The Winemaker
Maine Mornings: Book One
Michelle MacQueen
Ann Maree Craven
Contents
1. Lena
2. Conner
3. Lena
4. Conner
5. Lena
6. Conner
7. Conner
8. Lena
9. Conner
10. Lena
11. Conner
12. Lena
13. Conner
14. Lena
15. Conner
16. Lena
17. Conner
18. Lena
19. Conner
20. Lena
21. Conner
22. Lena
23. Lena
24. Conner
25. Lena
26. Conner
27. Lena
28. Conner
29. Lena
30. Lena
Epilogue: Conner
The Second Chance
About Ann Maree
About Michelle
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Michelle MacQueen and Ann Maree Craven
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Printed in the United States of America
* * *
Editing by Caitlin Haines
Cover by Melissa A Craven at Bookly Style
1
Lena
There was something magical about the bay at twilight. Not the pixie dust and fairy wings kind of magic, the imaginary kind that left a person wishing for something they couldn’t have.
No, this kind of power was very much here, very much within reach. It was a quiet that came over the water after the boats were tucked into the marina and everyone who normally filled the air with their chatter along the boardwalk had gone home.
Some people said I had my head in the clouds, that Selena Contreras would never achieve anything extraordinary. Maybe they were right, but tonight I wished for so many things as I lay in the clearing beyond the trees. Beyond the confines of the traditions that dictated what my life would be before I was even born.
But living along the beautiful Maine coastline made me feel like anything was possible.
I’d ridden my moped from my family’s orchard down dusty back roads and through town to get to my favorite spot near the bay boardwalk.
I stared up into the darkening sky. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to see anything save the sweeping beam of the distant lighthouse that turned the dull, gray rocks silver.
A sigh rattled from my lungs as I let my body relax into the ground, releasing the strain of another day’s work. I loved my family’s orchard. Some days, I didn’t even mind working my hands to the bone to keep it going. We could only afford minimal help, and it was on the entire family to pitch in, even grandma, though I think she enjoyed it the most.
But other days—days when all I felt was a bone-weary ache in my soul—on those days, I wanted something more.
As stars began dotting the sky, I listened to the sound of the gentle waves rushing up against the rocks. There weren’t big waves this far into the inlet that led to our little town of Superiore Bay, but as the wind rippled over the surface, it created a tiny splashing that was comforting in its rhythm.
The purr of a boat engine nearing the shore had me lifting my head. I recognized that sound. It came from a tiny fishing boat, the only one that would dare venture near the rocks this late in the day when shadows cloaked the shore.
Because it was driven by someone who never thought anything would happen to him. Carter Ashford. My best friend. A best friend I wasn’t allowed to have.
I pushed to my feet, throwing my dark wavy hair over my shoulders before shoving my hands into the pockets of my overalls.
The boat ran up onto the only gap in the rocks, a tiny strip of beach Carter and I found years ago, barely large enough for a boat. It was the only place we could see each other without our families hearing of it.
The Contrerases and the Ashfords were rivals. We lived on opposite sides of the bay, them in their mansion on the edge of their vineyard and us in our run-down Victorian-style house among the orchards we put our blood sweat and tears into for generations. Grapes verse apples, but the rivalry ran deeper than fruit, though all I knew was the feud dated back several generations before us.
Older people could be so childish sometimes.
Carter hopped out of his boat, dragging it farther onto the beach before climbing up the rocks to the grassy area where I waited. The boardwalk sat behind us, dozens of feet above the rocks and boulders that concealed us from the prying eyes of the town.
His wide, boyish grin made it hard to keep a stern face, but I did my best.
His smile fell only the slightest bit. “Whoa, who died?”
I took my hands out of my pockets and crossed my arms. “You do realize it’s getting dark, yes?”
He blew auburn curls out of his face. “I’ll be fine, Lena.” He threw himself onto the ground with a roll of his eyes.
It wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. I sat beside him. “You could get seriously hurt taking your boat out at this time of day. It’s going to be completely dark when you head home.” Only experienced boaters went out at night around here, and few came near the rocks, preferring the well-lit marina instead.
He shrugged, his nonchalance irritating. “I’ll be fine,” he said again and nudged me. “You worry too much.”
I drew my knees up to my chest. “And you don’t worry enough.”
His smile widened, and I wanted to smack it off his face, but instead, I found myself returning the expression. Carter and I had been friends ever since the first day of the second grade. Over the years, various people from our parents and brothers to random nosy townspeople had many “talks” with us about how it wasn’t appropriate for us to be friends.
It wasn’t like I was going to marry the guy. Ew. Carter was basically my brother. Plus, he was an Ashford. As much as I loved him, I could never join that toxic family.
Carter threw an arm around me and pulled me into a side hug. “What else was I supposed to do to see my favorite girl? I couldn’t very well drive.”
The road to our spot led right by town, and Carter’s Ferrari wasn’t exactly unrecognizable.
I sighed, leaning into him. “I just don’t want anything happening to you.” I’d had very few friends in my life, in part because most people in this town bowed down to the Ashfords who practically owned the very roads they drove on. And then, there was the fact I’d spent all my free time working for my family. Not exactly the kind of girl people wanted to be friends with.
Except for Carter, I’d only ever had one close friend. And she left years ago, and was never coming back.
“You seem tired, Lena.” He pulled back to look at me in the way only he did, like he could tell exactly what was going on in my head. I swore, in another life, we were twins separated at birth.
“I am tired.” It had been a particularly long week. I’d worked all day every day and then spent the evenings on my own plans. Plans my family would never approve.
I got to my knees and crawled over to my little yellow moped. It wasn’t exactly a Ferrari, but it got me where I needed to go. I reached into the bag hanging off the back and pulled out a roll of papers.
Returning to Carter, I flattened them
on the ground. He pulled out his phone to use as a flashlight, leaning down to look at my drawings. “You did these?”
I nodded, nibbling on my lower lip. He was the only person who knew how far into the project I was. My parents still thought it was an abstract idea I’d never actually follow through with.
When my grandfather died, he left me his half of the orchard without telling anyone ahead of time. I’d never known why he didn’t give it to my grandma, but now I was an equal partner with my dad, something he still couldn’t wrap his head around.
I thought it was time for us to stop barely getting by and make an effort to improve our business. To diversify our income before it dried up completely.
Carter flipped through the pages, my drawings of the complex I wanted to build. A cider tasting room. A general store to sell apples and apple-like things. And so much more.
“You added a restaurant?” He rubbed his fingers over the stubble that was a constant on his unshaven face. He’d never been one to grow a full beard, but he also wasn’t all about the extra personal grooming.
It made him look less like a fancy Ashford, and I liked that about him.
His eyes lifted to mine in the dark, and I knew exactly how they’d look. Gray. Intelligent.
Some days, I really wanted to love this man. I mean, I did, but not like that. I wished he gave me butterflies, the kind I’d never felt before. Even though it would be way too complicated if he did.
“I thought there could be a cafe where we’d serve apple dumplings, hot cider, and the like. Then, a more formal sitting room where people could get fancier dishes like apple braised pork.”
“It’s genius.”
“You think so?” Any time I talked about this dream with my family, they nodded along as if they understood, but they didn’t, not really.
“Lena, the town needs something like this to bring in tourism year round.”
A smile spread slowly across my lips. “My thoughts exactly.”
He continued looking at the drawings, flipping back and forth between them. “Have you shown this to your dad?”
I snorted out a laugh. “Because that would go over so well.”
“Give the man some credit. He loves you.” Carter was forever lecturing me about my dad. He didn’t really know him since he wasn’t allowed at the house, but from what he’d told me, his relationship with his own father was a lot rockier than mine. The Ashford, as people tended to call the patriarch of Carter’s family, was a force to be reckoned with.
My dad might not believe in this idea, but his didn’t believe in him.
I rolled the papers up and stuffed them back in the bag before returning and lying back on the grassy slope. Carter rested beside me, his face lifted to the sky.
A cool wind ruffled through the trees, and I breathed in the fresh, salty air. There was nothing like late spring or summer in Superiore Bay, no comparison. It was only May, but during the day, I could already feel the summer heat.
“Do you remember the summers in high school?” he asked suddenly.
I turned my head to look at him, knowing exactly where this was headed. Harper. The girl neither of us quite got over. She’d spent her summers here, and Carter had loved her. Me … well, she was the best female friend I’d ever had, maybe the only true one.
And she’d left us eight years ago and never came back.
I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. “We’ve got us.” It was what we said whenever anything got real in other parts of our lives. When we felt stuck in a cycle we couldn’t break free of, stuck in lives we didn’t want, we had us. When other people broke our hearts, we had us.
“You realize we’re like the Romeo and Juliet of best friends, right?”
I couldn’t help laughing at his comparison. “Just please don’t die for me.”
He squeezed my hand. “I wish we didn’t always have to hide.”
I knew exactly how he felt. Having Carter in my life was like having a secret lover without the physical aspects. It was like keeping the most important relationship I had from the other people I loved.
I scooted closer and rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. No one else would ever understand. They wouldn’t get that while we loved each other deeply, we weren’t in love.
There were other kinds of closeness. And one day, when I did fall in love, that person would have to let Carter keep a part of me, the best friend part. We were soul mates.
“You and I, Lena, we’re more than they say we are.”
I hummed in agreement, trying to keep my eyes open.
He went on. “Our fathers will see that one day. My brother …” He sighed.
I lifted my head. “What did Conner do now?”
Conner Ashford was the second oldest Ashford sibling, the second of three boys and one girl. He was also kind of a jerk.
“Nothing, it’s just … he saw me leaving tonight and interrogated me.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“No, but I got so frustrated with him I didn’t hide the direction I went in.”
“So, Conner knows you’re here.”
“He probably assumes.”
“Will he tell your father?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment. “I never know what he’ll do.”
Car tires coming up the dirt road had me jerking up. “You have to go.”
Carter didn’t have to be told twice. “Love you, Lena.”
“Love you too.” I pushed him toward the rocks.
He jumped over and ran his boat out into the water. I heard the engine start up and prayed he’d make it back to the Ashford Estate safely.
A beat up red pickup truck stopped next to my moped, and the door opened. I waited for my dad to step out and tell me he’d seen Carter here, but instead, a smaller foot reached for the ground. My grandma hopped out with surprising agility.
She walked through the dark to approach me, her arms crossed. “Mija, I’ve been sent to find you for dinner.” I loved my grandma, but I was an adult, and my entire family treated me like I was still a teenager. Sure, I didn’t have to live in the main house anymore, instead living in the converted old bunk house my brother and I fixed up, but I was still expected for dinner, even when that dinner came very late.
“I was just out here … thinking.”
She chuckled softly. “And I’m sure that Ashford boy helps with that.”
“Gram …” My steps faltered. “Are you going to tell Dad?”
She studied me for a moment. “Your father has a lot on his mind. He doesn’t need to know everything.” She winked. Winked! I loved this woman.
I surprised her with a hug. “Thank you.” If my dad found out I was still spending time with Carter, he’d find a way to put an end to it. And sometimes, it felt like Carter was the best part of my life.
How sad was that? Our families hated each other. We were from different worlds. There were absolutely no romantic feelings between us. Yet, the thought of losing him stole the breath from my lungs.
Grandma shoved me away from her with a laugh. “Get that bike of yours in the truck.”
“It’s a moped, not a bike.”
She ignored my correction. “We need to get back to the house before Enzo eats all our dinner.”
I hauled the moped into the truck bed and climbed in next to her, feeling lighter than I had when I first sought an escape out here with Carter.
It was that magic.
The magic of the bay at dusk.
2
Conner
“What do you expect from me, Dad? Carter’s a grown man, he can do whatever he wants.”
My father turned his critical gaze on me. I knew what that look meant. I’d been on the receiving end of it my entire life. It was his ‘do as you’re told’ look, but I’d outgrown that demand at least a decade ago.
My younger brother, Carter, not so much. The little coward was hiding somewhere, avoiding another lecture from Da
d.
“You are my heir, Conner, and the Ashford legacy will be yours to command one day when I’m gone. You need to keep your brothers in line. Keep Carter away from that Contreras girl. The last thing we need is for him to get it in his head to marry that girl—or worse, get her pregnant.”
I smiled at the thought of a Contreras-Ashford wedding. “He’d do it just to tick you off.” I shuffled through the pile of paperwork on my desk, avoiding my father’s icy gray gaze. He was right. The Ashford empire was mine to run—whether I wanted it or not. Most days I did. The winery was in my blood. The contracts, employees, and the incredible responsibility of it all.
“Keep your mind on the business, son. You spend too much time with your hybrid crops and that mangy dog of yours and not nearly enough on what matters.”
I absently reached down to scratch between Duke’s ears. He was not mangy. He was a regal brindled Irish wolfhound with wiry gray, brown, and black fur. About seven feet tall when he stood on his hind legs, and the most loyal dog in the world. He was my best friend. Pathetic, I know. But it was true.
“Sure thing, Dad. I’ll talk to Carter about his … associations.” And then, I’ll watch it go in one ear and out the other.
“See that you do.” My father stood, his back ramrod straight. “I don’t have the patience for Carter’s rebellions anymore. I don’t know if that boy will ever grow up.”
“He will, Dad. He just needs to find his own path.” The more Dad came down on Carter, the more Carter pushed back. If they’d both just stop trying to make each other crazy, my life would certainly improve.
The Winemaker Page 1
