Hidden Talents

distance, she turned a corner and found herself confronting a group of people who, she guessed, were all Ventresses. Taken as a group, it was easy to see the family resemblance. They were a tall, dark-haired lot who carried themselves with the self-assurance and poise that came naturally to a proud, established clan. She took a deep breath and tried to recall the techniques she had developed for dealing with faculty parties at Bullington College.
    “Hello,” she said to the room at large.
    A hush fell on the small crowd. Everyone turned to look at her.
    Caleb was standing at the window talking quietly to a silver-haired man who could only have been his grandfather. He turned his head at once at the sound of her voice. His eyes pinned her across the distance of the room.
    “Sir, this is Serenity Makepeace. Serenity, my grandfather, Roland Ventress.”
    “How do you do, Mr. Ventress?” Serenity smiled as she examined the older man with interest.
    Caleb had told her that his grandfather was celebrating his eighty-second birthday, but there was an air of vigor about him that would have done credit to a much younger man. He was almost as tall as Caleb. There was no hint of a stoop to his shoulders from a lifetime of ranch work. His eyes, which were brown instead of gray like Caleb's were sharp and alert.
    “Miss Makepeace.” Roland inclined his head in an old-fashioned manner. His voice was laced with an easy western drawl. “Glad you could join us. Allow me to introduce you to my family.” He nodded toward a handsome but rather severe-looking middle-aged woman dressed in a navy-blue knit suit and blue and white pumps.
    “This is my niece, Phyllis Tarrant.”
    “How do you do, Miss Makepeace,” Phyllis said with cool politeness. She examined Serenity with a vaguely disapproving expression.
    Roland indicated the stout man standing next to Phyllis. “Her husband, Howard. He's in real estate.”
    Serenity nodded politely. “Mr. Tarrant.”
    Howard bobbed his head and smiled benignly.
    “My nephew, Franklin Ventress,” Roland continued. “Chairman of the board of the Ventress Valley Bank. His wife, Beverly.”
    Serenity smiled and then shot a quick, repressive look at Caleb. He had not mentioned that his family was in banking. Caleb lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug.
    “Miss Makepeace. So glad you could come with Caleb,” Beverly said with the gracious charm that Serenity had once associated with professional faculty wives.
    Franklin, a distinguished-looking man in his fifties, had no doubt been devastatingly attractive in his younger years. He had the dark eyes that characterized most of the family. His once black hair was almost all silver. “Miss Makepeace.”
    “Mr. Ventress.”
    Franklin took over the introductions. “Howard and Phyllis's daughter Jessica, and her husband Sam. Sam is a partner in a local law firm. The two youngsters over there are their kids.”
    Serenity nodded, struggling to keep all the introductions straight. She grinned at the children, who appeared to be five and seven, respectively. They giggled.
    Franklin's eyes reflected paternal pride as he nodded toward a handsome man of about thirty. “My own son, Peter. He and his wife Laura, here, operate the Ventress Vineyards Winery. You may have heard of the label. Their cabernets have taken gold medals for the past three years.”
    “Yes, of course,” Serenity lied cheerfully. “Congratulations.”
    Peter grinned. “Thanks. We're quite pleased. Ventress Vineyards is a relative newcomer to the wine scene, but we feel we've gotten off to a good start.”
    “Thanks to Caleb.” Laura, attractive with tawny hair and blue eyes, smiled. “He oversaw the start-up of our winery. Caleb's very good at that kind of thing.”
    “Yes, I know,” Serenity murmured. She smiled at Laura and the others and mentally added up the total thus far. Real estate, banking, law, a winery, an Arabian stud farm, and a town named after the family. She took another deep breath and hoped her personal version of Miss Town & Country was measuring up.
    “Sherry or whiskey, Serenity?” Caleb went to a teak drinks cart and picked up a bottle.
    “Sherry, please.” She saw that Caleb had whiskey in his own glass. She was suddenly very conscious of the gaily wrapped package in her hand.
    “What's that?” Caleb asked as he crossed the room to hand her the glass.
    “A present for your grandfather.” She took a fortifying swallow of the sherry.