Laura Drake - Twice in a Blue Moon

A shudder rattled through her so hard her bones shook. She took a breath, then headed in the direction she’d seen her “manager” take.

She found him fiddling with the thermostat on the wall beside the tasting-room door.

“It’s not coming on.” He frowned at the dial as if maybe he’d merely forgotten how it worked.

Thank God she’d gotten the business checkbook from the accountant before she left LA. “Who do you call when this happens?”

“Never happened before.” He smacked his lips. “I’ll be right back. I need...” He pulled the metal door open, and dim lights came on in the barrel room—a glass-walled display room of oaken barrels of product. He went deeper, into the darkened tasting room, turned the corner and disappeared.

Indigo followed. She could see the sun through the windows out front, but the shaded porch left the tasting room in shadows. What wasn’t hard to see was the gray-on-black form lifting a bottle to his lips. Anger fired in her chest and shot through her so fast that white sparks drifted across her vision. She put her hands on her hips. “We have an emergency here. The entire year’s stock could be destroyed, and you’re drinking? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

The shadow lowered his arm. “Well, I was just gettin’ some fortification, then I was going to—”

“You’re fired.” She might not have the experience to make good decisions, but at least they wouldn’t be clouded by alcohol. She’d seen enough red-veined noses and yellowed eyes to recognize chronic alcoholism when she saw it. “Get your stuff and clear off.” She strode past what she knew to be the long burled-wood bar, with racks of wine behind, to the counter with a cash register next to the door.

“You can’t do that, missy. I been here for a long time.” She heard the slosh of a bottle being lifted.

“Bullshit. I just did.” Where was the phone book? She dug around under the counter. At least the light was better up here. Her intestines gurgled a warning, but she didn’t have time to worry about that now. “Get your stuff and get off this property. Aha.” She pulled out the thin Widow’s Grove phone book. “On second thought, wait right there for a minute. I’m following you out. I want to be sure some of the product is left when you’re gone.”

Once she’d looked up an air-conditioning company, called and extracted a promise that someone would be out right away, she walked to where Delaney stood, grumbling under his breath. “Let’s go.” She led the way into the warehouse and to the back door.

Barney stood when they walked up.

“What kinda dog is that?” Delaney slurred.

Barney sniffed the man’s pants leg then, lip curling, backed up.

“One with good taste.” She held the door and her breath when Delaney brushed by her.

“You won’t get away with this, lady. I’m going to the EDD.”

“You do that. Please. And I’m only guessing here, but I’ll bet when I contact the tasting room staff, they’ll have plenty they’ll want to say to the labor board themselves.” When Barney scooted out behind her, she let the door fall closed.

Delaney walked to the loading zone and turned to go up the hill.

“Hey, where are you going?” She and Barney jogged to catch up.

“To get my stuff. I moved into the cabin.” He huffed, trudging up the hill.

“Bob’s place?” Outrage fisted her hands as she imagined the cozy little log cabin defiled by this drunken slob. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

“It was sitting empty.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “And the bed down there was lumpy.” The cabin came into view as they crested the hill. The grapevines marched right up to the edge of the dusty yard, and the setting sun washed the old log walls golden.

She half expected to see Bob and Harry sitting in the wooden chairs, feet up on the railing, sipping merlot.

But they weren’t. Indigo’s chest squeezed her heart in a painful spasm of nostalgia.

Delaney went on grumbling about the slights he’d borne in his life as they stepped inside.

“Oh, no.” The air went out of her in a whoosh. The bear-tapestry-upholstered couch was sagging and stained. The Navajo rug was pocked with cinder-blackened holes, some possibly as recent as the foot-high ashes that spilled out of the huge fireplace.

Bottles, cups and filthy dishes occupied the low coffee table and graced every flat surface. The air was close and stale, smelling of garbage. Barney snapped at a buzzing fly.

All the pain she’d held inside since Harry’s death gathered, filling every space in her body, pushing, pushing. Every slight, every abuse, every loss started to boil. Her skin tightened in an attempt to contain it, but the pressure built in her soft parts—in her gut, behind her eyes.

She clapped her hands over her ears as the pressure exploded from her in a howl of pain. “Getout-getout-getout. Get out before I kill you!”

Delaney flinched, his mouth open.

Barnabas threw his head back and howled, raising the hair on her arms.

Delaney scrambled, snatching clothes from the furniture, stumbling between the bathroom and the bedroom.

She couldn’t watch. Couldn’t bear seeing the rest of the house just yet. Sinking to her knees, she gathered Barney in her arms, but the dog wouldn’t be consoled. His howls echoed through the large two-story room as if he, too, were pouring out his grief. She rocked him in shaking arms, whispering to him in an attempt to calm them both.

Delaney shuffled back and forth, loaded down with boxes, clothes hanging out of them. She wasn’t letting go of Barney to look through them. Knowing firsthand how demeaning that was, she couldn’t do it to another human being, even someone as useless as this manager.

Besides, everything precious had already been taken.

CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Epilogue Extract Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом. Copyright Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

FROMTHEPORCH, Indigo watched the ex-manager’s rattletrap truck pull out onto the road below. “Well, it’s up to you and me now, Barn.”

The dog lifted his mournful face.

“Cheer up, bud. We may suck at making decisions, but we can’t do worse than that guy.”