The Vineyard at Painted Moon

by Susan Mallery

  She wasn’t even surprised that her mother was looking for ways to make Mackenzie’s life difficult. “Our mother is a horrible woman.”

  “She’s never boring—I’ll give her that.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got my lawyer working on a parenting plan. There’s a minimum amount of visitation that’s considered acceptable. I’m going to ask for that. Plus I’ll have to pay child support, but that’s based only on my salary, not the trust or anything. I almost don’t care about the money. It’s everything else.”

  Stephanie knew that neither of them had expected a pregnancy, but she was still surprised at Rhys’s resistance to being a father.

  “Don’t go into this with the idea of being half-hearted,” she said. “Don’t let your child grow up knowing he or she isn’t wanted. That’s a devastating thing to do to an innocent kid. You’re not happy, but you’re not a bad person, Rhys. Don’t start acting like one now.”

  “Don’t judge me. Your life isn’t being twisted all around.”

  “You’re right. I’m also not the one who knocked up his wife, so there’s that.”

  He frowned at her. “You’re not being very supportive.”

  “You’re not being very human, so hey, we’re even.”

  * * *

  “We have to find a way to break the contracts with Mackenzie,” Barbara said as she walked into Lori’s office. “The ones for the wine royalties,” she added when her fat daughter stared at her in obvious confusion.

  “You can’t break them,” Lori said. “You went over them yourself and made sure Mackenzie could never get out of them. Remember how impressed the lawyer was?”

  Barbara wondered why everyone had to be so stupid all the time.

  “I’m not senile. Of course I remember. That’s not the point. There’s always a way out and I want you to call him and have him find it. Mackenzie is going to need the money to live on and I don’t want her to get it from me.”

  Lori, frumpy as always in her ill-fitting suit, hunched over in her chair. “Money isn’t a problem for her. She’s going into business with Bruno Provencio. He’s funding their purchase of Painted Moon. Mackenzie will pay him her share with the money she’s getting from the divorce.”

  Barbara glared at her. “Are you sure? How do you know that? Who told you?”

  “Herman told his foreman who told Jaguar when he was working on a tractor and Jaguar mentioned it to me. Bruno’s already in escrow with a condo by the golf course. He’s selling his wine distribution company and some other assets so he can focus on Painted Moon.”

  Barbara curled her fingers into her palms until her nails dug into her skin. “Why didn’t someone tell me this? Does Rhys know?”

  “I think so. She still lives with him so I’m sure they talk.”

  Outrage joined the fury. Everyone had turned their backs on her. Everyone wanted to hurt her and take what she had, even her own children. First Mackenzie left, then Stephanie quit and now Mackenzie was getting everything she wanted with the purchase of Painted Moon.

  “This can’t be allowed to happen. I was hoping she would go to a bank for a loan. I’d have leverage there, but if she’s partnering with Bruno, there’s nothing I can do.” She sank into the visitor’s chair and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “And to think I invited him to the Summer Solstice Party.”

  She looked at Lori. “We should have Mackenzie declared mentally unfit. She’s obviously not well. Who would I talk to about that?”

  “I don’t like her, either, but there’s nothing wrong with her brain.”

  “Oh, you don’t like her. Well, isn’t that nice.” Barbara stood. “She’s ruining us,” she shouted. “Ruining. Why am I the only one who sees that?”

  She stalked back to her office and slammed the door. The fury inside of her burned so hot, she thought she might set the building on fire. Something had to be done and everywhere she turned she was met with stonewalling and incompetence.

  She paced the length of her office. Bruno. She knew she couldn’t fight him—he played at a level she could only dream about. If he and Mackenzie went into business together, there was nothing to be done.

  Tears burned, but she blinked them away. No, she told herself fiercely. She would not be defeated. She was Barbara Barcellona and she’d faced worse than this. She’d survived the loss of her husband. She’d built Bel Après into what it was today. She’d had four small children and little help and she’d worked day and night to make the winery a success.

  She’d taught herself every aspect of the business. She’d stood against disbelievers, mostly men, who said she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t just survived, she’d thrived, and she’d created an empire. By God, she was not going to let some no-name interloper ruin her.

  * * *

  Signing the bridge loan paperwork with Bruno took about fifteen minutes. The purchase documents to buy Painted Moon were more complicated and required the services of a notary, along with what felt like a couple of hundred signatures, but by eleven on Wednesday morning, it was done. Mackenzie walked out of the escrow office with Bruno, not sure how much the weird feeling in her stomach had to do with her being pregnant and how much of it was a combination of excitement, nerves and a real sense of wishing the moment felt bigger.

  “Maybe I should have brought balloons or something,” she said as they stood together on the sidewalk. “I thought there would be more.”

  Bruno, back in one of his expensive and well-tailored suits, smiled. “Normally I would suggest a fancy lunch with champagne, but under the circumstances, that doesn’t feel appropriate.”

  She instinctively pressed a hand to her belly. “Yes, well, I would normally agree to the fancy lunch except I’m feeling a little queasy.”

  “Morning sickness?”

  “I think it’s more the fact that we bought a winery. How did it happen so fast? We made the offer six weeks ago.”

  “Having the cash helped.”

  She grinned. “Note to self—always go into business with a man with money.”

  “It makes life much easier.” He led her toward the parking lot. “Are you going to pick up your things at Bel Après now? If so, I’ll go with you to help you carry the boxes.”

  She tried not to roll her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of lifting a few boxes. Seriously, Bruno, it’s like five, maybe six. I’m only taking personal things. No box weighs over fifteen pounds. Besides, I took over most of my clothes yesterday, so there’s very little left.” She met his gaze. “Look at how determined I am. I’ll be fine.”

  “All right. I’ll accept that. I won’t like it but I’ll accept it. So you’ll get settled today, and in the morning, we’ll meet with the employees and talk about our plans for the winery.”

  “How many people do you think will want to stay on?”

  “If we’re lucky, eighty percent. If we’re unlucky, about half will leave.”

  She winced. “We’re only a week or so from harvest. I’d hate to go through that without a full team.”

  He looked at her, his brows raised. “We’re going to use mechanical harvest for everything this year.”

  Something they’d talked about and she’d agreed to. Technological advances meant all the old concerns about mechanical harvesting—bruised fruit, too much MOG (material other than grapes) and damage to the vineyards—were no longer a problem. The winery already had contracts for machines that could pick over a hundred thousand tons, or the equivalent to nearly sixty-five thousand cases of wine in a couple of days. The machines were cheaper and more reliable than training hundreds of workers to pick grapes by hand. It was the logical solution. And yet...

  “It makes me sad,” she admitted. “I miss harvesting by hand.”

  “Next year, when you get the vineyards in shape, you can handpick the premium g
rapes.” His tone gentled. “We have too many vineyards to harvest by hand. It would take too long and we’d lose acres of fruit.”

  “I know. You’re right. I can’t help it, I’m a traditionalist.”

  “And the best in the business.” He unlocked his Mercedes. “I’ll be at the house in a couple of hours to help you unpack.”

  She knew better than to tell him yet again that he didn’t have to. She’d spent the weekend collecting her personal belongings and stacking the boxes by the back door. There weren’t very many and she was sure she could be done in a single trip. She hadn’t taken very much with her. The furniture she’d ordered for the house was being delivered that afternoon.

  Mackenzie waved at Bruno and watched him drive away. She followed, trying to reconcile all the changes in her life in the past three months. She was on her way to a divorce, had bought a winery and was pregnant. While the divorce wasn’t happy news, leaving her marriage was the right decision. She should be pleased with how things were going.

  But as she drove toward Bel Après, tears spilled down her cheeks. No matter how promising the future, there were elements of her past she couldn’t help missing. Living close to her sisters-in-law, hanging out with the family. She’d missed the first day of school. She always joined Four and Stephanie as they walked the kids to the bus stop. But this year she hadn’t felt right joining in.

  She still missed Barbara. Not the horrible woman who yelled at her, but the kind, loving woman who had shared her dream of what Bel Après could become. Although based on recent behavior, maybe that had all been a sham.

  She was starting a new adventure and longing for the past, which made her feel foolish. But the sadness was real, and she supposed she simply had to work her way through it.

  “Rethinking your choice of parent?” she asked, lightly touching her stomach. “I’ll do my best to have my act together by the time you’re born.”

  She turned onto the long private driveway leading to the house where she’d lived for most of her adult life, trying to grasp the fact that, as of today, she didn’t live here anymore.

  She got out of her Jeep and walked to the back door. The boxes were right where she’d left them. As she worked, she half expected Stephanie or Four to stop by to tell her goodbye. Or even Rhys, who knew she was leaving today. But no one came.

  It took only a few minutes to get the boxes loaded. When that was done, she went inside and walked through the house one last time. Her closet was empty, as was the dresser in her bedroom. She’d already packed up her things from the bathroom. She went across the house to Rhys’s room and started to go inside, then stopped just before the doorway. No, she thought, turning away. She couldn’t go in there. Not anymore.

  Downstairs she double-checked her office. She’d left everything but the artwork her nieces and nephews had made for her along with a few personal photos. Funny how even without her things, the house looked as it always had. She was starting to wonder if she’d ever really belonged here at all.

  She walked into the kitchen and stood by the island. Aside from the low hum of the refrigerator, there was only silence. It was as if she were alone in the world. Her throat tightened and her chest hurt a little—symptoms of sadness she decided to ignore. This part of her life was over—it was time to move on.

  She pulled the house key from her jeans pocket and carefully put it on the counter, then went outside and started the Jeep. As she pulled out of the driveway, she had the thought that after sixteen years she should have more to show for her marriage and being a part of the Barcellona family. More than six boxes and the memories. But she didn’t, and maybe that was the hardest truth of all.

  twenty-four

  By three that afternoon, the last of the furniture delivery trucks had left. Pushed for time, Mackenzie had chosen the least amount of furniture she could get away with. She had a leather sectional and a TV in the living room, a bed, a nightstand and a dresser in the master, and a desk and chair in what was going to be her office. She’d decided to make the room with the big bay window the baby’s room, as Bruno had suggested. She would fill in things like a dining room table and side tables as she had time.

  It was only when she walked into the kitchen that she realized she had no dishes, no pots and pans, and nowhere to sit and eat her meals. She also hadn’t thought to buy towels or linens for the bed or pillows. Or food. Or toilet paper.

  Not her finest hour. She returned to the living room where she sat on the sofa and told herself she would be fine. This was a huge day for her, and she wasn’t going to let it be ruined by the fact that she’d forgotten the basics of living on her own.

  If only she didn’t feel so alone, she thought, trying not to be sad that she hadn’t heard from Stephanie or Four all day. They knew she was moving out. She would have thought at least one of them would have been in touch.

  “I’m fine,” she told herself, not caring that she was lying. “I’ll make a list and go to Walmart.”

  At least Herman had left her a washer and dryer. Once she had enough supplies to get by, she would spend at least an hour a week doing things like taking care of the house and buying supplies. Make that two hours a week—she was going to have to start cleaning and paying bills and doing laundry. As for her friends, well, they had lives. If she’d wanted company, she should have told them. Expecting them to read her mind wasn’t rational.

  She dug a notepad out of her backpack. The list of everything she thought she needed was nearly a page long when she heard a truck rumbling outside the house.

  She crossed to the front window and saw Stephanie’s car parking next to hers. Four’s SUV stopped behind her and a big pickup pulling a trailer circled around behind the cars.

  “What on earth?” She walked out onto the front porch and smiled at her friends. “Are you lost?”

  Stephanie and Four ran up to hug her. Their warm embrace chased away her sadness and made her feel loved again. She shouldn’t have questioned them—they were her family and always would be.

  “We came by last week,” Stephanie told her. “After you told me how little furniture you’d bought. Herman gave us a quick tour of the house. I knew you wouldn’t take anything from Rhys, because that would be weird, and I know you’ve been too busy buying the winery to think about things like getting milk and bread, so we’re going to help with that.”

  Four squeezed her arm. “I’m also here to do a quick cleanse of the house. I brought sage and salt. It won’t take long to have this beautiful house brimming with positive energy.”

  “So this is why you didn’t come say goodbye earlier,” Mackenzie said, fighting stupid tears. “I thought you were too busy.”

  “Never,” Stephanie told her. “We were planning a surprise instead.”

  “It’s a really good surprise. Thank you.”

  The three women hugged, then broke apart as Jaguar approached.

  “I hear you’re moving out,” he said with a grin.

  “I am.”

  “We have some stuff we don’t need, so we brought it here.”

  “I love castoffs.”

  Four put her hands on her hips. “Castoffs? I don’t think so.”

  Mackenzie followed them to the trailer and saw it was filled with furniture. There was a dining room set with a long table and six chairs. The old art deco piece had been stripped and painted pale green with beautiful flowers across the top. The chair cushions were a dark green velvet. There was a matching buffet with the flower motif on the drawer fronts.

  “No,” Mackenzie breathed, looking at Four. “You could sell this for thousands. I love it so much. Let me pay you for it.”

  Four smiled at her. “Or you could let me show you how much I love you and accept the gift graciously.”

  Stephanie put her arm around Mackenzie. “Gracious is not her thing. She’s too bossy.” She looked at Mackenzie. “Wait un
til you see the baby stuff. You’re going to cry so hard, you’ll embarrass yourself.”

  “There’s baby stuff?”

  There was a beautiful crib and changing table, a dresser and, most amazing of all, a wooden rocking chair.

  Stephanie ran her hands over it. “I love this chair. I rocked both my kids in it. I’ve had it in storage for, what, twelve years now. I think it needs a new home.”

  Mackenzie shook her head. “You can’t give this to me.”

  “I can, but if it makes you feel better, if I ever get pregnant again, you can give it back.”

  “Deal.”

  They carried the furniture inside. Her friends had thought of everything. There were lamps, throw rugs, an entry table, bookcases and waste baskets. Once the trailer was empty, Jaguar drove off, leaving the women to unload the two vehicles.

  By the time the bags and boxes were empty, Mackenzie had linens, dishes, flatware, pots and pans, and her refrigerator was full. Cleaning supplies sat under the sink, laundry detergent was up by the washer and hand soap had been distributed to all the bathrooms. Stephanie had even bought her a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. It was every Christmas and birthday rolled into one. Mackenzie had never felt so cherished in her life.

  A little after six, they collapsed on the new sofa. The scent of burning sage had faded, leaving behind the promise of something new and wonderful.

  “This is amazing,” Mackenzie said, fighting the tears Stephanie had promised she would shed. “You helped me make a home.”

  “You didn’t need us for that,” Four told her. “You bring home with you. We just took care of the details.” She looked around. “You’re going to be happy here. Of course without the resident chef, you’re going to have to learn how to cook.”

  “And pay bills,” Mackenzie admitted. “Rhys always did that. I was very fortunate in my previous life. But enough about me. How are the kids? Stephanie, when’s your interview? Four, what’s your latest art project? Tell me everything I’ve been missing.”