The Winemaker

by Michelle MacQueen

  My father turned back at the door, scowling at my choice of office space. “And some boys just need a kick in the pants and a little old school discipline to get through to them.”

  “We’re not cutting him off, Dad. Carter’s not a bad kid.” We’d had this discussion before. Dad thought it would do his youngest some good to have to make his own way without the support of his ample trust fund. I had more confidence in my brother. Carter would figure out his way soon enough.

  “Yeah, well, he’s not a kid anymore either.” My father stepped out of the barn where I kept my office and left me to my piles of paperwork.

  After college, when I first started working for Ashford Orchards, I worked in the fancy offices in town with my father full time. Since then, as I took on more responsibility, I made it clear I couldn’t tolerate the stuffy executive’s corner suite in town more than necessary. I only worked there part time. For the rest, the barn right here on the Ashford Estate suited me just fine. I preferred being closer to the vineyards and our workers. I’d also divided the traditional barn space into two sections. The front was my wide-open office space, and the rear of the barn was outfitted with vintage equipment for my winemaking experimentations.

  It had taken a long time to get my father to understand I wanted to be more hands on in the family business. I wanted to be approachable in ways my father and grandfather before me hadn’t been.

  “You can come out now,” I called into the shadows at the back of the barn. “He’s gone.”

  “How’d you know I was here?” Carter shuffled toward my desk, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets.

  “I heard you come in through the back just before Dad came storming in the front. He saw you leaving the bay boardwalk earlier. And we all know you weren’t there for the shopping.”

  “Who says I don’t like shopping?” Carter toed his boot through the fresh hay I’d just laid out in the stalls for Duke.

  “Says everyone who ever met you, Carter.” I looked up with a grin I couldn’t hide. My little brother was many things, but complicated wasn’t one of them.

  “I buy things.” Carter dropped into the chair in front of my desk wearing his patented cheeky smile, his too long auburn curls bouncing around his face. I envied his laid back life.

  “If it can be ordered from the internet, yes.” I returned to my desk. I needed to finish going through several new purchasing contracts before I could call it a day. “But if it requires you actually stepping into a store—especially the fancy boutiques at the bay boardwalk—it’s not going to happen. So, you were with her again. At your little hiding spot under the boardwalk.” I hated the tone of accusation that entered my voice. I wasn’t Carter’s father. I was barely his employer, but I’d really rather just be his brother.

  “So what if I was?” Carter rolled his eyes. “The Contrerases are good people, and Selena is my best friend.”

  “You know how our family feels about those people.” I winced at how awful that sounded. Like the Contrerases weren’t good enough for the Ashfords.

  “Congratulations, brother, you’ve never sounded more like Dad. He’d be so proud. We should call him back and have you reenact that little moment there.”

  “I’m trying to help you.” I sighed. He was right, I sounded like a jerk to my own ears.

  “They aren’t the enemy.” Carter moved to the edge of his seat. “This whole family feud is a little too Capulets and Montagues, don’t you think?”

  More like the Hatfield and McCoys. I gave a mental shrug. The kid was right. The bad blood between the families was old news. I couldn’t even begin to explain how it all came about. But keeping Carter away from the Contreras girl would make my life easier, and I was all about making my life easier.

  “Hey, Duke.” Carter grinned as Duke emerged from under my desk. The traitor loved my brother. “You’re looking as handsome and as tall as ever.”

  Duke was enormous—a gentle giant for sure. He busied himself sniffing Carter’s hair, and since they were at eye level, it made for a strange sight. “I think he likes my cologne.”

  “Duke, enough, go get your teddy.” I pointed to the large bed in the nearest stall where Duke took his afternoon naps. The great gray beast scampered over like a young pup and snatched up his “teddy,” a toddler-sized golden teddy bear he’d had since he was a baby. The eyes were chewed out, and I’d had to stitch it back together more times than I could count. I didn’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to teddy. Duke would be inconsolable.

  “One of these days, I’m going to dog-nap this guy.” Carter shook his head, smiling at Duke’s antics with teddy.

  “Trust me, you’d call begging for me to come get him.” I shoved the contracts to the corner of my desk. They could wait until tomorrow. “Just … stay away from the girl. It’s not worth the hassle.”

  “Says the guy with no friends.” Carter glanced up from watching Duke. “You’d sing a different tune if you had a best friend you couldn’t live without.”

  “You really expect me to believe you’re just friends with this girl?” I sat back against my chair, studying my brother’s face for any sign that he might be lying. I’d known her as long as him, though not nearly as well. She was pretty, and my brother was a sucker for a pretty girl. Especially one that would make our father crazy with rage.

  “I don’t expect anything from you. Just stay out of my business, and we’re good.” Carter leaned forward just as the phone rang. “You can tell Dad we had the talk, and I’ll behave myself long enough to get him off your back. And mine.”

  I nodded as I reached for the phone. I could live with that arrangement for the time being.

  “Conner Ashford,” I answered the phone, waving to my little brother as he headed out the door to an evening free of responsibility. I envied his ability to walk away sometimes. Well, most of the time.

  “What can I do for you, Eli?” I’d hoped to be out of the office at a reasonable time tonight, but with a late call from the family lawyer, who was also my cousin, it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

  “Conner, glad I caught you, there’s been a development on the parcel of land you were hoping to sell.”

  “You have a buyer?” I ran a hand through my hair. It would be good news if Eli had an interested buyer—not that I needed the money. The land was fairly useless to me now. Ever since the Bay Yacht Club acquired the beach front parcel right next to the Ashford property, any plans to develop it had gone on the back burner. Better to let some other developer come in and put up affordable housing or some other less profitable project that would be a waste of my time. It was good land, I just didn’t need it.

  “Yes,” Eli hedged. “Maybe … it depends.”

  I sighed as I sat back down at my desk. “Just get to the point. I’m sure you’re as anxious to get home as I am.” Not that I had anyone to go home to. It was just me and Duke … and the grapes here at Superiore Winery … unless I wanted to spend the evening with Dad and my grandfather, which I did not.

  “Someone’s interested. She hasn’t put in an official offer yet, but she’s eager. I’m not sure she can scrape together the full market value, but she means to make a decent offer.”

  “Good news, Eli. I don’t care if she can’t come up to full market value. I just want to be rid of the parcel.” And continuing to pay the high property taxes on a useless piece of land was just a bad business decision. “Who’s the buyer?” I grabbed a pen to scribble down the name so I could reach out to her realtor and get the ball rolling.

  “That’s the thing.” I could hear the hesitation in Eli’s voice. “I need you to keep an open mind here. It’s Selena Contreras.”

  “Are you serious? What do the Contrerases want with more property? They can barely handle the taxes on their lands as it is.” Really, it was only a matter of time before Orchard Hill Farm belonged to the Ashfords.

  The winery was a big tourist draw. So was the quaint little beach town. But Orch
ard Hill Farm was also responsible for bringing in tourists during their harvest season. And for the last several years, they’d experienced a disappointing harvest. What could this girl be thinking? Now was a time to trim back the excess and reevaluate her business plans for the future. It was not time to charge forward, buying expensive property she couldn’t afford to do anything with.

  “She has plans,” Eli said. “Big plans, but that’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

  If it were just up to me, I wouldn’t care one way or the other if Selena Contreras decided to buy all the land for sale in Superiore Bay. But it wasn’t just up to me. My father would have to agree to sell the land, and he would never sell a blade of grass to a member of the Contreras family.

  3

  Lena

  Whenever I went into town with my brother, people tended to stare. Not at me. I was around town a lot, but Enzo rarely got involved in town affairs. A year younger than me, he was also more emotionally invested in the orchard. One day, I hoped he’d be able to take over the running of it while I had my own business.

  A business that had brought me to town.

  But his aloofness wasn’t the only reason the people we’d known all our lives stared. My brother was beautiful, at least according to the little old ladies who fueled the gossip magazine in town, the Weekly Wine. Gag me at the name. Did everything in this town have to be about the Ashfords and their perfect wine?

  The magazine had a section called “sightings” where they chronicled where they saw all the town’s golden boys. This included Enzo, Conner Ashford—ugh—a few cops, firefighters, the mayor, and several others.

  The old ladies lusted after them. It was kind of funny, actually.

  With his tanned skin, cerulean eyes, and broad muscles built through hard work rather than working out, I’d had to put up with a lot of swooning no sister should ever have to see.

  I yelped as Enzo grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the alcove in front of the door to Hugga Mugga, the one and only coffee shop in town.

  “Ow, let go. What’s wrong with you?”

  Enzo looked behind us and sighed. “Mrs. Peterson was coming our way.”

  One corner of my mouth curled up. “Your girlfriend?”

  He groaned. Mrs. Mary Peterson was about seventy and had a habit of saying inappropriate things. I kind of loved her.

  “If you’re going to make me hide, the least you can do is buy me a coffee.” I pushed open the glass door that showcased the bright and bubbly Hugga Mugga logo. The name was as cheesy as our town.

  Inside, the place was packed with morning patrons getting their injections of caffeine. I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but this place made killer scones.

  “I’m getting breakfast too.”

  Enzo rolled his eyes. “And I guess I’m paying for that as well?”

  I linked my arm with his. “You’re such a good brother.”

  We’d always been close, closer than close. As this town was one to take sides in any dispute as though it was the local sport, it was usually the Contreras kids against the world.

  Inside, the coffee shop was warm, with dark wooden floors and sky blue walls. I’d always loved it here. Shelby Yin stood behind the counter, looking bored. Her inky black hair was piled high on her head, and pink glasses perched on her nose. I almost asked why she was here and not in school, but then I remembered they had the day off for some teacher training thing. I’d read about it in the Weekly Wine that annoyed me so much. Sue me, I was a customer.

  I really needed to get out more.

  “What can I get you?” she asked in a monotone voice.

  Enzo and I ordered iced mochas and cranberry-orange scones. He paid, and we ducked out into the early morning sun. I checked the time on my phone and realized I’d be a bit early to my meeting with the lawyer.

  My brother didn’t know why I’d wanted to come to town, but he’d been dying to get out. He had a few errands to run while I had my meeting, and he hadn’t asked questions. He was good like that.

  We headed across the street toward the town square and didn’t see them until it was too late. Sitting in a row of chairs near the small gazebo was the gossip posse. That was what Carter and I called them. We’d avoided Mrs. Peterson before, but here she was again, and they’d already seen us.

  “Selena!” Mrs. Jeffries called. “Selena, come here and bring that brother of yours with you.”

  I tugged him with me, not wanting to be rude.

  Along with Mrs. Peterson and Mrs. Jeffries was Mrs. Chapman, my favorite of the bunch. Carter and I had spent a lot of time at her house when her granddaughter Harper Chapman visited in the summers.

  Mrs. Chapman gave us a warm smile. “It’s been a while since I saw one Contreras, let alone two. How are you, dears?”

  I returned her smile. “Good, thank you.” I elbowed Enzo.

  He cleared his throat. “Fine, fine.”

  “Yes, you are.” Mrs. Peterson’s gaze slid up the length of him, and he fidgeted beside me.

  Feeling bad for him, I tried to shift the attention to me. “Have you heard from Harper recently, Mrs. Chapman?”

  She smiled at the mention of her successful granddaughter. “She called me just last night. She’s married, you know.” I did know that. We were still friends on social media. “And a reporter for the Boston Globe! I’m so proud of that girl.”

  I was proud of my old friend too. She’d achieved the dreams she used to talk about. I just wish she hadn’t had to leave me and Carter behind to do it. Stifling those thoughts, I kept my smile bright. It was all I could do.

  Mrs. Jeffries met my gaze. “What about you, Selena? Any prospective husbands on the horizon?”

  Enzo coughed out a laugh, and I “accidentally” stepped on his foot, my smile never wavering. “I’m just focused on my family’s business.”

  “You won’t be young forever, dear. Eventually, those Contreras good looks you both have will turn into this.” She gestured to the three of them.

  I shook my head. “I would be lucky to age like you beauties.”

  That made her laugh. “You two were always charmers. Tell you what, I have a grandson who lives about an hour from here. That’s not too far, is it?”

  It wasn’t the first time I’d heard about this grandson.

  Mrs. Peterson scoffed. “She doesn’t want to marry Hank, Anita. He only graduated high school last year.”

  Mrs. Jeffries looked offended, but it was the truth. I wasn’t going to date an eighteen-year-old kid.

  “Plus,” Mrs. Peterson continued, “Glen is more her type.”

  I wasn’t sure what they thought my type was, but it definitely wasn’t a man ten years my senior who lived with his parents and worked part time, spending the rest of his time playing video games.

  “Oh, hey,” Enzo said suddenly. “There’s Harrison. I need to have a word with him.” I lifted my eyes to where Harrison Ashford walked down the brick path crisscrossing the wide-open green spaces that made up the square.

  I wanted to murder my brother as he jogged toward the only Ashford he put up with. Harrison was the mayor of Superiore Bay, so we didn’t really have a choice but to deal with him, but he was also different from his Ashford Estate cousins.

  I turned my attention back to the ladies in front of me, my eyes catching on the paper in Mrs. Chapman’s hands. “Is that a new issue of the Weekly Wine?”

  “Sure is, honey. I’m done with it if you’d like to see it.”

  “Thank you.” I took it from her. “I must be on my way. I have a meeting this morning.”

  After waving goodbye, I headed toward the row of shops along the Boulevard, which was what we called the main drag around the square.

  I didn’t have time to read much of the gossip before stepping into Bath Babes, my favorite shop. It was owned by an elderly woman named Candice Fletcher. I didn’t know her well, but the store sold my favorite candles.

  The bell above the bright yellow door chimed as I
stepped inside, and I was immediately assaulted with a tantalizing combination of scents from the section of candles to my right. This place sold everything homemade. Candles, soaps, environmentally friendly cleaners.

  I knew after my meeting with the lawyer I was going to need my favorite calming scent. It was a candle they simply called “Relax,” a mix of vanilla, chamomile flowers, and mint.

  I didn’t talk to the other patrons. Other than the gossip posse, most of them didn’t speak to me. That would require betraying their Ashford overlords.

  Mrs. Fletcher smiled at me as I walked toward the counter with the candle, but then, she smiled at everyone. I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone else who was quite as nice as her.

  “You do love these, don’t you?” She laughed.

  I went through a lot of candles. “Nothing else can calm me down quite so quickly.”

  “You’re wound a little tight, Lena.” She reached for a basket of bath bombs on the counter. “I’m going to throw one of these in. Try it. I promise, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever done for yourself. A little self-care.”

  I wasn’t really one for self-care, or bubble baths, but I smiled in thanks.

  Looping my bag over one arm, I left the shop. As I walked, I opened up the copy of the Weekly Wine Mrs. Chapman had given me.

  It was mostly the usual gossip. Old Mr. Franklin, who manned the lighthouse at Superiore Point, was apparently dating a woman from Hidden Cove—a treasonous betrayal to most of Superiore Bay. My eyes scanned the gossip, some of it making me chuckle. Had Matt Davidson really streaked through the town square two nights ago?

  It was probably a celebration for one of the high school sports teams that was wrapping up their season.

  When I got to the sightings section, I nearly stopped breathing.

  Sighted: Carter Ashford, motoring across the inlet to meet with Selena Contreras. Will we have a joining of the two rival families?