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“We won’t know whether it’s worth more than ten cents until we speak with a coin dealer, but in case it has any value, I thought you might like a taste of partnering in a winery.”
“What do you mean?” Her head spun toward him.
“Want to learn how to trim vines?” He tried to keep a straight face.
She groaned. “What am I getting into?”
“Exactly.” He grinned. “After four hours’ working in the vineyards tomorrow, you’ll have firsthand knowledge of how much work’s involved. No surprises. Then when—if—we sell the dime, you can make an informed decision about whether to go ahead with our deal.”
“Good idea.” She nodded. “But can we stop at the repair shop on the way?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not looking forward to hearing the damages, but I am curious.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Look, I gave you that dime.” He pressed his lips together. “If you need the money to fix your car, it’s yours.”
“I appreciate the offer, but we shook, remember? A deal’s a deal…though I have a confession to make.” She gave a wry chuckle. “Vineyards have always intrigued me, even if my only experience has been an hour or two of picking and stomping grapes.”
He caught her gaze. So, she is interested in the business…“You were part of the harvest crew then—the back end of production.”
She nodded. “And I earned a souvenir t-shirt for my efforts, but after slaving in your fields tomorrow, I may have second thoughts about wineries.”
“Consider it field training, where you’ll learn the front end—vine pruning.” He parked at her hotel, then turning toward her, he stared at her lips, recalling their ice-wine sweetness. Should I kiss her good—
“Time?”
“What?”
“What time will you come by?” Her chin down, she watched him through uptilted eyes.
“Sunrise.” Embarrassed by his fantasizing, he bunched his lips. “I’ll meet you here at seven.”
“ ’Til then.” She cracked the door but, before bolting out, grazed his cheek with a kiss. “See ya.” With an impish grin, she was gone.
What just happened?
Chapter 7
I sprinted to my room, threw the deadbolt, and leaned against the door, laughing until I hugged my sides. The look on his face was priceless. Still giggling, I stepped into the room and grinned at the mirror. Who’d have thought a car accident and getting stranded could be so much fun?
I lifted the velveteen bag from my purse, undid the drawstring, and tipped the cameo into my hand. Then I held the carved brooch to my neckline and checked my reflection. Do I look anything like my great-great-grandmother? Though she must’ve had long hair. Staring, I scrutinized my ear-length, tawny brown hair, freckled nose, and green eyes.
Gradually, my mirrored image seemed to transform beneath the room’s overhead lights. Instead of my usual tan, my complexion paled to buttermilk, and as my hair caught the light, it suggested an upswept, Gibson Girl hairdo instead of a short bob. Only the brooch at my throat remained the same…but it adorned the high collar of a postbellum, wedding dress.
“What the…?” I jumped away from the image. Then swallowing hard, I stepped back to peek.
My reflection back to normal, I chuckled at my imagination. What was in that margarita? Setting the brooch on the dresser, I turned on the shower and undressed while the bathroom steamed.
THUMP…Thump…thump. A shiny, red ball bounced into the room.
How did that rubber ball get in here? Did I leave the door unlocked? Panicking, I grabbed a towel and tested the deadbolt. Though it was secure, I slipped the night latch into place. As an added precaution, I checked the closet, looked under the bed, and flung open the draperies. No one. I checked the windows. Locked.
At a loss as to the ball’s source, I squeezed it between my fingers. Springy and elastic, it was new—not a long-forgotten toy lost behind a dresser. Then I recalled seeing it in the hall the night I registered. Maybe it rolled in when I opened the door?
Good thing I’m not superstitious. I tried to laugh it off, but even after showering, I was anxious. Instead of counting sheep, I replayed the weekend’s list of firsts. Survived the car accident. Met Luke. Kissed Luke. Read the journals. Visited Marianna’s homestead. Met Rosie. Inherited the brooch…
I slipped into an uneasy dream, where a wisp of a girl dropped her red ball and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me.
