Carla Neggers - Tempting Fate

“But why would he attack-”

“I don’t know.”

Zeke’s gaze was unrelenting, but he seemed pensive, even remote. Dani concentrated for a moment on the scent of the roses and morning glories that were tangled together on the wrought-iron fence, on the chipped, worn Spanish tiles of the old fountain. Their familiarity and charm helped soothe her taut nerves.

“Tell me about Pembroke Springs,” he said, conversational.

“Zeke…”

He plucked a tiny, wilted pink rose blossom and held it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Again the incongruities of the man struck her. “Is there much to bottling water?” he asked.

She reined in her frustration and impatience. Perhaps to know more about him-to earn his trust-she needed to let him know more about her. So she said, “It all depends.”

“On what?”

“First of all, we’re not as precise in this country as we could be about the distinction between mineral water and springwater. Whether a bottled water is called ‘mineral water’ or ‘springwater’ is often just a marketing decision as to which would sell better. Still, there are generally recognized criteria that distinguish mineral water. They have to do with what we call TDS-total dissolved solvents per liter.”

“Sounds like something you’d use to wash a car.” Zeke rested one foot on the opposite knee; he looked relaxed and at least marginally interested.

“TDS are what’s left after a liter of water has evaporated. What solvents are present is determined by the rock strata where the springs are located. The water picks up minerals from the rocks it’s filtered through. It’s really quite logical.”

“Examples?”

Dani eyed him, and she could easily imagine him off to slay dragons and rescue fair damsels. He was an intense and capable man. Before he acted, he would want to know everything. And people would tell him, just as she was. Her one consolation was that she wasn’t really telling him about herself. And yet she wanted to. That scared her.

“Limestone adds calcium,” she told him, “dolomite adds magnesium, igneous rocks add sodium. All kinds of dissolved minerals can be present in any particular water. It’s the combination and level of these various minerals that determine the taste, quality and possible therapeutic benefits of any given water. Saratoga’s lucky in that regard. I’m not a geologist, but it’s believed that this entire region-from Lake George south to Albany-was once under an ocean. Salt water was trapped in limestone, dolomite and sandstone and then sealed underground by shale, which is critical because shale’s impervious to water. So any surface water couldn’t contaminate the water trapped by the shale.”

“Aha,” Zeke said.

She smiled. “Am I getting carried away?”

“No. I’m beginning to get a picture of why you can charge what you charge for a glass of water. So if this fancy water’s trapped underground, how did anybody find out about it?”

“Fault lines in the shale. They allowed water to escape in aboveground springs and geysers. The Mohawk knew about the springs around here for centuries-they considered them sacred for their curative powers. The properties of the different springs vary widely. Some are alkaline, some saline, some mild, some strong. Different springs were used to treat different ailments, everything from gout and constipation to heart disease.”

Zeke pulled his foot off his knee and stretched out both legs, his feet on the brick walk. “And I always thought water was water.”

“It is and it isn’t.”

He tossed his rose blossom into the fountain, where it floated in the clear water. He pointed to it. “Is that springwater?”

“No, it’s just water we use for the fountain. There used to be a fountain that tapped Pembroke Springs directly, but we capped it and dug a borehole directly into the aquifer.”

“That’s not as romantic.”

“It’s more hygienic-there’s less opportunity for surface contaminants to get into the water.”

“What’s your water good for?”

“The soul,” she said and saw Zeke’s eyes narrow for a moment, as if he couldn’t tell whether or not she was serious-a nice switch. “Actually we just guarantee that our water will do no harm. That’s one of the differences between springwater and mineral water. We can’t make any therapeutic claims for springwater. But we rarely do for mineral water, either.”

Zeke leaned back, looking relaxed yet alert. An intriguing combination.

“End of lecture,” she said, figuring he’d had enough.

But he asked, “What about carbonation?”

“What about how your brother got that blackmail note and why you’re here?” she snapped back.

“You can’t stop a lecture midstream.” His lips twitched, and he almost smiled. “No pun intended.”

So she explained about carbonation. “Water-whether spring or mineral-can be still or carbonated. Still water is just that-flat. Most of the bottled water sold in Europe is still. I didn’t know that until I got into this business. Naturally carbonated water, which Pembroke Springs is, means that as the water comes from the ground it has enough carbon dioxide already in it to make it bubbly-or effervescent or sparkling, which all mean the same thing. We draw off the carbonic gas and reinject it during the bottling process to maintain quality control. If the bottle doesn’t say ‘naturally carbonated,’ that means ordinary carbon dioxide has been added. Frankly, I think it’s the quality of the water that matters most.”

“Must be a tough business,” Zeke said.

“It’s intensely competitive. Pembroke Springs is tiny in comparison to the big guns. Brand awareness, marketing costs, distribution costs-they all mount up and make it difficult for the little guy to compete. In New York State, water’s the most highly regulated beverage product. We try to use those regulations to our advantage by not just meeting them, but exceeding them. We do microbiological and radiological testing, we test color, turbidity, odor. We test for inorganics-lead, mercury, cyanide and such-and organics, like pesticides and herbicides. Any contaminant or unacceptable level of anything can kill a water’s reputation. We’re well aware people can just turn on the faucet.”

Zeke looked around at the pretty Victorian pavilion and the pine-shaded grounds. “This place is so different from when Joe and I camped here.” A curious softness, a melancholy tone, had crept into his voice, and Dani wondered if he didn’t have his own dreams of what might have been. “Everything was so overgrown and shabby then-the bottling plant was just a collapsing, empty building. You care about this place, don’t you?”

Her mouth had gone dry, and her heartbeat had quickened. “Yes, I do. As far as I’m concerned, making a profit and caring for the land go hand in hand in this business. If I don’t make money, no one gets to drink what I consider one of the best mineral waters in the world. If I’m too greedy, I squander a natural resource, the springs dry up and there’s nothing left for future generations. That’s what happened to a lot of springs around here in the late nineteenth century, until the state finally stepped in.”

“And you did it all without help from your mother’s family?”

“In spite of them might be more accurate. My grandfather couldn’t see anyone but ‘lunatic Greenwich Village types’ wanting to buy mineral water. That was before Perrier made its big push in the American market and mineral water became the rage. Which isn’t to say I didn’t have help.”

“Mattie?”

“And Nick.” She felt a stab of guilt; she had to make things right with them somehow. “We worked out a deal when he needed money and I needed collateral. I gave him what I could up front, and he waited for the rest. When I could swing it, I bought the entire property from him. I admit I’ve had days when I wished I hadn’t flown off the handle and disinherited myself. My Chandler trust could have come in handy on a number of occasions. But I’m doing okay. The Pembroke’s a risk, but not as big a risk as some people would like to think.”