Love's Harvest (A Salmon Run Novel Book 1) Read online

  “Goodness. I’m not even dressed. I’ll need a few minutes to get myself put together, but then I’d be more than happy to attend your party.”

  “Oh, Señora Reynolds. Is that your piano?” Felicia started to enter the house, heading toward the bulky concert grand piano in the living room, next to the large bay window.

  Eduardo followed her.

  “You are so stupid. Who else’s piano would it be?”

  “I am not stupid. You’re stupid.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too.”

  Julia took in the playful competition between the two siblings. “Children, please. I am more than happy to let you sit at my piano and play. But, first you must stop arguing and calling each other names.”

  Felicia smiled radiantly. “You’d let me play your piano? And Eduardo too?”

  Eduardo was obviously ready to voice some kind of snarky comeback but stopped short.

  Julia was anything but angry with the children. In fact, she found their banter utterly charming. But, she wasn’t going to let them know that. At least not yet. “Tell you what, if you do it softly and with very quiet fingers, you may sit and play. I’ll get ready as quickly as I can.”

  “Gracias, Señora Reynolds,” they both chimed in simultaneously.

  “And remember no more arguing!” Julia smiled as she made her way to her clothes closet.

  Standing in front of her wardrobe, she wasn’t sure what to wear. She was still in mourning, yet it was a party after all. It was a lovely summer’s evening, but it would soon turn cool once the sun made its way behind the Olympics. She chose a turquoise sundress, some strappy sandals, and a white cardigan with dainty embroidered flowers festooned around the neck and hem. She brushed her teeth, painted on a coral-colored lipstick, and put just enough mousse in her hair to allow it to dry in soft curls. A swift squirt of perfume and she was ready.

  As she strode back into the living room, Julia noticed Eduardo was trying to teach Felicia Chopsticks, even though it was apparent he needed a lesson as much as his sister.

  “Oh, Señora. You look so beautiful!” Felicia appeared more surprised at Julia’s transformation than she liked. Eduardo merely turned red.

  “Gracias, Felicia. Eduardo, do you need some help teaching your sister Chopsticks? I’d be more than happy to assist.”

  “Si, Señora. She is so stu—“

  This time, Julia interrupted the boy before he finished. “All right, then. Felicia, why don’t you sit on my lap and put your hands on my hands? Eduardo will copy what you and I play. Does that work for you, Eduardo?”

  Both children nodded their heads, and the three of them began a very slow and repetitious litany which over time sounded more and more like Chopsticks and less like nonsense. And the longer they played, the more they giggled, excited by their newfound skill. They were about ready to begin what felt like the three hundred and forty second verse when they were stopped by a knock at the open door. All three turned their heads.

  “Uncle Diego. We are playing Chopsticks. See?” Felicia could not contain her joy.

  “Si. And I taught her,” Eduardo said.

  “Did not.”

  “Did so.”

  “Na, ah!”

  “Ah, ha!”

  “Stop, please! You’re giving me a headache!” Diego turned his attention toward Julia who now stood next to the children. He immediately took off his straw hat. “Please forgive us, Señora. My sister asked these two troublemakers to invite you to the celebration, not give them a piano lesson.”

  The dark scowl on his face forced the children to stare down at their fingers which hovered stiffly over the keyboard. Diego winked at Julia as the side of his mouth curled up into a half smile. The children then turned their faces toward him, and Diego’s own turned once again to stone. Eduardo was the first to speak.

  “It’s not Felicia’s fault, Uncle. I wanted to teach her Chopsticks, so I am the one to blame.” For all the bickering the two managed between them, Eduardo always stood up for his sister. Even when she was the one at fault.

  Felicia started to cry.

  Julia could not remain silent any longer. “Actually, it’s my fault. I invited them to play the piano while I finished getting ready. Then we started playing Chopsticks, and one thing led to another, and . . . and . . . well, I guess we were having too much fun. The time simply slipped away from us.” Julia didn’t know whether to smile or to look serious.

  Diego, in the meantime, picked up Felicia and held her in his arms. “It’s all right, little one. Señora Reynolds has confessed. But I think we should forgive her for now, don’t you?”

  Eduardo ran to Diego and threw his arms around his legs. “We were making music, Uncle. Like you and the Señora. And like Señor Robert used to with his big guitar.” Diego put his free arm on the back of Eduardo’s shoulder. Felicia started to giggle and pointed to the instrument in the corner of the room.

  “That’s not a big guitar, silly,” piped in Felicia. “Señor Robert said it was his Jell-O.”

  Diego and Julia smiled.

  “You’re both wrong. It’s called a cello,” said Diego. “And, Eduardo, you’re right. It is like a big guitar, except played with a long stick-like thing called a bow.”

  Julia was impressed her field manager would know so much about the instrument. There obviously was more to Diego than his position at the winery made it seem. It made her wonder.

  “And the two words sound nearly identical. Isn’t that right, Felicia?”

  “Si, Uncle Diego. Señor Robert always liked to tease me. I am positive he told me Jell-O.”

  Suddenly the room became quiet as Felicia continued. “I will miss Señor Robert. He was very funny.”

  “Yes, he was, Felicia. He’ll be missed by all of us for a very long time.” Diego put his man-sized sun-kissed hand on the back of Felicia’s head and held her close.

  The children’s visit had momentarily allowed Julia to escape her sorrow, but the reality of her loss threatened to flood her heart once again. Yet rather than crumble, Julia chose instead to gather her strength and determination. The time for weeping was over. Now, it was time to dance. “Okay children, I believe we have a party to attend, sí?”

  Felicia wiggled out of Diego’s arms and ran to take Julia’s hand. Not to be outdone, Eduardo took the other. The children led their new friend toward the front door.

  Diego stepped in front to stop them. He placed his hands on either side of Julia’s shoulders and peered straight into her eyes.

  “Are you sure you are ready for this, Señora?”

  “Please. Call me Julia. And yes, I’m sure I’m ready.”

  “All right then, Julia.” He smiled.

  Julia was aware of Diego following close behind her and the children as they strode down the winding lane toward the compound. She heard the singing and laughter of the itinerant workers. The music had already begun. The aroma of fresh tamales and beer wafted across her senses. And in that moment, Julia felt more alive than she had in a very long time.

  ~ ~ ~

  Even though Julia was unfamiliar with many of the people who worked for the winery, she’d no idea until now how deeply their loyalty ran. Dozens of children played soccer on the trampled down grass next to the housing provided by the winery for its workers and their families. They ranged in age from tiny toddlers to teenagers, all playing together in the same game. Many of the men sat in front of the musicians, drinking beer and telling stories. Some still set up tables and chairs, obviously expecting others to arrive. And still more helped cook the food and decorate the premises.

  Eduardo and Felicia immediately ran off to play soccer with their fellow immigrant friends. Diego paused next to Julia and instructed the children to come get something to eat when called
. She detected the smell of his aftershave and noted how it was different from Robert’s. Her husband’s had been woodsy, the odor of musk, whereas Diego’s, if she wasn’t mistaken, was closer to Ralph Lauren’s Polo—a classic, brisk, almost masculine scent. The intimacy of the thought made her blush. She glanced down at her feet and then back up again.

  Julia studied Diego as best she could without him noticing. He was a hair shorter than Robert and not nearly as stocky, yet still a few inches taller than herself. Like most of the field workers, his hair was dark-brown, his eyes nearly black, a far cry from Robert’s light auburn hair and blue eyes.

  For a man who worked outdoors, Diego’s skin color was remarkably light. True, some evidence of the sun’s burning rays splattered across the tops of his cheeks and at the end of his nose. And his hands were as brown as his boots. But something about him seemed oddly amiss. As if he more accurately belonged behind a desk or in an office building—not all day in an orchard weathering the elements.

  “Are you all right, Señora—disculpe, excuse me, I mean Julia? You seem to be in another world.”

  “Oh, yes. Sorry. It’s only that this is all such a new experience for me. In fact, I’m embarrassed I haven’t connected more with the workers before today. Of course, I know Mariela and Rafael, and Felicia and Eduardo. But, I hardly know you or many of the others.”

  Diego’s face softened. It was uncanny. His smile was so much like Robert’s, and the way he studied her was not unlike the way Robert used to, as if his kind eyes could see into the dark corners of her heart. She heard herself quietly sigh.

  “Perhaps we can begin to change some of that tonight, Julia. In the meantime, let me help you get something to eat. Mariela is the best cook in the entire county.”

  Diego laughed, and she laughed with him. He then placed his calloused hand on the small of her back and gently led her toward the source of the pervading aromas. They were silent as they ambled toward the booth where Mariela and the other women steamed tamales, stirred buckets of frijoles, and filled and refilled bowls of chips and salsa in a steady stream of activity.

  Rafael was the first to notice Julia’s presence. “Señora Reynolds. Thank you so much for coming. Mariela, look who’s here.”

  Mariela turned, sweat beading across her brow. With a long pair of tongs in her hand she greeted Julia as if she were her long-lost sister.

  “Aye! Dios mio! It is you! I sent the children to get you an hour ago, and I haven’t seen them since. I figured they’d once again ignored me, as usual.” She grinned and leaned in toward Julia, giving her a quick hug.

  Mariela immediately turned around and went back to her station so as not to scorch the beans or over-steam the tamales. With a raised voice, she continued, “I wanted to give Robert a party. He always loved my cooking and said as much. And besides, all of us who work for you and Robert wanted to show our appreciation for everything you’ve both done for us over the years.”

  “Oh, Mariela. It’s you I should thank. If it hadn’t been for Diego and your family, I’m not sure what I’d have done.” Julia found herself yelling over the music. The accordions, acoustic and electric guitars, and drums of all kinds were alive with the Latin rhythms of the musicians’ culture.

  People sang robustly the songs they had known from their youth, passing them down to their children as if these tunes were part and parcel of a Great Transmission—one filled with pride of history, culture, tradition, and hope for the future. She envied the way these simple people made music with such joy and abandon. As if they were mandated to bring as much life force into their music as they could muster. She was a fine musician in her own right, but she’d never experienced this kind of carefree exuberance.

  Julia made her way toward one of the nearby decorated picnic tables. As soon as she sat down, Eduardo and Felicia plopped down beside her. Felicia eyed Julia’s steaming hot plate of food. “What do you have there, Señora? It looks good.”

  “What do you think it is, dummy?” Eduardo couldn’t help himself.

  Again Felicia teared up. Julia wanted to say something, but because the children were no longer in her home, she hesitated.

  “I know what it is. You’re the dummy!” Felicia spit out. “Those are Mama’s tamales. I know because I helped make them yesterday, no thanks to you—dummy!”

  At that moment Diego showed up with his plate of food. “Stop, you two. ¡Basta! Go and get your food. NOW! And no more silly arguing!”

  Felicia gladly ran to her mother’s booth, drying her eyes on the back of her fist. Before Eduardo made his escape, Diego caught his arm and pulled the boy around to face him.

  Julia gazed down at her food and pretended not to hear.

  “Eduardo, you’re older than your sister. I expect more from you. I expect you to treat her with the same respect all men should treat women. When you make Felicia cry, you make your mama cry. And no man should make his mama cry. Entendes?”

  “Si, Uncle Diego! I understand,” answered Eduardo.

  “Bueno, poco hombre!” Diego gave Eduardo a quick hug before the child ran off to fill his own plate.

  Diego set down his plate and climbed into the picnic seat next to her. Taking off his straw hat, Diego placed it on the bench on the other side of his hip, and ran his hands through his hair. He closed his eyes, mumbled a short prayer, crossed himself, and let out a chuckle.

  “Sometimes I think those children are purposely trying to drive me mad.”

  “Actually, I think you’re very good with them. Felicia is obviously crazy about you, and Eduardo looks up to you as if you were a superhero. You know, I can remember squabbling with my sister when we were little. I was a few years older than her, and she used to follow me around incessantly. Hang out with me when my friends came over or pester me whenever I had to sit at the piano and practice. Now, Alicia and I are the best of friends. Of course, it took nearly twenty years to get to this point, but who’s counting!”

  ~ ~ ~

  From her makeshift stove, Mariela saw her younger brother and Julia talking and laughing with one another as if sharing private secrets. She was happy to see the Señora enjoying herself after a very difficult year, but the shared intimacy concerned her. Her brother didn’t have the best history when it came to women.

  Since his breakup six years ago from Paulina, his fiancée from Mexico, he hadn’t been seen dating another woman, let alone speaking to one. Mariela knew he hungered for affection. She hoped his attention to Julia wasn’t out of loneliness or some outlandish hope that she’d find interest in him. Unless, of course, if she was lonely as well.

  Mariela knew for a fact a relationship built upon loneliness rarely lasted longer than getting one’s heart broke. Diego was still raw. There was no denying that. And so was Julia, for that matter. Perhaps it was simply innocent conversation, Mariela prayed. If not, the two of them were headed for disaster.

  ~ ~ ~

  Diego turned his gaze back to the woman next to him. “You didn’t do too poorly with the children yourself, Señora.”

  “Julia, please.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help but watch as you worked with them at the piano. You have a gift, Julia, a gift of music, but also a gift of teaching. I know. I was a teacher in Mexico before I came here.”

  “You were? But, if you’re a teacher, why are you working here at the vineyard?”

  Diego smiled at her naiveté. “Unfortunately, my credential doesn’t cross the Rio Grande. It’d take too many years and far too much money to attend college in order to become a teacher here in the States. Besides, I enjoy my work at the winery. I love working outdoors and being around my sister and her family. And I especially enjoyed working for Señor Robert. He was a good man, a fair man. And he, too, loved working with his hands in the soil.”

  Julia’s appetite waned. How was she ever go
ing to start this new chapter in her life without Robert? Wherever she looked, whomever she spoke to, reminded her of what she and Robert shared together. Part of her was grateful he was thought of with so much kindness. But another part of her, that part of her growing with each passing hour, wanted desperately to move on. And not only for her but for the winery too.

  “Yes. Robert was a good man and I’ll never forget him. There’s a place in my heart where he’ll always stay. But, now I need to focus on the business of the winery. I must be honest with you, Diego. Financially, we’re at our lowest. I’m afraid if we don’t get at least one good wine out of the next crop, the winery will close. And nothing will make my brother-in-law happier. He wants to be able to redevelop this land and turn it into a golf resort or destination hotel of some kind. Honestly, I can’t let that happen. When I promised Robert the winery would flourish, I promised myself and all of you who work here as well. Much as I love my sister and my dad, and at times even my needy step-mom, everyone here at the winery is my family now.”

  Julia heard herself sob and grabbed for air in giant gulps. She didn’t care. She’d been waiting for this moment—to let it all out no matter who saw or heard her.

  Quickly, Diego put his arms around her.

  “Go ahead, cara. Let it out. Let it all out. No one is looking. Empty yourself out of all your sorrow so all the joy waiting for you can come in. Cry. Go ahead and cry.” He hummed as he rocked her gently back and forth in his arms, as if she were a baby being lullabied to sleep.

  Gradually the tears subsided. Julia could no longer hear herself cry and so turned her attention to the music which now took on a much softer and romantic tone. A young boy with a violin played a melody from one of the many romances made famous in his native Mexico.