Sweeter Than Wine by Michaela August Page A

Roder--This
gentleman is my husband," Alice managed to choke out. "He's Montclair's new
vintner."
    There was a long pause punctuated by shuffling while George digested this
information.
    "And you will apologize to my wife for knocking her down," Siegfried
demanded.
    "Aw, hell," George mumbled, lowering his gaze. "Beggin' your pardon, ma'am.
We didn't realize that he was--that is--look, Joe, Mrs. Roye wouldn't marry a
Hun."
    "Appears we bade a bistake," Joe said, grudgingly. He examined his blotched
handkerchief, then looked sideways at Siegfried's implacable scowl.
    "Sorry, ma'am." George chimed in, hastily, as Siegfried cleared his throat.
"C'mon, Joe." He pushed Joe back inside the bar, the lion-knocker door slamming
closed behind them.
    "It is very kind of you to help a stranger," Siegfried said to Behrens, tugging his
jacket back into place. "I am Siegfried Rodernwiller."
    The carpenter nodded politely. "Good afternoon, Mr. Rodernwiller." He
pronounced the name effortlessly, and offered a meaty hand to Siegfried. "I'm
Henry Behrens, from Glen Ellen."
    "So pleased to meet you," Siegfried murmured, shaking Behren's hand
vigorously. "Thank you for your assistance."
    Alice gave Behrens a stiff smile and a small nod, trying unobtrusively to pat the
dust from her long skirt, hoping it wasn't torn. She studied Siegfried. Had he been
drinking?
    Henry Behren's next comment allayed some of her fears. "Troublemakers," he
commented, hooking a thumb through his belt. "I thought I was going to have
make some extra repairs in there. It's a shame anti-German sentiments are still
running so high in the county. Those boys ought to know better."
    Siegfried shrugged. "I hope that they have now learned."
    Alice noticed, irritated, that he stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders.
At least Siegfried hadn't started the fight--not if she could believe the implications
of Mr. Behrens' words.
    "I'd better finish up inside. Good day, Mrs. Rodernwiller." Mr. Behrens nodded
at her. "And--welcome to Sonoma, Mr. Rodernwiller. Call on me if you need help
with anything."
    Siegfried smiled and sketched a salute.
    "I'm so sorry I was late," Alice said when Behrens had gone. She was
simultaneously guilt-stricken and resentful. "I needed to buy some things for
dinner. If I hadn't been late--"
    "It is nothing." Siegfried smiled although his lips were bloody.
    "Your mouth!" Alice found her handkerchief in her skirt pocket. What if they
encountered someone she knew? She raised herself on tip-toes, and dabbed at
the blood beading from Siegfried's swollen lower lip. Siegfried closed his eyes but
didn't flinch from her ministrations.
    "That's a little better." Giving up the battle against the drying blood on his chin
as futile without water, she tucked her stained handkerchief away. "Do you need a
doctor?"
    "I have lived through worse without one," Siegfried said, firmly. His bruised
cheek flushed purple.
    "But--" Alice protested.
    "The touch of a pretty woman is better than any doctor," Siegfried opened his
eyes wide and winked at her.
    "My automobile is in front of the station," Alice informed him. Her cheeks were
hot. The nerve of him!
    Siegfried picked up his valise, took her arm, and together they walked across
the street to her truck.
    Alice hurried to keep up with him, comparing him to Bill. To begin with, Bill
would never have fought in a common bar brawl. A quick flash of Siegfried poised
for combat in the hotel bar translated itself into an image of Bill with bayonet
raised. Had Bill's mouth bled? She would never know more than what had been
written in the brief, dry words of the telegram. Regret to inform you...missing in
action...ultimate sacrifice...St. Mihiel Salient.
    "Allow me." Siegfried was holding open the truck's door for her.
    Alice blinked and the moment of intense sadness dissipated. She started to
pull on her coat, and Siegfried helped her with that too.
    She bore his courtesies and seated herself cautiously behind the