Chapter Six – Cassia
As Cassia drove away from the Thornberg Vineyard, and Kris, she could not shake the idea that she was making a mistake.
Not in agreeing to a two-week trial for a job that did not exist. But because when she’d left Kris, it was as if she had left part of herself behind.
Which was ridiculous. She did not believe in love at first sight. And after the way her ex-fiancé had treated her, she wasn’t sure if she believed in love at all.
However, she could not deny that every time she lifted her gaze to the rearview mirror, the ghost of Kris Thornberg’s tall silhouette drifted across her mind’s eye, making her heart skip. It was as if she could still sense him—his presence, his warmth—despite leaving the vineyard in her rearview for good, or at least until tomorrow.
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, eyes sliding to the folded piece of paper on the passenger seat. On it were the directions Kris had scribbled down for her to find Aunt Mel’s place. Apparently, it was quite remote, and the GPS could not always be trusted. So it was a good thing Kris had spelled out each twist and turn as if wanting to ensure she got there safely.
She pictured his face in her mind, the protective concern in his dark eyes when he’d carefully written out every landmark she would pass. There was something intensely comforting about a man who paid such careful attention to details.
Was she really falling for this man?
A short laugh escaped her lips, echoing hollowly in the confines of the car. Yes, she was. She was, ironically enough, quite giddy about all of this. Which was insane—a two-week trial for a job that, until an hour ago, literally did not exist. She had no real guarantee that Kris had the resources, the backing, or even the skill to conjure a functioning restaurant out of thin air. And yet she felt it was right.
Am I losing it? she wondered. Or is it just the wine talking? Her rational mind insisted it might be the latter; after all, she’d spent the last part of the afternoon tasting different Thornberg blends, enough to leave her happily warm but not intoxicated. Certainly not over the legal limit to drive.
No, it was more about what the wine represented. The history of the vineyard, the story of the Thornberg family. Not to mention, the various wines had been delightful, but nowhere near as potent as Kris’s presence.
She rolled down the window, letting in the cool evening air. Maybe letting the wind sting her cheeks would help keep her mind off how striking Kris had looked in the dim light, or how his voice dropped whenever he described a particularly good wine. She swallowed a lump in her throat.
She sensed that behind his somewhat shy exterior, he had hidden depths that she longed to explore. She wanted to discover everything about him.
With a shake of her head, she snapped her attention back to the road. Tall pines and oaks lined the winding route, creating pockets of darkness as the sun set lower behind the mountains. She slowed at a bend, carefully following Kris’s scribbled instructions as she turned onto a road that climbed higher into the mountains until, eventually, the paved road gave way to a narrower, tree-lined lane.
The lane went on and on, and it was a relief when she finally spotted a small sign reading Bear’s Rest Guest House on the right, half-hidden by an overgrown hedge. Cassia turned in, her headlights bouncing off the rocky path.
She’d made it!
She couldn’t wait to relax and kick off her shoes. It sure had been a long and eventful day.
Kris had said his aunt Mel was welcoming. “She’s like a mother hen,” he’d joked.
Good.
Cassia needed a bit of mother-henning these days, especially since her actual mother was hundreds of miles away, and Cassia wasn’t on the best of terms with…well, anyone from her old life.
They’d all thought she was overreacting when she broke off the engagement with Dante. Her mother even had the gall to insinuate that Cassia should forgive Dante because he was probably the best she was ever going to get. The memory still stung.
She bit her lip, refusing to let her thoughts spiral back to that betrayal. No. This is about new beginnings, she reminded herself. A new adventure.
Cassia parked her car in front of the charming two-story cottage with a wraparound porch. The structure was nestled among tall pines, with warm golden light spilling from the windows. It looked like something from a fairy tale, complete with window boxes overflowing with colorful flowers.
Before she could even turn off the engine, the front door swung open, and a woman emerged onto the porch. She was petite with silver-streaked dark hair pulled into a loose bun, wearing a floral apron over casual clothes. This had to be Mel.
“You must be Cassia!” the woman called, waving enthusiastically. “Kris called to say you were on your way. Come in, come in! You must be exhausted.”
“It has been a long day,” Cassia admitted, feeling an immediate warmth toward the woman. She grabbed her purse and made her way up the stone path. She’d collect the rest of her luggage later.
“I’m Melanie Thornberg, but everyone calls me Mel,” the woman said, pulling Cassia into an unexpected but somehow not unwelcome hug. “Welcome to Bear’s Rest. I hope you found the place all right. We’re a little out of the way and the mountain roads can be tricky after dark if you are not familiar with them.”
“Kris’s directions were very detailed. I don’t think I could have gotten lost if I’d tried.” Cassia smiled, noting how Aunt Mel’s gaze flicked briefly over her, as though summing up more than just her physical appearance. “Thank you for letting me stay at such short notice.”
“Think nothing of it!” Mel let out a light laugh. “It’s what we’re here for.” She gestured for Cassia to follow, leading her around the side of the main house. “We have a couple of little guest houses for folks passing through. Usually hikers or nature lovers. But I suppose you’re here on business, hmm? Kris didn’t say.”
Cassia tried to maintain composure. Business. Yes, that was the official line, though it felt more personal than that. “Yes, I’m helping your nephew with a new venture. Or I’m hoping to,” she said carefully.
Mel cast a quick grin over her shoulder as she led the way. “A new venture. Yes, it is certainly that.”
Heat rose in Cassia’s cheeks, though she forced a neutral nod. Did Mel sense Cassia felt something more for her nephew? But how? Was Cassia that obvious? She would need to be more guarded on her next encounter with Kris Thornberg. “He definitely seems dedicated.”
Mel chuckled, pushing open a small gate leading to a path of stepping stones. “Oh, he is. That boy has always had a strong dedication to what he loves. Now, watch your step here. Some of these stones shift if you stand on them wrong.” As they walked, Cassia noticed how carefully maintained the surroundings were: potted plants, neat little wind chimes tinkling in the faint breeze, and lanterns casting warm puddles of light across the pathway. Soon, the path opened to a quaint little cottage that looked as if it was once a barn or some other outbuilding. “And here we are.”
Cassia’s breath caught for a moment at how picturesque it looked. Nestled among towering pines, the guest house exuded warmth, as though it had been built just for weary travelers like her. Mel nudged the door open, flicking on an interior lamp. “It’s compact. A bedroom, a small living area, plus a kitchenette. The bathroom is at the back. If you need anything at all, just give me a shout.”
“Oh, I’m sure I won’t need to disturb you,” Cassia said.
“You won’t,” Mel replied. “I’m on my own for a couple of days. My husband, Kris’s uncle is away for a couple of days on a mountain patrol.” She stared toward the distant peaks towering above them her eyes unfocused as if she were searching for him out there.
Cassia stepped inside the guest house, the interior smelled faintly of cedar and fresh linens, and it was decorated with cozy mountain-town touches: plaid throw blankets, a crocheted rug, and framed photos of local flora and fauna on the walls. “This is lovely,” Cassia said, turning around to take it all in. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so instantly at peace in a new place.
“I’m sure you are going to enjoy your stay.” Mel watched her with a kind, evaluating gaze. “You must be hungry.”
Cassia hesitated, she’d eaten nothing since midday, aside from the bread Kris had offered during the tasting to cleanse her palate. “Honestly, I’m starving, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all,” Mel said cheerily. “I always cook too much since I never know when one of my boys might pop in. I’ll bring you up a plate in a few minutes. You just get yourself settled in.”
So this was the mother-hen side Kris had warned her about. She offered Mel a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
Mel nodded, hand lingering on the doorknob. “And would you like a glass of Thornberg wine with your dinner?”
Cassia’s pulse quickened as an image of Kris once again invaded her thoughts . She nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Wonderful.” With a smile, Mel excused herself. “Now, make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Cassia let out a slow breath once Mel was gone, the door clicking softly behind her. Alone in a new place, again. But this time, it didn’t feel lonely or frightening. How could it?
The cottage had a snug living area with a small sofa, a coffee table, and a single armchair by the window. Beyond that, a door presumably led to the bedroom, another to the bathroom. It was more than enough for a comfortable short-term stay.
She ran her hand across the back of the sofa, gently pressing the cushions. The place had an immediate charm, the sort that coaxed her to sink in and forget her worries. But she had tasks to do. First, she needed to collect her luggage from the car.
Turning her back on the interior, she headed back out, careful not to tumble on the stones. Hugging her jacket around her against the chill evening air, she reached her car, opened the trunk, and grabbed her suitcase. As she closed the trunk she paused, taking in her surroundings. It was so quiet up here. With only the rustle of the leaves and a distant hoot of an owl breaking the silence.
This was what she needed. Peace and quiet, and time to heal.
Grasping her suitcase tightly, she headed back to the cabin and headed for the bedroom. It was not exactly big, but the bed was comfortable, and the pastel furnishings created a relaxing atmosphere.
Settling on the edge of the bed, she flipped open the suitcase, rummaging past the typical T-shirts and jeans. She pulled out a soft pair of lounge pants and a plain tank top, thinking that’d be good enough for an evening’s unwinding. After slipping into them, she felt the day’s tension in her back ease, though her mind still buzzed with the memory of Kris’s voice, the faint trace of concern in his eyes when he asked if she was okay with all of this.
Yes, she was. She had to be. Because an hour into meeting him, she’d basically staked her future on his half-baked plan. Now, the least she could do was start drafting the structure of the menu. Show him she wasn’t all talk, that she was serious about this. No matter how handsome he was, she needed to prove she’d come for the job, not just for him.
She rummaged in her purse, pulling out the bright pink notebook where she’d taken her tasting notes. The pages now had scribbles referencing four or five different Thornberg wines, each with potential dish ideas. She carefully set it on the small desk in the corner, ready to add more detail.
First, she would separate the dishes by season. Put her focus on a small rotating menu centered around seasonal produce, locally sourced . Excitement flickered. She’d never been solely responsible for designing a full menu. It was a challenge but one she would rise to.
A knock on the door snapped her attention away. “Come in,” she called as she closed the notebook and left the bedroom.
The front door opened, and Mel stepped inside, carrying a tray that tantalized Cassia’s senses. “I hope this is okay,” Mel said, placing it on the small table by the window. “Just some leftover pot roast, potatoes, vegetables. A bit simple, but it’s hearty. And here’s your Thornberg wine.” She winked. “Enjoy.”
Cassia’s stomach gave an appreciative growl. “Thank you, Mel. This is perfect.” She eyed the glass of wine, seeing the deep hue. “Merlot or Cab?”
Mel smiled, folding her arms. “It’s the new Merlot Kris put out last year. Should pair nicely with pot roast if you don’t mind a heavier red.”
Cassia nodded, a thrill of excitement threading through her veins at the mention of Kris’s name. “I don’t mind at all. Sounds wonderful.”
Mel lingered a moment, looking as though she wanted to say something more. Cassia caught the curious spark in her eyes as if she were searching for clues or reading Cassia’s body language. But the older woman simply smiled. “You enjoy your dinner. And remember, if you need anything, just knock on the door or call me on that phone by the nightstand. Yes, there’s a direct line.”
Cassia, deeply moved by Mel’s kindness, nodded gratefully. “Thanks again. I appreciate all this hospitality.”
“It’s our pleasure,” Mel replied, stepping back toward the door. “I’ll let you settle now.” She hesitated, a flash of amusement in her smile. “Kris is a good man.” Then Mel gave a little wave and pulled the door shut behind her before Cassia could respond.
How she wanted to believe Mel. Once bitten, twice shy. And boy, had she been bitten.
Cassia sank onto the chair by the table, letting the delicious aroma envelop her. Pushing thoughts of Kris out of her mind , she picked up the fork and took a bite, the rich flavors of the tender meat and vegetables bursting on her tongue. Aunt Mel was a wonderful cook. The pot roast was perfectly seasoned, with hints of rosemary and thyme, and the vegetables were still crisp, not overcooked.
As she ate, Cassia turned to her notebook and flipped it open to her scrawled notes. After scanning through them, she began adding more detail. The new Merlot could pair with anything from midweight roasted poultry to a robust cheese platter. She scribbled ideas for side accompaniments: roasted root vegetables, maybe a sauce with a slight tang. Then she jotted a star next to her short-ribs concept, mentally placing it under a “winter menu” heading.
Her pen flew across the page, sometimes pausing as she took quick bites of potato or sips of wine. Time slipped away.
In the back of her mind, the shape of a real, workable menu was forming. Possibly small, maybe just six or seven dishes, each carefully paired with a Thornberg wine. Enough to impress visitors and give them the essence of Bear Creek’s local charm.
Eventually, the plate was empty, the wine glass half-full, and her notebook full of new bullet points. She leaned back in her chair, letting her shoulders loosen. A drowsy contentment threatened to lull her, courtesy of the good food and the swirl of wine.
She should try to get some sleep soon. Tomorrow was going to be an intense day, with Kris expecting her bright and early. She certainly didn’t want to appear incompetent or unprepared.
Not when the rest of her life was riding on this.