Promises to Keep by Patricia Sands Page A

to the fireplace. They shut the French doors to the terrace tightly behind them.
    “It’s our first daube de sanglier of the season. Just for you,” Hélène whispered, her pride evident as she set Kat’s plate down.
    Philippe discreetly leaned over and murmured, “Wild boar. Don’t worry, it will be delicious.”
    The aromas of garlic and red wine floating up from her plate left Kat no doubt he was right.
    “Christian and a party from the village were hunting last week, and this was his quarry,” Marie told Kat with evident pride.
    The conversation turned to that expedition, with talk about the meal—which was part of the hunt tradition—they had eaten at midday at a small country inn.
    “It always comes back to the food and wine, doesn’t it?” Kat remarked to Joy, who simply smiled and nodded.
    Conversation and laughter flew around the table. Oncle François’s face was filled with happiness during the extended lunch, but he did not say much. Katherine looked forward to spending some quiet time with him. She was very fond of him and remembered her surprise when she had learned that this apparently simple goat herder was also a wealthy businessman. It had been a good lesson in not making snap judgments about people.
    Kat was pleased with how well she could now follow the conversation and even participate in French. But there were still moments when one small error on her part brought it to a halt while everyone, laughing gently in support, tried to work out precisely what it was she meant. Kat laughed along with the rest. She had learned that having her mistakes corrected was an excellent way to learn the language.
    At the end of the meal, coffee and a warm tarte aux pommes were served in the cozy salon.
    François sat down by the roaring fire and, after catching Kat’s attention, patted the chair next to him. She felt quite emotional as she bent to bise him. He took her hand, his lips lightly brushing its back. She was so fond of this kind, gentle man. He had changed her life in Paris in June with his advice that no one should hold back from deciding among the choices our short lives offer us.
    “ Eh bien , my beautiful Katherine, tell me all your joys. I believe my nephew is passionately in love with you, and if you love him the same way, you are making this old man très heureux .”
    Kat blushed, and François, smiling, lightly waved his trembling hand. They spoke quietly for some time until Joy joined them to say that a walk through the vineyard was being organized.
    “ Allez, ma chère. It’s a fine day for a walk, and time for my nap. We will see each other later.”
    Philippe joined them to tell Kat he would drive François home while she joined the others for the walk. “I’ll stay with him for a while and see if there is anything I can do before I come back. He’s doing well, but he’s still a bit fragile, as you can see.”
    He kissed her forehead. “I can see how happy you are to be back here.”
    She nodded, “It feels good—like family.”
    Katherine ran up to her room to change into her walking shoes. She was thankful for the heavy sweater she had purchased earlier in the week, and hoped the box of warm clothes would soon arrive that she had asked Molly to send. Joy had let her know in advance that a walk would probably be on the agenda, saying, “We take advantage of these cool autumn days before rain and mistral arrive. In the summer, it’s often too hot or everyone is busy with something else. It will be perfect weather for a good hike when we are all together.”
    They set off at a brisk pace, walking through the vineyard and along a well-trodden path in the forest beyond.
    Picasso led the way with enthusiasm whenever he wasn’t over to the side investigating some intriguing scent.
    Kat remarked to Joy that the landscape seemed calm compared to her previous visit, when everyone had been harvesting grapes and all the roads, big and small, had been buzzing with tractors and trucks