Second To None. Muriel Jensen

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TWO

      VERONICA BIT INTO a buttery cream cheese pastry and moaned her approval.

      Colette put down her coffee cup and indicated the few crumbs on her paper plate. “I know. Isn’t it wonderful? I’ve probably gained ten pounds since Shea started testing recipes for the tasting room and the restaurant.”

      Veronica chewed and swallowed, thinking that no one could look better at 7:00 a.m. than Colette did—and there was no evidence of an extra ten pounds on her. She had bright, curly red hair that framed a finefeatured face and lively gray eyes. Her warmth had appealed to Veronica the moment they’d first met, and had gone a long way toward diminishing her loneliness. During their several lunches in Portland, a friendship had been born.

      “You must burn it all off working on the vineyard. Is Shea going to cook for the B-and-B, too?”

      “No, Rachel’s going to do that. Shea’s swamped with last-minute preparations. The restaurant opens when Tate and I—and the girls—get back from our honeymoon.”

      “There’s so much happening here.”

      Colette smiled thoughtfully. “When Tate and his brothers first inherited the winery, I knew everything was going to be different. The Delancey brothers have so much energy and enthusiasm, and I expected to hate seeing things changed and tourists swarming the place.” Veronica could sense the moment when Colette’s thoughts began to focus on Tate, because she heaved a deep sigh that was all contentment and anticipation. “But now I feel as though my life’s been recharged. As though...” She paused, presumably to grope for words, then apparently decided the thought was too big for them. She smiled at Veronica. “Anyway, it’s wonderful here. I know you’ll be happy. And don’t worry about Mike. He’s really a wonderful man.”

      Veronica wasn’t so sure about that. “I understand why he was suspicious of me,” she said, reaching for her coffee. “But I hope he’s not going to act that way around the kids.”

      “He’s good with children,” Colette assured her. “My girls love him. I think his reluctance to have a day care center here has something to do with his days as a cop.”

      Veronica waited, interested.

      Colette looked grim. “He was a hostage negotiator. I don’t know all the details, but this druggie killed his wife and children while Mike was trying to talk him out of it. Mike knows it wasn’t his fault, but he still blames himself.”

      Veronica could only imagine the horror of that experience. Watching children suffer when you couldn’t do anything to help them must be unbearable. “How awful,” she said.

      “Yeah.” Colette pushed away from the table. “He’s trying hard to move forward, but it’s got to be difficult Come on. Let’s go look at the barn again.”

      

      THE BARN WAS HUGE but somehow friendly. Veronica loved knowing that it had been built more than a hundred years ago, that animals had been cared for here, that someone had sat here on frosty mornings and milked a cow, or groomed a horse. Her own life had been a very urban experience, but a part of her had always longed for life in the country.

      She smiled. Almost every little girl wanted to own a horse or play in a barn, but she guessed few had embraced those dreams for the same reasons she had. At least, she hoped not.

      “I told Tate about the partitioning you’d like in here, and he’s sketching out a plan.” Colette walked across the concrete floor, looking up at the loft. “If you approve it, the work can probably be done by the wedding.”

      “You did explain that I’m coming to this with extremely little capital?” Veronica tore her mind from the dreams she had for the space and back to reality. “I can’t afford architects from Boston.”

      Colette dismissed that with a curve of her lips. “He wanted to use the barn for something, and I think he’s happy to have another project.” She walked to the right side of the building and stretched her arms out to indicate the area. “I told him you wanted to be able to bring the playground equipment inside during the winter.”

      Veronica followed her. “Right.” Then she pointed to the other side. “And a big room for general play, then two smaller rooms for naps.”

      “Right.”

      Colette gestured toward the loft. “I wondered if you might want to turn that into an apartment for yourself? Then if parents run late or want to come in early, you won’t have to worry about the commute. I know you just got your apartment, and it’s not far—but fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes. What do you think?”

      No travel and being able to look at the view of the vineyard anytime she wanted? Veronica was touched by Colette’s thoughtfulness. “I’d love it, of course,” she said, “but you don’t think everyone else will think I’m...intruding?”

      Colette laughed lightly. “We’re all ‘intruders.’ Rachel lives here because her husband was a friend of Jack’s. He invited her to stay after her husband died and left her broke. I came when my husband passed away so my father could help me with the girls, and I could work with the grapes. And Tate and his brothers are here because Jack disappeared and they finally inherited the place.” She paused. “The crew can do your apartment first so you can be here to watch over the rest of it.”

      “I’d love that,” Veronica admitted unashamedly.

      “Great. And we’ll carpet for you, too. Something tweedy that won’t show every little spot but will be easy to clean and still protect the little darlings when they fall.”

      Veronica eyed the floor. “That’ll cost a bundle.”

      “Tate has connections. You still want to do the painting yourself?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “Okay.”

      The arrangement was far better than okay. She gave Colette a big hug. “I don’t know how I blundered into such good deal, but I’m so grateful. I had a feeling the day I met you that you were going to become an important part of my life.”

      Colette held her in the hug a moment longer. “So was I. I didn’t know then that you’d left the convent so recently, but I thought I recognized a kindred spirit. I’ve had to start over against difficult odds, but I had my girls and my father. You’re all alone.”

      Veronica drew back and smiled. “I don’t feel all alone anymore. Thanks for caring so much.”

      Colette looped an arm through hers and started toward the door. “Actually, I have a ulterior motive. I need a favor from you.”

      “Anything.”

      “Will you stand up for me at my wedding?”

      Veronica stopped several yards from the door. Sun beamed in on them from grimy windows. “Are you teasing?”

      “Of course not.” Colette shrugged as she prepared to explain. “I moved here two and half years ago, but for most of that time, I’ve worked long hours. I’ve made acquaintances in town, but no real friends. I feel as though I know you as well as anyone. Will you? We’re getting married on July third.”

      Veronica

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