Bluestone & Vine Page 15

  “Pippa—”

  “It was the right thing to do,” she broke in, before he could apologize again. Then smiled a little more broadly. “Clearly.”

  Rather than the dry smile she’d expected, he looked abashed. “I should have—”

  “Done exactly what you did,” she finished for him, not letting him apologize again. “I agreed with the decision, so it’s not on you. It was selfish of me to keep coming to the vineyard,” she said. “I made all kinds of excuses to myself as to why that was a perfectly fine thing to do. But it wasn’t, and I shouldn’t have. I guess I just . . .” Now it was her turn to trail off.

  “Wasn’t as good at burying your head in the vines as I was?” he finished for her, a hint of that wry note there now.

  “Aye,” she said, feeling foolish for putting them both through this. “I promise I’ll leave you in peace from now on.”

  He didn’t say anything to that, and his expression was unreadable.

  “That is what this is about, right?” Her heart actually skipped a full beat when he didn’t answer right away. She suddenly felt stretched in too many directions. She wanted to go off somewhere, examine her big discovery. She wanted to sit by that creek for hours and let the music fill her until she was drowning in it. Having her music back was enough. It was everything.

  Or should be. So how was it that her huge, overwhelming rediscovery didn’t diminish one bit the fact that she wanted the man standing in front of her so badly she burned with it? Take the thing you came here to find, and let the other one go, her little voice schooled.

  “From now on, it’s me at the cabin, you at the vineyard,” she said, taking the lead if he wouldn’t. “I’m pretty sure we can control ourselves if we happen to bump into each other in public. We’re managing it right now.”

  “Just barely. I want to kiss you so badly my teeth ache,” he said in a husky whisper that thrilled her right down to her toes.

  She stood there, stunned by the heat in his declaration, rooted to the spot, every nerve ending in her body screaming at him to just do it.

  “But I know if we do, there will be no closing the barn door after that,” he said. “And none of the other considerations have changed.”

  The silence stretched out, as if each were willing the other to just go ahead and do it anyway. “You’re right,” she finally said, looking down. Their locked gaze had been so intense that breaking it felt like breaking a physical bond. Still looking down, she said, “Is it okay if I think reality sucks, though?”

  He let out a low, raspy chuckle. “Yeah, I’m right there with you.”

  Another moment passed, then another, with neither of them making a move to say anything further, nor end the conversation and walk away.

  “I’m sorry I intruded,” he said, at length, finally drawing her gaze back to his. “On your epiphany moment.”

  “Honestly, you were the perfect person to share it with,” she told him. “Your insight was ... also perfect.”

  He nodded, and she smiled, and it wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t good, either. Finally, she smiled again ruefully and said, “Is it weird to feel all sad and devastated, like we just broke up, when we never began?”

  A fast grin flickered over his lips, looking almost like relief, but his eyes were still a little bleak. “Not weird at all.” A moment later he turned away from her and faced the creek and the falls.

  A moment later, so did she. It felt like a chasm had opened up between them, even though they weren’t any farther apart now than they had been a second ago.

  “So, what happens for you now?” he asked. “With your music, I mean.”

  “I’m . . . not sure.” She smiled briefly. “You might find me sitting next to this creek a lot.”

  “Well, if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s never to underestimate the power of Blue Hollow Falls.”

  “I believe you’re right about that,” she said softly, thinking he didn’t know the half of it. She watched the waterwheel for long moments as it slowly churned along, pulling up water, pushing it onward, pulling up water, pushing it on again, and let the slow, steady rhythm fill her, as if she was pulling up her own courage, then pushing it over and out. “I like being your friend,” she said abruptly. “I like spending time with you, very much, and I wanted to believe we could leave it at that.” She looked from the wheel, to the water rushing over the falls, and let the rest tumble out. “But you’re right. About that barn door. About this being too much. About me being temporary here.” She wanted to look at him then, but went on and simply finished the rest of what she had to say. “I just wanted you to know I value the friendship you have shown me. Your insight has always been spot-on, and that’s helped me.” She smiled. “And the laughter. I needed that more than I knew.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she finally sneaked a peek from the corner of her eyes, but he was still looking at the falls, and what little she could see of his expression was unreadable. She noted he’d slid his hands in his pants pockets, and wondered—far too desperately—if maybe that was a measure he’d taken to keep from reaching for her, once and for all.

  Then Pippa saw Bailey was heading their way. “It looks like my mill escort is wondering where I’ve gotten off to.” She waited a moment, but when Seth still didn’t say anything, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and thought, Fine then. “I guess it’s time to see where this next step takes me,” she muttered under her breath, not sure if she was more annoyed with his continued silence, or her inability to just stop talking.

  “Anywhere you want it to go,” came just loud enough for her to hear.

  She glanced back to him, wanting to know if she should be reading anything into that, but he was still facing the creek. “Thanks,” she replied quietly, as he’d sounded sincere. Then she turned and walked away. There was, after all, nothing more to say. Except, Good-bye, Seth Brogan.

  She lifted her hand in a wave to Bailey, willing her eyes to stay dry, her throat to stay relaxed. Her heart not to break. “You don’t ask for much,” she murmured.

  Then, mentally kicking herself even as she did it, she glanced over her shoulder for one last look just before Bailey reached her. She was so surprised to see that Seth had turned to watch her walk away that her step faltered, just for a moment. She was too far away now to see his expression, but his stance was steady, the set of his broad shoulders resolute. He looked right at home, fitting in so perfectly with the spectacular backdrop behind him, and yet somehow managing to dwarf it, all at the same time.

  And maybe you don’t ask for enough, her little voice prodded. Ignoring it, and the urge to turn around and run right back to him, she resolutely shifted her gaze forward, for good this time, and found a smile for Bailey.

  “You ready?” Bailey asked, a smile of excitement on her face.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Pippa said, and they walked hand in hand toward the mill.

  Chapter Ten

  Seth didn’t see it as being a glutton for punishment when he followed the two, at a distance, and headed toward the mill as well. He’d been at the mill for a reason, but had detoured when he’d seen Pippa standing beside the creek. He’d had his little speech all prepared for when she came to the vineyard again, but just as well to get it out in the open sooner than later. He’d concluded just that morning that it was both silly and childish—not to mention impractical—for him to continue to find ways to be as far away from his own barn as possible when she was there. He’d confess she was a distraction, put all the blame on himself—where it rightly belonged, as obviously she wasn’t having any of those issues herself—and ask, as kindly as possible, if she could refrain from spending so much time at his vineyard. Or any time at his vineyard.

  He’d even planned to offer to talk to Addie to see if maybe they could keep Elliott up at Addie’s and Bailey’s cabin, so Pippa could go visit him there. Dex would mope, but the sheep were back outside, back to their regular routine, so Dex would be too bus
y to mourn too much. Seth would play him Disney marathons if he had to.

  He walked over to the creek, mentally rehearsing it again, but then she’d turned to him, those brilliant blue eyes of hers drenched with raw emotion, a sheen of tears, and what looked like relief, joy, and terror, all rolled into one. And all his carefully rehearsed explanations had dissipated like the mist that hung over the falls.

  That they’d eventually had “the talk” anyway was of little solace to him now. Because now he knew she wasn’t at all nonchalant about this ... thing, they shared. The more she’d danced in and out of his barns, cheerfully chattering with him as easily as she chatted with Bailey and Jake, the more he’d become convinced that he’d been blowing what happened at Mabry’s into a way bigger thing than it had been for her. He’d told himself that for all her down-to-earth nature, the truth was, she was a well traveled, worldly woman. She’d told him there hadn’t been a romance in her life since her swift climb to fame, and he believed her, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gleaned a lot of life experience from her globe-trotting lifestyle. Maybe she was just better equipped to handle a surprising attraction.

  You’ve trotted the globe, too, you know, gleaning all sorts of life experiences. How’s that working out for you so far in the relationship department?

  He ignored the question, because the thing was, he’d made himself believe it was all in his head—and various other parts of his body—and he’d be doing them both a favor by just laying down the necessary ground rules so he could move on with his life. Instead he’d discovered he didn’t know jack squat about anything when it came to how Pippa felt about him.

  He paused inside the door to the mill and took a moment to try to shove all of that from his mind. It had been said; it was done. Over. Just because it had taken every ounce of willpower he had not to scoop her up like some Neanderthal and carry her off to his mountain lair the moment he realized he wasn’t at all alone in this raging attraction, that changed nothing. If anything, it should be more of a relief. He’d never have to see her again. I guess it’s time to see where this next step takes me. He swallowed several very succinct swear words. “Anywhere I want it to,” he muttered. Now all he had to do was make himself believe it.

  Seth scanned the interior of the mill, realizing he was looking for her, and swore under his breath. Get a grip, man. It’s done.

  The mill was a bustle of activity, as it had been since it had opened, way ahead of schedule, just before Christmas. It hadn’t been completely finished back then, but enough that they’d been able to get things going. Seth, Sawyer, and Jake’s dad, Will McCall, had been the driving force behind the bulk of the renovation, with an enormous amount of help from a few local contractors, townsfolk who wanted to pitch in for the greater good, and all of the crafters and their families as well. They’d gutted the interior and put in three floors. The basement, which had a walkout around back, was where Addie and Sawyer each kept an office for overall mill and guild business. The furnace and electrical grid were down there as well.

  The main level, which opened on the side of the building via a large sliding panel door, featured a catacomb of individual booths, studios, and nooks, that had been added organically as each artist created a spot to display his or her wares, along with space to create and demonstrate their art. It made for a market-like feeling, inviting visitors to wander through the aisles, in and out of each artist’s domain like a folk-art-oriented bazaar.

  The third floor, accessed by a staircase built into the wall opposite the one that housed the mechanics for the waterwheel, was a series of shared classrooms where artists could teach seminars, conduct demonstrations, or hold lectures. Different classroom spaces were set up for different types of art or craft; one for music, one for painting, one for sewing, weaving, and needlework, and a large generic space that leant itself to any number of other classroom needs.

  There wasn’t any one spot a person could stand on the main floor and see more than a few of the booths or studios, but the chatter of the artists and the patrons filled the air, giving it a friendly neighborhood vibe, and everyone could hear the music that echoed forth from the rear of the building. Sawyer’s brewery and gastropub were back there, along with a small stage where the musicians in residence could play, alone or together, oftentimes inviting other local or visiting musicians to join them. That was something that happened throughout any given day, as was happening now with Drake on his mandolin. He’d been joined by someone on a Dobro as well, from the sounds of it. Folk music, sometimes lively, sometimes soulful, lent the place a joyful vibrancy that was the perfect complement to the creative energy that abounded from studio setting to booth display.

  Seth wandered down one of the aisles along the west side of the building, intending to take the most direct path back to Sawyer’s place, but admitting he was still looking about for a glimpse of Pippa. It wasn’t so odd, he told himself, given the moment of self-revelation she’d had by the water, that he’d want to see how she was doing. She would be meeting people who were quite likely fans of hers, as well as being confronted with their urging her to join Drake on stage to play or sing.

  He had a brief thought that he should have come through first before going out to talk to her, had a chat with the guild members, asked them not to pressure Pippa to perform ... then shook his head. Not your problem. Besides, she could handle herself, as she’d proven time and again. He really needed to let go of this protective streak he seemed to have for her. One he knew damn well had nothing to do with Pippa’s connection to his sister.

  He was halfway to the back when he heard her unmistakable laughter. Not the giggle that Bailey so easily elicited from her. This was a full-bodied, throaty laugh, and he knew she was probably busy putting a nervous fan at ease or making someone feel they were the center of her attention. And they would be, in that moment. A more real or genuine woman than Pippa MacMillan he’d yet to meet.

  “Oh boy,” came a deep voice behind. “Brother, I know that look.”

  Seth turned to find Sawyer standing next to him. Seth topped his former commanding officer by an inch or two and was a bit broader in size, but Sawyer was still a commanding figure in both stature and attitude. He was relentlessly positive and the most outgoing guy in the room. Folks tended to gravitate toward Sawyer, and he ended up in leadership roles time and again, mostly because everyone around him happily waited for him to direct them. Seth had long since given up trying to figure out the source of his best friend’s magnetism, and simply accepted it as Sawyer’s due.

  “There is no look,” Seth told him. “Therefore, your pity is misplaced.”

  Sawyer chuckled. “Oh, this isn’t pity, my friend.” He clapped Seth on the shoulder. “This is a welcome to the party.”

  Seth threw him a side eye, even while part of him was half straining to hear what Pippa was saying as he and Sawyer drew closer to the sound of her voice. “I’d ask what party, but I’m very sure I don’t want to know.”

  “The party of lovesick fools, still trying to tell themselves they can manage it, control it, put it neatly into a little box labeled ‘things I am definitely never going to do,’ then stick it on the shelf. Like it has a hope in hell of staying there.” Sawyer laughed. “Learn from my mistake, pal. Stop torturing yourself. You’re wasting precious time.”

  Seth kept walking without giving Sawyer the benefit of a response. It irked him that he was so obvious. “I’m the laid-back, not-a-care-in-the-world kind of guy. If you don’t count the huge winery I’m trying to get off the ground,” Seth said, as they ducked through the swinging panels between the pub’s kitchen and the tiny office Sawyer used for pub business. Seth nodded hello to Hudson, Sawyer’s new chef, then closed the door behind them once Sawyer was inside. “Not the fall-apart-over-a-woman-who’ll-be-an-ocean-away-in-a-few-weeks kind of guy.”

  The performers on the pub’s small stage had grown to a trio now, and though the music was more lilting than thumping, the stage was just beyond
the other wall of Sawyer’s office, close enough that Seth sat on the corner of Sawyer’s heavy old oak desk so they could talk without having to shout.

  Sawyer sat in the old leather swivel chair behind the desk and studied his friend for a long moment. Then he laughed and said, “Yeah, you really should just give up and give in now.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk about Pippa,” Seth said, deciding Sawyer was having way too much fun at his expense. “I wanted to touch base with you before I talk to Addie. With spring finally making an appearance, I was thinking about adding on to the pens we built for Bailey’s sheep last fall. So she could house her goats up there and not have to make the trek to the vineyard all the time.”

  Sawyer’s smile slipped. “Is there a problem with her going out there? Or Jake? Did something happen?” They all cared about Bailey as if she were their own, but none so much as Sawyer. Bailey had bonded with him straight off when she’d first come to town the previous fall. “Because you have to know she doesn’t just go out there to play with the sheep and the goats. She’s out there babysitting you.”

  Seth’s brows shot up in honest surprise. “Babysit me? What on earth for?”

  Sawyer shook his head, the smile back. “And here I thought you knew how her mind worked by now.”

  “I thought I did. Illuminate me.”

  “When she first got here, we were finishing up the mill, Sunny had just started in on renovating that monstrosity of a greenhouse out in the woods, and I set to work getting the brewery up and running. So Bailey had all her mother-hen tendencies tied up in overseeing the mill, overseeing me and the brewery, and Sunny with the greenhouse. And making sure Sunny ended up with me, too, now that I think about it.” He leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head, the teasing glint back in his bright blue eyes. “The mill is done now, my brewery is coming along, Sunny’s got the greenhouse up and going, so . . . it’s your turn, my obtuse friend.” His smile widened to a pleased, satisfied grin. “And apparently Pippa’s turn as well. I heard Bailey gave her a goat.”