The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

the iPad, tucked her feet up under her, and read more from the website. “The winery had a successful launch of a new chardonnay a couple of years ago. The wine is called Cailean. I’ve seen the wine at the liquor store but haven’t tasted it.”

“Cailean means child in Gaelic.”

She cocked her head in surprise. “Do you speak the language?”

“Gaelic, Latin, Italian, Spanish, and French.”

She wanted to ask him to translate the inscription on the brooch, but she didn’t dare. They’d start arguing again.

“Jack’s also a polyglot. He can’t speak Gaelic, but he can speak the other ones, plus Greek, Japanese, and German.”

Jack entered the room, heading straight for the liquor cabinet. “And a little bit of Russian.” He poured a drink. “I just got off the phone with my agent. She wants me in Atlanta tomorrow for two days. I’ll have a car pick me up in the morning. Which means you can drive mine home and leave your car for Braham to practice with.”

She gave Jack a brief, shocked laugh. “You can’t leave Braham here by himself. He can come to Richmond and stay with me.”

Braham rattled the ice in his glass. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a number of years. I can manage. Besides, I want to learn to drive, which I can’t do safely in the city.”

She removed a blue-patterned scrunchie from her long ponytail, finger-combed her hair, pulled it together, and then looped the tie around her hair again. Fiddling with her hair gave her a minute to think instead of spitting out her first response—I’m not leaving you by yourself.

“You just got out of the hospital and should have a caregiver close by. I’d stay here, but I’m on call for the next two nights.”

“If you’re working during the day and on call at night, what’s the difference? He’d still be alone.”

“The difference is I’d only be five minutes away.”

“It’s only two days. He can manage.”

“Oh bloody hell, Jack. Stop thinking about what’s most convenient for you and think about your guest.”

“I am, sis. Braham would much rather stay here where he’s familiar with his surroundings than spend two days stuck in your house where he can’t even see the river. Right?” Jack said, glancing at Braham.

Braham cocked his brow. “Right.”

Jack winked at Charlotte. “See? Told you.” He sipped his drink. “Now, what did I hear about a winery?”

She sighed, shaking her head. Sometimes it was pointless to argue with her brother. He could bulldoze his way up, down, and all around her. If she was going to be home she’d have a better argument, but she had a full schedule, so she accepted defeat and moved on.

“Braham’s friend started a winery in Napa,” she said. “It’s still in existence and is operated by his descendants. It boasts the longest continuous operation of any winery in the country.”

Jack gave her a broad smile. “A long weekend in the wine country would be nice. I can schedule a book signing to make the trip tax deductible.” He tossed back his drink. “I’ll check my calendar later, but right now I’ve got work to finish. I’ll be in my office.”

“Would you like to visit the winery?” Charlotte asked Braham.

He gave an agitated sigh and took a long swallow of his drink. “Maybe. Is there any more information about the man she married or his farm?”

Charlotte Googled Elliott Fraser. “He breeds Thoroughbreds and owns MacKlenna Farm in Lexington, Kentucky. The farm is a three-thousand-acre Thoroughbred breeding and training facility established in 1790. Wow. Impressive. The farm has also had several Kentucky Derby and Triple Crown winners.”

Jack returned to the library. “Did you say MacKlenna Farm?”

“If you’re going to eavesdrop, why don’t you stay in here?” Charlotte said.

“I can’t, really. But did you say MacKlenna Farm?”

“Have you heard of it?”

“I met Elliott Fraser and Sean MacKlenna several years ago when I went to the Kentucky Derby. You had an emergency and couldn’t get away. I’m glad you didn’t go. Fraser would have hit on you. The guy is a drinker and a player.”

“Not anymore,” Charlotte said.

Jack scooted the cat out of the way and sat down next to Charlotte. “Guys like him don’t change. Let me see his picture.”

Charlotte clicked on several pictures of Elliott with his wife and child. “This isn’t the face of a womanizer.”

“Does it say anything about the farm’s stallions?” Braham asked.

“The stallion with the smallest stud fee, five thousand dollars, is an eight-year-old named Stormy.” Jack whistled. “What a horse. Look at this picture.” He held up the iPad, showing off a magnificent stallion with three white stockings.

Braham took the iPad from Jack with a shaking hand. “I’d let this horse service my finest mare any day of the week. He’s a winner.” Braham handed back the iPad and poured another drink. “What time do ye leave in the morning?”

“The car will be here at six,” Jack said. “I’ve got an early flight.”

“I’ll be up before ye leave,” Braham said. “I don’t want to miss a cup of yer coffee.”

“You can at least show him how to make it himself,” Charlotte said.

“Oh, he knows. He prefers to have it ready when he comes into the kitchen in the morning. He can’t stay at your house. You don’t even have a coffeepot.”

“I don’t need one. There’s a Starbucks at the corner.”

Jack shook his head. “Sad.”

“I’m turning in. It’s been a long day. Good night,” Braham said.

“Hey, if you need cash while I’m gone, there’s a little bit in the top drawer of my desk.”

Charlotte laughed. “It’s his pizza delivery money.”

“Glad to know. The pizza we had yesterday for lunch was good.” He left the room, and a minute later they heard his bedroom door close.

“He had a rough day,” Charlotte said. “You should have seen him at the Lincoln Memorial. It was heartbreaking.”

“Then you were the best person to be with him.”

“Not necessarily,” Charlotte said. “I wish I knew what he was thinking. He’s a very private person.”

Jack enlarged the picture of