Chapter 7
The lump in Sheila’s throat swelled as she watched Noah’s car approach.
“Who’s that?” Emily asked, squinting into the sunset and straining to get a better view of the silver vehicle as she looked through the window. Noah braked the Volvo to a halt and got out of the car. He looked tired and hot. He was wearing tan corduroy pants and a loosely knit ivory sweater. The sleeves were pushed up over his forearms to display tanned skin and tight muscles. His dark hair was slightly windblown from the drive, and the shadow of his beard was visible against his olive skin. His mouth, set in a firm, hard line, tightened as the other passenger in the car said something that caught his attention. Sheila felt her pulse begin to race at the sight of him. No other man had ever affected her so deeply.
“Mom?” Emily asked, catching Sheila’s attention. “Do you know that guy?”
Sheila managed a frail smile for her daughter. “I’m sorry, Em,” she replied, realizing that she had ignored Emily’s previous question. “Yes, I know him. His name is Noah Wilder, and he’s in charge of the company that owns most of the winery.”
“A big shot, huh?”
Sheila laughed. “I think his title is ‘temporary president,’ or something of the sort. Let’s not call him a big shot. Okay?”
“If you say so.”
“Just keep in mind that he is important. His decision on the winery is critical.” Emily’s puzzled expression was not lost on Sheila. “I’ll explain more about him later. Right now let’s go and meet him at the door.” Sheila grabbed Emily’s hand and hurried to the front entrance, hoping to forestall any more of Emily’s questions about Noah.
When she opened the door, Sheila stood face-to-face with the one man who had touched her to the core, and she felt her poise beginning to slip. Noah wasn’t alone. With him was a boy; his son, Sheila guessed. The resemblance between the man and teenager was strong. Though Sean’s hair was blond, his skin was dark like his father’s, and his eyes were the same piercing blue. Those blue eyes regarded Sheila intently with a deep-seated, undisguised hostility.
“I tried the bell, but I didn’t hear it ring,” Noah explained.
“It hasn’t worked since the fire.”
Noah seemed a little uncomfortable, but when his eyes found Sheila’s, he held her gaze and spoke softly. “Earlier, you invited me to come and see the winery for myself. You asked me to spend a weekend here, and I’ve decided that there’s no time like the present. Does the offer still stand?”
“Now? This weekend?” she asked.
“If it wouldn’t inconvenience youc.”
Sheila was caught in the power of his gaze, the warmth and invitation in his eyes. She had to force herself to smile and keep her voice cool and professional. “Of course you’re welcome. I’m sure if you stay and see the magnitude of the problem, you’ll understand why we have to begin rebuilding the winery as soon as we can.”
“I’m sure,” he agreed, dismissing the subject. “I’d like you to meet my son, Sean.”
Sheila’s smile spread as she turned her attention to the boy at Noah’s side. She had always had a way with kids, especially teenagers. She genuinely liked them, and it showed in the interest in her eyes. “Hi, Sean. How are you?”
“Fine,” was the clipped, succinct reply. His expression of hostility didn’t diminish.
Sheila didn’t press the issue. “This is Emily.” She touched Emily’s shoulders fondly.
Noah bent his knees so he could talk to Emily at her level. “It’s nice to meet you, Emily.” He extended his hand, and when Emily took hold of it, he gave the girl a warm handshake. “I bet you’re a big help to your mom, aren’t you?”
“I guess so,” Emily mumbled before retrieving her hand and stepping backward to put some distance between herself and the forceful man.
“We were just about to have dinner,” Sheila stated as Noah rose back to his full height. “Could you join us?”
Sean rolled his eyes and looked away. Noah spoke for the two of them. “If it’s not too much trouble. I should have called before I left the office, but I was running late, so I just headed out of town.” The lie slipped so easily off his tongue that Noah had no trouble smiling disarmingly down at her. His conscience twinged, but he ignored it.
“It’s fine,” Sheila was saying emphatically. “I always cook as if I’m expecting the army.” She moved out of the doorway. “Come in. I still have a few things to do to get dinner on the table. Or, if you would prefer, you can look around the grounds. I’ll give you a guided tour later.”
“I’ll wait. I think I’d prefer a personal tour.”
Sheila felt the heat climbing up her throat. Somehow she managed to keep her voice level. “What about you, Sean? Dinner won’t be ready for half an hour. You’re welcome to come into the house; I’ve got several books and magazines you might be interested in, or you can do whatever you want out here.”
“I don’t like to read,” Sean replied curtly, but after receiving a dark and admonishing glance from his father, he amended his brusque response with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll stay outside.”
Emily followed Sheila and Noah inside. Sheila busied herself with the finishing touches for the meal, and Noah lounged against the counter, watching her as she worked. Emily hovered near Sheila, uncertain about the upcoming evening.
“You out of school for the year?” Noah asked the girl.
“Uh-huh.”
Sheila could feel Emily’s embarrassment. Ever since Sheila’s divorce from Jeff, Emily was shy with men to the point of wariness, especially any man who showed attention to her mother. To ease Emily’s discomfort, Sheila changed the subject. “Dinner’s going to take a little longer than I thought, Emily. Why don’t you take a couple of cookies and—” she paused to inspect the contents of the refrigerator “—some of this pop outside for you and Sean.”
Emily’s wide green eyes lit up. “Really? Before dinner?”
“Why not?” Sheila asked with a smile and handed the cans of ginger ale to her daughter. “Tonight’s special.”
Emily balanced the cans against her chest while she reached into the cookie jar and withdrew a handful of macaroons. “Great,” she whispered, hardly believing her luck at receiving goodies before a meal.
When the back door slammed shut and Emily could be heard in the distance, Noah moved from his position against the counter to stand behind Sheila. She could sense his presence behind her, but she tried to maintain her interest in the sauce she was preparing. It was impossible. His hands wrapped around her waist and drew her close to him. She closed her eyes as she felt his breath rustle the hair at the nape of her neck.
“Is it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Is tonight special?” His words caressed the air.
She attempted to misread him. “Of course it is. It’s not often Emily and I have guests for dinner.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Sheila sighed and turned the burner to the lowest setting. She rotated in Noah’s arms and tried to step backward. He didn’t let go. “I knew what you meant.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do, Noah. I’m not exactly a naive innocent. I think you were the one that pointed it out to me. I assume you came here to talk about the wineryc”
“And?” His half smile showed just a seductive hint of white, straight teeth, and a gleam of fascination flickered in his blue eyes.
“And you probably expect to take up where we left off.” Sheila’s heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
“The thought did cross my mind.”
“You’re wicked,” she accused teasingly.
“No, I wouldn’t say thatccaptivated would be a better word.”
“Oh, Noah,” Sheila murmured. His words had a magical effect upon her, and she felt unable to resist the spell of tenderness he was weaving. Though she attempted to deny it, she still found something enigmatic and intimately alluring in Noah. A crazy feeling of exhilaration climbed steadily up her spine as she realized that he wanted to be with her. Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps despite everything holding them apart, there was a chance that they could find happiness with each other.
“You look great,” he said. His eyes caressed her face and dropped to the tempting white column of her throat.
“In jeans and an old blouse?”
“In anythingc.” The pressure of his hands against her back drew her close to him; so close that she could feel the strength of his legs where they touched hers and the pressure of his chest against her breasts. “As I recall, you look incredible in absolutely nothing as well.” His head lowered and his lips captured hers in a warm kiss that evoked passionate memories. In one instant she remembered his embrace in the rain and his touch in the silent afterglow.
Without thinking she entwined her arms around Noah’s neck and parted her lips under the soft pressure of his mouth. His tongue rimmed her lips, and all of the doubts of the last weeks fled with the promise of his kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he groaned when he lifted his head and pulled her roughly against him. “God, how I’ve missed you.”
At the sound of his confession, Sheila felt tears begin to pool in her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too,” she murmured into his sweater. Her voice caught, and she felt him stiffen. Slowly he released her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“It’s been a long dayc” she hedged. How could she begin to explain the storm of emotions within her each time he held her closely?
“Is it a bad time for you? I should have called before I came racing over here.”
“Noceverything’s fine. Really.”
“Is dinner ready yet?” Emily called just as she was entering the room.
Sheila managed to brush her tears aside. “Just about. You can help by setting the table.”
“In the dining room?” Emily asked as she reached in the drawer for silverware.
“No. We’ll have to eat in here.” Sheila withdrew a linen tablecloth and put it on the small kitchen table. Looking skeptically at the makeshift dining arrangements, her mouth pulled into a pouty frown. “It’s not exactly elegant, but it will have to do. The dining room is still a mess.”
“From the fire?” Noah asked.
“And the water that was used to put out the flames. I’ll show you everything after we eat. Maybe then you’ll appreciate my position about the winery.”
The door opened and shut with a resonating thud. Sean strode into the room wearing cut-off jeans, a sloppy red sweatshirt and a look of bored indifference. His face was shaped similarly to his father’s, except that the sharp planes of Noah’s face were softer on his son. There was still a hint of boyish naiveté in Sean that he obviously tried to hide under a guise of insolence.
“Time to eat?” Sean asked, directing his question to his father.
“I think you can sit down.”
“Good.” Sean slid into the nearest chair and avoided looking at Sheila. His fingers tapped restlessly on the edge of the table. Emily took a seat next to Sean and began to chatter endlessly about a hike she hoped to take with him. Sean responded with adolescent nonchalance about the prospect of spending more time with the eager eight-year-old, but Sheila’s practiced eye saw the interest he was trying to hide. Three years of counseling teenagers had helped her understand both the kids and their motives.
The dinner was eaten under a thin veil of civility. Sheila had hoped that as the meal progressed the strain of the impromptu get-together would fade and a comfortable feeling of familiarity would evolve. She had been wrong. Before the dinner was over, even Emily could feel the tension building between Sean and Sheila.
Sheila attempted to bridge the gap. “Are you out of school for the summer?” she asked Sean.
Silence. Sean continued to wolf down his food.
She tried another ploy. “Would you like anything else to eat? How about a roll?”
Nothing. Noah’s anger had been simmering throughout the meal, but he had decided not to discipline his son in front of Sheila and Emily. Sean’s rude behavior forced the issue.
“Sheila asked you a question, Sean,” he stated sternly.
“YeahcI heard.”
“Then could you be polite enough to answer.”
Sean bristled. “Sure.” His cool blue eyes sought Sheila’s. “NawcI don’t want another roll.” He turned his gaze back to his father. “Satisfied?”
Emily’s eyes widened as father and son squared off.
“No, I’m not. I don’t expect much from you, son, but I do think you can be civil.”
“Why?” Sean demanded.
“Out of respect.”
“For what? Her?” He cast his disdainful gaze at Sheila.
“Cut it out!” Noah stated tersely.
Sean ignored him. “Look, Dad, I don’t need this.”
“What you need is to learn about acting with just a modicum of decency and common courtesy.” A muscle in Noah’s jaw began to tense.
“Back off, Dad. What I don’t need is some lady trying to be my mother!”
“Don’t worry about that, Sean,” Sheila interjected. “I have no intention of trying to become your mother.” With that, she turned her attention back to her dinner and finished eating. Sean cast a skeptical glance in her direction, and Noah’s dark eyebrows cocked. However, he didn’t interfere. When finished with her meal, Sheila again looked at Sean. “No, I’m sure you’ve done very well without a mother for the past sixteen years, and I, for one, have no intention of changing that.” She rained her most disarming smile upon the confused boy. “Now, is there anything else I can get you?”
“No!”
“Good.” Sheila placed her napkin on the table. “Then, if we’re all finished, you can clear the table while Emily gets the dessert.”
Sean’s face fell and his blue eyes sought those of his father, entreating Noah to help him. “Good idea,” Noah agreed amicably, but the glint of determination in his eyes demanded that his son obey.
Sheila wasn’t finished. She began stacking the plates and handing them to Sean. “Just put the dishes on the counter near the sink, and don’t worry about washing them, I’ll take care of that later. Let’s see, the leftovers go in the refrigerator. Use the plastic wrap to cover them. Can you handle that?”
Sean’s hot retort was thwarted by his father’s stern glare. Rather than press the issue, Sean scowled and nodded curtly.
“All right, now, Emily; it’s your turn.” Emily fastened her frightened eyes on her mother. Never had she witnessed such hostility at a meal. Nor had she ever seen her mother so tough with a guest.
Sheila smiled at her daughter, and Emily’s anxieties melted a bit. “You can bring the cookies out to the back patio. I’ll bring the coffee and Noah will get the milk.” If Noah was surprised that he, too, was issued an order, he didn’t show it.
Sean’s chair scraped insolently against the tiled floor as he rose from the table. His handsome face was clouded in an expression of disdain, but he managed to clear the dishes. Emily was uncommonly silent as she arranged the macaroons on a small plate. The tension that had been building throughout dinner continued to mount. Noah poured two glasses of milk and escaped out the back door. Emily soon followed. Sheila waited for the coffee to perk, while Sean put things away, making as much noise as he possibly could.
Just as Sheila was pouring the hot, black liquid, Sean exploded. “Maybe you can fool my dad, but you can’t fool me!”
Sheila was startled and sloshed some of the coffee on her wrist. The scalding brew burned her skin, but she remained calm. As Sean watched her reaction, she set the cup down and put her hand under cold water from the tap. Her voice was even when she addressed him. “I have no intention of trying to fool you, Sean.”
“Sure,” he sneered.
Sheila turned to face the tall boy, and she leveled her cool gray eyes on his face. “Look, Sean, I’m not trying to deceive anyone, and I expect the same in return. I don’t really care if you like me or not. You have the right to your own opinions, just as I have the right to minec.”
“Don’t give me any of your psychiatric lines! I know you’re a school counselor, and I’ll just bet Dad dragged me up here so you could do a number on me; you know, analyze me—try and straighten me out.” He threw up one of his hands in disgust. “I just want you to know that it won’t work on me. Save your breath!”
Sheila managed a smile. “Do you really think that I would bother wasting my time or expertise on someone who didn’t want it?”
“It’s your job.”
“No. I’m sorry, Sean, but you’re wrong. I’m not going to beat my head against the wall for someone who doesn’t want my help, and that includes you. As for what your father expects from me, it has nothing to do with you. We’re business partners.”
“Sure.”
“I think I will take your advice,” Sheila agreed. Sean tensed. The last thing he had expected was for this woman to concur with him. “I’m going to save my breath. I would like to try and convince you to relax and enjoy the weekend—”
“Fat chance,” Sean interrupted under his breath.
“Pardon me?”
“This isn’t my scene,” he spat out, and turned to glare out the window.
“That’s too bad, because it looks like you’re stuck here for the duration of the weekend.” Sean rolled his eyes heavenward, and Sheila poured the coffee into the second cup. When she picked up the tray, she cast a final glance in Sean’s direction. “Why don’t you come out to the patio and join the rest of us? Emily already took out the cookies.”
Sean whirled angrily to face Sheila. “I’m here, okay? That’s the end of it. I’m not going to sit with the rest of you and eat milk and cookies. That might be all right for Emily, but not for me. I’m not wasting my time babysitting your kid!” he shouted.
The screen door slammed shut and Emily came into the room. From the expression on her face it was evident she had heard Sean’s final words. Tears sprung to her soft green eyes as she stared at Sean.
“Damn!” Sean muttered, and slammed his fist onto the counter. His face burned in his embarrassment as he strode angrily from the room.
“Why doesn’t he like me?” Emily asked Sheila. The little girl tried vainly to swallow her tears. Sheila set the tray down.
“It’s not that he doesn’t like you, Em,” Sheila replied, hugging her child. “He’s just not sure of himself here. He doesn’t know you or me, and he’s not really sure how to act.”
“He’s mean!” Emily sniffed.
“He’s not trying to be. Maybe he’s jealous of you,” Sheila whispered into her daughter’s thick, dark curls.
“Why?”
“Sean doesn’t have a mother.”
Emily was puzzled. She pulled out of her mother’s embrace and with a childish imitation of adult concern, looked deeply into Sheila’s eyes. “I thought everybody had a mommy.”
“You’re right, sweetheart. Everybody does have a mother, including Sean. But, I think he’s unhappy because he doesn’t see her very much.”
“Why not?” Emily was clearly perplexed, and Sheila wondered if she had broached a topic she couldn’t fully explain. After all, what did she know of Sean’s mother? If she had interpreted Noah’s story correctly, Sean may never have met his mother. No wonder the kid had a chip the size of a boulder on his young shoulders. Sheila felt her heart go out for the stubborn boy with the facade of bravado. Emily was still staring at Sheila, and she knew she had to find a suitable answer for her daughter. “Sean’s parents don’t live together,” she whispered.
Emily’s sober expression changed to one of understanding. “Oh, they’re divorced. Like you and Daddy.”
Sheila’s expression clouded. “Sort of,” she replied vaguely. Emily seemed satisfied for the moment, and Sheila changed the subject quickly. “Let’s go out on the patio and see Noah before this coffee gets cold.”
“He’s not there.”
“He’s not?”
Emily shook her head. “He’s just walkin’ around.”
“Then we’ll wait for him.” Again Sheila picked up the tray, and with Emily in tow, walked out to the brick patio that was flanked by Oliver’s rose garden.
Noah had been familiarizing himself with the layout of the winery. His walk also gave him the excuse to vent some of the frustration and tension that had been boiling within him since he had left Seattle. The trip over the mountains had been strained; Sean had brooded because his weekend plans were canceled by his father’s hastily organized trip. Sean had pleaded to be left alone in Seattle, and when Noah had refused, Sean had ridden the entire distance with his head turned away from his father while he pretended interest in the passing countryside. He had responded to Noah’s questions with monosyllabic grunts. By the time they reached the winery, Noah’s tension was wound tighter than the mainspring on a watch.
Noah had hoped that Sean would loosen up by the time they had come within sight of the winery, but he had been wrong—dead wrong. Sean was more petulant than ever. It was as if he were intent on punishing his father with his abrasive behavior.
Noah’s frown twisted into a wry grin as he thought about Sheila’s reaction to his strong-willed son. The embarrassment Noah had experienced at the table had faded into admiration for Sheila as he had witnessed the effective manner in which she had handled Sean. Even Sean had been set on his heels by Sheila’s indifferent and coolly professional attitude. She had refused to be goaded by anything Sean had done. Noah had to hand it to her: she knew how to handle kids. Her own daughter was proof of that. It occurred to him that perhaps he would never be able to control his son. It was all too evident that Sean needed a mother as well as a father. Noah had been a fool to think that he could raise a son of his own. Ben’s warning, issued sixteen years before, rang in his ears. “You want to raise that bastard on your own? You’re an even bigger fool than I thought!”
The screen door slammed, breaking into Noah’s thoughts. He lifted his eyes to observe Sean racing angrily from the house. There had obviously been another battle and it seemed as if Sean had lost one more round to Sheila. Noah shook his head as he watched his athletic son run across the backyard, hoist himself effortlessly over a pole fence without once breaking stride, and continue at a breakneck pace into the fringe of woods beyond the orchard.
Noah’s thoughts returned to Sheila. There was more grit to her than met the eye. Stunningly beautiful, she was also independent and intelligent. Noah raked his fingers impatiently through his hair as he wondered if he had made a grave mistake in seeking her out. She was more intriguing than he had remembered, and seeing her in the setting of the burned winery seemed to add an innocent vulnerability to her large eyes. Noah felt as if he wanted to protect her, when in fact he had come to Cascade Valley expecting to confront her with the knowledge that her father did, in fact, start the fire at the winery. As yet, Noah hadn’t found the right opportunity to broach the subject. The more he was with Sheila, the less he wanted to talk about the fire.
Anthony Simmons’s report had been short and concise. Though the detective had produced no concrete evidence to name Oliver Lindstrom as the arsonist, the case Simmons had built against Sheila’s father had been complete. Noah knew that the insurance company was bound to reach the same conclusion as he had: Based on circumstantial evidence, it was proven that Oliver Lindstrom set fire to Cascade Valley hoping to collect the insurance settlement and pay off a sizable debt to Wilder Investments. Inadvertently Mr. Lindstrom got caught in his own trap, was overcome by fumes of noxious gas and died in the blaze.
Noah’s stomach knotted as he wondered how involved Sheila had been in her father’s scheme. Had she known about it beforehand? Was she involved? Or was she, as she claimed, looking for a solution to the dilemma? According to Simmons, Sheila had been polite, but hadn’t gone out of her way to help with the investigation. It had been like pulling teeth to get her to divulge anything personal about her fathercor herself. Was she hiding something? Simmons seemed to think so. Noah didn’t. Still, it didn’t matter, the bottom line was that he had to tell her about her father and then gauge her reaction to the news. It wasn’t going to be easy. Either way she lost. If she already knew that her father was a fraud, she would come out of this mess at the very least a liar; at the most an accomplice. If she didn’t know that her father had started the fire, her dreams and respect for the dead man would be shattered. No doubt she would blame Noah for digging up the dirt on Oliver Lindstrom.
As Noah walked back to the patio he tried to find a way to help her rather than hurt her.