Chapter 23
Raine
The next morning, engines echo through the valley.
I step onto the porch, curious as to what’s going on. My coffee mug is halfway to my lips when I freeze.
A caravan of trucks snake up the driveway, tarps and lumber piled high. Men in work gloves hop out, waving like it’s an ordinary day.
“Morning, Miss Voss!” one of them calls. “I’m Gregory. We’re here to start on the railing and cellar repairs.”
“I—what?”
He grins, wiping sweat from his brow. “Permits, supplies—everything cleared through the board yesterday. Mr. Blackwell handled it personally.”
My jaw drops.
He gestures toward the vines. “Said you’ve got big plans for this place. Told us to help you make it happen.”
I should be furious.
Instead, something soft twists inside me.
As the crew gets to work, Gregory lingers, telling me he’s the foreman, giving me some historical information about his company.
Then he grows pensive, his eyes moving to me. “Tristan’s always been different. His dad’s death made him older than he should’ve been. But when his mom passed? That’s when he closed off. Said she died of a broken heart. Truth is, it broke him.”
I stare at the vineyard—the same land he once wanted me to leave—and the wind moves through it like forgiveness.
My heart shouldn’t bleed for him. I shouldn’t feel sympathetic.
But I do.
Every day, the crew returns.
Every day, progress on the vineyard and house blooms.
And every night, I catch myself looking toward the ridge, half-expecting to see that black truck in the distance.
Missing him hurts worse than hating him ever did.