Kisses Sweeter Than Wine by Heather Heyford

Author:Heather Heyford [Heyford, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 26

The landscape surrounding Broken Hart Vineyards swept out before Red in the evening light like a painting, the house and outbuildings as much a part of the hillside as if they had grown out of the soil, just like the towering Douglas firs and the white oaks hung with mistletoe. Fertile vines dripped with fat, purple clusters. Everything was settled and orderly.

The bucolic sight should have calmed Red. Instead, it only served as a reminder of what she was missing. What her life had always missed.

A movement in the distance caught her eye, and she saw Junie putt putting along a row of vines atop her little orange tractor.

Red parked and found Manolo on the patio of the tasting room, sweeping beneath the tables and chairs.

“Junie’s out spraying. Probably be out there till dark.”

“She waved to me on my way in.”

“Beautiful evening. You’re welcome to wait. Something to drink?”

“No thanks. I came to see you, actually.”

“Me?” Manolo leaned on his broom handle and grinned. “Sorry, but I’m taken.”

“It’s about Sam.”

“Ah.” He went back to work. “Sounds serious.”

“You know that house I’ve been talking about?”

“The one you call the saltbox.”

“Did you know that’s the same house that Sam grew up in?”

He picked up a windblown branch too big for the dustpan and tossed it into a pile. “I’m from back east. Didn’t meet Sam till the service.”

She peered across the vineyard at the tractor. “I wonder if Junie knew,” she murmured.

“She didn’t say anything to me.”

She sighed. So she couldn’t find out anything about the house. There must be something Manny could tell her. “What was Sam like when you met him? What was his job?”

Manolo dumped the contents of the dustpan into a trashcan and propped the broom in a corner.

“Let’s go in.” He held the tasting room door open and followed her inside. “You know you’re the best thing that ever happened to Sam.”

Hearing that only worsened her growing guilt.

“Why do I have to hear that from you? Why doesn’t he tell me himself?”

“Sure you don’t want something to drink?”

“No, thanks.”

“You won’t mind if I do.”

Red expected Manolo to reach for a wine bottle. But instead, he poured himself a whisky, neat. He took a sip and set his glass on the bar with a tick. “What’s Sam told you about his time overseas?”

“Not much. That’s why I’m here. I was hoping maybe you could fill me in.”

“Not really my place.”

“Manny,” pleaded Red, leaning over the live edge slab of oak that was the centerpiece of the bar. “I’m at my wit’s end. I thought Sam and I were finally going somewhere. He was starting to open up to me. And then, this afternoon, I found out he lied to me about something so basic as the house he grew up in.”

She filled Manolo in about consulting with Sam’s dad. “Why would he do that? He knew how much that house means to me.”

“Tell me something,” said Manolo. “What makes someone decide to be a psychologist?”

Red shrugged and took a breath.

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