Chapter Four
Delaney stood in the kitchen where the
bright sunlight streaming through the windows seemed incongruous
with the reality of the day. The morning after James’s death should
be gray and gloomy to match her mood. She intended to join Clara
for breakfast, but first things first. Delaney filled her mug with
coffee to fortify herself, then set Callie’s dish on the counter.
The Cosequin and pain relief tablets were stuck into treats before
being planted in the kibble. Callie was cagey about taking her
meds, making sneakiness necessary. With the dish on the raised
tray, Callie moved with her stiff-jointed walk across the kitchen,
showing she was feeling every one of her eleven years. She sniffed
the food and Delaney gave a sigh of relief that at least this
morning Callie was eating.
Delaney sipped from her mug while
standing at the kitchen window gazing at her favorite view of the
Sierras with their soaring granite peaks capped with snow. Payback
Mountain was the closest of those peaks, rising majestically to
tower over the valley, forming the perfect backdrop to the apple
trees of the north orchard, planted on the mountain’s rising
slopes.
Many of the trees had been planted by
her great-grandparents. How many times had she looked at this same
view and spied James on a ladder, clippers in hand, pruning
branches in his deliberate way?
A quiet murmur of voices carried
through the open window. Sunday mornings were her and Clara’s time
to catch up and connect, and it was rare for others to join them. A
deep laugh sounded and her mood dipped even lower as she identified
the culprit.
She gave a fleeting thought to
skipping breakfast and slipping out the front door to get a jump
start on work that needed doing on the farm. But she wasn’t a
coward and no way would she let Walker McGrath chase her
off.
Mug in hand, she went through the
French doors and along the flagstone path to the pergola. The sweet
fragrance and gorgeous lavender blooms of the wisteria covering the
slatted roof didn’t offset the sight of Walker lounging in a chair
across the patio table from her grandmother. That he looked all
long-legged and gorgeous only stoked her temper. Which sizzled
hotter because she didn’t want her heart to stumble when she saw
him. She didn’t want to feel all hot and bothered when he fixed
those sexy green eyes on her.
When she finally pried her gaze away
from his to glance at Clara, she had to stifle a groan because
despite the grief seeming to weigh so heavily, her grandmother gave
a small, pleased smile.
Walker rose to his feet, the sleeves
of his deep blue Henley pushed up to his elbows, revealing the
corded strength of his arms. Okay, she got it. He was altogether
yummy, which meant she had to work extra hard to steel herself
against his magnetic pull so she didn’t do something stupid. Like
taking a bite out of his neck just to see if he tasted as good as
he looked.
If nothing else, her twenties had
taught her to be more careful about revealing what was in her
heart.
He raised an eyebrow at her hesitation
and she had the uncomfortable feeling he knew exactly where her
mind had gone. “Laney.”
She scowled at the nickname. He pulled
another chair to the table, placing it next to his, and gestured
for her to sit. Not seeing much option, she took the
seat.
A colored glass vase sat on the mosaic
tabletop and held pretty mariposa lily blooms. James had loved
mariposa lilies and had planted some in a bed near the house.
Delaney knew her grandmother had picked them to honor
him.
While Delaney preferred to fill a
travel mug with coffee and grab a piece of toast on her way out the
door, Clara’s morning ritual was to sit down to a breakfast of
oatmeal topped with berries with her favorite Earl Grey tea and the
morning paper. Over the past five years, James had frequently
joined her. Their late-in-life relationship made Delaney realize
that sometimes love really could overcome all obstacles. Theirs was
an exception that didn’t prove the rule. But, witnessing two of her
favorite people coming together had been beautiful to
watch.
James wouldn’t join them on Sunday
mornings, saying Delaney needed time with her grandmother—another
instance of him being insightful and astute. Sunday mornings became
hers to spend with Clara, time they made to catch up and take a
breath before being swept up once again in the busyness of their
lives.
But this Sunday had a surreal quality
to it. James had been dead less than twenty-four hours and Delaney
felt like a part of her had been ripped away, leaving her hollowed
out and weepy.
Adding Walker to the mix made her even
more unsettled. His elbow rubbed against hers at the small table.
He grabbed a muffin from a basket, taking a healthy bite with
gleaming white teeth, the strong column of his throat working as he
swallowed. Clara gave a quiet ahem and Delaney silently cursed when
she realized Walker had sucked up all her attention.
Clara spoke in her quiet voice,
addressing Walker. “I’ll think about your proposal because you
asked me to, but like I already said, I’m agreeable and certainly
won’t stand in your way. You need to talk with Delaney, she’s the
one who has final say.”
“Talk to me about
what?”
“I want you to think about
it, Clara. Look over what I emailed you and send me any questions.
Then if it’s still a go with you, I’ll talk with Laney.”
“Hey,” she pointed a thumb
at her chest, “Delaney’s sitting right here.”
Walker swallowed the last of his
muffin and rose to his feet. “Later.” He bent low to give Clara a
kiss on the cheek, gave Delaney’s ponytail a tug, then sauntered
down the walkway and around the corner of the house.
“That man irritates me
just by breathing,” she muttered.
“I wonder why that is,”
Clara said wryly. Face composed and hand steady, she set a plate in
front of Delaney and nudged the basket of muffins and bowl of fresh
berries closer.
Why isn’t Clara a wreck?
“How can you and Walker be
so calm when James died last night?”
“You can’t let your
feelings overwhelm you, Delaney. It’s possible to grieve without
losing control.”
It took her a minute to block the
sorrow and the temper. Showing either wasn’t permissible. Number
one family rule? Bryants didn’t show messy emotion. God knew they
felt messy emotions, and strongly, but wearing them for everyone to
see was simply not allowed: an expectation Delaney had struggled
with her entire life. She’d often thought if Clara hadn’t been so
careful about expressing her emotions, she and James wouldn’t have
wasted so much time ignoring their attraction and would’ve had more
time together.
Delaney swiped at her cheeks. “It’s
honest emotion, Gran. Grieving for him is normal.”
“I loved him
too.”
The waver in her voice had Delaney
studying her grandmother more carefully. “I know you
did.”
Clara always looked effortlessly
beautiful, fine-boned and refined, but now Delaney detected the
tightness of the skin around her mouth and eyes. Maybe grief would
invariably make its presence known.
Age may have turned her hair pure
white, but neither it nor grief dimmed the striking blue of her
eyes or affected her regal posture. Clara Bryant was on the short
side of medium height with a slight frame, but only as an adult had
Delaney come to realize her grandmother’s strength was more a
projection of an iron will than an actual physical
manifestation.
She returned her granddaughter’s study
with a shrewd assessment of her own. “You’ll hold yourself together
at the funeral.” It was stated in a way that didn’t leave room for
anything but acquiescence. “Funerals are for the living, and we
don’t want to start a tidal wave of sobbing. Those closest to the
deceased set the tone for the service.” She gave a narrow-eyed
stare. “I need to be able to rely on you for this.”
Delaney nodded numbly. She shouldn’t
feel surprised by the edict, but as she had no desire to expose her
grief in public, she let her grandmother’s insensitivity
pass.
Clara gave a quick nod as if she’d
ticked off an item from her to-do list and was ready to move on to
the next thing.
“What was Walker talking
about?” Delaney interjected quickly.
“That’s not for me to
share with you. He’ll tell you himself.”
Since there was no budging her
grandmother once her mind was made up, Delaney was forced to do
what she hated more than anything—wait.
“I’ve located one of your
sisters.”
Delaney jolted in her seat and jerked
her attention back to Clara, who raised a cool brow. “I told you I
was looking for them.”
She hadn’t completely forgotten
Clara’s pronouncement several months ago that she was looking for
what she termed her “lost granddaughters.” Delaney was still
surprised at the rather sentimental term given there was a lot of
space between her grandmother and sentimentality.
But the last few months had been
exhausting, mentally and physically, and she’d pushed all thought
of her unknown sisters aside as she’d been absorbed in caring for
James while still running the farm. She’d thought Clara had done
the same.
“You did.” Delaney broke
apart her muffin before taking a bite. She had the fleeting worry
that frown lines were becoming permanently etched on her forehead.
“Was this sister happy to learn her grandmother owns a good stretch
of land in California where property values are going crazy high?
Is she ready to come on over and cement her place in your heart,
and make sure she’s included in your will?”
“I know you’re concerned
your sisters might take advantage of me. But I’m not. You also know
my will states each of my granddaughters will inherit a third of
the farm.”
Which, when she had a moment to give
her grandmother’s plans serious thought, ratcheted up Delaney’s
anxiety enough to add fear for the farm to her list of worries. “I
know you added them to your will. But what I don’t get is why
you’re so willing to trust these women won’t band together and
decide they’re going to sell the farm to a developer. They could
outvote me and I wouldn’t have the power to stop them.”
“If you want to keep the
farm, you’ll have to convince them not to sell. There’s more to
living than Cider Mill Farm, Delaney. It will take over your life
if you let it.” Clara’s direct gaze threatened to drill a hole
through her. “And to clarify, I contacted your sister, but have yet
to hear from her.” Her tone softened a degree. “I want to do what’s
right, and that means finding the other children my son fathered.
As I have no intention of dying any time soon, there’s nothing to
worry about on that front.”
Six months ago, they hadn’t expected
James to die. Delaney didn’t know how she’d continue on if her
grandmother left her too. Already she felt like the bindings that’d
kept her anchored in place throughout her life were slowly being
frayed.
“There’s more.”
Delaney braced herself. She wasn’t
sure how much more she could take before the anchor came completely
loose and she was set adrift.
“I’m retiring from active
work at the farm and will be turning over all operations of Cider
Mill Farm to you.”
Delaney felt her jaw drop. “What? You
can’t do that. This place is your life.”
“It has been, and the
responsibilities here have kept me from doing some things I’ve
always wanted to do. It was fine while James was alive because god
knows that man was perfectly satisfied to stay on this farm until
his dying day.” She lifted thin shoulders. “I wanted to be with him
so I was happy staying here. But he’s gone and I want new
experiences before I’m too old to enjoy them. Besides, you and I
both know you’ve already taken on the lion’s share of the work
here.”
Delaney held up her hand. “Just wait a
damn minute. James hasn’t been dead twenty-four hours. You’re
making big decisions while dealing with grief.”
Clara was already shaking her head.
“James and I talked about this. He encouraged me to book a world
cruise I’d always wanted to take, and that’s exactly what I did. My
friend DeeDee Fowler is going with me. We leave in six weeks and
will be gone for five months.” Her tone softened. “I need this,
Delaney. I don’t want to sit in this house and spend my days being
sad and missing the man I loved so much. Getting ready for a world
cruise will keep me busy, but until I leave, I’ll keep up with my
search for your sisters. I want to meet them. I want them to know
me, if they wish, but most of all, I want you to have a
family.”
Delaney’s life was becoming a
whirlwind. With everything changing so fast, she worried her head
would spin right off her shoulders. “Jesus. Okay, one thing at a
time. First, if going on a world cruise is something you’ve always
wanted to do, then I’m all for it. But second, I do have a family.
You’re my family. So are Keeley and Sawyer and our circle of
friends. James was my family. Sharing DNA won’t make my dad’s other
daughters family.”
“You don’t mention Walker.
He’s family too.”
“Leave Walker out of this.
He chose not to be part of our family.”
“You know that’s not true.
That man dealt with a horrible thing in the way he needed to. But
you’re right about the rest. We’ve brought people into our lives
who we’ve made our family. It doesn’t take anything away from our
chosen family for your father’s other children to be a part of
it.”
She didn’t need strangers to be part
of her family. Delaney shoved up from her seat to pace to the edge
of the patio. Dark clouds now ringed the top of Payback Mountain,
which she thought were a fitting omen. A late spring storm would be
good for the farm and suit her mood perfectly.
“Sit down, Delaney. I want
to tell you what the private investigator reported.”