Just a Taste Read online

“Was that a laugh?” she asked her horse, leaning forward to stroke the gray silk of her neck. “Or a suggestion that it’s past your breakfast time?”

  Marsanne didn’t answer, although her ears pricked and her stride lengthened as they turned by the lake to head back to the stables.

  “I have been thinking a lot,” Caroline said, after they’d walked in silence for several minutes. Silent but for the hwark of a wood duck they startled from its nest by the water. “And, yes, a lot of it while I should have been sleeping.”

  Jillian smiled her acknowledgment.

  “But not over the legality of my marriage to Spencer. I said my vows before God and I stood by them. In my mind and my heart, it will never be anything but a real marriage since it gave me four of my greatest gifts.”

  Eli, Cole, Mercedes and Jillian.

  They had both reined their horses to a halt, as if tacitly acknowledging the significance of this conversation. Too important to continue while idling along on horseback.

  “I no longer care how it started or why it ended,” Caroline continued, her voice as soft as the morning light. “But I am so very glad that it did end. Otherwise I would not have found Lucas. I would not have all this.”

  And although she waved one hand in a delicately expansive gesture, Jillian knew she referred to more than the rich physical landscape and the boutique winery she had fashioned into one of Napa’s finest.

  “All this” encompassed the solid strength of love she’d found with Lucas and the happiness she’d forged for herself and her family.

  This is what worried her sleep—the threat of further disharmony within her family due to Spencer Ashton. Caroline had lost out badly in the divorce settlement, and finally they’d agreed to seek legal counsel. Since there’d been no marriage, there could be no divorce settlement, right?

  “You don’t want to pursue legal action, do you?” Jillian asked.

  “I’m afraid it will cause more hurt, more bitter words, and for what? What will it achieve? I have everything I want right here.” Caroline waved that same hand around, this time with more vigor. “Already this brouhaha has sent Cole and Dixie running off to elope.”

  Because they hadn’t thought it an appropriate time to arrange and celebrate a wedding, with all that was going on. Of course that bothered Caroline. She’d married Spencer quickie-Vegas-style, and Jillian had followed suit.

  Not exactly happy precedents.

  “Selfish, I know,” she said softly, “but I wanted to be there.”

  Jillian leaned across and took one of her mother’s hands in her own. “No, not selfish. A mother’s right.”

  One they all should have recognized earlier, one they’d lost sight of in all the acrimony. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to make amends….

  “You know what I’m thinking?” she said, a smile brimming as the idea gathered momentum.

  “Please, Jillian, if it is anywhere near as wicked as that glint in your eyes, you can stop thinking it right now.”

  “Wicked? I don’t think so.” She tipped her head to the side, considering. “Unless we make it a surprise party—and that would serve them right, seeing as they surprised us all by running off to tie the knot.”

  The smile started in Caroline’s eyes, then spread all over her face. Her fingers curled around Jillian’s and held on tight.

  “A party to celebrate Cole and Dixie’s marriage? Oh, yes, Jillie, that is a fine idea!”

  They sat a moment, hands still linked, smiling at each other and the possibilities. A family celebration, a reason to laugh and dance and remember what mattered. Oh, yes, it was a very fine idea, even if she did say so herself!

  “If Travis comes through—” Jillian mentally crossed both fingers and toes “—if he can do the renovation right away, we could hold it in the tasting room.”

  “A wedding reception cum launch party,” Caroline murmured. “When?”

  “Would early May be good?”

  “Spring. The season of rebirth.” Jillian felt her mother’s hand move, felt the touch of her thumb against the wedding band she wore. Never had she commented on that symbol’s continued presence, and she didn’t now. She simply looked into her daughter’s eyes, rubbed her thumb along the gold band again, and said, “It’s the perfect time to forget past problems and concentrate on new beginnings, don’t you think?”

  Jillian felt herself tense. Oh, no, this was not about her, not in any sense.

  She started to shake her head, but Caroline blinked and her gaze shifted, as if distracted by something out of Jillian’s view. She pulled her hand away and pointed. “That will be your builder, stopping up by the stables.”

  Now why would he do that? Was he lost, despite her specific directions to meet at the winery?

  Jillian frowned as she gathered up her reins and urged Marsanne around.

  “He’s early. Now that’s a change for the—” The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she caught sight of the truck. Her mouth probably hung open for a second. Her pulse definitely jumped.

  “Is something the matter?” Caroline asked.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Jillian answered slowly. Except for the fact that Travis Carmody drove a weather-beaten red truck, and this one was a distinctive shade of blue.

  Her hands must have clenched with involuntary tension because beneath her Marsanne started to prance, her muscles bunching as if preparing for flight. Jillian settled deep in the saddle and soothed her in a low voice.

  “I think she’s keen for a last gallop home,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you go on ahead?” When Jillian demurred, she shooed her off. “Go on, Jillie. I’ll potter back at my own pace. If your builder finds the barn deserted, he might not hang around.”

  “Sorry, bud, I didn’t understand a word of that. I don’t speak horse.”

  Seth didn’t feel all that comfortable speaking to a horse either, but this particular horse seemed to expect a reply…although calling the short-legged equine a horse might be stretching things. Whatever, the animal had a real gift of gab. Not your usual horsey neigh or squeal—his pony-mad Rachel had mastered both, along with a credible mane toss—but an eloquent combination of sounds and facial expressions.

  A regular modern-day Mr. Ed, only shorter.

  Mini Ed’s ears pricked up, his attention shifting to the open doors at the end of the barn. Seth heard it then, the thud of hooves striking the ground in a deep rolling rhythm, and his body quickened with expectation.

  His companion whinnied and snorted. Seth managed not to, at least out loud.

  He strolled over to the doorway in time to see horse and rider loom into sight. He knew Jillian rode, that before marrying Jason she’d competed in three-day events, but he’d never seen her on horseback. And the five minutes he’d spent cooling his heels in the barn hadn’t nearly prepared him for the impact.

  Sure, he knew those mile-long legs would look spectacular wrapped around pretty much anything, including a huge gray horse. But he’d pictured her straight-backed and ladylike as she approached at a collected pace, not bent over the monster’s neck and thundering up the hill at full speed.

  Not out of control, he decided, although that didn’t stop his whole body tensing for the eight seconds it took her to steady and slow to a walk. Seth let his breath go on a long gust that mixed relief with a strange sense of discovery. This was a Jillian he hadn’t seen before, her face flushed with exhilaration, her eyes shimmering as they locked with his.

  So, the cool and prissy lady got off on speed. Who would have thought?

  “Nice morning for a ride,” he said pleasantly.

  “Nice?” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Nice doesn’t do this sort of morning justice.”

  “Point taken,” Seth murmured as she reined the horse to a stop.

  When she swung her leg over and started to slide down, he moved in to catch her. After all, it was a long way to the ground. And somehow—despite his architect’s eye for perspective and measurement—he manag
ed to misjudge the distance. Probably because he was distracted by the curves of her backside, clad in stretchy riding pants that fit like a second skin, coming right for him.

  His vision actually glazed over for a second. The next, his hands were on her hips and sliding to her waist as that tight little backside connected with his front side. Quick, accidental, over before the heat burned right through his pants.

  Yet the quick hitch of her breath, the instant tension in the lithe body beneath his hands, told him she’d felt something, too.

  Yeah, well, she had cause.

  Reluctantly he let her go, stepping back enough that she didn’t elbow him anywhere delicate when she started doing whatever had to be done with her saddle. It appeared to be quite a bit.

  “Need a hand?” he asked after several seconds of watching her tug and fuss with straps.

  “I can manage. And I’m actually quite competent at getting off my horse unassisted, too.”

  He made a note for future reference.

  “What are you doing here, Seth?” She glanced over her shoulder, her face prettily flushed. From the ride, Seth reminded himself, not from the impact of that sliding dismount. “I was expecting someone else.”

  “So I heard.”

  Her brows pinched together. “You heard that…where?”

  “From Eli.”

  “My brother called you?” she asked on a rising note of disbelief.

  “No, I called you this morning to see if you’d found a contractor. Eli answered. He said you were out riding and then he mentioned that Carmody was coming to quote.”

  He tried, but obviously didn’t succeed, in keeping his tone flat and free of condemnation. Her gaze narrowed a fraction as she turned around to face him. “And you don’t approve?”

  “You said you wanted the best. Carmody doesn’t come close.”

  “The best isn’t available. Travis Carmody is.” The clear green of her eyes deepened. “Unless that’s changed since Monday. Is that why you’re here, Seth?”

  “I’m here to save you from employing a substandard tradesman. Hell, Jillian, I offered to give recommendations. I would have helped you line up someone dependable.”

  “No one else is available. Not Terry Mancini or the Maine brothers or O’Hara. I tried them all. Travis is my last alternative.” She crossed her arms, sighed and met his eyes. “Exactly how bad is he, Seth?”

  “After I got off the phone to Eli, I jumped straight in my truck and drove out here. Before my first cup of coffee. What does that tell you?”

  “That bad, huh?”

  Her smile was game, but deep in her eyes Seth saw the gathering shadows of disenchantment. He almost caved, almost offered…anything, but then she unfolded her arms and broke eye contact. She studied her hands, and he saw her twist that damn wedding band back and forth.

  Rubbing in everything that was wrong about him wanting to offer her anything and everything, this woman who still loved his brother two years after he’d died. Two years after she’d discovered what a lying, cheating bastard he was.

  Then she straightened and leveled her eyes right on his. “It’s a small job, Seth, but it means a lot to me. Would you reconsider taking a look at my plans?”

  “Since I’m here anyway?”

  “Yes. Since you’re here.”

  That direct green gaze didn’t waver, and she stood tall and still and proud as she waited for his answer. She had asked for his help and he didn’t stand a prayer of saying no.

  “No promises.” Cautioning himself as much as her. “But I’ll see what I can work out.”

  “You’ll take a look at my plans? Now?”

  “I’m not agreeing to take on the job or even to quote. But I’ll take a look and help you work out a solution.”

  “I understand.” She huffed out a rueful-sounding breath. “And I’m not about to look that gift horse in the mouth a second time.”

  Seth’s gaze dipped to her mouth, to the relieved smile that itched around its corners, and he couldn’t for the life of him think of a suitably light and witty response. Kissing her was out of the question, he supposed, but that was all he could think about doing, just bending forward and tasting the warmth of that smile in the quiet morning air….

  “Seth Bennedict?”

  Jillian started backward. Seth turned slowly and realized he’d—they’d both—been so engrossed that they hadn’t heard Caroline Sheppard’s approach. She entered the stable yard on a considerably smaller horse and at a much more sedate pace than her daughter.

  And she smiled at Seth with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. “It is you!”

  “How are you doing, Mrs. Sheppard?”

  “I would be doing much better if you called me Caroline.” She started to dismount, waving away Seth’s offer to help. “I have all morning to lever myself out of this saddle, and I’d be much happier doing so without an audience, thank you all the same.”

  Given his recent experience helping with the out-of-saddle procedure, Seth conceded her point. Which prompted him to turn and seek out Jillian.

  In the process of dragging the saddle from her monster horse, she met his eyes with a surprising note of humor. “Don’t even think about helping me again, Seth. I can handle this myself.”

  “We know you can,” Caroline interceded, her gaze flicking from one to the other with carefully contained curiosity. “But if you two have business to attend to, I’ll look after the horses and finish up here.”

  “That would be great, Mom. Seth’s agreed to take a look at my plans after all.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that. Why don’t you join us for breakfast, Seth, once you’re done?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I promised I’d be home to take Rachel to day care. I don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Then we’ll catch up another day.”

  “I’d like that.” He turned to Jillian. “Ready?”

  “Once I get rid of this saddle.”

  She hurried off into the depths of the barn. So, okay, she didn’t want his help toting saddles but he couldn’t just stand here and watch, right? Not when watching took in the quick left-right hitch of her backside.

  Funny, but he’d always thought those beige riding pants a bit starched and prissy. Not anymore. He followed those fast-moving pants inside—in case there was a door to open. Or something.

  Off to his right he heard Mini Ed snicker. Probably at him. Seth Bennedict, unable to say no to the lady, despite his promise to keep a healthy distance and save himself this torture of seeing and wanting and not touching.

  He knew he would lament this morning, from his foolhardy charge out here to save her from the mistake that was Travis Carmody, to his offer to look at her plans and help her find a workable solution. Then he remembered how she’d stood tall and looked into his eyes and all but admitted she needed his help.

  And he couldn’t for the life of him summon up one scrap of regret.

  Three

  T wo days later, Seth swung his truck into the parking lot beside the Louret Winery building and cast his eyes over the assembled vehicles. Besides the staff cars, he counted one minibus, two rental cars and several out-of-state plates. More than enough, he figured, to keep Jillian busy in the tasting room.

  Excellent.

  The rushed Monday morning run-through hadn’t been nearly enough, not done cold, not with him mindful of getting back for Rachel. He needed to see Jillian at work, to see how she worked, before he could be satisfied with her ideas for the remodel. Structurally, the job would be simple enough, but this type of renovation was about more than knocking down a wall or two.

  Inside the tasting room he paused while his vision adjusted from strong afternoon sunlight to the muted interior. Too dark, he decided, despite the number of light fixtures and the one floor-to-ceiling window.

  His narrowed gaze swept the room, taking it all in, assessing, seeking…and taking too long to find Jillian. Standing behind one of two tasting bars situated along the sid
e walls, she poured for a group of women who, curiously, all wore red hats. She didn’t give any sign of noticing his arrival.

  Bad positioning, bad space planning, bad for business.

  Jillian’s design with one bigger bar running smack down the center improved all of the above. Seth, the architect/ builder, needed assurance she’d optimized them. He strolled farther inside, circling around, sensing the instant she saw him.

  He waited at the end of the long bar while she excused herself to the tasting group and came to meet him.

  “Hello, Seth. I wasn’t expecting you.” Her smile was warm and welcoming. If his unexpected arrival flustered her, she didn’t let it show. “You’ve caught me in the middle of a tasting.”

  He tilted his head toward the group at the bar. “Seems like a decent number for midweek.”

  “Shannon has another half dozen or so looking through the winery so, yes, it is busy enough. It has been since opening, actually.”

  She did this cute little wince, a token complaint since her face glowed with busy-is-good contentment. Man, he liked that. The hint of warmth he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in the cool and restrained lady. The absence of those haunted shadows he was too used to seeing.

  And the knowledge that she got off on both galloping her horse and her work.

  Work. He stopped staring into her eyes and straightened off the bar. “I’m just here to check on a few things. Don’t let me interrupt.”

  “You should have called. I’d have said to come later, after I close at four.”

  “I wanted to watch you work.” Seth met her eyes, saw them cloud with…circumspection?…and decided he hadn’t worded that so great. “I need to see how your tasting room operates. I’ll just be wandering around. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Wandering around, doing what?”

  “Some measuring—”

  “You don’t need to check my measurements,” she interrupted with a spark of her trademark pride.

  “Yeah, I do. That’s my job.” To illustrate that that’s why he was here—work, his job, nothing personal beyond a favor to his brother’s widow—he gestured toward the women in the wine-tasting group. “We’d both better get back to it.”