He gazed into Saraâs eyes and felt that elemental attraction again. So elemental, that he reminded himself he was here to talk to her.
After Jase removed the banding around the bottle caps and used the corkscrew, he poured a sample of the first bottle of wine into two of the four juice glasses. âHow long were you at the day-care center?â
âWe finished around three.â
He picked up one of the glasses and handed it to her. âIâm terrifically impressed with The Mommy Club. After I left there today, I had an idea about promoting it more, to get more people involved.â
âWhatâs your idea?â Saraâs fingers brushed his when she took the glass. She was looking at him as if what he had to say was more important than taking a drink.
Damn, but he wanted to kiss her.
Sara Stevens took her eyes from the long driveway nestled between rows and rows of grape trellises, colorful rose gardens and mountains in the distance. Glancing over her shoulder into the back where her four-year-old daughter sat in her car seat, she noticed Amy was staring out the window. Amy was as shaken as she was. She could tell when her little girl was quiet any length of time. Sheâd been quiet since Sara had awakened her a few nights ago in a house filled with smoke and carried her to safety.
Had that only been a few nights ago?
Theyâd lost everything theyâd possessed, except their car. The loss weighed heavily on Sara. But right now, what weighed on her most was the decision sheâd have to make regarding their living arrangements. Going through the channels of The Mommy Club, an organization in Fawn Grove, California, that helped parents in need, Jase Cramer had invited her and Amy to stay in the guesthouse at the nearby Raintree Winery.
But she and Jase had a history. She was just coming to look at the guesthouse today. Maybe she could find another place to stay.
Or maybe not.
As she drove up to the gravel parking area at the guest cottage, she spotted Jase standing by the door in the mid-May sun. His wavy black hair was shaggy, his gray eyes still intense. Craggy lines had etched his face, no doubt from the sights heâd witnessed in his former career. His physical therapy had ended two years ago. What had happened to him since?
She was about to find out.
He was so tall and muscular, now tanned from his work on the vineyard rather than his former profession as a photographer and journalist who told the rest of the world about children in refugee camps.
She shouldnât be so unsettled about this meeting. She was a widow now, after all. But seeing him again took her back two years to a time when her life had been different, to a time when sheâd thought sheâd been happy, to a time before her marriage had been rocked and her world as sheâd known it had blown up.
She opened her car door, and he offered her his hand. âSara. Itâs good to see you again. Iâm just sorry itâs under these circumstances.â
His voice was still that deep warm baritone that seemed to vibrate through her. âHow did you know about the fire?â
âI saw your interview on the news.â
Sara nodded. âRight after the fire. That reporter wouldnât stop asking questions.â
âYou were the news. You saved your daughter from a burning house. Thatâs heroic.â
âNot heroic. I couldnât have left her. Sheâs my heart.â
After studying her for several long moments, Jase peered into the backseat. âHow is she doing?â
âShe doesnât understand what happened. Kaitlyn Foster has made us feel at home in her guest room, but Amy is confused by it all.â
âWhy donât we take a look at the guesthouse? Maybe sheâll like the cottage and the vineyard.â
A few minutes later, Sara held Amyâs hand as they stepped over the threshold of Raintree Wineryâs guesthouse.
âWhat do you think?â Jase asked, motioning to the exposed beams, the empty living room with a native stone fireplace and kitchen and dining area beyond. The golden polished flooring, the rough plastered walls and the birch cabinets she could glimpse in the kitchen added lightness to the space already glowing with sunlight from the windows.
Amy burrowed into her motherâs side and Sara crouched down, hanging her arm around her daughterâs shoulders. âIsnât this pretty?â
Amy just poked her finger into her mouth and looked down at her sneakers.