A painful lump swelled in Whitney’s throat, and though she tried to swallow it, it wouldn’t go away.
Luke went to crouch by his son, running a hand over his dark hair, and speaking reassuringly to him. Soothing him.
Whitney picked up her mug and walked unhappily out of the kitchen.
And as she did, she swore that, however long Luke stayed at Brannigan House, no matter how he infuriated her, she’d never lose her temper with him again.
At least, she amended, not in front of the baby!
CHAPTER THREE
‘EDMUND MAXWELL has gone on holiday and he won’t be back for two weeks.’ Whitney put her coffee mug into the dishwasher. ‘That should give you a breathing space. Time to look around for a job. Once you’ve got one, you can move out.’
‘A job?’
As she heard the amusement in Luke’s voice, Whitney turned to glare at him. ‘Yes, a job. As in “a paid position of employment?” Even beach bums have to grow up someday!’
‘Not necessarily.’ He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. ‘Anyway, who’d hire me? I’m a high school dropout.’
‘You could work as a laborer at a construction site—there’s a new housing scheme going up at the end of the lake. You look fit enough—’ she avoided looking at his wide chest and muscled arms ‘—and there should be no problem getting hired on.’
‘Is there a bus service up here now from town?’ Luke scratched his head. ‘Didn’t used to be...’
‘You can eventually buy a used car.’
‘What we have here is a catch-22 situation. If I were to find a job, I’d need a vehicle to get to it, but I wouldn’t be able to afford a car till I had more than a few paychecks in my hand. Besides, there is a problem...’
Troy sputtered, and spat out a few crumbs of toast. ‘—and as you can see,’ Luke went on dryly, ‘he’s not about to be overlooked.’
‘Enrol your son in a day care center. That’s what other people in your position have to do. Why should you have to be any different!’
Troy was scowling, as he looked from one to the other.
A scowl which reminded Whitney of her vow not to fight with Luke in front of the child.
She drew in a deep breath. ‘We’ll continue this discussion later, when the baby’s asleep.’
Luke got to his feet, and taking her arm in a firm grip, led her out into the hallway, letting the kitchen door swing shut.
‘This discussion will go nowhere.’ Tension tightened his voice. ‘If you think I’d leave my son with a complete stranger, you’ve got rocks in your head.’
‘No need to leave him with a stranger.’ Whitney tilted her chin challengingly. ‘Does the name Dixie Mae ring a bell?’
‘Dixie who?’
‘Five feet nothing, blond hair fluffed out to here, and breasts out to there?’
His quick grin irritated her. As did his lazily drawled, ‘Ah, now I remember. Dixie Mae Best. She was—’
‘One of your many girlfriends.’
‘Dix’s still around?’
‘Oh, yes, she’s still around. And she runs the Best Day Care Center in Emerald. She’s had a couple of bad marriages, but apparently she’s good with children.’
‘Is she still as...?’ Straight-faced, Luke sketched a couple of voluptuous circles with his hands.
‘Why don’t you look her up, and you can find out for yourself!’
‘I may just do that. But I tell you one thing, I’ll not put Troy in day care. The kid stays with me.’
‘Well, that cuts down on your options. You really—’
He cut into her derisive response. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’
‘A walk? I don’t want to go for a walk! I have things to do.’
‘When I was hiking up the road from town yesterday, I had a look at the vineyards. I want to have a closer look. And maybe you can explain why—’
‘If you want to talk business, talk to Edmund Maxwell when he gets b—’
‘The Emerald Valley Vineyard used to be one of the most profitable in the Okanagan. Don’t try to tell me it still is. What we have here is a vineyard full of baco noir, verdelet, and Seyve-Villard—grapes my father planted sixteen years ago—grapes that have little cachet in today’s varietal-driven market. Dammit, my grandmother should have seen what was happening! She should have anticipated—’
‘Your grandmother had been failing for some time before her accident. She hired a temporary manager, but he didn’t work out, and after that, she let things slide—’
‘Didn’t you take any interest in the vineyards? After all, it was Brannigan money that brought you up and has given you the high standard of living you enjoy here—’
‘Now just a minute! When I was teaching, I contributed more than my fair share to the household expenses—’
‘—and it’ll be the interest from Brannigan capital that will in the future keep you in the luxury you’re—’
‘There is no Brannigan capital! Edmund Maxwell told me that yesterday, before he left. So you see, you have nothing to gain by standing in the way of my selling.’
‘My grandmother used the capital? You’ve been living off the capital? My God, I can’t believe—’
Whitney cringed from his burning anger and outrage. ‘So you see, there’s no option but to sell. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t afford to keep up this place.’
‘Da-da-da...’
The plaintive call for attention came from the kitchen.
‘Get a jacket.’ Mouth set grimly, Luke glowered down at her. ‘I want to take a closer look at what we’ve got. But I tell you now, you can forget about selling this place. It’s not going to happen.’
Brannigan House was situated at the end of the northern tip of the Naramata bench. The vineyards, perched on the valley’s steep slopes, with a south-western exposure, climbed above Emerald Lake. The neat rows striped the rolling hills like wales in heavy green corduroy.
Whitney had thrown on a parka over her T-shirt and jeans, but although Luke had dressed the baby cosily, and tucked the blue cap on his head, he himself wore no jacket.
Perhaps the carrier cut the breeze, at least on his back, Whitney reflected as they walked together down the road that cut diagonally across the planted vines.
‘You say you’ve had nothing to do with the vineyards.’ Luke didn’t look at her as he spoke.
‘Not because I wasn’t interested,’ she said steadily. ‘It’s just that with my fair skin, I can’t stay out too long in the sun, so working outside was never an option for me—’
‘Anyway, you were an academic.’ He broke in roughly. ‘Your nose was always stuck in one school text or another. Did you stay on at Penticton High?’
‘For a year, then your grandmother sent me to boarding school on Vancouver Island. After graduation, I went to UBC...and before you start