Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [26]
“Seems like the name of your ranch has all sorts of hidden meanings.”
“No kidding,” she said.
The hint of sharpness in her voice caused me to glance at her in surprise, but she kept walking and didn’t elaborate.
Sam, I thought, what have you gotten yourself into?
“Let’s stop here for a moment,” she said when we reached a weathered wooden bench in front of a large metal building. A small security light bathed the area in a stark white glow. “I’m feeling a little sick.”
I sat down next to her. “Want me to go get the Jeep?”
“No, it’s not that much farther. It’s just that I seem to be getting my morning sickness at night. Lucky for me, I’m on day shift for the next three months.”
We sat silently for a moment, uncomfortable with the mention of her pregnancy. The fact that I was married not only to her future father-in-law, but also her boss caused an awkwardness between us that was hard to breach.
“So, what building is this?” I asked, turning to look.
“It’s part of the winery. We store barrels of fermenting wine here. My uncle Chase has his office here.” She put a fist up to her mouth, her face grayish-green in the harsh light.
“Should I go get Sam?”
She swallowed hard, and her coloring came back. “No, it’s just a spell. Really, I don’t do this very often. I’ve found a good doctor, and he says I shouldn’t have any problems, that this feeling sick is perfectly normal and should pass in another month. I’m going to be able to work until the baby’s born.” She turned pink, which looked a whole lot better than green. “I’ll tell the chief that myself. I’m not trying to, like, pull strings or anything. I’ve made an appointment with him next week to talk about my schedule.”
I touched her hand. “Bliss, you don’t have to explain anything to me. What happens between you and Gabe on a professional level is not my business. Gabe is adamant about keeping his personal and work life separate.”
“I guess Sam and I have screwed that up, haven’t we?”
I gave her an encouraging smile. “I doubt it’s the first time this has happened in a family and I also doubt it’ll be the last.”
Not answering, she looked over at the dark vineyards. In the cool darkness, we watched a partial moon rise over the vineyards, the Santa Lucia mountains craggy and black behind them. The heavy scent of ripe grapes sugared the air, giving it a flavor you could almost taste. In the distance, a horse whinnied, the sound causing a nervous echo from another horse, then another and another. Like cattle, horses were such group animals. When one of them was afraid or agitated, it passed through the herd like fire in parched rye grass.
“The hills remind me of a quilt pattern called Moon Over Mountain,” I said, just to break the uneasy silence. “It’s a simple one, with clean lines and not a lot of pieces. But it doesn’t really capture the beauty of mountains. Mountains have such wonderful three-dimensional peaks and valleys that are impossible to capture in a flat pattern. Like the difference between a cartoon character and a real person. We get the bare essence, but nothing else.”
“I’m scared, Benni,” she whispered so softly I wasn’t sure I heard her right. She didn’t look over at me, but continued to stare at the dark hills.
I reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know.” What else could I say to her at this moment? Take heart? Things will work out? You’re stronger than you realize? I know. The only thing we can truly tell another person who is afraid or in pain. I know the unknown is terrifying. I know what fear is. I know what pain feels like. I know.
What I didn’t realize until much later