Napoleon, along with Cayhill and Darrow, got back into the Roadmaster and returned to Cat Spring to broker the land deal for which he had made the journey. Cayhill pulled up in front of a small business and stopped.
"Here we are Mr. Darrow." There was a level of politeness between these two not normally present in THRUSH relationships. Napoleon continued to be perplexed by them, by the situation and the happenstance of making Illya a tutor.
"Would it be inappropriate for me to ask what we're doing here?" It was, but Darrow's reply was, as has been cited, polite.
"Well Mr. Solo, I hardly think it is of interest to you, or to UNCLE for that matter. It is a purely personal venture of mine.' Buck hesitated before continuing.
"I am buying a piece of land in Cat Spring that will be the site of a new school for gifted children. There is not currently a program for the very bright students in this region, and I hope to establish a place for them to excel and gain preparation for a higher education."
Napoleon smiled, unable to find words that would neither offend nor congratulate this man from the world's most dangerous entity.
"You find it incompatible with what you know about me. I understand. I live in two worlds, Napoleon. One of them belongs to THRUSH, the other to me alone, and those whom I love and wish to serve." If Napoleon had been hit with a pie in the face he couldn't have been more surprised than he was with the words spoken by Buck Darrow.
"That is… hmmm… I am at a loss for words. You certainly do not conform to the usual profile." It was the best he could do.
"You mean for someone who works for THRUSH?" Darrow understood the conundrum, he lived it every day of his life. Napoleon smiled, shaking his head at the dichotomy being presented to him in the person of Buck Darrow.
"Yes, I suppose I do. Why? What does THRUSH offer you that you can't refuse, given your devotion to your child and, apparently, causes of some merit?" He couldn't let himself get pulled into this man's world. His assignment was to bring in Darrow and dismantle his organization.
Cayhill had rolled down the windows, letting in a whiff of air redundant with the wildflowers that seemed to be everywhere. Napoleon took note of a trio of boys on bicycles coming towards them, wondering if any of them would attend Darrow's new school.
"I need to get inside to my appointment. You two can stay here, the weather is nice enough and it is a beautiful day here in Cat Spring." Darrow got out of the car and headed into the real estate office, leaving Napoleon and Terrence Cayhill alone in the car.
"Don't judge Mr. Darrow on his THRUSH activities alone, Mr. Solo. He's a good man, and he takes care of people." Cayhill was obviously devoted to his boss, but not in that typical THRUSH manner of obsessive, deranged devotion.
"I can't ignore it. I … ' Napoleon didn't know what to say. He was still at the mercy of the man, although he didn't feel threatened in any way. He wondered how Illya and Sam were doing.
"I seem to be just along for the ride, for the time being." Cayhill nodded, then turned around in his seat to wait for Buck Darrow to return.
Frau Von Roeder was preparing the evening meal so that it would be ready when Mr. Darrow and his friends returned. She had escorted Samantha and her tutor, Herr Kuryakin, to the little study she kept ready for these visits. She and the blond conversed at length for several minutes after the others left for town; she enjoyed him for the sake of that, and was hopeful of seeing him often. Although born here in Texas, she had been raised by German speaking parents, and missed the sound of the language, and the familiarity of it now that they were gone. Herr Kuryakin, being fluent in German, refreshed her memory of those times when the house had been full of people, words flying through the rooms like birds in the air.
Illya and Samantha were deep into a study of Texas state history. Being himself not completely familiar with the topic, he was finding it an interesting foray into the state's wild and dramatic history. Samantha seemed full of trivial information about her home state.
"Did you know that President Johnson's father was born in Buda?' Illya shook his head while Sam kept going.
"And Frau Von Roedel's great-great-great… I forget how many greats; anyway, her family were the first people to live here in Cat Spring. And one of her relatives killed a puma, which is how the town got its name." She smiled at the end of her recitation of little known facts. She liked history, and people. She liked Mr. Kuryakin.
"You have an excellent memory Sam, and those are interesting tidbits of information." If Illya had to spend time under THRUSH detention, this was by far the best scenario he could imagine.
The aromas coming from the kitchen began to waft through the rooms, find their way to the study. Illya heard and felt his stomach growling, something that made Sam giggle.
"Haben sie Hunger?" It was Frau Von Roeder, and she seemed to be carrying the full strength of the mouth watering aromas in her large apron. She smiled a big toothy grin at the two young people, she was so delighted to have them here.
''Your papa and his friends are back from town, and supper is on the table. Go now, wash up and we will eat." Illya was more than ready, breakfast had been several hours past and they had missed lunch. "You are most kind, danke." She curtsied in reply, something that caught Samantha's eye and imagination.
Napoleon was first through the door, followed by Cayhill and then Darrow. Each of them was instructed to go and wash up before sitting at the big table. No one objected, each one did as he was told.
The routine of prayer was repeated here, just like at the house in Buda. This time it was recited in German, out of respect for their hostess. As the amens resounded around the table, the clatter of dishes and silverware filled the room as each one was passed a different platter or bowl.
"Ah, Frau Von Roeder, this is a beautiful meal, my favorites." Buck Darrow seemed truly pleased, and the woman received his praise with a smile and a slight blush. She had a great regard for this man, and loved the girl as though she were a granddaughter to the childless woman. These visits were one of the delights of her life.
"I haven't had Rouladen since I was last in Germany. This is delicious." Illya was impressed and grateful for a meal like this. The thinly sliced beef was wrapped around cooked pork belly, chopped onions and chopped pickles, smothered in a red wine sauce. Potato dumplings and coleslaw completed the dish, all of which he consumed before accepting a second helping.
The others ate as heartily as the Russian, making the lady of the house more pleased than she could have imagined. The dessert was no less delicious; Bienenstich, or Bee Sting Cake. The top was brushed with honey to create a crisp and sweet top to a brioche like cake filled with vanilla pudding. When they pushed away from the table it was with the satisfaction that only comes from having partaken of an excellent meal.
"Gentlemen, we are going to be traveling north tomorrow, up to Denison." Buck made the announcement as though each of them should have expected to continue this road trip. Only Illya and Napoleon were surprised by it, each of them still wondering when the proverbial shoe would drop, most probably on their heads.
"May I inquire as to what we will be doing in Denison?" Napoleon felt as though he could ask, so far there had been no repercussions to his inquiries.
"Well… ' Buck thought about it, deciding he might as well tell them.
"We have a project in Denison, well…' His face lit up with a smile, anticipating one of his favorite topics.
"More than a project really, we have winery in Denison. Five hundred acres of land, some of the finest vineyards in the United States. We're going to visit Denison and see to some of the business there."
So, another big surprise for the UNCLE agents, and the prospect of what would most likely turn out to be a pleasant stay in a Texas vineyard that produced, no doubt, world class wines.
"I look forward to it. And,' Illya looked at Sam and smiled,
"I suspect that Samantha will have more interesting facts to share with me about Denison." That made the girl blush a little, but her father seemed pleased. This was turning out better than he had hoped.
The night was spent in comfort beneath down filled comforters and finely crafted quilts. In the morning the entourage was on the road by seven, a basketful of pastries and fruit for the journey. It would be empty by the end of the five hour journey, as indication of the increasing sense of camaraderie inside the beautiful Roadmaster.
Denison, Texas was totally unexpected, a pleasant surprise to the two men in the second seat. The undulating hillsides were covered in vines ready to yield a crop of premium grapes for Darrow's winery. They went first to the main building, a low slung structure with a porch that fronted the entire fifty foot expanse of it. It was deep enough for tables and benches, and as the car pulled into a space beneath a towering oak tree, it was easy to see that some of the tables had been set with brightly colored plates and linens. As if on cue, several women started bringing out bowls and platters of food; a black man dressed in white carried a large galvanized bucket that would prove to hold several bottles of wine.
"Gentlemen, this is Darrow Cellars Winery.' He stretched his arms out to indicate the expanse of his holdings here, the heart of his empire.
"And this is my chef, Henri Aime´. He is Cajun, and his food is going to change your world." He slapped the chef on the back at which they both broke out in laughter. The affection between them was obvious, as well as a mutual respect that seemed to reflect their successes here at the winery.
"I have added plans for a restaurant in the near future, something to make this winery a destination. I think I am probably ahead of the times at this point, but then I never want to be the last to do a great thing, eh. Our master vintner, Alec Deneuve, is in Dallas and won't be returning until tomorrow. You will meet then."
Everyone went inside to wash up and take care of whatever needs were calling. Afterwards they all assembled outside on the porch, and sat down to the meal prepared for them by Chef Henri.
Sam was used to this, and she loved it here in Denison. It was, perhaps, her favorite stop on these little road trips she often took with her father.
"Okay Mr. Kuryakin, what do you know about Denison?" She was proud of her ability to list off the attributes of her home state, and she especially enjoyed stumping the blond who seemed to know very little about it.
"I am waiting for you to tell me, since I can see you want to." She was no doubt smitten with him, the blue eyes and the shaggy blond hair. He seemed younger than his friend, more approachable. She had a feeling Mr. Solo was dangerous when he needed to be.
"Okay, here goes. First of all, President Dwight D. Eisenhower was born here. I bet you didn't know that one!" Everyone at the table laughed at her as Illya feigned real surprise. He did know that bit of trivia, but he wouldn't deprive her of the joy of thinking he did not.
"And, sitting here in Papa's winery, it is important to know that horticulturalist T.V. Munson made grapes able to grow without, um…' Sam look at her father as he mouthed a word.
"Phy-llox-era.. and was inducted into the French Legion of Honor for saving the grapes in Europe. Did you know that?"
"Once again you have outwitted me. Today you get an A for all subjects." Illya winked at her and her stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were inside of it.
The meal was once again served family style, with each bowl and platter being passed around. It was a Cajun meal, spicy and redolent with flavor. A richly seasoned Boudoin was the entree, a handmade sausage filled with pork, rice, peppers and onions. Also on the table were large platters of corn on the cob and fried okra, and a large tureen filled with a luxuriously rich turtle soup.
As before, the start of the meal included prayer, this time in French. The amens were becoming less awkward for the two men from UNCLE, their anticipation of the meal more like what they might expect among friends.
Chef Henri sat down next to his mentor and boss, eventually becoming engrossed in a conversation with Illya as the two launched into French. The entire table was in conversation, the mood almost like a celebration.
Denison was proving to be a very enjoyable stop on this very unexpected journey.