“How long will you ferment?” I ask.
“Until all the sugar is converted to alcohol,” Dale says. “I want the driest wine possible. It takes about a month, usually.”
“Are you using ICV isolates?” I ask.
“Someone’s done her homework.” Ryan winks at me.
“I am almost a doctor of wine, after all,” I taunt him. “D254, then?”
“I’m not that predictable,” Dale says.
“You’re really not using D254?” I ask. “That’s the most popular strain to use with Syrah for that lushness in the mouth.”
“It is,” he agrees, “but I choose to make my wines a little less ordinary.”
I can’t help smiling at the burst of pride I feel for my husband. He’s truly a genius at this. He knows things I can never learn in a classroom. He’s in his element here, creating. For a moment, I almost think he’s forgotten that this is only half of what he expected to harvest this season.
“I hope you’re planning to leave early,” Ryan interrupts. “I am, for the big party tonight.”
Dale goes rigid.
I’ve seen this side of him before. Anytime there’s a big party. It’s not his thing.
Of course, I love parties. I shrug. Opposites attract, they always say.
The whirring of the crushers as they’re extracting juice from the Syrah grapes mesmerizes me.
Tomorrow, I’ll truly see Dale in action. I’ll watch him choose the strains of yeast, and I’ll learn the Steel secrets. For this is Dale’s wine. Ryan already gave him control over the old-vine Syrah. After this season, Dale will have control over everything after Ryan retires.
I’ll be mistress of Steel Vineyards.
Still seems unreal yet very real, if that makes any sense at all.
This is a wonderful day.
And tonight…we celebrate.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Dale
They didn’t feed us today.
Did they forget?
More likely they’re trying some new kind of torture.
Donny and I have been in this room for a week now. At least I think it’s a week. There are no windows, so I don’t really know how much time has passed.
We’ve gotten three meals a day up until now. Usually bread and water, but sometimes some meat or eggs. No vegetables, which is fine with Donny. He hates everything green.
They’ve smacked us around a lot. Donny has a black eye, and I’ve got bruises everywhere.
That’s all they’ve done.
But I know what’s coming.
My little brother doesn’t. He’s only seven, and he doesn’t know what awaits us.
I do.
I’ve heard about child molestation. Child rape.
Yeah, it can happen to boys too.
It won’t happen to Donny, though. Not on my watch.
Willow and Dennis are getting along great with everyone in my family, just like Ashley when she first showed up. Brock, of course, turns on the charm and flirts audaciously with the newly married Willow.
The man has no shame. She’s old enough to be his very young mother.
I’m not sure Brock knows how not to flirt.
“Thanks a lot for inviting us to your wedding,” Donny says sarcastically, flanked by Diana and Brianna.
I move my gaze from Brock to my three siblings. “It was spur of the moment.”
“Apparently.” Donny claps me on the back. “I’m happy for you, bro. Though I should have been there to give you away.” He chuckles.
“You’d have been the best man,” Bree laughs. “Dee and I could give him away.”
“Hey,” I say to Donny, “I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’d say you were thinking clearly for the first time in a long time,” he says.
“I mean, about the best man. You should have been there.”
“We’d have all loved to have been there,” he says, “but Dale, none of us wanted you to end up alone.”
“Ashley’s great,” Dee says. “I’m so happy for both of you.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“You love her, right?” Dee hedges.
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“She’s been through some stuff.” Dee bites her lower lip.
And I haven’t?
I don’t say that, because Dee doesn’t know.
Donny does, though, and his eyes take on a haunted look.
Every once in a while, he remembers. He thinks about it.
Not nearly as much as I do, though. I’d hate it if he did.
“I love her,” I say with conviction.
It’s true. No matter what else sits in my way, loving Ashley isn’t part of it.
“I have to say,” Donny says, “she isn’t the type of woman I ever thought you’d go for.”
“True!” Bree agrees. “I figured Dale would go for a strong and silent type.”
“Then they’d never talk!” Donny laughs at his own joke.
My sisters and brother continue to talk as they always do, while I nod and add a word or two here and there.
Until—
Shit. A tall redhead catches my eye. Brendan Murphy is here.
And he’s talking to Ashley.
For God’s sake, Dale. She’s your wife. There’s nothing to worry about.
Still, I excuse myself and stalk toward them.
“Hey, there’s my hubby!” Ashley grabs my arm, linking hers through it.
“Congratulations, Dale.” Brendan holds out his hand.
“Thanks.”
“Thank you for inviting me to the reception.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, somebody did.” He winks at Ashley.