A Smoking Bun by Ellie Alexander

Author:Ellie Alexander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

Chapter Sixteen

I tried to take Mom’s advice to heart as we piled into the car with Carlos, Luis, and Sophia. The sun accompanied us on our drive along the winding roads through wine country. Vineyards dormant for the winter dotted the hillsides. Grizzly Peak’s snow-capped ridgeline glinted with another layer of fresh snow that had fallen overnight. I had arranged for three stops on our wine tour, each with its own unique slant. The first was at RoxyAnn vineyards. The orchard estate had been owned and operated by the same family since the early 1900s. Originally an apple and pear orchard, the winery was aptly named after the prominent peak in its backyard.

“This is lovely,” Sophia commented as we approached the Honor Barn, a historic structure that now housed the tasting room.

Even though we were technically in Medford, the grounds had a bucolic country feel with the historic barn, outbuildings, grapevines, and views of RoxyAnn in the distance. Visitors could lounge in Adirondack chairs during the summer months or gather around outdoor fire pits.

“Just wait until you see the interior,” I replied. “They’ve renovated the inside with a bar, gift shops, and lots of cozy spots to linger and spend an afternoon tasting varietals.”

“They must be producing a good volume of wine,” Luis noted as we passed two large barns where the wine was barreled and bottled.

“Sí,” Carlos replied. “They are just a bit bigger than our operation at Uva. Two hundred acres, and they produce over thirteen thousand cases each year.”

Inside, the tasting room was warm and homey, with wood floors, barn signage, and wood-beamed ceilings painted bright white. The tasting room manager greeted us with small pours of their cabernet. “Welcome to RoxyAnn; make yourselves at home.”

“Salud,” Sophia said in return as the tasting room manager showed us our table by the window. It offered a view of the sloping vineyards where a family of deer was curled up between the vines.

The tasting manager explained that she’d be walking us through a tasting flight starting with arguably the most popular wine in the valley—pinot noir.

One of the perks of owning Uva was that we had built friendships with other vintners in the region. The wine community was highly supportive. We partnered for special collaborations, sent tourists along the Rogue Valley wine map to taste the variety of world-class wines produced in the region, and even pitched in during harvest to ensure every vineyard was picked. Not a single grape went to waste.

Carlos and Luis fell into a conversation about soil and why the valley exclusively produced red grapes. Sophia scooted her chair closer to me.

“It has been wonderful to stay with you. I hope it hasn’t been too much of an inconvenience.” Her face was soft and aglow from the sunlight filtering through the vast barn windows.

“Are you kidding? I love it. I just have felt bad not wanting to interfere with your time with Ramiro. We’re so grateful that you’re sharing him with us this year.”

“He is thriving.

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