Catch Me If You Can (28 page)

They all waited in silence for her reaction. She stood still, staring, for what seemed to be an age. Then she blinked and dusted her hands off on her apron. She turned to the two serving girls, who were watching, agog.

“Annie, we’ll need to put on the second oven and fetch another side of beef from the pantry. My eldest son has seen fit to come home for his dinner, at last.”  With that she darted to him and Rivers caught her in his arms, laughing at her remark. “Oh my dear boy, it is good to see you again.” 

They hugged each other tightly and Eleanor noticed the maman quickly brushing away any trace of tears and instead acting as if they had seen him a few days ago, with no recriminations or regrets.

Everyone poured into the kitchen, which soon became a hive of activity and introductions, with everyone chatting and Maman overseeing proceedings whilst also issuing instructions for all the wine in the house to be opened, and a list of food to be brought from the pantries that grew longer by the minute.

“Such beautiful eyes, you have, my dear,” she said, when she met Eleanor, and smiled warmly at her, astutely noticing the note in his voice when her son introduced the young woman as her father had.

Between Fleur and the grandfather, Eleanor and Daniel were seated at the huge table and kept entertained and plied with refreshments. Eleanor watched the family scene from her seat with a deep sense of satisfaction. This was different from where she’d come from and everything she’d known, and she was proud to witness his family reunion. Her heart swelled with pride and love.

Rivers took time to know his new sister-in-law. He also teased his mother mercilessly about her inability to pass on her cooking skills. Eleanor watched the proceedings without comment, until she overheard the maman ask him how long he was staying.

“We must be going soon, for Eleanor’s aunt, my employer, is expecting us home soon.” 

“This is in Napa, where you give all our family knowledge to their vines?”

Rivers chuckled low. “I knew you’d track me down.”

“I kept my tabs on you, as any mother worth her salt would.”

Eleanor took a deep breath and stood. “You should stay for a while. Daniel can escort me from here.” 

Rivers looked at her with his eyebrows raised and a deep sense of amusement. He shook his head slightly in chastisement, which would only be visible or make sense to her. His eyes told her he was accusing her of trying to run away from him again.

How untrue that was, Eleanor reflected.

“Oh will you, Pierre?”  Maman asked. “Surely you can spare us a couple of days, or at least a promise to come back soon.”

“I promise to come back soon, either way.”  He glanced at Eleanor again and smiled. “However, Eleanor should perhaps complete her journey tomorrow and I’ll follow on in a few days.”

Eleanor smiled. It was a clever, tender gesture, allowing her to complete without him, and it fulfilled the purpose of keeping both women happy.

Maman nodded approvingly, and returned to supervising the cooking.

Grand-pére set a basket filled with bottles of wine upon the table. He slowly uncorked the bottles, inhaling the aroma from the cork of each one before carrying the bottles through to the dining room.

When he returned, he told Fleur to show Daniel her little patch in the garden. Eleanor found herself being led away by Grand-pére. He carried the empty wine basket and took her to a narrow corridor, at the end of which stood a heavy wooden door. “
La Cave
, our wine cellar, the heart of our home.”

He pushed the door open. Stone steps descended into the darkness. He lit two lanterns that stood in a niche at the top of the steps, and held them up high to show how deep the staircase went.

“Will you come down with me and choose a special wine that will bring us more of this good fortune?” 

Eleanor nodded. She was eager, and Rivers needed some time alone with his mother.

They descended into the darkness and Eleanor watched in awe as the light thrown out by the swinging lanterns revealed the vast, deep cavern, filled from floor to ceiling with row after row of tall shelves, inset with symmetrical diamond divisions, each filled with bottles. She breathed deep the earthy scent. It was entwined with wood and something rich and inviting – the massive barrels of wine.

Grand-pére set one of the lanterns down on a roll-topped desk that stood near the bottom of the steps, and raised the flame of the other.

“Our family have been
vigneron
, wine growers, for centuries. When I came here to America, I brought a small casket of earth from our home in France. Some of it lies on this floor, in the cellars we dug. The rest is at the back of the
chateau
–- did you notice the older vines there?” 

Eleanor nodded.

“Those are the oldest, the first grapes that grew here, and I planted them myself.”  He gestured for her to follow and led her down through the tall racks that were narrowly separated by small passages. At the end of each row, a ladder was stationed for easy access.

Eleanor looked up at the shelving as they passed. Each diamond shaped segment of the rack held a slot in which a piece of parchment was inscribed with details. He led her past rows upon rows of wine and at the end of the racks, he gestured over to the wall where a large storage niches been carved into the stones. There, in what appeared to be the most prestigious position of all, was a collection of bottles, each in a separate wooden slot.

“These are the oldest wines from this land. When these wines were bottled, my hair was as dark as Pierre’s.”  

Eleanor saw something of Rivers’ smile in his face.

“Now, as you are the special visitor and you have brought our Pierre back to us, you must pick a bottle.”

“How do I know which one to pick?” 

He shrugged. “Perhaps one will beckon to you,” he said gently. “You must choose your own way to find it.” 

Eleanor was tickled. This was obviously an honor that he gave to certain guests. She looked at the bottles.

“Well, I’ve known Rivers… er, Pierre, for about twelve months.” She rested her hand on the first row then counted across to the twelfth row.

Grand-pére smiled, nodding at her method.

“However, of those twelve months I believe we have only been together during five of them.” 

She counted five rows up with her hand. He reached for the slot and pulled out the dusty bottle with an eager expression. He turned the bottle carefully in his hand and blew the dust from the label.

“Ah, you have chosen well. This is a good wine that will bring us much more good fortune when we open it.”

He stopped speaking, and cocked his head to one side, as if listening.

He winked, tapped the side of his nose, then pointed to the stone cellar steps.

A moment later, Eleanor heard the scrape of the cellar door opening. Light preceded Rivers’ booted legs down the deep, wide steps. She watched as he emerged into the light of the lantern below. He stood at the bottom the steps, his white shirt aglow in the darkness.

The old man tucked the chosen bottle under his arm and led her back toward the steps, to Rivers.

“Have I kept Eleanor away from you too long, Pierre?” he asked, chuckling.

Rivers was unperturbed by his remark, he was indeed looking at her, illumined in the dark cavern by the flickering lamplight. “I must speak to her for a few moments. I feel she’s owed some explanations.”

She smiled up at him, tentatively.

“Are you warm enough?” he whispered.

She nodded, totally focused on him. He looked strong and determined, set against his entire heritage, here in this channel of earth, the channel that his family had carved into their new home. It seemed ancient, nonetheless, as if they had truly brought it with them from France.

She only noticed Grand-pére was moving away, when she vaguely became aware of his lamp slowly ascending the stairs, in the periphery of her vision. They were left with the lantern he’d placed on the desk. The shadows flickered as Grand-pére shut the door at the top of the steps, casting patterns across their static forms.

They silently watched each other. Their emotions were running strong and raw from the events the day had brought them. Need welled up inside her, uncontrollably. She wanted to hold him and blurt out her feelings, here in the depths of the cellars. One hand went to her mouth to hold back. Even now, she wasn’t sure of him.

Rivers closed the space between them, drew her hand away, and took her into his arms. He kissed her gently at first, then more firmly, while her hands crept up to pull his head down to meet hers, and his arms lifted her, pushing her against the desk. The cellar was awash with flickering shadows as the lamp rattled.

She locked him in, her arms echoing her desire to have him as close as possible. He straightened up, his gaze holding hers. He rested the back of his fingers against the plumpness of her breasts, a gentle pressure, a pressure met by her body, her back arching her body toward him. She gave a quiet moan.

“It is strange to see you here.” He nodded at the cellar. “We used to play hide and seek between the shelves when we were boys.” His eyes shone in the lamplight as he talked about his childhood. “Father used to tell us it was no way to show respect for the wine, but I think we learnt as much about it from knowing the names on the racks we hid behind as we would have from any more practical way to learn.” 

She smiled. It was good to witness him mention his childhood, things he’d never disclosed before. It was obvious he’d wanted to be part of this, this heritage, and his home. Why had he abandoned it?

“Rivers, my love, why did you leave them?” 

He smiled gently at her. “I did it for Theo, I left for the sake of Theo.”

“Because of his injury?” 

He nodded. “He was fifteen. My father died in the same accident.”

“Oh, my love.” She reached for him with tender hands. Her throat constricted. “It must have been a dreadful time for you and your mother.”

“Yes, Maman was distraught after the accident. For two years she barely said a word. She’d seen it happen, as did I.” The pain he carried was there in his eyes, the pain he’d hidden.

“It was the end of the harvest and my father was tired, having worked hard all through the season. Theo and I helped him into the night with the duties, long after the workers had gone home. The vineyard was expanding rapidly and he wanted to ensure we made the most of every day. It was hard work all right. Late one night Theo and I were in the outhouse where the first stage of the ferment takes place in the
fouloir
, the grape crusher. Father was rolling in dozens of these
barriques
.”  He gestured to the massive oak barrels lined on large, high shelves on the far wall and down the corridor she’d noticed earlier.

“We were readying them on plinths for the next day’s harvest, next to the ones that had been filled that day.” He sighed deeply as if coming to terms with the story himself.

“He was tired. A huge stack of them rolled down from the plinth he’d stationed them on, where he’d not secured them properly. Once the weight of the full barrels shifted, there was no chance to stop them.”

“Theo was close by. Father pushed him away before he fell. Theo would have been crushed too, but as it was he lost his arm. It was trapped under the collapsed plinth.”

She held him, her arms around his neck giving him solace.

“Theo lost more than that, he lost part of himself, and his belief in what he was able to do. The blame is partly that he witnessed our father die, a man who worked hard for his family. But his age meant he was in the throes of becoming a young man and the accident left more scars than the visible ones.”

“I don’t understand…why then, did you leave?”

“For Theo. He felt of little use. For five years I led the household, trying to impress upon him what he should see in the future, what might lie ahead of him.”

Why, Eleanor realized, he’d guided Theo as he’d tried to guide her. “I can vouch for your tenacity in such things,” she gently teased.

“Am I a terrible tyrant?”  He returned her smile and she shook her head.

“You seem to be surrounded by stubborn-headed people is all,” she replied. “Your harsh tutelage seems to have cured us both of our obstinate ways.” 

He gave a low chuckle. “With you it was somewhat more pleasant, my love.”

He kissed her then, gently, and it was laced with sweet passion.

“With Theo I had reached the end of my tether, I had run out of ideas. I decided to drop the whole damn thing on him to show him he could cope, and he has, admirably. At the age of twenty-one he stepped in to cover for his absconding brother. I’d hinted at it to Maman. She knew it might happen. When I left I gleaned news of how they fared by means fair and fowl, and when it was clear he’d come into his own, I gave up my claim to be head of the house and forged a life of my own. That was something I thought I would never regret…until I met you.”

She didn’t think she could stand to know more. Then she noticed that the color had risen in his cheeks.

“Dear God, Rivers are you ill? You are blushing,”