More Than a Mission - Caridad Pineiro [35]
He bit back a rather risque comment on how he could earn that lunch.
With a nod, he followed her back to the car, tucked away their purchase and they were off to another stop and then another and another. It took hours to run from one roadside stand to another, sampling the assorted items available for sale. At one small farm that barely looked inhabited, a rough-hewn ramshackle table held a meager sampling of thumb-sized pear-shaped tomatoes. Beside what was left of the tomatoes, a basket contained some money, obviously payment for prior purchases.
Elizabeth perused the tomatoes, selected a few dozen, and deposited some bills into the basket.
“How do you know that’s not too much money?” he asked, and then quickly added, “And how does the farmer know people will pay?”
“Dan, the farmer, he’s a bit shy. But he knows people will pay for what they take. It’s the honor system.”
“The honor system,” he repeated, but unfortunately couldn’t keep the tone of disbelief from his voice.
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “Mr. Rawlings, you’ve clearly seen your share of places where things are…different. In Silvershire, we are simpler. Some things, like honor, still exist.”
With that, she walked back to the car, her bag of tomatoes in hand.
He watched her go, intrigued. Perplexed. From their earlier conversation to this one, from the way everyone they met interacted with her, Elizabeth was clearly well-liked and respected, trusted and, last but not least, honorable.
Aidan forced himself to remember that even amongst thieves honor existed.
Back in the car, Elizabeth advised they would make one more stop before heading to a special place for a quick bite. That last location was a vineyard within sight of the water. “Hector makes a wicked collection of pinots. It has to do with the way the coastal fog covers the grapes in the morning and the way the blackthorn and other wild berry bushes surround the vineyard,” Elizabeth explained as she drove.
“Is this the ever-requested Lionshead wine?” he asked and Elizabeth nodded as she steered down a short winding road lined by brambly bushes—probably the berries Elizabeth had mentioned.
At the end of the road was a stone building, similar in size and construction to Elizabeth’s restaurant—a one-story building made of stone and covered by vines in spots. After they parked the car in the crushed-seashell-covered lot, they walked to the open door of the building.
Inside there were two long counters with some smaller tables and chairs before them—a tasting room from the looks of it, he thought, recalling one Mitch had dragged them to many years earlier during a layover in California’s Napa Valley.
“Hector? Are you open?” Elizabeth called out and walked toward the counters.
A man immediately popped out of the back room. Once he realized it was Elizabeth, a broad smile came to his face. “Mi amiga,” he said, arms opened wide as he strode toward her.
“Como estas, Hector?” She embraced the handsome man. He was maybe in his mid thirties and attractive if you liked the dark swarthy types, he thought and bit back the little pang of jealousy.
Hector shot a glance at him. An unfriendly one confirming to Aidan that maybe the feeling was mutual. “And this is?” Hector asked after releasing Elizabeth and walking to one of the long counters, where he picked up a bottle and opened it, removing first the foil seal at the top and after, the cork.
Elizabeth held her hand out to Aidan. He slipped his hand into hers and sat next to her at the counter as she said, “This is Aidan. My new bartender.”
“Oh,” Hector said, but made no effort to take the introduction beyond that. Instead, he placed a glass before each of them and said, “Try my new vintage.”
Pouring a bit of wine into each glass, he waited for Elizabeth to offer her comments.
Aidan just picked up the wineglass and took a large sip, earning a murderous glare from Hector. Elizabeth on the other hand, held the glass up to the light, then tilted it on