The Winemaker

by Michelle MacQueen

  “Sailing? Really?” Enzo glanced back over his shoulder at the others hard at work.

  “Grams says I’m too young to work so hard, so you have to take me out for a leisurely afternoon on the bay.”

  Enzo tossed down his gloves, and with a shrug, he followed Grams’ orders. “Won’t argue with that.” He grinned. “She’s right, you need to get work off your mind for a while, and I have a new fishing rod to break in.”

  9

  Conner

  I cracked open my second beer for the day. I wasn’t normally a beer drinker, but there was something about spending an afternoon on the boat with my brothers in the open waters of the bay that just demanded an ice cold beer.

  “You’ve got some catching up to do, Conner.” Carter climbed up the steps onto the terrace, dripping seawater onto the deck.

  “You know I don’t do the public intoxication thing. Besides, someone has to be sober enough to drive us back home, and it can’t be Duke.” I ran my fingers through Duke’s wiry, brindled fur. He was a good sailor, just not the best swimmer, so he was sporting his red life preserver today.

  “First, it isn’t public if the only people here are your brothers and Harrison.” Carter patted himself down with a fluffy beach towel, careful not to spill his beer. Harrison lobbed a bottle cap at him for the slight. He might be our cousin, but he was pretty much one of the brothers.

  “Second, that’s not what I meant. When was the last time you and that mangy mutt of yours spent an afternoon at the pool or out on the boat?” He shielded his eyes like the glare from my skin blinded him.

  “Duke, he called you a mutt!” I pulled my dog close to my side. “Duke would have you all know he comes from a long line of prize-winning Irish Wolfhounds.”

  “You are sporting a pretty impressive farmer’s tan.” Conrad ignored me and my dog as he glanced over from his lounge chair. His own perfect tan said he spent a lot of time outdoors without a shirt on, but Conrad was a hard worker. He broke from tradition and left the family business to become a large animal veterinarian and the savior of the Corolla Wild Horse Sanctuary in Superiore Bay.

  I ignored both of them and continued sipping my beer, enjoying the rare afternoon away from work. Duke was enjoying himself too. He lay stretched out to his full length in the sun, tongue lolling out as I reached to scratch his belly. Ashford Vineyards was my life, and most of the time I enjoyed the work, but it tended to leave little else for me.

  “Seriously, buddy, you need to get away from those grapes more often,” Harrison said, his tone drowsy from under his hat. He lay sprawled out on the sofa beside me.

  “So says the hardware store owner-slash-firefighter-slash-mayor.” Harrison was just as busy as I was, but he still knew when to leave work at work.

  “Volunteer firefighter,” Harrison mumbled. “It’s not a full-time commitment.”

  “But running this town is probably an eighty-hour-a-week job.” I drained the last of my drink before it had time to grow warm. Warm beer was the worst.

  “Depends on the week.” Harrison rolled over onto his back and immediately fell asleep, making me think he was midway through a very long week.

  Sweat beaded my forehead. The cold drink had chased away the heat of the day for a brief moment, but a dip in the bay would fix that for good. “I’m going for a swim,” I announced to my dozing brothers. They were all several drinks ahead of me and enjoying their sunbathing. Duke was sound asleep.

  The bay was calm today, and the breeze rushed warm across my skin as I stood at the edge of the beach terrace on the family yacht—one of several. It was one of those rare, truly hot summer days Maine seldom saw, and I was glad I’d let Carter bully me into ditching work to join them. But that water was going to be cold. No matter what time of year it was, the bay waters were always cold.

  I knew better than to turn my back to my brothers. Even asleep, they couldn’t be trusted. The swift kick to my butt sent me flying through the air to belly flop into the ocean. The sting of the cold water numbed my skin as I floundered for the surface.

  “Carter!” I spewed salt water from my mouth. Duke echoed my accusation with a bark and a growl of solidarity.

  “How do you know it was me? It could have been Conrad.” Carter didn’t even have the decency to help me back up the steps.

  “That’s it, pick on Conner day is over.” I slicked my hair back and lunged for Carter, pulling him up and tossing him into the bay, fresh beer and all.

  Conrad chuckled from his comfortable spot on the lounge, and Harrison snored, but I wasn’t done. I grabbed Conrad’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

  “Don’t do it, Conner.” Conrad pushed back.

  “Oh, it’s happening.” I shouldered him toward the edge of the boat. He was built like a brick wall, but we grappled, laughing like we had when we were kids. Still, I was the second oldest but also the tallest, and I always won these fights. Conrad went in headfirst, and I turned for Harrison, who was still asleep and unsuspecting.

  Gripping the edge of the sofa, I slid him across the deck and dumped him into the ocean before he knew what was happening. He came up sputtering. “What did I miss?”

  “Come on, Duke!” With a triumphant grin, I dove into the bay to join my brothers. They were right, I needed to relax more often. Working with our father had made me too serious.

  Duke barked from the yacht, growling at us like we’d all lost our minds. He was a crap swimmer, but he was wearing his giant doggy life vest. “Come on, boy!” Carter whistled, and Duke whined as he lowered his front end, his big doggy butt sticking up in the air.

  “You can do it, buddy, just come down the steps.” I swam toward the deck so he knew I would catch him if he sank. With a yelp like a puppy, he jumped, long legs flailing as he hit the water.

  “Good boy.” I reached for him as he paddled toward me, draping a reassuring arm around his middle.

  “Good boy, Duke!” Harrison clapped, and Duke showed his toothy grin, paddling for all he was worth. Once he realized he wasn’t going to sink with his life jacket on, he relaxed and bobbed up and down in the gentle waves like a cork.

  The swim in the crisp cold water was invigorating, but even at play, my mind drifted back to work and the ten thousand things I had waiting for me on my desk when I returned. Specifically, I had a potential new contract with a small buyer in New Hampshire to review. The family owned several B&Bs in the area and were interested in stocking one of my private label hybrid wines as part of their special monthly wine tasting events at each of their locations. It wasn’t a landmark deal that would get my father’s attention, but it was a big deal for me. Working with my hybrid wines was the only thing that kept me going most days.

  “Look at him, he’s thinking about those fancy grapes again.” Carter splashed my face. “You can tell because his eyes get all dreamy like he’s thinking about a girl.”

  “Shut up.” I splashed him back and headed for the deck. “It’s time to head back in, guys. I’ve got work.”

  “We all have work, Conner.” Conrad lunged toward me, and I was underwater, arms flailing before I came up sputtering for the second time today.

  “Except maybe Carter,” Harrison quipped.

  “Hey, I have work, of a sort.” My younger brother grinned.

  “Come on, guys, help me get this giant dog back up on the boat.” I guided Duke to the lounge terrace steps that lowered right into the water. I pulled myself up onto the first step and coaxed Duke to place his front paws on the step beside me. “Give his rear a push, Carter.”

  Duke whimpered. He didn’t like steps. Really, it wasn’t so much that he disliked them as it was he didn’t understand them. Or his size. He was easily a hundred and forty pounds, but he thought he was a third of that.

  “Jeez, Conner, what are you feeding him?” Carter shouldered Duke up the steps until the gentle giant figured out how to lumber up to the terrace deck.

  “He’s still carrying a little holiday weight, so don’t m
ake him feel bad.” I sat on the steps and gave each of my brothers a hand up into the boat.

  “Are you still making his food yourself?” Conrad asked, eyeing the dog with a veterinarian’s eye.

  “Yeah, and he eats about a metric ton every month. Takes me a whole week to make enough to last him six weeks.”

  “Best thing you could do for him.” Conrad clapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, watch out, Carter, he’s going to shake.”

  The three of us ducked as Duke stood at the center of the terrace, shaking the seawater from his coat. “Sorry, dude, you’re going to smell like wet dog for the rest of the day.” I grinned at Carter as I came up the steps to the deck.

  Carter just muttered something about crazy dogs and their stupid dads as he tossed me a fresh towel.

  “Come on, Duke, get in your bed.” I pointed to the plush dog bed beside the couch. “Get your teddy.” Duke grabbed his tattered teddy bear from the lounge and folded his long frame on the bed, resting his chin on his favorite toy we couldn’t go anywhere without.

  “Uh, bad news, guys.” Harrison jogged down the steps from the flybridge. “We’re stuck. It won’t start.”

  “What do you mean it won’t start?” I asked.

  “Exactly what it sounds like. The engine won’t start. We’re going to need a tow.”

  “That could take hours.” Conrad groaned. “I have to get back to the sanctuary before Amelia leaves on the last ferry.”

  “Let me try it.” I headed up the stairs to the main deck, all three brothers behind me. There was no way the engine wasn’t working. The yacht couldn’t be more than a few years old, and Dad was meticulous about keeping the family fleet in top condition.

  We crowded into the upper flybridge, and I immediately saw the problem. “You didn’t lift the anchor first.” I pulled the lever to retract the anchor and waited until I could feel us drifting with the current. “Now, you start the engine.” I flipped the switch and waited for the hum of power beneath my feet. Nothing happened.

  “Told you.” Conrad shrugged.

  “So, we’re stuck, and now we’re drifting.” Carter stared at all the dials and switches on the helm.

  I tried the engine again and again.

  “Watch out. You’ll flood it,” Harrison said.

  “What does that even mean?” Carter asked.

  I tried it again. I didn’t know what it meant either.

  “I don’t know, but it’s what you say when someone tries the engine too frequently.” Harrison swatted my hand away from the ignition switch.

  “Conrad, don’t you know how to fix tractors and stuff on the farm?” I turned to my brother, hoping he could save the day.

  “It’s a horse sanctuary, not a farm, and I don’t own a tractor. If something breaks down, I call a mechanic.”

  “We’re never going to get a tow in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.” Carter shook his head. “The coastguard is way out at sea by now, and no one’s on the bay today.”

  “We could send up a flare?” Harrison suggested.

  “No way. We’ll never hear the end of it.” I grabbed my phone from where I’d left it at the helm and moved out to the open bow deck, checking for a signal. “The Weekly Wine would be all over this. Local rich boys send up rescue flare when their million dollar yacht won’t start. That’s not happening.”

  “Did it cost that much?” Carter eyed the luxury around us.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged, trying to make a call despite the lack of service. We were far out from the mainland without another boat in sight.

  Carter had the binoculars out, searching for anyone nearby, and I went to try the engine again.

  “You’re going to flood it,” Harrison reminded me.

  “We don’t even know what that means,” I snapped at him, feeling useless. Between the four of us, one of us should have the skills to fix this situation. I was feeling my privilege like never before. I should know how to deal with this, but I didn’t have a clue.

  “Hey, I see a boat!” Carter ducked into the cabin and laid on the horn while the other two waved them down.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. The boat was big enough to give us a tow to the yacht club at the north end of the bay.

  I went out to join my brothers, waving at the approaching fishing boat. If this didn’t take too long, I could be back at my desk, elbows deep in vendor contracts before the afternoon was a complete waste.

  I lifted my hand, ready to shout my thanks when a familiar brown-haired figure waved back. “Oh, crap.”

  10

  Lena

  “Oh, crap.” I groaned, dropping my hand to shield my eyes. Freaking Conner Ashford, of all people.

  “We’re in it now, Lena.” Enzo steered our ancient fishing boat alongside the smallest of the Ashford family’s yachts. “Not like we can leave them stranded.”

  “You sure about that?” I avoided Carter’s face-splitting grin. I was still mad at him. Tried to be anyway, but I could never stay mad at him for long.

  “Enzo!” Carter whistled. “Mr. Fix-it himself.”

  “What’s the problem?” Enzo dropped the anchor, and we bobbed in the calm waters beside the luxury forty-foot yacht that probably cost more than Orchard Hill Farms was worth.

  “Won’t start.” Harrison Ashford shrugged. “And we’re useless.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Conner punched his cousin in the shoulder.

  “Wait here.” Enzo left the helm and boarded the yacht.

  “Not likely.” I followed him. If he needed any help, those four weren’t it.

  I tumbled onto the deck, slamming my hip, and was greeted by a massive brindled dog wearing a red doggy life jacket around his middle. He towered over me, sniffing my hair, and I wasn’t sure I should move. He had eyes like a wolf, but he wasn’t growling.

  “Duke, give the lady some room.” Conner absently called his dog back, but Duke had other plans. I scrambled back to my feet, and the giant dog sat back on his haunches, nudging my hand for head scratches. I didn’t even have to bend over to pet him. His head came up to my waist. “Well, you’re just a big sweetie, aren’t you?” I murmured, scratching behind his ears. “Too bad your dad’s a big land-grabbing meanie.” Duke and I went to join the others standing around speculating about what could be the trouble.

  “Did you guys check the engine?” I asked, turning to Carter. I might be mad at him, but he was the only Ashford brother I’d willingly speak to.

  “Uh.” Carter scratched his head. “I’m not even sure I know where it is.”

  Enzo chuckled and made his way down from the flybridge to the lower deck. All the Ashfords followed like little ducklings. I rolled my eyes and elbowed my way through the rich boys to help my brother open the fancy hatch in the floor.

  “Does she sound flooded?” Enzo asked, and I snickered at their blank stares.

  “Probably after Conner tried starting it a million times,” Carter offered.

  “Did not.” Conner swatted at his brother. “And don’t act like you even know what that means. Duke, seriously, leave her alone.” He snapped his fingers to get the dog’s attention. But Duke was my new bestie. I gave him shoulder scratches, and he leaned into me, eating up the attention.

  Enzo climbed down the ladder into the small space below deck. As far as engine rooms went, this was the cleanest one I’d ever seen.

  “What’s that noise?” Conrad leaned down into the hatch.

  “Sounds like you’re overheated,” I supplied. “You should have seen an alarm flash on the helm.” I watched as Enzo checked the engine water intake system. Sure enough, he pulled out a plastic bag and some other debris.

  “How’d that get in there?” Carter asked.

  “People throw their garbage into the bay, and it’s bound to get sucked into your engines.” Enzo looked up at the brothers. “Lena, go give it a try, I’m not sure that’s the only problem.”

  I waved Carter off and trotted back up to the flybridge,
Duke leading the way like a gentleman escort, passing through the main salon and galley. These Ashfords really knew how to do luxury.

  Duke let out a terrifying bark and sat back on his haunches, looking at me like he knew I could figure this out. Smart dog. “Ugh, really?” I flipped off the silent alarm flashing red on the dash. “They never even noticed that, did they?” Duke gave a massive yawn.

  I tried the ignition. Nothing. They were either out of fuel or they had air or water in the fuel system.

  Duke and I headed back to the boys, shoving through the Ashfords to get to Enzo. “Nothing.” I shook my head. “How’s their fuel?”

  “Nearly a full tank,” Enzo answered.

  “Air?” I asked, and he nodded, turning to climb up the ladder.

  “What’s that mean?” Carter asked.

  “Lena’s right, you probably have air in the fuel system. We’ll give you a tow to the marina on the south side.”

  “Air in the fuel system? That sounds bad.” Conner scratched his chin. “We should take it to the Bay Club on the north side.”

  Enzo shook his head. “It’s an easy fix. You probably have a leak in the pipe between the fuel tank and the injection pump. But we’re closer to south side, and we don’t have the horsepower to haul you all the way into the Bay Club.”

  “Fine. We’ll call for another tow once we’re in.” Conner dismissed us like we were servants and not good Samaritans helping them out of the goodness of our hearts.

  “The south side marina could fix it easy,” Enzo suggested. “It’s not a big repair, and they could use the business.”

  “My father would prefer to have the Bay Club specialists look at it. It’s a rather expensive boat, you know.”

  “Sure, sure.” Enzo nodded. “Let’s get you boys rigged and back to shore. Lena, can you pull ahead, and I’ll toss you the towlines.”

  Carter started clapping and hooting like a buffoon. “Lena, you’re my hero!” He draped an arm around me, whispering, “Don’t be mad,” in my ear.