Harvest Moon. Sharon Struth

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      “Oh. Well, aren’t you seeing…Ruby?”

      “I dated her last summer. I’m seeing Angie now.”

      “Oh.”

      Duncan looked confused, so Trent changed the subject. “Listen, before I left on this last site visit, did you see I moved myself into the cottage at the farm?”

      “I did.”

      “The place is a far cry from the shack you showed me last spring. I’d never have known it was the same place. Thanks for fixing it up.”

      “Sophie handled renovations. She did a great job.” Duncan’s face softened when he said his fiancée’s name. “Will you stay up there tonight?”

      “Maybe. I have a date later today in Hartford. So I’m not making any promises.”

      “With Ru… I mean, Angie? So how long have you been dating her?”

      Trent turned in the chair, pressed the cell phone “on” switch, and the phone came to life. “Guess it’s been about a month now.”

      “I can’t keep up. You need to settle down.”

      Trent only laughed. Settling down again didn’t seem in his cards these days, only he couldn’t quite get a pulse on what left him so unsatisfied with the women he dated.

      “Oh, don’t forget, at four the staff is having a going away party for us.”

      “I didn’t.” Trent searched for his contact list for Angie’s number.

      “One other thing.”

      He looked up, met Duncan’s stare, more serious than a moment ago.

      “I’m really glad you’re joining me on the vineyard. Having some family with me as I get this new business off the ground means a lot.”

      Trent’s heart filled with a love he found hard to express. He and Duncan hadn’t been close while growing up. A long and winding trail of bad choices made by Trent had left everyone else in his family with the notion he was a screw up. But not Duncan.

      “Thanks. I’ll do everything in my power to help make the vineyard a success.”

      Duncan studied his feet for a few seconds before looking back up. “Sometimes you’ve got to shake up your life a bit to find the gold. I know this will be different for you, but Northbridge is a special place.”

      Trent nodded, even though he worried about how he’d be received in the close-knit community. “Part of the reason I said yes.”

      “Bring Angie to Sophie’s party on Saturday night, so I can meet her.”

      “I’ll see.”

      Trent returned to his search for Angie’s number but couldn’t ignore the nervous tug at his gut, rocking the confidence it took to make a move to the small Connecticut town. Confidence easily shaken by the stupid things he’d done there many years ago, acts capable of threatening his chance for a fresh start.

      Chapter 2

      Veronica scooped up the remaining shards of shredded magazine and stuffed them into the garbage pail under the sink. Her mother always said, “Keep a clean house. You don’t want folks whispering about your sloppy habits at your funeral,” as if such a trivial matter would be anybody’s biggest concern while they paid their last respects.

      Boomer’s ears perked as the lid on the metal can shut.

      “Listen, big boy, this paper obsession has to stop. You might get sick. And don’t ever do this at Grandma’s house. I promise, it’ll be your last visit there.”

      His tail wagged and he panted, a sure sign of agreement.

      She stroked the dog’s furry neck, thinking about her mother’s obsession with the family’s outward appearances. The day her mother learned Veronica’s father had left her for his secretary, she and her siblings were told not to discuss the matter with outsiders. Ever. Veronica believed her mother’s attitude unnecessary, yet to this day still abided by Mom’s mantra to keep things private.

      Disgust for her own silence over what happened with Gary Tishman back in college took hold, along with the sad realization she’d turned into her mother. Northbridge gossip had the momentum of a ball rolling down a steep hill, though, and she still didn’t want anybody knowing what happened to her back then.

      Veronica changed out of her work clothes and slipped on shorts with a striped tank top. Ten minutes later, she was back inside the car and cruising along Lake Shore Drive, Wednesday night dinner at her sister’s place something she rarely missed. Boomer’s head hogged the space between the VW Passat’s bucket seats, making the rearview mirror useless for navigation. He eyed the two KitKat bars on the front passenger seat.

      “Those aren’t for you, Boom-boom.”

      He sniffed near her ear and licked her cheek, making her laugh and forget about any small flaws he possessed.

      She followed the road and enjoyed a gentle lake breeze drifting through the open window, lifting the soft curls stuck to the back of her neck. For the first time today, she relaxed. Playing phone tag with Gail, who hadn’t come to the luncheon, had made her jump each time she received an incoming call at the library. Maybe she really didn’t want to know why Gary ended up marrying their old college friend. Didn’t Carin see the dark side he possessed?

      She forced Gary from her head and, instead, concentrated on how happy she’d been to finally get an e-mail from Ry this morning. For the past six months, they’d talked nearly every day. Hard as she tried, she couldn’t find a single thing wrong with the guy. Well, there might be one little thing; she wouldn’t recognize him if she walked right into him.

      Theirs was a modern day pen pal relationship, all via the Internet. Ry’s e-mails dominated her thoughts like a teenage crush. Not quite online dating—or really even a relationship—the simpatico flow of their conversations always lifted her spirits and allowed her to converse with an openness and ease she hadn’t had with a man in far too long.

      The winding road narrowed at a bend. She slowed the car and turned up a hill near a nineteenth century schoolhouse, a town landmark. A few minutes later, she pulled into the subdivision where her sister lived and parked on the street in front of Emily’s raised ranch.

      The new siding job, started five weeks ago, was finally complete and left a clean white exterior, a vast improvement over peeling gray shingles. Boomer bolted from the car and beelined for the open garage. She followed and pushed open the inside door, ambushed by a delicious garlicky scent. The dog went into the family room, where the television set blasted louder than necessary.

      “Guess who?” Veronica yelled over the noise, while Boomer jumped on the sofa between her nieces, who sprawled all over the brown sectional sofa, their legs overlapping in the center.

      “Boom-boom!” the girls cried.

      “Gee, thanks. What about me?”

      Cassidy СКАЧАТЬ