Through the dusty window, I could just catch glimpses of Julie’s red hair and light blue shirt. She was dancing inside the shop as she worked. I closed my eyes and caught the sound of her voice on the wind. It blew across the space like a chiming undertone, a sweet bell ringing under the gong of my father’s voice.
“Horatio! Do you even hear me?”
I looked back at my dad who was red-faced and angry. “I told you to get in the car and head over to Sweet Water. Take the address from this man, and go see what you can do to get that part immediately.”
The man he called Billy handed me a crumpled business card with a shaking hand. I also noticed he’d gone absolutely pale.
“I have a meeting with the theater this afternoon to begin planning for the renaming ceremony,” I replied.
“I’m not worried about your pet projects.”
“Pet projects? That’s for Mom.”
“You can just hire a caterer, Horatio. Call and cancel.”
Ignoring him, I added, “And Billy just explained that the mold needed to be recast. That takes time. What should I do, go blow on the mold to make it dry faster?”
Billy laughed, but then hid his laughter behind his hand when my dad glared at him.
Dad shoved his car keys at me. “You’ll find a way to make it work.”
Shaking my head, I stuffed the keys in my pocket and turned to go.
“And Horatio, don’t come back a failure again,” my dad called after me.
As I walked back to the car, I thought about my mom. “Follow your bliss,” she would tell Viola and me. “Follow your bliss. The grapes will grow without you.”
I looked over at the shop once more, and suddenly I felt my resolve stiffen. Enough of this. Enough. If Julie could be brave, why couldn’t I?
Chapter 11: Julie
Later that afternoon, I heard a knock on the front door.
“Excuse me?” someone called.
I was in the living area opening windows and investigating my new oven. “Be right there,” I called.
Dusting off my dirty apron, I came around the corner to find a well-dressed man in his late fifties eyeing the room skeptically. His well-pressed suit, cornflower blue tie, and silver hair exuded the air of money. Though I’d caught just a glimpse of him earlier that morning, it didn’t take more than a second to realize that Mr. Hunter was paying me a visit.
“Are you Miss Dayton?” he asked.
“I am. Mister Hunter, I presume?” I replied, reaching out to shake his hand.
He smiled weakly then gave me a firm handshake. “Yes. Aaron Hunter. I understand my son spoke to you about my company’s interest in this property?”
“Yes. I explained to Horatio that I inherited the property from my relative. I’m planning to reopen the shop.”
“I understand,” Mr. Hunter said then pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. “You see, the proximity of this shop to my new restaurant is very desirable. We had hoped to use the spot for parking. I will definitely make the sale worth your while,” he said, then motioned to the envelope.
I opened the envelope. Inside, I found a check written out to me for the value of the property plus twenty thousand.
“More than enough for a young entrepreneur to rent a suitable shopfront closer to town square and stock her store without going into debt. There are several places along Main Street for rent. I know a number of property owners who would rent to you at a good price. I can make sure you get a deal.”
I looked him over. Aside from the color of their eyes, he and Horatio looked nothing alike. The eye color was nearly the same, but the spirit behind those eyes was very different. Yet, as I fixed Mr. Hunter with my gaze, I caught a brief glimpse of deep sadness behind his hungry stare. For his wife?
I handed him the check. “No. Thank you.”
The paper flapped in the air between us. He didn’t take it.
“Miss Dayton, you’re making a mistake. It’s always difficult to get a new business off the ground. With the right support, you’ll be able to make things go very well here in Chancellor, but starting off with…tension…is not a good way to begin. It is an especially poor way to begin when that tension is between yourself and a well-established business.”
“Tension? I’m not tense. The lovely ladies who were by this morning didn’t seem tense. In fact, the only person around here who seems tense is you. You can’t buy me out of a property that belongs to my family. And last I checked, you can’t even accuse me of witchcraft to take my lands,” I said with a chuckle as I folded up the check and slid it into the lapel pocket of his suit. What I hoped he didn’t notice, however, was how badly my hands were shaking. A fit of adrenaline had taken over my body. I was trembling with both fear and rage. My heart was slamming in my chest. “I don’t have to sell you anything. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very busy,” I said firmly.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” Mr. Hunter said then, his voice turning icy and hostile. He took a step closer toward me. “I have powerful connections. I’ll bury this business before it even—”
“What the hell is going on here?” a voice interrupted from the doorway.
We both turned to see Horatio standing there. He was carrying a box full of cleaning supplies.
“I told you to go to Sweet Water. What are you doing here?” Mr. Hunter asked his son.
“I didn’t go.”
“What?”
“It didn’t make sense. Me breathing down someone’s neck to ‘make a mold faster’ was ridiculous. I didn’t go.”
“Maybe we should step outside,” Mr. Hunter said then.
Horatio crossed the room and set the boxes on the counter.
“From the sounds of it, you need to step outside,” he retorted. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re alone in this building with this young woman, raising your voice at her? What the hell, Dad?”
“Step outside,” Mr. Hunter said through gritted teeth.
Horatio pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it on the box. “No,” he said.
“Horatio, I swear to God, step outside right now or I’ll fire you.”
“You don’t have to. I quit.”
“Quit?”
“Quit. Yes, I quit. I quit the business, quit dragging around behind you, watching you twist into some unrecognizable human being with no heart, no empathy. Mom…Mom would be so sad to see you like this. I can’t stop you, but I won’t stand by you. Now, I think Miss Dayton asked you to leave.”
“That I did,” I said firmly, motioning toward the door. In that moment, I wanted to wrap my arms around Horatio and plaster a huge kiss on his lips. But before that, it was taking all my will not to deck Aaron Hunter in the nose.
Surprising us both, without another word, Mr. Hunter turned and stormed out the door, almost knocking down a little man walking down the sidewalk. The little man turned and watched Mr. Hunter go then turned and looked back at me.
“Looks like the grape baron’s got his feathers ruffled. Are you Miss Dayton?” the little man asked.
“I am.”
“Mrs. McClellan sent me. I’m here to check the plumbing, get the water turned back on. Okay If I have a look around?”
I laughed. “Of course. Thank you.”
“Oh, my pleasure. Emma Jane Aster let me take her to a dance once…you know, after her husband died. She sure could waltz,” the man said, starring off dreamily. “Well, I’ll be in and out if you don’t mind.”