Chapter Five
“Fourth generation,” Pippa exclaimed, flipping another page in one of Mabry Jenkins’s photo albums. “That’s a lovely thing, isn’t it?”
“It’ll go on through the sixth if my daughter has her way,” the older man said proudly. “Maggie’s talking her husband into moving out here so she can take over for me when the time comes. He’s some kind of computer genius, provides real well for his family, but he works from home more than not these days. She’s my only one, so it’s her or nothing, I’m afraid. My brother ran this place with me his whole adult life. Never did have any kids of his own. He was five years my junior, but he’s passed on now. Three years before my wife, God rest them both.” Mabry turned the page. “My daughter has two boys.” He pointed a gnarled finger at a recent addition to the scrapbook. “That’s her there with her husband.” He flipped the page and pointed to another photo. “These are my grandsons. Twins, don’t you know,” he added, his love for them clear in his voice. “I figure one of ’em might want the place when their time comes.”
Pippa looked up from the grinning, towheaded young men, each sporting a different university logo on the front of his hoodie, and smiled at Mabry. “You can’t ask for a better legacy than that, now, can you?”
“No,” he said, “no, you certainly can’t.” He closed the book and set it back on the coffee table. “Farming isn’t like it used to be when I was coming up, but apples are about as sure a crop as you can get around here.” He smiled, showing a few gaps here and there, his pale blue eyes a bit faded but otherwise still sharp. “My daughter knows all the ins and outs, of course, seeing as she helped run this place from the time she could walk. She’ll do fine. Place runs itself more than not these days.”
Pippa seriously doubted that. She knew for a fact that Mr. Jenkins did a fair share himself, as she’d found him in one of his outbuildings when she’d arrived that morning, lying half underneath a tractor he was bent on repairing. He’d finished that and dragged what he’d told her was a hay baler to the middle of the space and set to working on that next, and after that he started on some other engine he had up on a sawhorse. He wasn’t a particularly big man, but time had stooped his spine a bit, and the fingers on his hands were no longer as straight as they’d probably once been. Yet he worked along as if he was a man half his age, lifting heavy equipment, dragging it where it needed to go, crawling over or under it as needed, fixing what was broken, all the while keeping up a running conversation with her. After all that, he’d asked her in for some tea as if he’d done nothing more than water a few plants. He’d tired her out just watching him.
She’d offered to park the snowmobile in the barn, but he said he’d be using it later to go out and check on his trees and repair some fencing the snow had knocked down. She didn’t doubt for a second he could do all that and more before lunch.
“What brings you out to Blue Hollow Falls?” he asked her. “From the sounds of it, I’m guessing you don’t live around here.”
Pippa laughed. “No, I don’t, but I’m beginning to envy those of you who do. I’m over from Dublin for a bit of an adventure,” she told him. “I’m originally from Donegal, though, clear across the country. They’ve a good farming community there, too. Reminds me a bit of here, at least what I’ve seen so far.”
“Not much to see with all the white stuff out there,” Mabry told her. He stood slowly and ran his palms over his hips before stepping out from around the small coffee table. He wore denim overalls with several layers of shirts beneath and a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt as the outer layer. His skin was weathered and wrinkled, and there were age spots as well, but he had a solid look to him, with a shock of white hair on his head and a quick, ready smile.
Pippa had liked him on sight. “I don’t get to see snow much, so this was a pleasant surprise.”
“It’ll be gone soon enough. Weather report’s calling for sixty-degree weather and a good bout of rain headed our way. It’ll be muddier than a cow herd in a pond before you know it, and we’ll be wishing this white stuff was back, covering it all up.”
Pippa stood, too, realizing she was keeping him from his work. His place was far more modest than the showcase style of Seth’s vineyard chalet. A white clapboard frame with a pitched, tin-covered roof, the house had a small entryway and living room area. The dining room was off to one side, with a little kitchen beyond, and a staircase leading up to what she assumed were a few bedrooms was on the other side of the foyer.
It was all quaintly old-fashioned, tidily furnished and decorated, with the small, floral patterned couch they’d been seated on, a recliner nearby that clearly saw much use, and a coffee table with its fancy bent legs between the two. A basket full of magazines and a standing lamp were positioned next to the recliner and a small bookshelf crammed full of paperbacks and a few hardcovers was just behind it. She smiled at the old-fashioned television with the long antennae going this way and that. It sat on a small, rolling stand next to the fireplace. It was just like the one her grandda had had in his croft at home.
There were framed photos on the mantel and dotting the open spaces on the wall between other framed prints. More photos lined the wall all the way up the stairs. Some were black and white, some in color. She recognized his daughter in many of them and spied photos of his grandchildren at various ages.
Pippa assumed all the knickknacks scattered about had belonged to his wife. Most men she knew weren’t keen on gewgaws, much less the dusting they required, so she thought it was sweet that he’d left them all there. And she noted there wasn’t a speck of dust around them, either. If she hadn’t already liked the man, that would have cemented him as a friend for life.
She picked up their teacups and carried them to the kitchen.
“Just leave those in the sink there,” Mabry said. “Thank you.”
She came back to the living room and picked up her jacket. “I don’t want to keep you any longer than I have already,” she said. “Thank you for the loan, and the conversation.”
“World would go much better if we all took a moment for a cup of tea and spent a minute talking to each other. Thanks for listening to this old man ramble on about his life. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“It was my absolute pleasure. I’d almost think you had some Irish in you,” Pippa added with a smile. “You make a good pot of tea.”
He beamed at that. “My wife’s ancestors hailed from Wales, so she was a teetotaler herself. Got me to drinking the stuff when I couldn’t handle the coffee any longer.” His smile spread, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Credit for any brewing skills go to her.”
Pippa’s smile softened. “I wish I could have met her.”
Mabry nodded. “Annie would have loved hearing you talk, that’s for certain.”
Pippa laughed at that, delighted by his frankness, and Mabry chuckled along with her. “Seth should be here shortly,” she said. “I truly appreciate your holding on to my bags for me.” Mabry had helped her haul them to the porch earlier, where they stood in a neat stack.
“Looks like you’re fixing to stay on a bit,” he said. “How did you come to know Seth? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Pippa smiled, thinking that Blue Hollow Falls wasn’t much different from the wee village where she’d grown up. Folks back home were sincerely friendly, always helpful, and not a little nosy. She suspected Mr. Jenkins was more interested in looking out for the well-being of his neighbor than motivated by the desire for gossip. But she was equally certain that whatever was said between them here this morning would end up being common knowledge in town, likely before lunch.
Despite her intention to remain “under the radar,” as her sister Katie had termed it, Pippa wasn’t alarmed by that probability. In fact, she felt surprisingly comforted by it. She had no doubt that if Mabry Jenkins thought she needed safeguarding, he’d be as stalwart a protector as she’d find anywhere. She couldn’t say that for certain about the rest of the townsfolk, given she hadn’t met any of them yet, but she knew that while her own villagers back home might feast on gossip as heartily and regularly as they did on tea and scones, they also held that same information closely among themselves. Katie had said Moira promised it would be much the same way in Blue Hollow Falls.
“We just met yesterday,” Pippa told him, her smile widening when his snowy eyebrows climbed. “I’m doing a bit of a house swap with Seth’s sister Moira. She’ll be staying at a croft I own in the village where I was raised, and I’ll have the privilege of staying here, at a vineyard in these beautiful, snow-capped mountains.” She leaned in, as if sharing a secret. “I don’t mind telling you, as lovely as County Donegal is, I think I might have scored the better end of the trade.”
Mabry chuckled at that. “You might have enjoyed it more if you’d come a month or two from now,” he said. “I don’t know how lovely it will all look to you when it’s covered in mud.”
“If I’m lucky, I hope to see it through to the first blooms of spring.”
Mabry’s eyes widened even further at that, and not a little concern tinged his features.
“Will that be a problem?” she asked. “I know Seth wants to help his sister by making this swap happen, but please tell me if there’s something I should know.” She smiled. “Truth be told, I don’t think he learned about this swap himself until just very recently.” Her smile turned wry. “Possibly right before my snow-covered arrival. But I don’t want to be a nuisance,” she hurried to add. “I can make other lodging arrangements.”
She was hoping she wouldn’t have to do that, though. She felt ... better, already. Content. Settled. Or the beginnings of all those things, at least. She was happy for the escape from the chaos, the pressures, and the endless chatter and speculation that was her present day-to-day life.
Mabry waved a hand. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Now he leaned forward, as if also sharing a secret, his own smile a bit mischievous, which charmed her right to the core. “It’s not for me to say, of course, but I think our Mr. Brogan could do with a spot of sunshine such as yourself. Boy works himself too hard.”
Pippa laughed at that, though given what she knew of Seth’s acquired menagerie, the news didn’t surprise her. “That’s very kind of you to say. I’ve offered to help out,” she added, “but perhaps I’d just be in the way.”
“It may not seem it, but this is a busy time for him, too,” Mabry told her, “tending the vines, prepping them for spring. Spring, then, is a whole other thing entirely. It’s the busiest time, second only to harvest, and I know this season is a critical one for him, seeing as he’s just getting the place off and running.”
“Oh, I see. I didn’t know that,” she said, feeling a bit shamed by focusing so strongly on her own needs that she really hadn’t truly considered the cost to Seth. “Maybe it’s best if I do make other arrangements, then.” She tamped down a wave of disappointment. You’re not the only one with life problems that need sorting out.
Mabry gave her a critical once-over, looking a wee bit disappointed himself. “We’ve got a nice inn in town that would probably suit you just fine.”
“Thank you,” she said, resigned to the decision. “I appreciate that.” She didn’t want to be in an inn with other guests, no matter how lovely it might be. She’d have to do a little research, see if she could find some other rental property that was more secluded.
“But, if you mean what you say,” Mabry went on, pulling her from her musings, “about pitching in, well, maybe what Seth really needs is to not look a gift horse in the mouth, if you understand my meaning.”
Pippa smiled, flattered by his persistence. “That’s kind of you, but, in all honesty, I know nothing about vineyards, much less making wine.”
“You said you grew up on a farm? I can’t imagine sheep or goats are much different from one place to another. He’s got more than a few of both. Two local kids come up to help, but it would free him up a bit not to have to deal with the livestock.” He looked at her and she thought that though his eyes might be a bit dim with age, they still saw things quite clearly. “He’s not only single-handedly building up his own business, but also helping Sawyer and the others with the silk mill renovation, which put him further behind.”
“Silk mill,” she repeated, surprised and intrigued. “Out here?”
Mabry nodded. “Long since defunct. They’ve completely renovated the old place, turned it into what they call an artisan community center, or some such. Thanks in large part to Addie Pearl—I’m sure you’ll meet her sooner than later—Blue Hollow Falls has more than its fair share of artists and crafters in residence. She’s a weaver, but we’ve got carvers, musicians, painters, soap- and candlemakers, even a fellow who works with glass blowing and the like. All part of our Bluebird Crafters’ Guild.”
“That must be what Seth meant by the Bluebird ladies,” she said, and Mabry nodded. “He mentioned they come up and sheer his sheep in trade for the wool. So, it’s a whole community. How lovely,” Pippa said. Somewhere inside her, a little ache formed, or maybe it was a bit of yearning. Life here was calling to her more strongly by the moment.
“I wish my Annie had lived long enough to see that,” Mabry said. “She made lace, you see. By hand. Tatting, she called it. Learned it from her Welsh grandmother. She’d have loved having a place to work with others, maybe even sell a piece.” He shook his head, but smiled in reminiscence. “It’s a worthy endeavor, at any rate. Just opened and it’s already bringing some much-needed life to this area, in a way that doesn’t compromise what we stand for. My orchard here will benefit from the flow of new visitors, as will Seth’s winery once it’s up and producing. None of it would have been possible but for Sawyer Hartwell, and folks like Seth, and Wilson McCall, who gave their time, skill, and energy to make it all happen. Now it’s Seth’s turn to make his own place into something special.”
“Sounds like a wonderful town here, with you all looking out for each other, pitching in. My childhood home was like that.” She smiled with her own reminiscence, grateful for those particular memories. It had been a long time since she’d thought about that time in her life.
Mabry looked directly at her. “But a man’s life can’t be all about work, you understand?”
Pippa laughed then. “Are you trying to play matchmaker?”
“Are you attached?” he asked, and she shook her head, laughing again. He went on before she could gently explain that she wasn’t here looking for a beau. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Miss Pippa MacMillan,” he went on. “I don’t claim to know everything, or even a little about most things, but I do know something about family, and life. You’re both looking like you could use a bit of each at the moment.”
Touched, she said, “That’s very sweet of you. We’ll see how things work out.” She didn’t want to get the older man’s hopes up, but a bit of life and family sounded just about perfect to her right now. “If I do end up staying on, perhaps you can come up and join us for supper one night? I’d have to check with Seth, but I make a pretty decent Irish stew, and a downright sinful shepherd’s pie.”
Mabry hooted out a little laugh. “That’s what I want to hear. And you know what? I just might do that. You name the night and I’ll get myself on up there. Truth be told, I’ve been itching to see what he’s done to the place. I’ll admit, I never did cotton to the man who bought Dinwiddie’s old dairy farm way back when with an idea to growing grapes there. Not that he bothered to spend a minute meeting any of his neighbors. Then he up and went right back to France before barely harvesting a single crop, leaving the place to go straight to seed. Lovely couple eventually purchased the property. I came around to seeing their vision for the place, and Annie was downright tickled. Such a shame, what happened to them, him passing on before he’d even got his first harvest, her following him so soon after.” He shook his head and sighed. “But I believe all things happen as they do for a reason. There’s a greater plan going on, and your Mr. Brogan is exactly what that place needed, at exactly the right time. He’ll do right by it. I can feel it.”
Pippa wanted to tell him that Seth wasn’t “her” anything, but she hoped Mabry was right. Maybe this place is exactly what you need, at exactly the right time, too. “Sounds like the vineyard is due for some good luck for a change,” she said, pushing that thought aside.
Mabry nodded. “You planning on getting yourself a set of wheels while you’re out here? I’ve got an old farm truck you can borrow, if need be.”
“Oh, that’s very dear of you to offer. I had a leased vehicle all lined up, but then I landed and saw all the snow and decided that sporty little car wouldn’t get me very far. All the four-wheel-drive vehicles were gone, so I just hired a driver to get me this far and thought I’d figure it out from there. We drive on the other side of the road back at home, and the truth of it is, these days I don’t actually do a lot of driving. And I’ve never driven in snow. So, maybe it’s best to wait and start up when the conditions have improved.”
Mabry smiled. “Sun’s out for now, and the temperatures are up. Between the plowing and the sun, should be all clear out there shortly. Rain coming will take care of the rest. We don’t get much traffic up this way. Would be good roads to get some practice on. I’ve a feeling after seeing you handle that snowmobile, you’ll do just fine.” He winked at her. “You come on down when you’re ready and we’ll go for a spin. I taught my daughter and both my grandsons to drive. I can teach you, too.”
Pippa beamed. “You know, I believe I’ll take you up on that! If you’re sure you have the time.” She picked up the pad of paper that sat by the old-fashioned black telephone and wrote down her number. “Call me if or when you do and it’s a date.” On impulse, she gave him a quick hug, lifting up on her toes to add a peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Mr. Jenkins. My dad would be happy to know I’ve got you looking out for me.”
It was hard to tell on those weathered cheeks, but she was pretty sure he blushed, which charmed her all the more.
“Get Seth to take you on into town, introduce you to everyone,” Mabry said. “We always enjoy talking to someone with a story to tell. I’m sure they’ll want to hear tales of your home, and they’ll share a few of theirs.”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon,” she said, meaning it.
The sound of a large truck engine rumbled outside.
“I think my ride is here.” She grinned. “Thank you again for the loan, and the driving lessons.”
“I’m guessing you won’t need but one, but I’m always happy to help. And the offer of the truck loan stands, too. Don’t go spending money on something you can borrow. Save your pennies for something you need.”
Pippa nodded. “Sound advice.” She liked to think that despite her newfound stability where money was concerned, she’d retained the frugal mindset she’d been raised with. Her parents worked hard for what they had, and had taught her to do the same. It had taken a few years before her parents—her father in particular—would allow her to help them along, as she was more than able to do now. She’d explained that they’d given her the foundation upon which to thrive, so the least she could do was thank them in kind.
She was still fairly certain her father was embarrassed by the things she’d done to help her family, but seeing how delighted her ma had been with a new dishwasher, and a car that didn’t have faulty windows, he’d succumbed and been gruffly thankful. She would have bought them a whole new house if they’d let her, but understood his pride couldn’t handle such a thing.
Pride was a tricky thing. Being here, in Mr. Jenkin’s modest home, seeing how hard he worked for what he had, she knew if she asked him, he’d say he wanted for nothing. What he had functioned, and if it didn’t, she suspected he’d fix it until it simply couldn’t be repaired again. Her father was exactly the same way. She, on the other hand, could lease an entire fleet of cars if she wanted to, without even having to consult her business manager. That she had a business manager at all said everything that needed saying on that point, really.
While she didn’t want to borrow something that Mr. Jenkins might be needing, she understood there was pride at stake here, too. She knew it likely made Mabry feel good to think he was helping out a young lass, as it would if it were her father making the offer to one of her friends. His simple offer also made her realize that perhaps she’d grown more accustomed to her newfound lifestyle than she’d realized. It was humbling, and she thanked him for that reminder, too.
“If you can honestly spare it,” she said, “then I’d appreciate the loan a great deal. Perhaps if you need anything in town, I could run errands for you?” She smiled. “I always like to help out where I can, too.”
“That I can see. It’s an admirable trait that will do you well.” He smiled and walked to the front door as they heard Seth’s boots on the porch. “I think we might be able to work something out.”
Mabry opened the door for her in time to see Seth with two of her bags propped on his broad shoulders, and another under one arm, and two more, one in each hand. Her breath caught a little, surprising her. Not because she was stunned by the load he’d hefted as if it were nothing, but because the sight of him quite literally took her breath away. He was a towering pillar of a man, sturdy-legged, narrow-hipped, and oh so broad shouldered. His long hair was loose today, and flowed in uneven waves down past his shoulder blades. In the bright sunshine, she saw now that the dark blond did in fact have more than a fair share of red in it, which was the main color of his beard. A mountain man, indeed.
Her mind flashed on how it had felt when he’d put those big hands of his on her, so gently supporting her when she’d gotten winded and a bit light-headed. What he’d looked like, fresh from the shower, then later, out in the barn, sitting in that stall he’d converted into an oddball, makeshift office. He’d looked all fierce and focused as he typed things on the keyboard with remarkable lightning-swift speed, eyeing the monitor as if daring it not to show him the results he was looking for.
“That boy could carry the world on his shoulders; I’m fair convinced of it,” Mabry said. “I told him they must grow them like the redwoods out west.”
Pippa laughed at that, even as other parts of her body were reacting to the sight of Seth with a surge of unmitigated want. “He must have eaten all of his spinach as a boy.” She glanced at Mabry, who arched a surprised snowy eyebrow. “We know Popeye over in Ireland. My brothers were big fans of the sailor man. They saw the movie version as kids, and some friends of ours sent them some of the original cartoons on VHS tapes. They watched those things endlessly.”
Mabry nodded. “Did you know that the voice actor who did Popeye for more than forty years married the woman who did Olive Oyl?”
Now Pippa’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Is that right? How lovely!” She nudged him with her elbow. “You’re a softy, is what you are, Mabry Jenkins. A true romantic. I’m betting your wife would be fast to agree with me.”
“Falling in love is one of the best things we do,” he told her plainly, blue eyes alight as he did. “You can do a lot in life, but none so great as that.” Now he nudged her and gave her another wink. “I’m here to tell you, it’s even better if they fall right back.”
Pippa was still laughing when she turned to cross the porch, and walked smack into a wall of Seth. He caught her by the elbows and steadied her.
Flustered, and by far more than the accidental collision, Pippa opted to play the ham to cover it. With Seth still holding her, she arched her head back in a dramatic pose and blew a kiss at Mabry. “Until we meet again.”
The older man surprised her by sketching a short bow. “I look forward to it, m’dear. You kids enjoy the rest of the day.” He looked at Seth. “You take care of this one, you hear?”
Seth looked between the two as Pippa straightened, then gave a slight shake of his head as if he wasn’t quite sure what he’d stumbled into, but whatever it was, he’d clearly missed the thread. “I think she does a pretty good job of taking care of herself,” he told Mabry kindly, and when the older man just fixed him with a steady look, Seth chuckled and added, “But I’ll do my best. I appreciate your helping out like you did.”
“Not a problem,” the older man said. “Happy to lend a hand.”
Pippa waited for Seth to give the older man a hard time about the snowmobile loan, but he merely nodded, then guided her down the recently shoveled and salted front steps, hand still firmly under her elbow. The sun was out in full now, making the snow an almost blinding sea of crystalline white. She noted that Mabry was right. With the sun on them, the plowed drive and road had already mostly melted, revealing the gravel and mud underneath.
Seth helped her up into the cab of the enormous pickup truck, then closed the door and headed around the back before she could say thank you. Instead she waved to Mabry, who was still standing on the porch, then settled her seat belt across her chest and lap as Seth climbed in and did the same. They were on the road heading on up the mountainside a moment later.
“Looks like you’ve made another friend,” Seth said.
“He’s a lovely man,” Pippa replied as she took in the surrounding countryside. It was breathtaking all covered in white. The mountains had been shrouded in heavy cloud cover and fog the day before. She’d had no idea how stunning the view truly was. “It’s incredibly beautiful up here,” she said. “The view from your chalet must be impressive indeed.”
“Chalet?”
She glanced at him. “All wood and glass, sitting on a mountaintop. What would you call it?”
He shrugged and nodded in conciliation. “I just call it home.”
“Was that the house that was there when you bought the place? Seems fairly modern for the older couple who lived on the vineyard before you. Mabry told me about them,” she added, when he looked surprised. “Did the owner before that build it? The man who bought the place when it was a dairy farm?”
“You had quite the conversation,” Seth said, and she just smiled sweetly at him. He smiled as well, shook his head, then looked back to the road. “Well, the original farmhouse, back when the acreage was used as a dairy farm, is gone now. That happened before I was born. All that’s left of it are the stone barn and the round barn, and a few other smaller outbuildings scattered over the property.”
“Mabry said he wasn’t too fond of the man who bought the farm from Mr. Dinwiddie,” Pippa commented. “Said he didn’t even bother getting to know his neighbors.”
“Emile Fournier,” Seth said, nodding. “I don’t think he bothered to make many friends in the area. It was strictly a business setup for him, no house on the property. Fournier planted twenty full acres of vines, with plans to expand from there. I think he intended to tear down the rest of the structures, too, but he didn’t get that far. When the Bianchis bought the place, it had been sitting for a very long time, more than a decade.”
“Mabry told me he and his wife, Annie, liked the Bianchis quite a lot,” Pippa said. “Mabry hadn’t been too fond of the vineyard plan before then, but said their enthusiasm changed his mind.”
Seth nodded. “The Bianchis were the ones who built the house. Chalet,” he corrected himself, shooting her a fast grin. “I never met Gilbert Bianchi, but his wife, Sarah, told me he was a big fan of Frank Lloyd Wright. She loved the mountain homes out west where they’d vacationed in the past, so the house was some compromise between the two. Gilbert was a retired surgeon and Sarah was a horticulture illustrator. Some of her work is still in the house.”
“Are those the prints in my room? They’re lovely. Wow. I’ll have to look her up now. That’s really something.”
Seth nodded. “She was also an heiress, modest money, or at least that’s what she said. So, between the two, finances were never a concern. The vineyard was really sort of a retirement dream of Gilbert’s, and Sarah had always wanted to play around with event planning, weddings and the like. Gilbert’s ideas were far more modest than Emile’s. I think the Bianchis envisioned it more as an event venue.”
“I’m glad you kept the stone barn,” she said. “It’s a beautiful structure.”
“I think so, too,” Seth said. “I have Gilbert to thank for that. He was a history buff and respected the land and what came before. He’s responsible for renovating both the bluestone barn and the round barn, or hiring the companies who did. He used local labor where possible, which endeared him immediately to the folks here. I named the winery Bluestone & Vine in part because of that barn. It’ll be the tasting room, eventually.”
“How perfect,” she said, delighted. “And the round barn? You mentioned it last night. Where is it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.”
“Down past the stone barn. It’s the original dairy barn, built in the early nineteen-hundreds, when the Dinwiddies came and started their farm. The lower two levels are still designed for cows and milking, but the upper levels have been renovated. Gilbert liked the shape and thought the main levels, which are accessed on the back side, would make unique places to store the wine casks. The top level is built around a grain silo, which is empty now. His plan was to set up that area with the grape press and oak barrels so visitors could stomp grapes as well. I’ll follow through on his plan. It’s a good one all around.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that real? Like, with your bare feet?”
He glanced at her. “Until they developed wine presses, that’s how wine was made. Well, that and natural pressing, where they piled the grapes up and let the weight of them force out the juice.”
“Have you done it? Stomping?”
He nodded. “I have.”
“And?”
He grinned then. “It’s . . . an unusual feeling.”
She barked a laugh at that, then gasped and quickly covered her throat.
Seth immediately braked the truck. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, rolled her eyes at herself, and waved him to keep on driving, feeling like an idiot. “I’m fine, truly. I’m sorry. It’s . . . a reflex. Too many months worrying about sneezing or coughing or doing anything that might set back the results of the surgery.” She tried to pass it off as no big deal. When, of course, it was a very big deal. Sitting-in-a-truck-half-a-world-away-because-she-was-too-chicken-to- sing big deal. But he didn’t need to know that. Hopefully, other than Katie, no one would ever know that.
Seth drove on up the winding dirt and gravel road. Even though his property was right up the mountain from Mabry’s, the road connecting the two seemed to wind back and forth all over the place. The snowmobile path had definitely been quite a shortcut.
“Moira mentioned you were coming here to rest, but you told me yesterday that it’s all good now,” he said after a minute or two had passed. He glanced at her, then back to the road. “So, why come all this way then?” He flashed her a smile, lightening the sudden serious shift in conversation. “Leaving your star-ish entourage behind and everything.”
She smiled at that. Seth Brogan was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger to her. And yet, it was surprisingly tempting to tell him everything. He was a caretaker by nature, of everything from ten-year-old girls to traumatized llamas. Her instincts told her she could trust him. But telling anyone that she was afraid to sing, that she might not ever make another album, or set foot on stage again, thereby possibly putting the entire cottage industry that was “Pippa MacMillan, Singer” in jeopardy . . . she couldn’t risk that news getting out.
There was no decision to be made about whether or not she wanted to sing. She loved making music, loved performing. Being personally responsible for the livelihoods of those who now worked for her added to the stress, but she loved her star-ish entourage, every last one of them, like the family they’d truly become.
“Perspective,” she said, at length, which was truthful, if not exactly specific. “It’s been a roller-coaster ride this past year since the surgery, and I needed to gracefully step away and sort through it all. I can’t do that in Ireland, or anywhere in Europe, actually. It’s such a bizarre thing, celebrity.”
He glanced over at her again. “I can’t say I know anything about what that’s like. My job before this was as an Army Ranger.” He shot her a fast smile. “We worked very hard not to be seen.” He looked back at the road. “I imagine it must feel like a kind of out-of-body experience. Like you’re just you, but everyone around you suddenly sees someone worthy of the kind of attention a celebrity draws.”
“I never thought of it that way, but you’ve got it exactly right,” she exclaimed. “It’s true, you know. You’re literally the same person you’ve always been, nothing much special. You can sing a bit, and write a catchy tune, maybe play a fiddle half decently. But through some magical potion of right time, right place, right ... something, those things catch on with this group, then that, and then it grows and grows, and suddenly everyone knows your name. But not you. Not really.”
“A household name and a complete stranger, all at the same time.”
“Exactly. Even looking back, I honestly can’t track it. I suddenly went from sitting on stage in a dank and smoky pub to walking out on stage in front of more people than I’ve ever seen in my life. And they are shouting my name and singing my songs right along with me. Words I scribbled on the back of this napkin or that mobile bill, mind you. It’s the oddest thing, really, but at the same time, wonderful and amazingly gratifying, to see my music bringing joy to so many.”
She shifted her gaze from him back out to the wintry white landscape. “But I still climb into bed at night, as I always have, get up in the morning, wash my face, pour a cup of tea, and I’m exactly who I’ve always been, at least inside my head. And I think, well then. Okay. This is a bit of fun, isn’t it? I can sing and folks can enjoy it. I can actually make a decent living from it all, but nothing much else to see here, right? Then I’ll open the morning paper, and there’s my face splashed all over the front of it, with some huge headline proclaiming I’m snogging this poor actor—who only stepped backstage to get an autograph for his young daughter, mind you—or I’m pregnant with triplets. Again! Or any other thing that will sell a tabloid, and I shake my head and think ... who in the world is that girl? That’s not me. I’m just Pippa MacMillan from Donegal.” She settled back in her seat again. “Out-of-body. That’s the perfect way to describe it.”
He chuckled and she glanced at him, smiling, too. “I can’t say I can even imagine most of that,” Seth said. “Is the trade-off of your pleasure in singing, and making a living—a very good one, it seems—worth the intrusion into every part of your life? It must be one hell of a mind game, seeing people making up lies about you, wondering who believes it, or if that even matters, since they don’t know you, or you them.” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’d want to imagine it, much less live it.” He glanced at her. “No insult intended.”
“None taken,” she said honestly. “I must seem like a spoiled brat, complaining, but I’m not really. Complaining, I mean. Just trying to convey it all, and the hard work it takes. Even though it’s working at something I love doing, it’s still work.”
“That part I do understand. I do complain,” he added. “Ask Dexter. He gets an earful daily. Just because you love something doesn’t mean it doesn’t frustrate you. Often, at times. The rewards outweigh that though. That part I can identify with. Or, in my case, I hope the rewards will make it all worthwhile,” he added with a short laugh.
“For me the music is the reward. The success, lovely as it is, is a bonus on top of that. I’d still be singing in pubs if the rest hadn’t happened.” She realized the truth of that as she said it, and it was a bit of a jolt. She filed that away for later examination, too. “I would have said I wasn’t spoiled by success, but a few hours with Mabry and I’m not so sure I haven’t been more seduced by this new life than I realized,” she added with a laugh. “Maybe my coming here will be good for me in ways I haven’t even begun to comprehend yet.” She looked at him, her words sincere. “Thank you for putting me up. Mabry told me how busy you are at this time of year, and I want you to know, I do plan on helping out. I’d like to cook. Oh, and it’s possible I may have invited Mabry over for some shepherd’s pie, but no date on that. And I’ll help in the barn, too. I’m sure I can find a way to—” She broke off as he turned the lumbering truck into a recently cleared driveway and pulled up in front of a small log cabin. So that’s why the drive had seemed inordinately long. She looked from the cabin, to him, then back to the cabin, and felt her shoulders slump. Her heart did a little of that, too. “Oh,” she said softly.
“Pippa, I’m sorry.” He looked truly chagrined. “I just—”
“No,” she said, looking back at him. “I completely understand. Actually, I was going to offer to find a place, but Mabry had me more or less talked out of it by the time you arrived. Maybe I just wanted him to.” She pasted on a smile. “It was kind of you to go to the trouble of finding me a spot. Is this yours, too?”
He shook his head. “A friend of mine owns it. Noah Tyler. He owns the inn in town and uses this mostly for clients who come up here to fish or hunt.”
She nodded, trying to cover her disappointment. It stung, though, even if she understood why he’d done it. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t. “Mabry mentioned him, too. If you’ll give me Noah’s contact information, I’ll handle this directly with him.”
Just then Seth’s cell phone went off, sending it vibrating across the top of the console between them. She saw the name on the screen before he picked it up. Mabry Jenkins.
“Hey, Mabry,” Seth said. “Did we forget something?”
Pippa couldn’t hear what Mabry said, but Seth’s face went momentarily slack, then he immediately shifted into full on commander mode. He’d mentioned being an Army Ranger, and in that moment, she fully believed it.
“You stay put,” Seth told him. “Don’t move anything. We’re coming right down. No, you’re not all right. Stay put, dammit!” he said, his voice rising. “I’m putting Pippa on the phone. You talk to her until we get back down there. Don’t hang up. Talk to her.”
Seth didn’t ask her, he just handed the phone to her, then jerked the truck into reverse. “Mabry. He’s gotten himself pinned under part of his tractor. I think he’s having a heart attack. Talk to him. Try to keep him calm. Do you have a phone?”
Heart thumping now, Pippa put Seth’s phone to her ear and fished hers out of her jacket pocket. “Mr. Jenkins?” she said into the phone as she handed her own to Seth. “If you’d wanted my company for a bit longer, you didn’t have to go to these lengths,” she said, trying to sound teasing, as if everything would be fine. “I’d have been happy to keep handing you tools, you know.”
Seth nodded at her, urging her to continue. He got the truck turned around and they were heading pell-mell back down the curving mountain road as he punched 9-1-1 into her cell phone.