14. Chapter Fourteen #2
“The right to buy later or assign that right to someone else. It stopped the sale long enough to keep the buildings from getting worse.”
Wendy folded her arms across her chest. “Someone else meaning… me?”
Eli shrugged. “You, an entity you control, another buyer you name, or no one. You can refuse it.”
“And owe him what?”
“Nothing.”
Lily spoke for the first time. “What work did he authorize?”
“Roofs, openings, water damage, unsafe supports, drainage, debris, and protection for the vines. Assessment where Rafael isn’t sure something can be saved.”
Wendy recognized Rafael Soto’s name from local preservation projects. Back when she dreamed of buying Vesper Hill for herself, she’d thought about hiring him. He was the best in the area.
“No construction?” she asked.
“No permanent design, no room layouts, finishes, therapeutic plans, residential plans, vineyard changes, or branding.” Eli nodded toward the inn. “The orders are inside. You can read them.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Wendy asked, somewhat deflated. She didn’t know what to think about this anymore.
“Because Hunter told them not to.”
The answer struck the oldest bruise in her heart.
“He made another decision about my life and decided I shouldn’t know?”
Eli didn’t flinch. “He decided your block meant he couldn’t use this to contact you. His instructions cover his lawyers, escrow, the realtor, inspectors, contractors, preservation staff, your parents, Lily, and anyone who might carry a message.”
“But he knew the town would talk,” she said.
“He knew they might.” Eli rubbed the back of his neck as if he were embarrassed.
Wendy looked toward the inn.
“How did he even find it?” she asked.
“Your old episode with Lily,” Eli said. “He was listening to the public archive and heard you talk about Vesper Hill. Then he found the developer plans.”
Lily let out a slow breath. Wendy couldn’t look at her yet.
Hunter had listened. Late. Years too late. But closely enough to hear the name of a place Wendy had stopped believing she’s ever have.
“And you?” Wendy asked Eli. “Why are you here?”
“The canceled tour left me free. Hunter sounded bad, and he shouldn’t be alone right now.”
She shook her head, looking at Eli with suspicion. Eli was slightly older than her and Hunter, and even though she couldn’t say he was her friend, he’d always felt like someone solid and serious. Someone she could trust.
“Listen,” he continued. “I won’t tell you he’s a good man now. I won’t ask you to forgive him, and I won’t even tell him you were here today if you don’t want me to.”
Wendy believed him, so she nodded.
“Can I… look around?” she asked.
Eli gave them hard hats and pointed out the unsafe areas. He didn’t follow when Wendy and Lily entered the inn.
The front desk still had its brass hooks, and faded numbers remained on the guest-room doors.
Water stains marked the walls, but the damaged places had been measured and tagged instead of hidden behind new paint.
In the tasting room, long windows faced the vineyard.
Old bottle racks covered one wall, and a plain brick fireplace stood at the other end.
The damaged rear section had been sealed against rain.
Nothing had been made pretty.
A folding table held inspection reports and work orders. Wendy recognized Hunter’s handwriting. Her finger hovered above the words without touching them.
“He stopped someone else from destroying it,” Lily said.
Wendy turned away from the page. “I didn’t ask him to, though.”
“I know. But it’s still… good. Right?” Lily fixed her with a soft gaze. “It would’ve been a shame for Vesper Hill to be torn down and redone by some developer.”
Wendy nodded, not trusting her voice. She felt her eyes burn and she blinked fast, not understanding why she suddenly felt so emotional. It could’ve been the hormonal changes happening in her body.
They walked through the cottages. Broken windows had been boarded within the original frames, weak sections were marked off, and the private exits Wendy had once drawn in her green binder remained only an idea.
At the barn, the doors were braced and the carved wood from the debris rested on a tagged salvage stack.
Everywhere Wendy looked, she found protection without completion. That difference mattered. She hated that it mattered.
Lily stood beside her among the old vines. “You don’t owe him because he did one thing right.”
“I know.”
“You also don’t have to pretend it means nothing.”
Wendy pressed a hand low against her stomach. “I know that too.”
They returned their hard hats and walked toward Wendy’s car. Eli had gone back to the barn without asking what she thought. Wendy had started the engine when an ordinary dark truck came up the drive with lumber, rolls of roof membrane, and boxes strapped in the bed.
Hunter was behind the wheel.
Her body reacted before her judgment could catch up. She pulled into an old side lane screened by vines and two oak trees, giving the truck space to pass. Then she remained there.
Hunter parked near the inn. He wore faded jeans, dusty boots, and a gray shirt darkened with sweat at the collar. His hands looked scraped when he loosened the straps across the truck bed.
Rafael crossed the drive and said something Wendy couldn’t hear. Hunter reached for a box, stopped when Rafael pointed, and carried it to a different stack. He didn’t argue. When a crew member handed him the wrong end of a long board, Hunter adjusted his grip and followed the other man’s pace.
People began packing tools as the light softened. Hunter kept moving materials under the tarped section of roof. He paused and wiped his face with his forearm.
Wendy leaned toward the door handle. The impulse was strong. Cross the distance, put cold water in his hand, ask whether he’d eaten, touch the back of his neck and feel his body settle because she was there. She gripped the steering wheel instead.
“Do you want him to see you?” Lily asked softly.
Wendy watched Hunter bend for another box. As far as he knew, no one important was watching. Whatever the work he was doing meant, it wasn’t being performed for her reaction.
“No,” she said. “Not today.”
She backed out before he looked toward the vines. She didn’t feel like going home, so she drove toward the Aria Springs overlook. Lily had never been, so Wendy thought this was a perfect time to show her one of her favorite places in town.
They got out of the car. The valley spread below them in deep green and gold. Rooftops clustered around Main Street, and the roads narrowed into the hills. Vesper Hill lay beyond one of those folds, hidden from view.
Wendy stood near the low wall with Lily beside her. Her hand returned to the baby without thought.
“What he’s doing matters,” she said.
Lily nodded. “Yes.”
“It isn’t enough.”
“That’s for you to decide.”
“He can’t preserve one place and purchase the marriage he damaged.” At this point, Wendy was trying to convince herself more than anything. The problem was she wasn’t sure she believed her own words anymore.
“If that’s what he’s doing…” Lily offered, reluctantly.
Anger was easier when every action could be dismissed as another form of control. Hunter had left the rooms unfinished, protected her right to refuse, and kept working as the others began packing up.
He had no idea she’d seen him.
Wendy held the baby under her palm and faced the hidden road to Vesper Hill, shaken by the possibility that Hunter might finally be choosing her when he believed she wasn’t watching.