Caught Bread Handed (25 page)

I trusted Carlos. He managed to get us back to the ship in once piece and without a scratch on the rental car, but my fingers were numb for two days after our adventure from clutching the armrest.

Carlos slid into the driver's seat and looked at me. “Shall we go?”

“My seat belt is buckled—tight.”

He laughed. “
Sí,
okay, we go then.” With that he reeved the engine and did a U-turn.

“Where are we going?”

“You will see. I think you will like this surprise.”

We cruised up Main Street toward the surrounding hills. Within a few minutes of downtown, the streets rose to gorgeously wooded hills. Carlos speed past Southern Oregon University as the first stars began to make an appearance in the night sky.

“The stars have come out for you,” he whispered.

I sat back and watched as we climbed a winding road. One of Ashland's premier vineyards was on my right. Its long rows of grapes sat in a silent winter's hibernation. We were headed toward the organic farmland surrounding the city.

After a few minutes, Carlos clicked on his turn signal and steered the car down a gravel road. I knew exactly where we were—Jose Ortega's winery.

“You're taking me to Uva?” I asked.

Carlos took his eyes off the road and looked at me. “You will see.”

We drove down the bumpy road. It had wooden fences with electric wire on either side. I couldn't see the grape fields in the dark, but I knew that they stretched for acres in each direction. The gravel road led to an old red barn that Jose had converted into a tasting room. Behind the barn was a large house with an expansive deck that had a view of the vineyards and Mount Ashland. Jose and his family lived and worked on the property. Farther out in the fields were workers' quarters that housed migrant workers during harvest.

Carlos pulled up in front of the house and stopped the car. “We are here.”

“We're going to Jose's?”

He held up one finger. “Wait, you will see.”

I waited for Carlos to walk around the front of the car and open my door for me. He held out his hand. “This way,
mi querida.
”

My foot slipped on the gravel. Carlos caught me around the waist and steadied me. I was glad I had opted for flats.

He escorted me toward the house. It was lit from the inside with a warm glow. I could hear the sound of happy chatter between Jose's children.

“Are we having dinner with Jose's family?” I asked.

Carlos shook his head and laughed. “You will see. Come this way.” He ushered me past the front door and around to the back porch.

My breath caught as I took in the sight. Torches lined the porch. Their amber flames danced against the black sky. A two-person table draped with a white tablecloth had been placed at the far end of the porch next to a built-in brick oven.

Carlos led me toward the table.

Heat and the scent of baking flatbread radiated from the oven. Maybe I wouldn't need my coat after all.

“Sit,” Carlos said as he held out the chair closest to the brick oven for me.

I took a seat. Votive candles in a large glass Mason jars flickered. There were two place settings, a bottle of red wine, and two wine glasses.

Carlos sat across from me and poured the wine. “What do you think?”

“It's beautiful. But how did you do this? How did you talk Jose into using his house?”

He swirled the wine and stuck his nose halfway into the glass. “It is nothing. I told Jose I wanted to give you a romantic dinner. He said please let him cook for us. He and his wife are making you the most delicious, authentic Mexican dinner under the stars.”

I had to give Carlos serious credit when it came to romance. He certainly knew how to sweep me off my feet.

The sound of an orchestra from speakers strategically placed on both corners of the house made me begin to sway. It was either that, the wine, or Carlos's dreamy stare. Our eyes met across the table. He reached for my hair and began to caress it. “Juliet, you are so beautiful tonight.”

I didn't trust myself to respond. Fortunately, I was saved by Jose and his wife. They opened the sliding glass doors from their dining room to the porch and came outside with plates of food in their arms. The scent of spicy meat and grilled vegetables made my mouth water.

“Good evening, Juliet,” Jose greeted me with a broad smile. “You remember my wife? We are so happy to have you join us for dinner tonight.”

“Thank you.” I returned his smile and waved a greeting to his wife. “Your place is beautiful and everything smells so amazing.”

They placed the food in front of us. Jose explained each dish and gave us a quick overview of the recipe's origin. No wonder he and Carlos hit it off so well. His wife removed wood-fired flatbread from the brick oven and showed us how fill it and roll it so that it could be eaten by hand.

Carlos stood and kissed them both on each cheek before they returned inside. “Thank you, my friends. Thank you so much.”

Jose stoked the fire and refilled our wineglasses. “Enjoy! We will leave you to the stars.”

I looked up. The sky was a kaleidoscope of brilliant white stars that flickered in rhythm with the flames on the torches and the votive candles. “I can't believe you arranged all of this,” I said to Carlos.

He studied me. “I do this and so much more for you. I wanted to show you how much I love you before I must return to the ship tomorrow.”

My throat tightened as he said those words. “Let's not talk about tomorrow. Let's enjoy tonight. The food looks incredible.”

Carlos served me a scoop of grilled vegetables and seared beef. Jose and his wife had prepared five salsas to pair with our dinner. There was a traditional red salsa, a green—or verde as Carlos would say—salsa made from diced green chilies and cilantro, a fresh Pico de Gallo, a mango salsa, and one that was made from four different smoking-hot peppers.

“Go easy on that one, Julieta,” Carlos warned. “It has real heat.” He tasted it with his pinky and puffed out his cheeks. “Very good, but very hot.”

I skipped the hot salsa and went for the red and green salsa and some additional Pico de Gallo. The flatbread was warm and crispy on the outside. It was the perfect vehicle for the Mexican meat and veggies. I scooped myself a helping of beans and a side of cilantro rice.

Carlos watched me as I ate. “You like it, no?”

“I love it.”

A look of relief washed over his face. We finished our glasses of wine. He refilled my glass. I was starting to feel slightly dizzy. I knew it wasn't just due to the wine. Carlos hadn't taken his eyes off me all night. The evening felt surreal. I was having dinner under a canopy of winter stars with my husband on an organic winery in Ashland.

Carlos leaned closer. “Are you warm enough?”

I was. The bricks were like a heater against my back. “I'm good.”

“Julieta, will you please consider coming back with me? I promise you there will never be secrets between us again. I am yours,
mi querida.
Only yours.”

I swallowed hard, trying to clear the growing lump in my throat. We'd been through this before. Nothing had changed. I believed Carlos. I knew he was being sincere, but I knew that I couldn't leave Ashland either.

“It's not that I don't want to. I just can't. Not right now.”

Carlos tried to keep his face neutral but I saw a sadness in his dark eyes as he smiled and said, “I know. It is okay. For now.”

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

I tried to ignore the fact that we only had a few hours left together. We finished our dinner and the bottle of wine. Jose and his wife brought out dessert and another bottle of wine. The temperature dropped as even more stars erupted to life above us.

It was getting late and I was slightly tipsy. Carlos wrapped my coat around my shoulders. “You stay by the fire. I will help with the cleanup.”

I didn't bother trying to protest. I knew that Carlos wouldn't let me help.

He stacked our empty plates and walked to the sliding doors. I scooted closer to the fireplace. I heard Carlos praising Jose and his wife inside and smiled to myself. How was I so lucky to have a man like Carlos who pampered me like this?

Jose came outside. “How was your dinner, Juliet?” He picked up the empty bottle of wine.

“It was incredible, Jose. Really incredible. Thank you so much. The food was amazing and the setting is like something out of a movie. Your vineyard is gorgeous.”

I expected him to laugh at my gushing praise, but instead a shadow passed across his face.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

Jose shook his head. “No. It's me. I'm sorry.”

“It's you? Jose, is something wrong?”

He looked behind me to the kitchen where I could hear the sound of clinking plates and Carlos charming Jose's wife. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Please.” I motioned to the chair.

Jose sat. His shoulders sagged. “I don't think I'm going to be able to keep the vineyard and farm.”

“What?” I sat up in my chair. “Why? You've put so much work into it.”

He looked dejected. “I know. Thirty years. I started when your parents opened Torte. If it weren't for them I might still be working the fields. They made it their mission to get everyone in town to buy my wine. I owe your mom a lot.”

“You don't owe her anything, Jose. You know that. She loves doing business with you.”

He smiled. “Your mother is one of a kind.”

“She is,” I agreed. “Why are you thinking of selling? I don't understand.”

“The recession hit hard. It hit everyone in Ashland hard. I don't have to tell you that, I'm sure.”

“Yeah. Torte took a pretty big hit.”

Jose nodded. “Many businesses stopped ordering from me. They went with cheap wines from bargain outlets. The kind with twist tops.”

“Right.” That was true on the cruise ship too. Sometimes cost trumped using the freshest or most locally sourced products. “Haven't things started to turn around and pick up though?”

“They have, but the weather hasn't. This drought has been terrible for my crops. I'm spending three to four times as much as I had to in the past for water. I can't keep up.”

“Jose, I'm so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Me too. I got an offer that I couldn't refuse. We talked it over this weekend. We're going to sell.”

My heart broke for Jose. I knew how much work went into building a family business. “I guess it's good that you got an offer.”

“It's a good offer, I think. You know Mathew the real estate developer?”

“Mathew as in Mindy's business partner at ShakesBurgers?”

He nodded. “I had a few offers, but Mathew's is the highest. He wants to develop this land. He has plans to build a new gated community of luxury homes.”

“You mean he's going to build out here?”

Jose twisted a wine cork in his hands. “I know it's terrible. I don't want to see my vineyard turned into homes, but I don't know that I have another choice. No one is interested in maintaining the grapes—no one who can afford it. It's too much work. It's too much water. You know what's happening in California. The water restrictions are hurting family farms and vineyards. It's starting here too. Every offer that I've had is to develop the land. At least Mathew has experience in real estate development. He wants to call the subdivision Farm Acres.”

I felt sick to my stomach. That must have been what Richard Lord meant when he said Mom and I needed to find a new wine vendor.

“I'm sorry to tell you this, Juliet. I didn't mean to ruin your romantic night. Carlos was so excited to do this for you. He is a good guy. When you said such nice things about the vineyard it made me sad.”

“It's okay. You didn't ruin my night.”

Jose stood. “I will let you enjoy the fire and the stars.”

I pulled my coat tighter over my shoulders and scooted my chair closer to the fire. It had started to die down. Smoke lingered in the air. The embers glowed in a final flush of red. Soon they'd be nothing more than a distant memory. Much like this night.

I couldn't believe that Jose was selling, and to Mathew.

To Mathew?

Not caring about the cold, I threw off my coat. Mathew. What had the Professor said at Torte? Something about not letting my eyes deceive me. What if my first instinct had been right all along? What if I
had
walked in on Mathew right after he killed Mindy?

He'd told me that the business was broke, but he was offering to buy Jose out. Something didn't add up. Then I thought about my conversation with Alan. Alan had implied that Mathew didn't know anything about the deal he had made with Mindy. What if Mindy was planning to cut Mathew loose from the business? That could give him a very clear motive for murder—money.

I reached for my purse and pulled out my phone. Checking to make sure that Carlos was still in the kitchen, I hit Thomas's number. It rang four times. On the fifth ring his voice mail came on. “Thomas, it's Jules. I think you or the Professor should call Jose Ortega. I'm out here now and he told me that Mathew is buying his vineyard.
All
of his land. I'm worried that it could be connected to Mindy's murder.”

As I hung up, Carlos and Jose came back outside with a paper plate wrapped in foil. “For you.” Jose handed me the plate. “You must take this to your mother.”

“She'll love it, thanks.”

Carlos kissed Jose on the cheek. “And you, my friend, you must come on the ship and I will cook for you and your wife.”

Had Jose told Carlos that he was planning to sell Uva?

Carlos helped me back into my coat. There was a sting in the air. I wasn't sure if it was from the dropping temperature or the news that Jose was selling this beautiful land.