Risking the Vine (Romancing the Vine Book 1) Page 14

  “Damn straight,” Jules quipped. “Come on, Jac. Let’s get a coffee refill. At least we got to read the first clue. Let’s see if we can figure out where it might lead.”

  The ten-minute timeout passed as they tried to reason out the convoluted clue.

  “The noontime sun still casts a shadow to the west.” Jac recited the first clue. “What the hell does that mean? I thought at high noon there weren’t shadows.”

  It had taken Jac throwing out the names of the few buildings she knew of on the property before the words finally made any sense.

  Jules flung up her hands. “Yes!”

  Ten minutes later Marcus handed the clue list back to Jules and wandered away to check on the rest of the players.

  “Damn that Marcus. I bet he laughed the entire time he rewrote the clues for us.” Jules seized Jac’s wrist and dragged her down the steps. “Come on. I know exactly where we’re heading for our first stop.”

  Together they raced toward the gift shop on the opposite end of the parking lot. Jules trotted around the shop. There, they found a coil of plastic tubing tagged as Clue #1. The next clue led them to the picnic pavilion where they picked up a small mechanical device Jules called a pump. On their third stop, they found a mesh bag filled with screws, nuts, and bolts.

  They continued in the same manner for two hours, seeking clues and picking up bits and pieces of one or another unknown piece of equipment. Sweat trickled down Jac’s spine as they stopped to rest at the water station set up under a large oak near the stream bisecting the vineyard. The water cooled her throat as she gulped it down.

  Jules stripped off her sweatshirt and tied the arms around her waist.

  Twice, they’d come across other players racing toward their next clue. They’d paused briefly, comparing notes and checking out the parts they’d all picked up. Unfortunately, their items were completely unlike what the other teams had found, leaving Jules scratching her head. From what they could tell, they’d all be building different pieces of equipment.

  When they found the clue that came with two long wooden poles, Jules cursed Marcus. One clue led them to an oversized tub, which Jules resorted to carrying on her head. The canvas sack grew heavier, digging into Jac’s shoulder and bumping against her hip as they jogged to the next destination.

  Balancing one of the long bars under her arm while Jules carried the other, they scurried into the cask room, where they found a wheel and a large glass jug. Block letters proclaimed this their final clue. They sprawled on the cool cement floor as they tried to decipher the last location they had to find.

  It only took a moment to figure out their final destination was the yard in front of the house. Dropping their burdens, they collapsed onto the ground. The other teams had already arrived and had puzzle pieces spread out on small, square blue tarps.

  While Belinda held the picture of the apparatus they were to build, Sally attempted to attach a red plastic handle to the big clear glass jug, identical to the one Jac and Jules had picked up.

  Jac spread the pieces they’d acquired over the blue tarp, and sat on her heels to study them. It would be a lot easier if she knew what they were to build. Suddenly, not having a picture loomed a larger handicap than finding twice as many clues with ten fewer minutes than the other teams.

  Jules squatted next to her, a frown puckering the skin on her forehead. She shook her head, her blond hair swishing across her shoulder blades. Keeping her voice low and even, she mumbled to herself. “There’s some kind of pattern here but I’m not sure . . .”

  Marcus joined them and checked their inventory against the cheat sheet in his hand. Jules attempted to peek at the paper.

  He lifted his arm over his head and rested his hip against the railing. “At least you remembered to grab everything as you found the clues.” He pointed to Jeff and Steve who jogged awkwardly away from the porch. “They forgot to pick one up and have to go back to find it.”

  Jules dropped to her bottom and drew her knees against her chest. “You want us to slow down and let them catch up?”

  “Nah. The idea was for two people to work together as a team, to communicate. They didn’t do it, and now they’ll have to face the consequences.” He pointed at Jules. “But did I mention that you aren’t actually allowed to help Jac? She’s on her own to figure out what she’s supposed to be constructing.”

  “Wait!” Jac jerked her head up and gawked at Marcus. She wasn’t truly competitive by nature . . . Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted to win this in the worst way. She struggled to keep the whine out of her tone. “Without a picture and without help from my teammate, I’ll never figure out what I’m supposed to be assembling. How is that team building?”

  “I have faith in you, Jac. You’ve been resourceful this entire week.” A confident grin brightened the big guy’s handsome face. “I tell you what, once you figure out what to build, Jules can help.”

  “Marcus, remind me to add a note to your personnel file about being difficult to work with.” Jules dragged a finger over the palm of her hand, as if already writing the note.

  A loud noise drew their attention. Sally cringed as Belinda clapped her hands together and barked instructions. “No, turn it around! It’s upside down.”

  “Jesus, I hope you beat those two,” Marcus muttered. He shoved away from the railing and went over to mediate between the lady lawyers.

  Jac’s knees ached a little as she leaned forward to move pieces around the tarp, hoping to find the pattern Jules had mentioned. She hated the fleeting sensation of the nearly recognizable picture being there, yet gone before her subconscious could interpret the image. Shutting her eyes, she attempted to make the picture coalesce. She gave up when all she saw behind her lids was Luke’s sexy mouth. She wouldn’t mind contemplating that picture all day long, but she had a goal to achieve.

  Reluctantly she opened her eyes and pulled on her earlobe as she studied the pieces littering the ground in front of her. “Okay, some of this stuff is more high-tech than the rest.” She mumbled her thoughts out loud as Jules sat quietly next to her, an encouraging smile on her face. “So, if I regroup the parts by what seems to belong together . . .”

  She moved the coiled tubing next to the small pump, then set the gallon-sized glass jug by it. Positioning the wheel at the base of the two long poles they’d lugged all over the vineyard, she studied the pieces again, still not quite seeing the overall result.

  Jeff and Steve came huffing back up the steps to the porch. Sweat stained the back of FIG’s cotton pullover shirt and beaded on his brow. As he jostled past Jac and Jules, a drop of perspiration plopped on the board next to where Jac rested her hand. She curled her fingers into her palm, thanking her lucky stars her hand hadn’t been one inch to the right, where FIG’s sweat bomb would have scored a direct hit.

  She forced her attention back to the task at hand and squinted at the convoluted mess in front of her. To her surprise, the answer to the puzzle took shape in her head, the way the Magic Photos images revealed themselves behind colorful blurred lines. Sudden and unexpected. “Oh, my God! Jules, it’s a wheelbarrow.”

  “Holy crap! You’re right.” Jules’ delighted laughter filled the cool autumn air. She reached for the mesh bag of hardware.

  While she dumped the screws out of the bag, Jac upended the large tub they’d taken turns toting around the vineyard balanced on their heads. Positioning one pole over the convenient pre-drilled holes, Jac took one of the bolts from Jules and fitted it through both sets of holes, holding it in place while Jules tightened a nut down. Thirty seconds later, they had the second pole secured in place.

  Jac stole a glance at the other contestants. Sally and Belinda were closest to being done, while the insurance guys still hadn’t figured out which pieces they needed. Other teams were at various stages of construction on their projects, bu
t none were closer than the attorneys. Determined not to lose to the lawyers, Jac threaded another bolt into the wheel bracket. Working as a team, they quickly added the wheel, then righted their finished product.

  “Done!” Jules hollered, as she high-fived Jac and hugged her hard.

  Their delighted laughter was drowned out by the groans from the other teams.

  Jeff cast down the rubber gasket he’d been trying to fit over the glass jug. He leered across the porch at them. “I’d be pretty pissed off if you ladies didn’t make victory hugs look so hot.”

  “Shut the hell up, Jeff,” Belinda barked, a scowl forming between her brows. “No one wants to hear you being an asshole.”

  “Congratulations on winning despite having all those handicaps.” At least Sally seemed pleased for them.

  Marcus stepped forward and bent to examine their completed project. “You did well on this task. We gave you a lot of extra pieces to work with and made sure they could work for multiple tools we use here in the vineyard. We’ll see how you do on the next task after lunch.”

  He clapped his hands for attention. “Okay, you’re all dismissed for lunch. Be back on the porch at half past one for the next activity, ‘Wine Country Shootout.’”

  “Finally, something I might win. I’m a crack shot with a rifle.” Steve boasted. “Although Jeff might be a handicap. He can’t shoot his way out of a wet paper bag.”

  “Don’t be a douche, Steve,” Jeff grumbled.

  Belinda glared at Jac as she hurried past, a trailing Sally in her wake.

  “Can you shoot?” Jules asked as she set about tidying up the porch.

  Jac answered with a grin. “Nope. Never learned. Didn’t need it in the city and Gramps wouldn’t let me touch his guns whenever I visited.”

  “Good. There’s no way we’ll win this afternoon’s activity. Should keep the natives happy.”

  Laughing, Jac dropped the leftover hardware back into the mesh bag. “At this point, even if I was a sharpshooter, I’d find a way to throw the contest. Occasionally being part of the team means letting someone else take the lead. Somehow, I’m guessing Belinda and Sally will win this event. I bet Belinda has a Carry Concealed permit.”

  “You’re probably right.” Jules dusted her hands down her thighs. “I have to stop in my office for messages. You going to eat in the dining room?”

  “I’ll catch up to you at one-thirty. I thought I’d grab a plate and take it to my room. I promised my boss I’d check in at noon every day.” Jac cursed herself for being such a team player.

  Ironic.

  Chapter 13

  Reluctant to call her office, Jac lingered on the porch, staring at the scenery. Jules retreated into the cool shadows in the front hall, and disappeared into her office. As the door swung shut, Marcus’ laugh boomed out. The sound jarred Jac from her reverie, pushing her to keep her promise to check in with Ted. Still dragging her feet, she fixed a plate of food before retreating to her room.

  Once there, happiness suffused her in the form of a text message from Luke.

  Stopped for a short coffee break. Almost home. Hope you are having a great team-kind-of day. Already missing you and looking forward to Saturday.

  She sent a fast text back to let him know Jules was her new partner and they’d won this morning’s event. Pressing ‘send’ made her positively giddy. She, too, looked forward to their date. Hugging herself, Jac called her office.

  Grim overshadowed giddy as she addressed the latest problems Deidre’s inept management had caused.

  Her lunch sat neglected on the desk next to Jac as she worked with Valerie to correct a billing issue complicated by Deidre’s version of fixing. She debated calling Ted and delivering her two-week notice. Deciding it would be best to hand in her letter of resignation in person, she clenched her fist around her iced tea and fought for patience. The billing program was simple to understand, but each time Deidre got near a client, it became a twisted, tangled jumble, reminding Jac of strands of Christmas lights not stored properly.

  At a quarter after the hour, she shut down her office link with a sigh. The idea of starting over glittered with sunbeam-bright intensity on a stormy sky. Consulting the clock by the bed, she hurried to check her email for a response from her cousin.

  The second her inbox popped up, excitement flourished up her spine. Rowena had responded. Fingers poised over the keyboard of her tablet, Jac hesitated. Uncertainty and second thoughts formed. Once she read her cousin’s answer, her destiny could be set. It would be a sign endorsing her decision to quit her job.

  Starting a new venture in Eugene was the right course of action. Unfortunately the two-hour drive from Medford could spell the death of her budding relationship with Luke. Sure, weekends would be doable, but the commute would get old fast. He’d complained about his excessive work schedule. Add commute time to Eugene to spend a day and a half with her might put him over the top.

  How long could they last when he faced a tedious drive just to see her? How long before he found someone he liked better just five minutes away from him? Someone he could spend every night with?

  And getting the farm back to working condition would be a day-in, day-out labor of love. Including the weekends she could be spending in Luke’s arms. He certainly hadn’t signed up for that. Truly, he hadn’t signed up for anything.

  Three days ago—even yesterday morning—there was nothing holding Jac in the community where she’d lived for the past three years. Yesterday afternoon, everything changed. She’d fallen into bed with the best reason to remain. And maybe she’d fallen into something else with him as well. Now she had a personal reason to stay, but no professional inclination to do so.

  Her relationship with Luke was new and exciting. Even thinking his name left her with a heady feeling. So did the idea of moving to the farm and beginning the next chapter of her life. She’d be better to end things now, before her heart got too involved. Selfishly, she buried that thought in the darkest corner of her mind.

  Holding her breath, she tapped the link to open her cousin’s email. And as she scanned the note, she forgot to start breathing again.

  The first two sentences of the message rambled about Ro’s life in general, how busy she’d been and that she couldn’t wait to move from the duller-than-dust farm for a new apartment in the bustling university town.

  The words in Ro’s second paragraph kicked her in the gut.

  ‘. . . the county sent a letter about a past due property tax bill. The grand total with penalties was in excess of fifty thousand dollars . . .’

  Rowena was prepared to let the land go to auction. She was purging “crap” Grandpa had held onto for years to get the house ready to list on the market. She’d known the taxes were due, but it had slipped her mind to make the payment on the due date.

  For three years? How could anyone forget for that long?

  Jac slumped in the chair, tears gathering in her eyes. Paying the tax bill was a condition of Rowena’s occupancy in the house. She’d lived rent free, and only had to be responsible for making sure the property stayed current with the county. Frustration grew, squeezing the breath from Jac’s lungs with the vicious force of an iron fist. The debt was ginormous, insurmountable.

  A single tear trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently. She was at a fucking team building camp. Supposedly learning how to make magic happen, to face down unreasonable odds. Unfortunately, it appeared she’d be a team of one, overcoming this setback. Even if she could raise the cash in time to pay off the tax debt, there wouldn’t be enough left over as seed money to kick-start planting on the farm.

  No, dammit! Jac jumped from her chair, restless with anger and determination. She was screwed, not defeated. As she paced in front of the sunny window, she considered her options. She’d seek agricultural or sm
all business loans. Or ask her parents for the funds, with the promise to pay them back with interest.

  And she’d insist Rowena kick in some of the money. She had to have some cash tucked away since she hadn’t been paying rent or the taxes. Ro owned that much, in return for living in the lovely turn of the century, four-bedroom home absolutely rent-free.

  The farm had belonged to Jac’s family for generations. She wasn’t going to let the land or the opportunity slip through her fingers because her fiscally irresponsible cousin had farted around and not taken care of her responsibility.

  She paused in front of the window and gazed at the vineyard. Jules had a pretty sweet setup here. She’d opened her home to visitors to teach them team building in addition to running the vineyard. Perhaps, once the farm got going, Jac could open a small inn to supplement her income. Maybe even try to work out an arrangement with the university to house their visiting faculty.

  She had options and she wasn’t going to allow this small roadblock to keep her from achieving her dreams. Sure, fifty thousand wasn’t small. Still, nothing, even that breath-stealing sum, was going to stand in her way.

  Resolving to respond to her cousin tonight, Jac shut down her email. This afternoon, she’d figure out how to pay the tax bill and start making a mental list of everything she’d have to do to move forward.

  Luke couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so out of his depth. Waves of frustration kept breaking over his head and it was becoming more difficult to swim back to the calm he needed. Negotiations with the nurses’ representatives weren’t going well. Mostly due to Brian Evert’s belligerent tone and bullying attitude.

  For the fifth time in the last ten minutes, Luke wished he had a roll of duct tape in his back pocket. He’d tear off a strip and cover his boss’ mouth in a heartbeat.