“You know,” she said, “I would be happy to drive you down there and then show you around the county a bit. We could follow the coast down to Bodega Bay and you could sample some of the freshest seafood on the west coast.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Jamie said. “But I don’t want to impose.”

  “Are you kidding? A day off playing hooky along the river, a trip to the ocean, fresh fish off the boat? Sounds like torture to me!”

  They laughed, and the decision was made. They would leave for the interview in the morning and do a short day trip. Jamie wanted to see everything this county had to offer. From what he’d seen so far of the open hills, towering trees, green river, and rich, red soil, it was a place he could call home.

  Jamie insisted on cleaning up. As he washed and dried dishes, he saw Cathy curl up in the rocking chair by the stove. The felines jumped into her lap. She looked up at him and smiled. He dropped the soapy bowl in his hand on the counter and caught it just before it bounced to the floor. “Sorry about that.”

  She placed the cats on the wood floor and walked over.

  “Good save.”

  Cathy picked up a dishtowel and finished drying the plates and silverware.

  “I think I’ll call it a night,” she said, placing the towel on a hook.

  Jamie wanted to say something. “Thanks for a perfect evening,” sounded wrong. “Sleep well,” he said.

  Outside the kitchen window, a full moon illuminated the black sky and threw silver light across the garden. It would be hard to leave when the time came.

  Perhaps harder than he ever imagined.

  ****

  Jamie tossed and turned, finally sitting up in his bed at 4:15 a.m. Pam was in Oakland. Cathy, who he was more than aware of, was down the hall. Quietly, he slid out of bed and pulled on some jeans. No one was up, so he didn’t bother about a shirt. Briefcase in hand, he walked quietly into the dining room and turned on the small lamp. He did not want to wake Cathy yet, but he was looking forward to seeing the area with her later in day.

  The résumés, all neatly typed and printed by the company he’d hired in Oakland, lay in front of him. Clean white stock reflected his experience. Cordon Bleu training from the new culinary school in San Francisco. Three years at a top restaurant in Santa Barbara, where he started as an assistant sous chef and worked his way to executive chef. Still, he was worried. The job market was tight, and in the Wine Country, even the most experienced chefs coveted jobs.

  What if he didn’t get a job? How would he support Pam and Amber?

  “Son,” his father had said. “Why don’t you go into something more stable? Medicine was good to me and your mom.”

  Jamie only stared back. Black and white: That was how his father saw everything. Good and bad, right and wrong. Being a chef was too risky now that he was a family man. Dreams were to be put aside, and the yoke of responsibility taken up.

  But Jamie’s soul longed for the color, texture, and taste of a finely prepared meal. Serving pleasure, tapping nature’s finest and plating it like a work of art: That was his calling. He was at home in a kitchen with the sounds of sizzling oil, clanging pans, and happy customers.

  Today, he would see if this training paid off. His eyes wandered out the window. A robin’s song brought in the dawn through the trees. Perhaps he’d make coffee and prep for breakfast.

  His father would tell him to pray. Cooking was the form of prayer he preferred.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Cathy pulled out her polka-dot sundress with the empire waist. It would keep her cool and was appropriate for wherever they stopped for lunch. She walked out and checked the record-shaped clock in the living room.

  “It’s almost nine,” she yelled down the hall to Jamie.

  He walked out in khaki pants, still tucking in a blue button down shirt. “Will this work?”

  “Perfectly,” she said.

  His eyes reflected the color of his shirt. She wanted to hug him for good luck, but was afraid she couldn’t stop there. Cathy imagined the feel of his strong arms around her, his tight, lean body pressed against hers. It wasn’t just that he was a good-looking man. She’d known plenty of those. It was the way she felt around him: seen, cared about, safe. She sighed and turned toward the door.

  “Let’s get a move on and get you that job!”

  Hot air blasted through the windows as they cruised down River Road, past fields of wildflowers amidst the gnarled oaks and towering redwoods of Forestville. The river sparkled to their left as beach areas revealed themselves through the trees. Sweet summer air filled the car. Sprawling vineyards and the quaint vine-covered buildings of Korbel Winery lined the road to the right.

  As they cruised into the quaint town of Guerneville, Cathy pointed out her shop, Health & Hearth.

  “Jill and Brian are probably slaving away prepping for lunch now,” she said. “I’ll bring you in soon to meet them and see the place.” She hit the gas. “But not today. Today I am on vacation! Let me know if you want to stop anywhere along the way. We’re running early and have plenty of time to make your eleven o’clock interview.”

  “Anywhere you’d like.” His eyes were glued to the scenery. “I want to see it all.”

  She slowed as they entered the town limits and passed under the sign announcing “Monte Rio, a Vacation Wonderland.” Cathy pointed out the funky metal-roofed Rio movie theater. They drove by a few shops until they were almost out of town.

  “There’s the turn-off to the famed Village Inn Restaurant,” she said, pointing to the left. “A must-come-back-for-dinner place.”

  Jamie hummed a few bars from “Don’t Stop,” a popular Fleetwood Mac song playing on the radio, and tapped his fingers on the dash to keep time. Cathy sang along. Together they managed to remember a few lyrics and create some decent harmonizing. She stole a glance at Jamie. He looked light, happy.

  Just past Monte Rio, Jamie sat up and pointed out the window. “Wait, stop.”

  “What?” Cathy hit the brakes.

  “The fruit stand. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

  “You almost gave me a heart attack,” she said. She pulled the car into the gravel parking area.

  Inside, Jamie wandered the rows. He was amusing to watch as he held up a piece of fruit, smelled it, and ran his fingers over its surface. Gently he squeezed some nectarines, then sampled the purple grapes. He popped a grape in his mouth and tossed one in the air to her.

  She caught it with her hand and tasted it. The sweet tangy juice was delicious.

  His eyes were on her lips. She swallowed in nervousness, her lips parting.

  “Shall we get some of these?” He started filling a bag with nectarines.

  “Sure, but they’re so ripe. They’ll ooze everywhere after a bite!”

  “The better to lick off,” he said, running his tongue along his lips.

  Cathy shivered. He had no idea how the sight of his tongue running across his full lips affected her. How could she not think of him licking the sweet nectar off her mouth? Was he flirting? Probably not. He was just being a little boy, excited, having fun. But the way he looked at her. That was not a place she’d allowed her thoughts to go with a married man, no matter how much he drew her. Pam was her friend. Jamie had a family that depended on him. She would not forget that.

  With two bags of fruit aboard, they continued down River Road toward the town of Jenner for Jamie’s interview. The morning sun played between the trees as they thinned along into prairies and rolling green hills. The next curve revealed the old town of Duncan Mills. Cathy turned left off the side road to quickly show Jamie the quaint Blue Heron Cafe.

  “This is another one of the best places on the River that serves amazing food. We’ll have to try it sometime,” she said.

  “Mind if I jump out and peruse the menu on the door for a sec?” he said.

  “Go ahead.”

  She watched him examine the giant blue heron statue out front. The ocean breeze, cooler now as they approached the coast, ruffled his hair as he studied the outside menu like a textbook. He leaned over and peeked through the windows.

  “Totally awesome,” he said as he jumped back in the car. “It’s exactly the kind of place I would love to own myself someday. Wonder if they need another chef?”

  “It’s worth a call when we get back,” she said. Cathy drove down the parking lot to show him the Country Candy store and original train cars, abandoned when the depot was still active before 1930.

  “Amber would love it here. I’ll have to bring her back sometime,” he said.

  She pointed out the rodeo grounds across the street with their bleachers and rolling green acres.

  “If you’re around for the Fourth of July picnic, we’ll have a booth here and sell food. Lots of things for kids and families to do as well.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see how the interviews go. Count us in if we’re here.”

  Cathy wondered where Jamie and his family would be in July. He was here today, she reminded herself as she turned onto the main road. Each bend revealed another postcard picture of hills with cattle and sheep dotting the landscape among the oak trees. As they entered Jenner by the Sea, she slowed down.

  “What a view,” Jamie said. “The river looks like an open hand pouring out to sea.”

  Small homes and ranches lined the low hills, leveling out with the river into the Pacific Ocean.

  “I love this area. I’ve had fantasies of living here on the hill and watching the sunset every night over the water,” said Cathy.

  “Totally. It would be a great place to hole up and write a cookbook.”

  She could imagine him owning a classy little restaurant overlooking the ocean, a destination spot for tourists and locals. The entry way would prominently display his natural foods gourmet cookbook.

  “I could see having a little place on the bluff over there.”

  “I was just thinking that,” Cathy said.

  He laughed. “You’ve said a few things right out of my head today too.”

  The road curved south at the gas station, so she veered right and the Jenner Hideaway Restaurant came into view.

  “There it is,” she said pointing to the wooden structure. “Inside there are high-beam ceilings and wall-size windows facing out to sea.”

  “Looks cool,” he said as she parked the car.

  He combed his hair in the rearview mirror and smoothed down his shirt.

  “You look great,” Cathy said. “Now go in there and ace that interview.”

  He stepped out and closed the door behind him, leaving her with a dazzling smile as he walked away. It would be a primo place for him to work, and they could probably find a home up River Road to live. They wouldn’t be far from her, but there wasn’t much to do down here. Maybe Napa or Sonoma would be a better choice for Pam.

  She left the car and walked along the side of the building for a better view. The tide looked like it was coming in, encroaching on the land with each new wave. She sat back onto a bench and let her thoughts drift. Seagulls shrieked as they dive-bombed from the air. It felt good to stop, really stop. It seemed like years since she wasn’t running from or hurrying to something. She buried her past by working hard, but she buried herself in it as well. She had Tim and Jill, her women’s book group, and loyal customers. Dating amused her, but she kept her heart at a distance. The men she chose seemed fine with that.

  Cathy checked her watch. Thirty minutes had gone by. It must have been a thorough interview. She rose and walked back to the car. Jamie stood there unbuttoning his shirt to the T-shirt below. He rolled up his sleeves before getting back in the car.

  “How’d it go?” she asked, sliding in the driver’s side.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Well, let me say it wasn’t a total bummer. I got to taste the seafood chowder they were preparing for lunch.”

  Cathy frowned. “That bad?”

  Jamie waved his hand as he imitated the voice of the restaurant manager. “We are a very conservative place. Every recipe is made the same, no deviations.”

  She knew that style would kill his spirit.

  “Let’s split,” Cathy said. “The coast is awaiting us. And a scrumptious lunch.”

  Leaving the seals lounging on rocks, they sped along the rocky shoreline of Highway 1. Cathy pointed out Goat Rock and her favorite places to beachcomb and explore. The expansive rocky cliffs dipped into the Pacific Ocean. Clear blue water glistened in the sun as they approached Bodega Bay. Tourists were everywhere. She passed the bait shop and turned into the Tides Restaurant parking lot.

  They hopped out of the car and stretched in the warm sun.

  “Wow. Smell that salty air.” Jamie hurried toward the fishing pier to get a better view.

  Cathy followed him along the boardwalk, watching the fascinating pelicans flap their enormous wings over the tin rooftops. The scent of fish permeated the boats unloading their catches. Families passed with dripping ice cream cones and sticky kids.

  “Amber would love it here,” he said.

  “She would.” Cathy wondered if he wished he had his real family here instead of her.

  “Are you hungry, Cathy? The seafood is obviously fresh off the boat.”

  She gave him her of-course-I’m-hungry look, and the rest was forgotten. “The shrimp cocktail is to die for too. Let’s go.”

  They scampered up the pier into the large dining room of the rustic restaurant. After a short wait, the hostess led them to a table by the window. Jamie slid into the far side of the booth where he could watch the kitchen. Cathy glanced over the menu while Jamie scanned the wine list.

  “They have the wines!” he said.

  Cathy looked up. “Which ones?”

  Jamie pointed to the award-winning wines on the menu. “Where have you been? Last year these wineries in Napa put California wines on the map!”

  She remembered hearing about some big upset in France last year. “I kind of remember.”

  “Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars entered their Cabernet against France’s best Bordeaux. They say the French Judges were very skeptical, but it was a blind tasting. And in the end the 1973 Stag’s Leap S.LV. Cabernet Sauvignon won first place along with Chateau Montelena’s Chardonnay from Napa just a few miles from here!”

  “That’s amazing,” Cathy said.

  “And the winery has only been open now for seven years. These fine wines are one of the reasons I wanted to be a chef here in the Napa/Sonoma Wine Country. It’s the up-and-coming food and wine destination of California.” His cheeks were flushed and his eyes sparkling.

  “It’s not like you’re excited about it or anything?”

  Jamie grinned. “Sorry if I’m talking your ear off. They do have both wines though.”

  Cathy laid down her menu. “By all means, let’s order the Chardonnay with our entrée and the Cab with dessert.”

  “A perfect choice, my lady. And if we have time someday, I was hoping to get over and meet Mike Grgich. He was the winemaker that steered Chateau Montelena’s 1973 Chardonnay from start to finish.”

  “No problem,” Cathy said. “It’s about fifty miles east of Forestville. We can all make the drive someday and check out potential restaurants to apply to as well.”

  The waiter appeared and placed hot sourdough bread and soft butter on the table. Jamie ordered the wine with two shrimp cocktails and looked over to her.

  “Anything else?”

  “Not for now,” she said. Her taste buds prepared for a treat.

  A few awkward moments of silence passed as they stared out the window at the glistening bay. It felt like a date, but she reminded herself it was not.

  “When did you start cooking?” she asked.

  He buttered his bread and took a bite, obviously assessing its flavor.

  “I wanted to be a chef since I was about five years old. I’d tell my parents, ‘When I grow up, I’m going to be a cook.’”

  “They must have thought that was cute.”

  Emotions raced across his face. “They would laugh and say, ‘Not with that brain you won’t.’”

  She watched the lines tighten around his eyes. “What did they want you to be?”

  “My father was a prominent physician in San Francisco, with a PhD from Wheaton. My grandfather, a surgeon at St. Mary’s. They pressured me to go to the right schools.” His jaw tightened and released with a sigh. “What about you?”

  She couldn’t imagine his creative, free spirit trapped in a classroom, glued to rigorous studies.

  “Well, I got married immediately out of high school. Real smart move.”

  Jamie laughed. “None of us make great decisions when we’re young.”

  The waiter appeared with the bottle, showed them the label, uncorked it, and poured splashes of wine into both of their glasses. Jamie swirled it before tasting. He let the wine open his mouth before swallowing.

  “Excellent,” he said to the waiter. Jamie made a toast. “To playing hooky.”

  He looked more relaxed now. Cathy wanted to know everything about him but was hesitant to delve further. Between sips she rambled on about herself.

  “The marriage lasted shorter than the ceremony.”

  He chuckled.

  “It’s funny now,” Cathy agreed. “But it sure wasn’t back then. After it was over, I packed and moved in with my mom at her country place on the Russian River. She left soon after, and here I’ve stayed.”

  Towering shrimp cocktails with celery stalks rooted like small trees were placed before them. Jamie inhaled before he took his first bite. “Awesome fare!”

  As she talked, Jamie nodded, chewed, and gave her his complete attention. She wasn’t used to a man really listening, much less caring what she said. Occasionally his eyes wandered to watch what was happening in the open kitchen.

  She took a break from her long, sad story and bit into the crisp shrimp drenched in tangy cocktail sauce. The flavors melted in her mouth. She followed it with a sip of wine. It paired perfectly with the meal.

  “During my practical stage, when I realized no one was going to take care of me,” she said between bites, “I did end up going to Sonoma State, known as Granola State back then, and majored in business.”