get the truth of this rushed engagement from her. “Okay, Clare Bear. Time for you to be honest with me. You’re still in love with Jessa, aren’t you?”

Clara opened her mouth to answer. She was on the defensive immediately, her shoulders stiff and her fingers clenching around the fabric of her adorable denim shorts. She tried several times to answer me but, in the end, fell silent and lowered her head. The silence said more than any words could.

“Oh, Clara. Talk to me, honey. Why didn’t you call me?”

Clara lifted her head and her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. “And say what? There’s nothing left to say, Bitty. She gave up, and we ended the relationship. I still love her. I can’t stop thinking about her and what we could have had.”

My eyes widened with surprise as I watched tears fall down her cheeks. I reached out to wipe them away. “Then, for God’s sake, why are you pushing this engagement with Sheridan? Is this really fair to her? She loves you, Clara.”

My so very clever cousin turned her eyes on me and tilted her head. “You still love Gideon. Are you being fair to him by not telling him how you really feel? You’ve ran from him for over three years.”

“Dammit! You too? Clara, you told me yourself that he’s dating someone. He’s moving on and that means I have to move on too! I care about him, but I want him to be happy. He made the choice in the end, just like Jessa did. He’s going on, and I can’t interfere with that, can I?”

Clara’s face was a mix of compassion and anguish. She lowered her eyes, as if she was trying to avoid telling me something I should know. I scooted closer to her on the couch and placed my hand on her leg, trying to stop her shaking. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. Something was wrong.

“What are you not telling me, Clara?”

Finally, she gave me her clouded green eyes. “So much has happened since you were home for a long visit. You always come in and fly right back out. You’ve not stepped foot in Simmer since the day before you left for New York. If you had only stayed a while and really talked to Gideon.” She gave me a small smile. “Honey, it’s not my story to tell.”

“You and your mother have always had the worse type of crush on him. If this is about Mrs. Lynn, I already know. I knew before I left for New York. He said it was why he couldn’t leave to go with me.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mrs. Lynn is still sick, yes. She’s been improving. You know with the MS she’s never going to be totally well, but she’s holding her own as much as she can.”

My brows drew together and I crossed my arms over my heart. Clara was scaring me—really scaring me. “Then what is it?”

“Gideon has a son.”

Just like that, with a look of resignation and a drop of her shoulder, my best friend dropped news on me that I never thought I would hear… unless it was about me.

My mouth fell, and it felt like every drop of air left my lungs. My eyes widened and I tried to swallow past the knot lodged in my throat.

“A son? Gideon has a… When?”

Oh my God, he really did move on. All I could do was stare at her, my head shaking in disbelief. No, no, no. Over and over. I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands. I was too late. Clara was right. I should have talked to him. I should have told him that I understood why he needed to stay. I had called him a coward. But maybe I was the coward for taking off instead of staying and facing what was chasing me.

Whoever she was, she’s lucky to have started a family with such a great guy. A little one with his eyes like the ocean and long curling eyelashes. His dimpled smile. That was supposed to be me giving him that precious gift. Oh God… I knew I waited too long. What was left of my heart stopped beating in my chest, and I felt the cold grip of heartbreak take up residence in my heart.

So much this week already, and this was the last thing I wanted to hear. I pulled my legs up and grabbed my knees. I dropped my head; my hair fell and hid my face from Clara. I didn’t want her to see me lose it but oh… oh, this hurt so much. Too much to handle without falling apart. My chest heaved with a pain that I knew wouldn’t move anytime soon. My shoulders trembled and anguished wails rocked me. Clara pulled me into her arms and shushed me. She wanted to comfort me, but I was so numb.  

I thought nothing could hurt more than the moment I walked out of Simmer and away from Gideon. I was wrong. Nothing hurt more than knowing he had moved on and started over, that I couldn’t get him back. I knew him and there was no way he would leave his child here and go back to New York with me. I pulled back from my cousin and my feet hit the concrete. I had to go. I had to think… breathe… scream. I looked around frantically as I stood up to go back into the kitchen, when Clara grabbed my hand to stop me.

“Bethany, before you run, you have to listen to me.”

“Clara, I can’t. No more tonight, okay? Please.”

My heart was racing, my breaths were shallow. I was going to completely fall apart and I couldn’t do that in front of her. Of course she had seen me at some of the worst moments, but this was bigger than anything I had ever felt.

I needed to be alone. My feet wanted to move.

Clara let go of my hand and stood up to stop me from leaving.

“Bethany. There’s more you should know. A lot more. You spent years running from Gideon and I understand why. He broke you. He lied to you. I get all of that. But that man has been through so much in the last year. He needs you as much you need him. Especially now. It’s past time for you to stop running and start listening.”

“He seems okay to me! Fuck, Clara. He’s a father. He moved on.”

“He had no choice.”

“He had no choice? Hmmm, I see. How many times have I had to hear about Gideon and his choices?”

“Bitty, Galen is gone.”

“What?! What do you mean, he’s gone? Is he back in trouble?”

“You know Galen went into the Army.”

“Yeah, he enlisted right after I left.” She gave me a sad smile and suddenly the realization hits me, knocking the air from my chest again. 

“Oh no. Noooooo!”

“Afghanistan. Ambushed. There were no survivors. His entire unit was killed.”

My legs gave way and I sunk to the couch. My mind reeled and grief as sharp as a knife’s edge spread through my limbs. I could hear Clara telling me the rest of what had happened but my thoughts were only on...

Mrs. Lynn… Maxi… oh, my God.

Gideon.