The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(73)

“Wow. So it is serious, if you’re gonna...unleash the Kraken and all that.” Sure, she loved her family, but en masse, they could be a little terrifying.

“Yeah.”

Faith grinned. “This is great, Honor. I’m so happy for you.”

“Just don’t say anything yet, okay? To Dad or Jack or anyone. You’re the only one I’m telling for now.”

Faith paused. Honor, confiding in her. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks, Faithie.”

It had been a long time since Honor had called her that.

Her sister seemed to snap out of her fog. “I need to get back to work. I’ll see you when I get home. If you need any help with the party, let me know.” She paused. “I went up to the barn the other day, and it’s really beautiful, Faith.”

And now a compliment! Whoever this guy was, Faith would have to thank him. “Thanks,” she said, her voice a little husky. “Well. Have a good trip. Call me if you want. You know. Just to chat.”

“If I have a second, I will.” Honor smiled and began typing again.

Faith left the office and went back down the hall to the tasting room, which was now empty. She saw Ned through the window, putting a case of wine into the couple’s car. Good. A quiet moment.

That was—by far—the most intimate and friendly conversation she’d had with Honor in nineteen years. Maybe, now that Honor had more in her life than the vineyard and Dad’s care and feeding, they’d be close. Maybe...just maybe...Honor would finally forgive her for Mom.

Honor never could talk about the accident. Dad had held Faith at the hospital, rocking her, telling her she wasn’t to blame, she couldn’t help having a seizure. Jack had been horribly gentle and kind, saying at least Faith hadn’t died, too, and Pru, who’d been in her twenties at the time, did her best to fill the maternal role for Faith. Everyone seemed to recognize the terrible cost of being alone in the car with her dead mother; Faith had had nightmares for a year, had even wet the bed a time or two, hadn’t talked much for months. She didn’t have to do homework for the rest of the school year. Everyone was kind...except Honor, whose eyes held a message that Faith could read all too well. You killed our mother. And the thing was, it was true, though Honor didn’t know to what extent.

But Honor was a good daughter. A martyr, sure, but completely solid with their dad. Faith may have been Daddy’s little girl, but Honor had been Mom’s favorite, always more mature, more adult than the rest of them, despite being third out of four. She and Mom had had a special bond, and after Mom died, it seemed like Honor couldn’t bear to be in the same room with Faith.

But maybe this was a turning point. Maybe—just maybe—Faith could get her sister to like her again.

When her tasting room duties were finished, Faith spied her father, who was sampling the homemade wine Gerard Chartier had brought him for his opinion. “Not bad,” John said. “Nice with a rare steak.” Blue circled, dropping his ratty tennis ball suggestively. Dad picked it up and tossed it without pausing in his discussion of the different kinds of yeast Gerard could use. Dear old Dad. With his baseball cap, aging flannel shirt and purple-stained hands, he wasn’t the most dapper of men, but he was certainly the best.

“I see my little princess over there,” Dad said finally.

“Hi, little princess,” Gerard called with a grin.

“Hi, Gerard,” she said. “Save any lives lately?”

“No, but I can carry you down a ladder if you want,” he said.

“Don’t tempt me. Dad, got a sec? I wanted to show you the barn.”

“You bet, baby. See you, Gerard.” Her father picked up Blue’s hideous ball and held it high. “Who loves his ball? Do you love your ball?” he said, causing Blue to freeze with elation at the word. Dad threw the disgusting thing past the storage barn, and Blue streaked off, caught it midbounce and returned immediately.

“He could play for the Yankees,” Dad observed.

“Can’t hit to save his life,” Faith said. “So, uh, did Levi tell you about how good Blue was when I had my seizure?” she asked. Sure, it was a blatant attempt to bring up his name, but no one else was as unsuspecting as dear old Dad when it came to being pumped for information. She hadn’t seen Levi since he’d kissed her the other night. Hadn’t heard him out in the hall, either. Had stopped short of pressing a glass against his door, but only just.

“He did. Said Blue came to get him. Who’s a good boy? Huh? Do you love Faithie? Do you love her? You do?”

There was something about Blue that made everyone a cheerful idiot, Faith observed as her father put the ball in his own mouth. “Dad. So gross.”

He took the ball out and threw it up the hill. “So I finally get to see this place,” he said, putting his arm around her as they walked.

“You haven’t been sneaking peeks, have you?” The final week was when a project really took shape, and Faith had wanted to surprise her father.

“No, sweetpea. I have three daughters. I’m excellent at following orders.”

They hiked up the hill, past the golden-leafed vines, up to the cemetery. Dad took off his hat and put his hand on the granite of his wife’s headstone. “Hey, Connie,” he said, his voice so full of love that Faith felt tears prick her eyes. “We all miss you so much, honey.”