Shirley, Goodness and Mercy (Angels Everywhere #4)(10)

The younger of the two Bennett boys had shown a talent for the business, but Matthias had been the one to teach him about grapes, about wine making, about operating an estate winery. Greg’s father, John Bennett, had lived for the vineyard, to the point that it had destroyed his marriage. But he’d been impatient with the boy, an ineffective teacher.

A few years after Greg had joined Bennett Wines, John had died, and Greg had taken over. From that point on, Matthias had advised Greg, guided him and helped him expand enough to buy out his brother’s share. Matthias had treated Greg as he would have treated his own son, if he’d had one. He’d shared everything with Greg Bennett, his skills and ideas, his enthusiasm for viticulture and wine making, his friendship. That was what made the betrayal so painful, so devastating. Mary’s illness was an almost intolerable blow, but Greg’s refusal to help them—that had been, in a way, an even greater blow.

Mary had loved Greg, too. Many nights she’d insisted Greg join them for dinner. She’d opened her home and her heart to Greg, and when she needed him, he’d said no. Neither bonds of family nor friendship, neither obligation nor gratitude, had influenced his decision.

“What about Greg?” Matthias asked now.

“He was in San Francisco looking for a loan.”

So Greg’s vineyard had been hit by fan leaf disease. Matthias had suspected as much, but hadn’t heard. “Did he get one?”

Harry paused for effect. “Not a dime.”

“Good.”

“I thought you’d like hearing that.”

Matthias did, but not nearly as much as he’d hoped. All his energy was focused on doing what he could to help his daughter and grandson. For fifteen years his hatred of Greg Bennett had simmered, until it’d burned a hole straight through his heart. He couldn’t forgive or forget, but his hatred no longer dominated every waking moment.

“You always said time wounds all heels.”

Matthias grinned. Actually, Mary had been the one to say that.

“He’s going to lose everything.”

“It’s what he deserves,” Matthias said without emotion. The younger man had laid the foundation of his own troubles. If anything, Matthias was grateful he’d lived long enough to witness Bennett’s downfall.

“I bet you think he should rot in hell,” Harry said, and when Matthias didn’t comment, his friend spoke again. “Hey, I hate the guy, too. Everyone does—although not as much as you do.” He chuckled. “Well, I better get back to my morning coffee.”

“Thanks for the call.”

“Talk to you later,” Harry said. A moment later, the line was disconnected.

Matthias appreciated knowing of Greg’s financial problems. Fan leaf, a virus, had indiscriminately infected a number of vineyards in both the Sonoma and Napa valleys. Owners had been forced to tear out formerly productive vines and start anew, a prospect that was both time-consuming and expensive. Many of the small and medium-sized wineries in the two valleys were in danger of going under, Greg’s included.

Mostly retired, Matthias needed something to occupy his time. In recent years he’d been working with local vineyard owners who were trying to grow vines resistant to the fan leaf virus before it had the same devastating results in Washington as in California.

Standing next to the phone, Matthias realized he should be dancing at the news about the disaster at Bennett Wines. A year ago, even six months ago, he would have been thrilled at the thought of Greg’s troubles. Revenge was said to be a dish best eaten cold, and he’d certainly waited long enough to have it served to him. But he experienced damn little of the pleasure he’d anticipated. He’d wanted Greg to suffer the same agony that had tormented him as he stood by his wife’s bedside.

The vineyard was everything to Greg, just as Matthias’s only grandchild had become everything to him. And this time, they were both going to lose what they loved most.

“That is so sad,” Mercy said, sitting on the edge of the counter in Matthias’s kitchen. “Just look at him.”

“He’s worried sick about his grandson.”

“What’s going to happen to the boy?” Both Goodness and Mercy turned to Shirley.

“Do I look like I have a crystal ball?” Shirley asked irritably.

“I don’t know about you two.” Goodness reclined on the long counter. “But I was hoping for something a little less stressful during this visit to earth. We’re assigned to a guy who’s a real jerk. Someone who couldn’t care less about anyone except himself.”

“Yeah, but we’re here on earth, aren’t we?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I agree with you,” Shirley said, cutting in while the opportunity presented itself, “but we can help.”

“Where’s the fun? We got a human with his head so far up his—”

“Mercy!”

“A self-centered human,” she revised. “You know, I think I’d feel better if Catherine had torn him to shreds. She should never have forgiven him.”

“Mercy! Just listen to yourself.”

“Right, right,” she muttered, but Shirley could see that Greg was taking a toll on her friend’s compassion.

“He’s got too many problems for us to deal with,” Goodness complained.