“No, they’re windows. Great big, rounded arches that reflect the shape and size of our wines.”
“You’ve obviously been working too hard, since you’re sounding scarily like me.” Mercedes shook her head as she reached for her door. “Go ride your horse and clear your head of that marketing-speak.”
Jillian grinned. “I intend to.”
But first she needed to change clothes and report to Anna, a thought that turned her smile upside down as she drove back to the Vines. While their half sisters had seemed friendly enough, she’d seen the exchange of looks when she’d broached the topic of Anna and Jack. The cooling from friendly to wary to let’s-not-push-this-too-far. It would not be easy, winning acceptance and a fair deal for this latest addition to the Ashton clan.
She parked her car and hurried upstairs, pausing at the open door of the guest room. Anna looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by piles of clothes and baby gear, and her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re back.”
“And still in one piece.” Jillian sidestepped a stack of cuddly toys and perched on the end of the bed. “Where’s Jack?”
“Being thoroughly spoiled by your parents.” Anna picked up a onesie, and smoothed her hands over the garment before she looked up at Jillian again. “It didn’t go well, did it?”
“Well, we met Megan and Paige and Charlotte. They were all open to what we had to say—especially Megan.”
“Except?”
“Except the news about Jack has come as a shock to them. I suspect they just need a little time to adjust.”
Anna released a harsh snort of breath. “I can’t say I’m surprised but thanks for trying, Jillian.”
“Hey, that’s only step one. You’re not giving up. We’re not giving up.”
“I won’t give up.” Anna clutched the onesie tight in her fingers, then pressed it to her chest. To her heart. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him and keep him safe, you know.”
Yes, Jillian did know. She saw the determined set of Anna’s jaw and the fierce light in her eyes, like a tigress set to defend her cub, and it echoed in the hollow of her own maternal soul. “I’m sure I’d feel the same way if he were mine.”
Anna nodded, a little stiffly, then returned her attention to the clothes. For the first time Jillian focused on that folding and stacking. “Are you packing?”
The other woman’s hands stilled for a second. “I’ve imposed on your family’s hospitality enough.”
“Oh, no, you haven’t even begun to impose. You haven’t let me babysit once, and you know I’m dying to have Jack all to myself.”
“You say that because you’ve never changed his diaper.”
“I muck out six stables every day. One little baby is nothing.”
Anna smiled at her attempted humor, but the effort looked forced. She picked up a stack of baby clothes, so small and innocent, and carefully placed them in a duffel bag. “I have to go, Jillian. I can’t take your charity indefinitely and I don’t want to leave owing your family any more than I do now.”
Pride held her shoulders straight, and that posture and the quiet determination in her voice chimed a loud note of recognition in Jillian. She understood Anna’s need for independence, to not feel beholden as she had done to Seth. Seth who had stepped in and insisted on helping, as her mother had done with Anna. Seth who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Seth, whose kiss had been a long time coming.
Jillian straightened her own shoulders, to ward off the stray stroke of desire. “Are you going back to your apartment in San Francisco?”
Anna shook her head. “I can’t risk that. Between the threats and the photographers.”
“Then where?”
“I’ll find somewhere.”
She had nowhere to go, nowhere except another cheap room like the one she’d fled to before. With nowhere for Jack to play, no company for Anna, and no security against whoever had threatened Jack’s safety. Jillian leaned forward and put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder.
“Stay a few more days, until you find somewhere clean and comfortable and safe for Jack. I’ll help—we all will. If we put our heads together I’m sure we can come up with a decent rental. An apartment or a cottage or even a room in a boarding house.” She could feel the tension in Anna’s shoulder, knew pride wouldn’t allow her to give in easily. “Promise you won’t go right now. Give us a few days.”
“Until the weekend,” Anna relented finally.
Jillian smiled. “We’ll find you somewhere before then. I promise.”
Jillian hadn’t expected to find an answer to her promise so close at hand or so soon. Half an hour later, it loomed out of her afternoon ride so unexpectedly that she reined Marsanne to a halt and just stared in why-didn’t-I-think-of-that bemusement.
“Caroline’s enchanted cottage,” she murmured. “How utterly perfect.”
She urged Marsanne into a canter and by the time they halted beside the pretty rail fence, her mind was humming with certainty. The cottage had been empty since their vineyard foreman fell for Abby Ashton and moved to Nebraska a month or two back. They could set a nominal rent, enough to satisfy Anna’s pride but not too much that she couldn’t afford to pay. How could she object?
Because she wanted to keep Jack safe.
Jillian’s excitement dimmed as she studied the pretty but not very childproof fence and the lake beyond. She clicked Marsanne into her long, loping stride and circled the perimeter, studying the fence with an objective eye. “It wouldn’t be too big a job, would it?”
Marsanne shook her head.
“Well, yes, you’re right. For me it would.”
But what about for—say—a builder? A builder who had survived the toddler years as a single parent, keeping his child safe and protected and loved.
Her heart quickened and tightened in her chest.
A builder she’d avoided these past two days because she lacked the courage to deal with his answer to her “what now?” question.
It had been so much easier to bury herself in work and the busy-ness of life than to face the consequences of that kiss and Seth’s admission. That kiss has been a long time coming.
“Not good enough, Jillian,” she muttered, stiffening her spine despite the clutch of nerves in her stomach.
Today, by driving up to the Ashton estate and meeting her half sisters, she had conquered one fear of the unknown. Perhaps, she decided as she touched thumb to ring finger and turned her horse back toward the winery, it was time to face another.
Seth had left before Jillian rode up to the winery on Tuesday afternoon, but she caught him on his cell phone the next day. He was working on another job, but he promised to take a look at the problematic fence before the weekend. Sometime. Thursday he found himself driving by Louret on his way home from a site inspection, and he decided he might as well swing by the cottage.
Three minutes, give or take, and he’d worked out a fix for the fence. He’d also worked up a decent level of irritation. Any half-handy vineyard or winery worker—or brother or stepfather—could have repaired this fence. She hadn’t needed to call in a builder any more than he’d needed to say, “Sure, no problem, I’ll take a look.”
Hell, and weren’t those the words that got him into trouble in the first place? Agreeing to take