perform CPR on this town and Tracy has a role in our organization, I’d be happy. She doesn’t have to run everything. Maybe just the gift shop. Or the tasting room.”
Slade cleared his throat.
But the flood of Will’s frustration wasn’t finished. “It’s the doubts that drive me insane. Will Tracy be like this forever? Speaking in broken English and with pain so deep in her eyes that I can’t find the bottom? I know Tracy doesn’t want any handouts from me. But if you don’t approve of hiring her, I’ll pay her salary out of my own pocket.
“Last night Slade said Tracy was a distraction. But he’s wrong. Carving out a place in the world for her is my life’s work right now. And these businesses we’re proposing can give her that place.” If only he could make Tracy see. “If I can’t fix Tracy so she can return to her old life, I need to help her create a new one. Everything else, including our next multimillion dollar sale, is a distraction.”
Will hadn’t realized an empty street could be so silent.
Slade stared at Will with fathomless black eyes that neither condemned nor supported.
“Slade,” Will began, “what I said last night... I was a jerk.”
“You get a pass,” Slade said gruffly.
“I need you standing by me. You and Flynn.” Together, the three friends could do anything—if they all concurred.
“We’re doing this, then?” Flynn asked Slade.
Their financial partner nodded curtly. “Since I’m in charge of our investments, I’ll agree to pursue rezoning if you both agree that at each step in development we review our options. If this winery ever becomes a losing proposition, we cut our losses.”
Flynn and Will agreed.
Will was determined he’d never let the winery come to that. His tension slipped away, loosening his limbs. He scanned the town square, tensing when he noticed it was empty. “Where’s Tracy?”
Flynn pointed. “She headed back along the river toward your house.”
The river path would take Tracy past Rose’s home. Where Emma, Tracy’s Pied Piper, was staying.
Will stepped off the curb, but Flynn held him back. “You have to let Tracy deal with Emma in her own way.”
Will pulled his arm free. “She’s not strong enough yet.”
* * *
“E MMA !” G RANNY R OSE returned from her visit to the elementary school in the next town around eleven-thirty, her booted feet echoing throughout the old house. “Come here.”
Emma saved the print ad she’d been revising for one of her clients on her laptop before going downstairs.
She found Granny Rose on the porch, reaching through an open window to start the record player. “Schoolchildren make me want to dance for joy.”
After her bike ride, Emma’s legs felt as if they were in plaster casts, stiff and cumbersome. Dancing would be impossible.
The Andrews Sisters began singing about a bugle boy. What little booty Granny Rose had started shaking. Her arms stretched out midair, fingers snapping. And then she held out her hand to Emma. “Let’s dance, sister. I’ll lead.”
With a slump to her shoulders, Emma shuffled forward. “Do I have to?”
“It’s either that or color!” Pointing to a coloring book on the table, Granny Rose laughed, the sound rippling above the music, cresting over Emma’s sour mood and washing away most of her reluctance.
At first, Emma stumbled through the steps of the swing like a zombie with two left feet. But then, miraculously, her muscles warmed and loosened and her spirits lifted. She and Granny cut a rug back and forth across the porch as if competing in their own dance competition.
* * *
T RACY HAD SLIPPED the noose of Will’s leash and was heading back to the house like a schoolgirl playing hooky.
Her body and spirit needed a lift. Life here didn’t feel much different than in the rehabilitation hospital. Banned from driving, she still couldn’t go where she wanted when she wanted. Harmony Valley was another cage and Will her jailer. It was hard
Slade cleared his throat.
But the flood of Will’s frustration wasn’t finished. “It’s the doubts that drive me insane. Will Tracy be like this forever? Speaking in broken English and with pain so deep in her eyes that I can’t find the bottom? I know Tracy doesn’t want any handouts from me. But if you don’t approve of hiring her, I’ll pay her salary out of my own pocket.
“Last night Slade said Tracy was a distraction. But he’s wrong. Carving out a place in the world for her is my life’s work right now. And these businesses we’re proposing can give her that place.” If only he could make Tracy see. “If I can’t fix Tracy so she can return to her old life, I need to help her create a new one. Everything else, including our next multimillion dollar sale, is a distraction.”
Will hadn’t realized an empty street could be so silent.
Slade stared at Will with fathomless black eyes that neither condemned nor supported.
“Slade,” Will began, “what I said last night... I was a jerk.”
“You get a pass,” Slade said gruffly.
“I need you standing by me. You and Flynn.” Together, the three friends could do anything—if they all concurred.
“We’re doing this, then?” Flynn asked Slade.
Their financial partner nodded curtly. “Since I’m in charge of our investments, I’ll agree to pursue rezoning if you both agree that at each step in development we review our options. If this winery ever becomes a losing proposition, we cut our losses.”
Flynn and Will agreed.
Will was determined he’d never let the winery come to that. His tension slipped away, loosening his limbs. He scanned the town square, tensing when he noticed it was empty. “Where’s Tracy?”
Flynn pointed. “She headed back along the river toward your house.”
The river path would take Tracy past Rose’s home. Where Emma, Tracy’s Pied Piper, was staying.
Will stepped off the curb, but Flynn held him back. “You have to let Tracy deal with Emma in her own way.”
Will pulled his arm free. “She’s not strong enough yet.”
* * *
“E MMA !” G RANNY R OSE returned from her visit to the elementary school in the next town around eleven-thirty, her booted feet echoing throughout the old house. “Come here.”
Emma saved the print ad she’d been revising for one of her clients on her laptop before going downstairs.
She found Granny Rose on the porch, reaching through an open window to start the record player. “Schoolchildren make me want to dance for joy.”
After her bike ride, Emma’s legs felt as if they were in plaster casts, stiff and cumbersome. Dancing would be impossible.
The Andrews Sisters began singing about a bugle boy. What little booty Granny Rose had started shaking. Her arms stretched out midair, fingers snapping. And then she held out her hand to Emma. “Let’s dance, sister. I’ll lead.”
With a slump to her shoulders, Emma shuffled forward. “Do I have to?”
“It’s either that or color!” Pointing to a coloring book on the table, Granny Rose laughed, the sound rippling above the music, cresting over Emma’s sour mood and washing away most of her reluctance.
At first, Emma stumbled through the steps of the swing like a zombie with two left feet. But then, miraculously, her muscles warmed and loosened and her spirits lifted. She and Granny cut a rug back and forth across the porch as if competing in their own dance competition.
* * *
T RACY HAD SLIPPED the noose of Will’s leash and was heading back to the house like a schoolgirl playing hooky.
Her body and spirit needed a lift. Life here didn’t feel much different than in the rehabilitation hospital. Banned from driving, she still couldn’t go where she wanted when she wanted. Harmony Valley was another cage and Will her jailer. It was hard
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