Slice and Dice (13 page)

On their way north through Stillwater, a small, historic town on the St. Croix River, all Nathan would say was that she’d better stop bugging him and be patient. In a few minutes, she’d find out where they were going.

Well, now they were there and she still didn’t know where they were. “What’s New Fonteney?”

“A Cistercian monastery built in the 1920s. Or, I should say, it was up until six months ago. That’s when the monks packed up and left.”

“Where’d they go?”

“The order merged with a similar one in West Virginia. That left this place looking for a new owner.”

“You?”

“No, not exactly. I’ll explain everything, but let’s go take a look first.”

The iron gate screeched as she pushed it open. “How atmospheric. A deserted monastery. You always were good at finding new places to explore. Remember when we discovered the ruins of that old mansion on Mount Curve, the one that used to sit on that amazing bluff overlooking downtown Minneapolis?”

“Sure I remember,” he said, locking up the car. “We’d sit on the grass and try to figure out which room had been where. And if we rebuilt it someday, how we’d do it.”

“Funny,” she said, laughing at her own naivety. “I always thought of that place as ours. In case you didn’t know, they finally cut down the lilacs and built a bunch of condos.” She turned just in time to see him hoist a picnic basket and a blanket out of the trunk. “Fried chicken and deli potato salad?” she asked.

“Have a little more faith, woman.” Nathan grinned, slamming the trunk shut and then joining her. “Have I ever cooked you a bad meal?”

“You’ve never cooked me
any
meal.”

“Well, we’ll have to rectify that.” Grabbing her hand, he led her through the gate, then turned off the path almost immediately and headed into the woods.

“I take it this is the back door?”

“More or less. There’s a main entrance, but the approach isn’t nearly as pretty.”

As they came to a clearing, Sophie caught her first sight of New Fonteney just as he’d wanted here to see it.lt was .. .She couldn’t quite find the word. “It’s idyllic,” she said finally. “Like a Constable painting.” Huge puffy clouds rose up over the soft, undulating green hills. Next to her, she could feel Nathan breathing it all in. He was so different from Bram. An outdoorsman. Less polished.

“I love it here,” he said, setting the picnic basket down.

They stood at the top of a grassy hill. Flowering apple trees dotted the landscape as the ground sloped gently away from them down to the St. Croix River. Sophie was transfixed by the beauty of it. After a few silent moments, they began their search for a suitable picnic site. As they walked along, she could see several low buildings in the distance emerging in the bright afternoon sunlight.

“Wait until you get inside the main hall. All the wood timbering — you couldn’t afford to build a place like this today. Really, Sophie, it’s amazing. And perfect.”

“For what?”

He switched the picnic basket to his other hand. “I want Mom to buy New Fonteney. She’s been talking for years about opening another campus for the cooking school. This place is ideal. It’s secluded, with sublime views, but near a main highway and a small funky town. It has separate rooms for ninety students, which would be just about right. There’s already a great garden, an apple orchard, a grape arbor that the brothers nurtured for years. I’m told they even made a little wine, just for themselves. There’s a small guesthouse for visitors. A barn. A large kitchen. We’d have to add to it, but there’s plenty of space. It wouldn’t be a problem. The main hall is straight out of a Brother Cadfael novel. Ever read any of those?”

Sophie shook her head.

“The first time I was here, I thought I was in some kind of medieval time warp. The monks were all walking around in those dark brown cowls. I even got to sit in on one of their evening complines. It was almost unearthly, it was so peaceful.”

“What would you do with the sanctuary?”

He shrugged. “I suppose we could use it for a study hall. Maybe a library. It’s an impressive space, but not as churchy as you might think. Everything here is simply constructed, no stained glass, no obvious ornamentation, and yet it’s so powerful. I’m sure we won’t have any trouble putting every building to good use.”

As they strolled toward the main hall, they continued to talk. Nathan explained what he’d learned from his first visit to New Fonteney. “The monks valued solitude, chose to live away from large towns. They wanted time to work, pray, study, to live a balanced life dedicated to God. I was impressed, although it’s not the kind of life I’d want. And yet I don’t know.” Once again he breathed the air in deeply. “I always feel so relaxed when I come here. It’s a special place. I’d hate to see that change.”

“Do you think it will?”

“I think the peacefulness at New Fonteney is part of the karma, to borrow a term from our past. I’d like to see some of that being passed on to the students.” He set the picnic basket down again, then spread the blanket on the grass.

The sweet, delicate scent from the apple blossoms was almost unbearably lovely. As Sophie watched Nathan smooth the wrinkles out of the blanket, time melted away.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, sitting down and pulling her down beside him.

“Oh, nothing very important.”

His brown eyes seemed so sad. “You mean, nothing we can do anything about.”

She looked away.

“Sophie, listen. I don’t want this day to be a bummer for either of us. I just thought we could spend a few hours together. But if we can’t, if it’s too hard …”

“No,” she said softly. “Of course not. I’m fine. Are… you fine?”

“I think so.”

After a long moment, she began rubbing her hands together, hoping a change in subject would help. “What kind of grub did you bring?”

He laughed, dragging the picnic basket in front of him. “That’s something I always loved about you, Soph. You never had a lot of pretensions.”

“That’s because to be a good card-carrying Minnesotan, you must never get
the big head.”

“God, where did all that crap come from? I’ve lived all over the world, and I can tell you from firsthand experience, the Midwest is a weird place.”

“That’s our Scandinavian heritage you’re defaming, Mr. Buckridge. You’re making light of the only place where true, God-given values are left in this world.” Hearing a low rumbling in the distance, she looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering along the western horizon. “You know, unless you brought something pretty minimal for us to eat, our picnic plans may have to be put on hold.”

“Nonsense.” He eyed the heavens with perfect serenity. “I checked the weather forecast before we left. We’ve got hours before any storm hits.” He opened the basket and took out two champagne flutes and a bottle of 1990 Veuve Clicquot. “I was lucky enough to find this in a local wine shop.”

She was impressed. It was one of the world’s great luxury bottlings of champagne.

“And this way,” he said, still grinning, “I didn’t have to remember to bring along a corkscrew.” He quickly unsealed the wrapping and popped the cork, pouring Sophie’s glass first and then his. “Shall we make a toast?”

“Sure.” She had to think fast. She didn’t want him to propose something uncomfortable. “Why don’t we drink to New Fonteney and the new cooking school.”

“All right,” he said, adding, “and to our time here this afternoon. May it be something we always remember.”

They clicked their glasses.

After taking a sip, Nathan set his glass down. “This is wonderful, isn’t it? A peaceful setting, fabulous food, and a beautiful woman to enjoy it with.”

Sophie blushed. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she said, "I haven’t seen any of that fabulous food yet.”

“Well,” he said, lifting out a series of packages wrapped in white paper, “it’s not fried chicken and potato salad — not that I’ve got anything against that great American fare — but this seemed like more fun.”

Watching him unwrap each item, Sophie was treated to an array of soft cheeses, some thinly sliced prosciutto, a wedge of duck terrine, and a special German wunderwurst — braunschweiger studded with pistachios. Next appeared thick, fragrant onion rolls and several varieties of French and German mustards. Then an assortment of fresh fruit, all cut and ready to eat: peaches, a honeydew melon, strawberries, and kiwis. And finally a cold Provencal ragout of vegetables.

“No dessert?” she asked, looking disappointed.

By the gleam in his eyes, she could tell he’d saved the best for last.

“As I recall, you like chocolate.”

“You know I do.”

He lifted a small covered dish out of the bottom. Removing the cover, he presented it to her. “A simple but elegant gâteau au chocolat. It has a brandy butter filling and a bittersweet glace frosting. You like?”

Sophie’s mouth watered. “Why don’t we start with dessert first?”

He laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”

For the next hour, they sipped their champagne and ate their food, all the while reminiscing about the past. Occasionally, Sophie would hear the rumble of distant thunder, but Nathan ignored it completely. Nothing was going to ruin the day for him.

Although the glow she felt was partly the wine, Sophie knew that most of it came from being with Nathan again. She couldn’t exactly ignore the sensations churning inside her. The more they talked, the more she realized she still had some disturbingly intense feelings for him. And yet she loved Bram, too. She’d allowed herself to be coaxed into an untenable situation. Glancing at Nathan, she saw that he’d grown quiet, and wondered if he felt as unsettled as she did.

“Are you happy?” she asked finally. She had to know.

He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “At this moment, completely. Just don’t wake me, okay?”

She smiled. “No, Nathan. I mean, are you happy with your life?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t sound all that convinced.”

He shrugged, then wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s nothing a fast car and a beautiful blonde couldn’t cure.”

“Come on, don’t flirt. Answer me. Truthfully.”

The light seemed to drain from his eyes. “I love my job.”

“Your job isn’t your life.”

“Funny, for years I thought it was.” He poured the last of the champagne into their glasses. After a moment he asked, “Do you know what a frustrated system is, Sophie?”

“I’ve never heard the term.”

“Well, it’s a matrix of sorts, a mathematical system in which the elements or the relationships, or both, are defined in such a way that all of the conditions for harmonious existence can never be met.”

“Ah, okay. You want to explain that a little more clearly?”

He lifted his glass and studied the champagne’s color. “My life is a frustrated system, Soph. I need three specific elements in it to feel whole, but at any one time I can only have two.”

She nibbled a piece of cake. “You’re going to have to be more specific. I don’t really get it.”

“All right.” His eyes narrowed. “I can’t be close to my family, be happy, and have a conscience all at the same time. I can have any two, but not all three.”

Sophie frowned in thought. “So which one have you given up?”

A crack of thunder followed by a bright flash of lightning interrupted his answer.

Looking up at the sky, Nathan said, “I think I may have been wrong about that storm.” He scrambled to his feet, dumping the dregs of their food into the basket.

A sudden gust of wind picked up the blanket and tossed it down the grassy slope.

“I’ll get it,” called Sophie, reaching it just as the first rain began to fall.

“Come on,” he shouted as another bolt of lightning split the sky. “Let’s head for the main hall.”

Grabbing her backpack, Sophie followed him. It was a good half-mile to the vine-covered building. They traveled as fast as they could, hopping over rocks and thrashing their way through sections of tall grass. The storm was bad and getting worse. In the distance, Sophie saw a flash of light. An instant later the trunk of a tree exploded, the main part toppling over. By the time they reached the side door, they were both soaked to the skin. Nathan felt around in his pocket for the keys, and after pressing one into the lock, they were inside.

“Do I look as ridiculous as you do?” laughed Sophie, shaking the water from her clothes and hair like a wet dog.

Just as they’d entered the building, the rain poured down in sheets. Daylight faded into darkness. Every few seconds lightning flashed and thunder wasn’t far behind. The storm was almost on top of them now.

“I wish we had a radio,” said Nathan, rushing to one of the many windows that overlooked a graveled courtyard.

It was warm outside, but the air inside the hall was cold. “This could easily turn into a tornado.” Sophie looked around, observing that the place was completely shut up. Nathan had been right about the timbering. It made the long, narrow, two-story room feel both solemn and grand, like a cathedral in miniature.