Perfect

He laughed, but more out of nervousness. "Fair enough. It was probably a bit forward of me anyway."

Martin helped me hoist Kit Kat's saddle on him, then helped me cinch it. I put his bridle on, then Martin helped hoist me up. He handed me my helmet.

He got on his horse, a beautiful white dappled Appaloosa, and came astride me.

"Shall we go?" he asked.

"Lead the way," I said deferentially. He started with a slow gait so we could get comfortable and to give me an opportunity to look around.

"You have a lovely property," I said, not at all exaggerating.

"Thanks," he said, his back to me.

We proceeded down a gravel path. I could see a large flower garden in the distance. There was a woman in a wide brimmed straw hat kneeling next to one of the beds, clipping a rose bush. There were roses everywhere in every color.

"Gretch!" Martin cried out, loud enough to be heard fifty feet away.

The woman rose from her kneeling position and stood up. She was tall and thin, wearing a stained white v-neck t-shirt and torn jeans. Her braless breasts were prominent, though that wasn't her intention in wearing the garment. She used her right hand to lift up the brim of her hat. The pale white skin of her face had smudges of dirt on it, as did her hands and work clothes. Sunlight filtered through her delicate strawberry blonde hair. Her eyes were a brilliant blue. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

"Gretch," Martin said again, practically jumping off his horse. He gave her a massive hug, lifting her off her feet.

"I wasn't expecting to see you," she said, making it clear that his visit wasn't exactly welcome, especially since she wasn't wearing clothes appropriate to meet guests.

"I didn't think you'd be back from San Francisco this early."

"Lawyers and accountants," she said to him, "they bore me to tears." Her voice had the timbre of a young Maggie Smith.

Martin grinned at her. I think he forgot I was sitting on my horse behind him.

"So how did it go?" He sounded anxious. She didn't.

"Fine. We got the financing. They loved our plans for the new winery."

"That's great," said Martin, obviously pleased and relieved. Then he realized his faux pas. "Where are my manners?" He turned to me, his face a bit embarrassed. "This is Jamie."

I stepped off Kit Kat and stood next to Martin and across from Gretchen. It was hard for me not to look at her breasts, though she didn't seem the least bit self-conscious.

"Jamie," she said, repeating my name as if she was committing it to memory. Her saying my name sent a chill up my spine. "So pleased to meet you."

Her blue eyes, the color of the ocean off a tropical island, were so soft and inviting ... I felt caressed by them as she looked at me. I could have sworn my heart skipped a beat.

"Martin told me all about you."

I looked at Martin, surprised. My mouth felt suddenly dry. "He did?" I said hoarsely. I swallowed.

"Of course. Martin tells me everything. He likes you."

"Does he?" I asked, prodding her.

"Of course he does. I don't think I've ever seen Martin invite a woman to go riding with him. I rarely can talk him into riding with me." She laughed, and the subtle movement she made when she tossed her head back made me smile. There was an inner beauty to her as well.

"Don't you let me keep you from your ride." She bent down to put her work gloves back on her delicate hands.

"Do you want to come with us?" asked Martin. "We're going up to the reservoir. I got some wine and cheese in my saddlebag."

"I don't want to interfere," she said, probably thinking that was the end of it.

"I'd like you to come," I blurted out, surprising myself.

Martin took my encouragement as innocent. "See?" he said. "Jamie wants you to come."

Gretchen was already kneeling, deadheading a rose bush. There were rose petals all around her and the fragrance of a dozen varieties swirling around her. I'd never been attracted to a woman, but I was intensely attracted to her. My attraction felt natural, which should have come as a surprise to me but didn't.

I was mesmerized by her, and realized that Martin was talking to me.

" ... Jamie ... Jamie ...". I came out of my trance and looked at him.

"Jamie, hey," he said, somewhat concerned and somewhat annoyed.

"Sorry ... sorry ... ". I had no excuse for my rudeness.

He shook his head and remounted his horse.

I struggled to get back up on Kit Kat, as I was unsteady on my feet. When I sat upright in the saddle I looked down at her, seeing only the brim of her hat. She must have sensed that I was looking at her, and tipped her head back so I could again drink in her blue eyes. Somehow I knew I would fall in love with her. I wondered if she felt the same.

* * *

"Gretchen's beautiful," I couldn't help telling Martin. We were riding side by side under the hot midday sun.

He sighed. "If I only had a nickel every time I've heard that ...". Apparently he had heard this compliment before. "She's the good looking one," he said wistfully. "I'd like to say that she got the looks and I got the brains, but unfortunately in this case she got both."

"No ... no ... Martin, you're good looking," I said reassuringly. He was, but he didn't realize it.

"Right ... if you say so ... but Gretch gets all the comments." He was right about that. He was handsome, but Gretchen was stunning, even wearing her work clothes.

"Is she ..." I said, leaving Martin to fill in the rest, as I was embarrassed to be asking this question when I didn't even know her.

" ... married? Or with someone?" said Martin, completing my question.

"No ... Gretchen isn't interested in marriage. If she hadn't told me, I wouldn't have known she was a lesbian."

Lesbian? Was I expecting that? My brain was becoming muddled.

I was glad that the trail narrowed so we had to ride single file. Martin led the way up a winding trail to a reservoir that his family built as a holding pond for the irrigation of their vineyards. It was large enough to have a small wooden dock. There was a heavily weathered rowboat tethered to it. Cattails had grown on the edge of the pond and ducks were swimming in the middle. Martin and I hitched our horses to a convenient post and made our way down to a small grassy area near the beginning of the dock. Martin cast a blanket on the warm grass.

"A little refreshment?" he asked, but not waiting for my answer, he produced a bottle of wine, two plastic wine glasses, and a plastic wrapped plate with a variety of cheeses and crackers. He expertly cut the foil on the bottle and pulled the cork. He poured the first glass for me.

"It's a bottle we made from the vineyard right below the one we're selling to you. 2017. It was the year of the big fire, but we were lucky enough to have harvested our grapes a week before the fire. Some of our neighbors weren't so lucky, and the smoke tainted their grapes."

I tried to swirl the wine in a plastic glass and failed. A bit of it sloshed over the top.

"Oops." I said at my clumsiness.

"Allow me." Martin grabbed a paper napkin and took my hand, dabbing the wine off of it. He clasped my hand for a moment before I pulled it away. He looked surprised at my action, but said nothing. I recovered and took a sip of the wine. It was excellent, and the setting was magnificent, but my unexpected introduction to Gretchen clearly threw me off balance.

We shared the cheese platter in an awkward silence, making small talk that did little to quell the tension created by my rebuff to his minor advance.

Martin was gazing out over the reservoir when I decided to ask about Gretchen.

"I guess Gretchen stuck to her gardening." Somehow I thought she'd come riding up at any moment.

Martin shook his head. "No ... that wouldn't be like her to leave her gardening. I told you. It's hard to pry her out to do anything." He looked at me, trying to gauge the reaction on my face.

I tried to remain expressionless, as if it was just a passing observation. In truth, I was hoping that she would have come.

"She seems like an interesting person ..." I mused, trying to keep the discussion as low key as possible.

"Interesting ...". Martin chuckled. "That's one way to put it. I've heard many more colorful descriptors for her."

I couldn't resist the follow-up. "Such as?"

"Such as ... cold ... distant ... a loner. Does that paint the picture?"

It did. But that wasn't the person I met. I saw her as warm and inviting.

"Yes ... I get it," I acknowledged.

"I love her dearly, but she's usually off in her own world."

* * *

The remainder of the ride back was uneventful. It was still a lovely afternoon, but my minor rebuff was still lurking in the background as we talked. We dismounted next to the barn, a bit hot and sweaty from the ride, and let our horses eat some hay and get water before my trip back.

We were leaning with our backs against the rolled aluminum rails of the corral, watching the horses drink from the large oval trough. Martin was next to me and casually put his arm around me. I didn't move, which encouraged him to pull me closer to him.

"I really like you," he started. Yesterday I would have welcomed his affection, but somehow it stirred nothing inside me. He was waiting for my reply.

"I like you too, Martin." I did like him. He was a wonderful person. He was selfless in the cave. His equipment saved our wine cellar. He planned an entertaining day for us. And for that I was grateful. I just wasn't attracted to him.

We watched the horses prancing around the corral. Clearly the easy ride didn't burn off all of their excess energy.

"I'd like to come back tomorrow," I said, breaking the silence.

"Really?"

"I'd like to look at the land again. In the late afternoon. To see the positioning of the sun and hopefully to experience the ocean breeze coming through the Petaluma Gap."

"Sure ... sure. That should be fine. Say around 4?"

"That would be great. Thank you."

We loaded my gear back in the trailer, then I led Kit Kat back in his stall. I closed the latch on the trailer door.

"Martin, thanks for the ride and the snacks. You have a beautiful property."

He stood next to me, leaning against the trailer. His hand came up and captured a lock of my hair. He twirled it around a finger. Our eyes met, and his head came closer, clearly for a goodbye kiss. At the last moment I turned my head so his lips met my cheek.

"Thank you for coming Jamie. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed myself." His voice tried to hide his disappointment.

I pulled away from him and gave him a small wave before getting into the truck.

* * *

Dad of course was waiting for me when I got home. He was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. I think Mom was in her sewing room, so Dad had a free pass for the afternoon.

"So how'd it go?"

"Good. They have a great property."

Dad smiled. "You know that's not what I was asking Kitten."

I didn't want to disappoint Dad as well, but I didn't want to lie to him either. "I like Martin." I must have said it in a way that didn't glow with affection.

"Like?" he asked.

My body language was clearly showing a lack of interest. I decided to come clean. "Dad, I really like him, but I don't think it's going to go anywhere."

Dad was smart enough not to press further. There was nothing to be gained, as he knew anything he said wasn't going to change my mind.

"I am going back tomorrow."

"Oh?"

"I wanted to see the vineyard in the late afternoon to see the angle of the sun, and also hopefully to experience the breeze coming through the Gap."

"Right," he answered. I sounded like I was at a business meeting, so he had already lost interest.

* * *

I couldn't sleep. My mind kept churning. How could I be attracted to Martin's sister? How was this possible? I was still trying to sort out my feelings for Martin when I met Gretchen. She turned my world on its head. I didn't want to feel this way. This was a far worse feeling than anything I'd ever experienced.

I was pacing in the hallway and noticed a band of light under Emily's door. I knocked softly.

"Em ... it's me," I whispered into the door.

"Jamie?" I don't know why she sounded so surprised.

I opened the door. She had just taken a shower and was sitting on the bed, nude, with her legs crossed, painting her toenails, with wet hair touching her knees. She looked up at me, obviously surprised to see me. We didn't confide in one another, so my late night appearance was a new experience for both of us. Emily still had a killer body at thirty, even after having a baby. She had nothing but trouble with men since she turned eighteen, and Derek was the icing on the cake. I told her once that she was a shit magnet. My comment, though accurate, was not well received by her.

She studied my face. "Guy trouble?"

"No," I answered. She pondered my answer, now sitting up and abandoning her toenail polish. "I know that look. It's a lovesick look. I saw it on a lot of faces when I was in high school."

She was probably right. That feeling in the pit of my stomach was nothing more than a teenage crush. My usually confident self was absent. I was cast into a sea of doubt without a compass. Em had her share of love-induced angst and might be able to give me some direction..

"Promise you won't tell?" I asked, not at all certain of her answer.

"Of course not," she replied instantly, her tone suggesting she was insulted by my even having to ask.

Satisfied, I said in confidence, "No ... it's girl trouble."

"Oh ...". That took her by surprise. "I didn't take you for ... ummm ... a rug muncher."

I guess I didn't tell you that Emily could be crude. I sluffed off the rude remark. "It's not like that ... we haven't yet ...".

"Oh ... I see ... you haven't had sex with this woman but you're attracted to her."

I couldn't look at her. It was an embarrassing conversation to have with anyone. It was even more difficult given it was my little sister.

"You haven't had sex with any woman, have you?"

I finally looked at her. I'm sure my eyes gave her the answer.

"Woah. Looks like my big sister has really gotten herself into a mess." She got off the bed to put on a robe. She did have a perfect body, and for the first time I was envious.

"So how did this happen?" she asked as she tied the belt on her robe.

"I've just started seeing Martin Striler, and ..."

"You mean the Striler's who own a shit ton of vineyards?" she said, interrupting me.

"Yes, those Strilers."

"Nice ... so what's happened?"

"He wanted to kiss me, and probably more, but I didn't feel attracted to him. I like him ... but I'm not attracted to him sexually."

She went back to painting her toenails. I could see that she was shaved down there. I considered myself handsome, not attractive, but Emily? Men were attracted to her like flies to honey. Maybe that kind of beauty was a curse. She pondered her answer as she applied another coat of red polish.

"So have you talked to him about this?"

"No. I'm talking to you about this."

"I'd talk to him. These kinds of things can't fester. Believe me. I've procrastinated in sharing my feelings, and the delay just makes things worse."

This I believed. Emily had a knack for making things worse. She was the voice of experience.

"I will. What should I say?"

"Just be truthful. Tell him that you really like him, but there isn't a spark there."

"Do you think he'll understand?"

"He'll have to. You can't make someone be attracted to you when they're not."

"True."

"So who's the woman?"

"His sister, Gretchen."

She gave a low whistle. "No shit ... his sister?" Given what she'd been through, I gathered she was not easily shocked. She was shocked.

"Yes ... his sister," I confirmed to her unbelieving ears.

She sat up straight. "You know I've had strange stuff happen to me," she started. Of course that was true. You didn't earn black sheep status in the family without astounding acts of stupidity. I think that Lizzie was the one of the few good things that happened in her life.

"But this ... this is some truly fucked up shit."

Coming from Emily, that was saying something. It gave me pause as to the path I was following. I had no idea what I was doing.

"Hmmm ... I guess I should take a step back, I'm a bit over my head here."

"I'll say. I don't ever remember you having a boyfriend."

We sat there for a moment. I could hear the bathroom fan running.

"So tell me about Gretchen."

"I've only met her once."

"Once? And for that, you're willing to declare for the other team?"

"It's not that simple. I really haven't had any luck with men." Now I was delving deeper into my soul. Something I hadn't done with anyone. "And now I know why."

"Why?"

"I only spent a few minutes with her, but visually, and I guess spiritually, I felt an instant connection with her. Something I've never felt before."

"I've had that feeling many times ... and it seemed like it always ended in disaster," she lamented to me. It looked like we were both being truthful.

"That's what I'm afraid of. I don't even know if she likes me."

"Is she even interested in women?"

"Martin told me she's a lesbian."

"Well, at least you have that going for you."

"What's she like?"

"She's the most beautiful woman I've even seen. Striking. My knees felt weak when I saw her."

"Mouth went dry?"

"Yes ... how did you ...?"

"Been there."

"She seemed so confident ... self-assured ... and there was something about her ... it's what I can't put my finger on ... why I was instantly attracted to her. I've never been attracted to a woman before."

It was strange making a confession to Em, my little sister who I'd always scorned, but I was talking through something that couldn't be solved with heavy equipment or money, the way I've solved my other problems.

"You need to listen to your heart, not your head. I know it's gotten me in a lot of trouble, but I'll tell you that your head doesn't understand love. It's not a rational act. Love gets everyone into trouble ... look at me ... but it's also the most amazing feeling in the world."

I was at the pinnacle of my career in the wine industry. Yet that standing seemed trivial in comparison to matters of the heart. Broken sump pumps worried me during the day, but they never kept me up at night like my chance encounter with Gretchen. Two minutes with her, and the ripples had already upset what I thought was a perfect life.

"Talk to Martin ... and then find out if Gretchen feels the same way about you. This is the first time the prospect of true love has come to your door. You need to answer it."

I sat on the bed behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She tilted her head back, making a human purring noise.

I think it was my first true display of affection for my Emily. I'd always viewed her as a shallow self-centered bitch. There was much more to her than that, and I was sorry I hadn't given her the chance.

I hugged her. Her wet hair pressed against my cheek. "Thanks little sister."

Her head was on my shoulder. "Don't mention it, big sister."

Perhaps I'd been mistaken about Emily altogether.

* * *

The following day dragged on. My mind was so preoccupied with my late afternoon trip to the Striler residence that I must have absentmindedly sleepwalked through my routine. I don't remember much about that day until it came time to get ready.

I finished taking a shower and wondered what I'd wear for my "meeting" with Martin. Like most people, I fastidiously avoided confrontation whenever possible, and the prospect of telling him that I wasn't interested in him, but rather his sister, made me dread the visit.

I ran through scenarios in my head about what I'd say and how Martin would react. None of them came out well. Even though Emily's counsel was spot on, actually speaking the words I needed to say was unfathomable to me. I'd never been comfortable dealing with matters of the heart, yet I was to let him down slowly by telling him that that I was attracted to his sister? How does a man take a message like that? My stomach was already tied in knots.