Chapter 39
Thirty-nine
Ryker
Ginny’s already sitting up when I crack my eyes open the next morning, squinting against the slice of light bleeding through the curtains. She’s still, her knees pulled to her body and her eyes on something I can’t see.
“Did you sleep?” I ask as I raise my head, though I already know the answer.
She shakes her head. “Not a second.”
I groan and flop back into the pillow, instantly regretting it. My skull pulses like I’ve got a jackhammer wedged behind my eyes. My mouth tastes like the wrong end of a whiskey barrel. “God. Why did I do shots with Caleb?”
Ginny doesn’t answer, just reaches for the coffee she’s set on the nightstand. She hands it to me silently, and I grunt a thanks before taking a sip.
“Remind me not to toast your toast again,” I mutter. “Too much tequila. Not enough sense.” I sit up, rubbing a hand over my face. “Hey. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. Sorry you couldn’t sleep.”
She waves it off. “It’s fine. I just couldn’t shut my brain off. I kept thinking about what’s coming.”
Right. The meeting. The one we all agreed to postpone until after the wedding to keep from ruining Beckett and Sadie’s day. Dad and Tarryn tried to see Evelyn during the reception, but they couldn’t get in.
Which means today’s the day.
I drag in a breath and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Elise is bringing her test kit. I guess I’m tagging along since I caught Zach with the drum.”
Ginny nods, still hugging her knees. “Vicky is going to try to talk your dad out of going since every time he and Evelyn get together it ends in a screaming match. Tarryn and Elise are going to be the ones to tell Evelyn. No pretending, no spinning the story. Just the truth.”
That surprises me. “Not softening the blow?”
“Nope. Tarryn considered floating a lie—have Elise and Josie ‘discover’ the issue together—but she asked what I thought, and I told her it felt wrong. She agreed.” Ginny finally looks at me. “So now they’re falling on their swords.”
“When did you talk to her?”
“Before the wedding.”
I nod, trying to focus through the pounding in my skull. “It’s probably smart. The vines are already dying. Might as well get it over with.”
Ginny exhales. “I told her thank you for leaving me out of it. But it seems I’m the only one who can get them inside.”
My gaze sharpens. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“Yeah, but I think I do.” She stands and walks toward the window. “When this comes out, Evelyn’s not going to care who poured what. All she’ll see is that I’m still with you. Still on the wrong side.”
I don’t have a good answer for that. I just walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, pressing my forehead to the back of her shoulder.
She relaxes into me, just for a second. “I need you to remember that she’s not me. She may say terrible things, but that doesn’t make them true. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me, Ginny. There’s nothing she could say that would change my opinion of who I know you to be.”
She turns to look at me. “Thanks.”
I hug her close, and then we both let go. Let the fireworks begin.
We meet Tarryn and Elise at my parents’ house and drive over to Black Bear Winery in my Armada.
Elise double-checks the box of soil samples in her lap while Tarryn scrolls through something on her phone. Every pothole slows us down. Ginny watches the road like she’s willing it to be straighter, smoother, anything but this rutted mess.
The tasting room comes into view, and the parking lot is mostly empty, except for a few trucks and delivery vans.
Black Bear isn’t open for tours today, but a few staffers are moving around, and they pause mid-task as we pull in.
No one says anything, but the stares follow us all the way from the gravel lot to the front steps.
Ginny texted Sera to tell her we were coming, and Sera’s waiting just outside the door, her face tight. Her eyes widen slightly as we come walking up, but she nods and opens the door without comment.
“Gran is in her office,” she murmurs, stepping aside so we can pass. “Josie’s with her.”
Ginny leads us through the tasting room, past rows of empty wine barrels and polished counters. Every footstep echoes loudly. People stare. Their eyes track Ginny, wide and unblinking, like she’s grown a second head.
My heart pounds, but I keep moving. Ahead I spot Monica, and I want to tell her what she’s done to her daughter, but I can’t stop. Not now.
When she sees us, she freezes for a split second before turning to duck down a side hall without a word.
Coward, I think bitterly. But the sting fades fast. What else do I expect? She’s relied on Evelyn most of her adult life. Choosing silence over conflict isn’t cowardice. It’s survival.
Ginny slows at the carved oak door of Evelyn Dempsey’s office and glances back at the three of us behind her. Tarryn gives her a small nod. She knocks once and doesn’t wait for a reply, just swings the door open.
Evelyn Dempsey looks up from her desk with the kind of expression that makes grown men forget how to breathe. Her sharp blue eyes cut through the air like blades.
She doesn’t stand. Doesn’t speak.
She just waits.
Tarryn breaks the silence, stepping forward like a general entering enemy territory.
“We’ve found the source of the sabotage,” she says. “The well on the eastern edge of the property—the one our families share—has been tampered with.”
Evelyn’s gaze sharpens, but she stays silent.
Tarryn continues. “It was our cousin Zach.”
The name hangs in the air like a gunshot.
“We caught him two nights ago,” Tarryn continues. “He poured fifty gallons of vinegar into a five-hundred-gallon water pony. We stopped him as he was preparing to put it into the well.”
Evelyn’s pen drops from her hand and clatters against the desk.
Her jaw tightens. “Where is he?”
“We confronted him,” I tell her. “And he ran.”
Evelyn’s eyes flick to mine, and I see it—shock, fury, maybe even a flicker of fear. But it’s gone just as quickly, masked behind a wall of granite resolve.
She stands slowly, placing her hands flat on the desk. “You’re telling me,” she says carefully, “that a Paradise boy was caught red-handed poisoning the only remaining water source on that slope, and now, he’s vanished?”
“He was acting alone,” Elise adds quickly. “We believe he had his own agenda. We don’t think the rest of the Paradise family knew anything about it.”
“That’s convenient,” Evelyn snaps, eyes darting toward Ginny, then me. “Very convenient.”
“He’s Chereen’s boy,” Tarryn says, as if that explains something. Maybe it’s something Evelyn can understand. She does seem to register it.
I take a breath. “We’re not here to use him as a scapegoat. We’re here to tell you the truth. To stop this before it gets worse. Before someone gets hurt.”
“That level of acidity could’ve destroyed both our vines permanently if left untreated,” Elise continues. “Zach wanted to cause lasting damage, not only to our land, but to our relationship.”
Tarryn steps in. “Paradise Hill will replace any vines that were destroyed. We will also compensate you for the loss of revenue over the next five years while our vintners work together to fix the soil and grow healthier vines.”
Evelyn stares at Tarryn, her mouth set in a hard line. “You think this is going to fix everything? That I’ll just forget?”
That stings. But what else can we do? Rebuilding trust takes time. Especially when at least one party doesn’t want to.
There’s a long pause. Josie’s frozen by the window, Tarryn lingering near the doorway, both of them looking like they’re not sure if they should jump in or run.
Then Evelyn looks at each of us and turns slowly back to Ginny. “You said caught. Did you witness it?”
“We found the vinegar drum and a funnel, and then Ginny, Ryker, and I caught Zach with a hose near the well cap,” Tarryn explains. “His fingerprints are on the containers. And there’s security footage, though it’s grainy.”
Evelyn lets out a breath through her nose. “I want that footage,” she says. “And I want the full report. If you find him before I do, you bring him to me.”
If Evelyn Dempsey gets to Zach first, she won’t be asking any questions. She’ll be burying the answers.
Tarryn speaks again, her voice firm but respectful. “We’ll take responsibility for what was done. There doesn’t need to be any blood loss.”
Evelyn looks at Tarryn a moment and then nods. Josie’s head jerks toward her in surprise, but Sera places a hand on her arm.
“I’ll work directly with you,” Tarryn continues, her gaze moving between the Dempsey sisters. “Sera, Josie, I’d like to coordinate efforts. You know this land better than anyone.”
Evelyn’s lip curls slightly, but she doesn’t argue.
Tarryn squares her shoulders. “I also want to be your contact at Paradise moving forward. Leave my dad and Max out of this.”
My heart thuds. Evelyn’s expression falters, not in anger, but recognition. Tarryn’s not just speaking for us. She’s leading us. And maybe that scares Evelyn the most. Tarryn doesn’t play by the older generation’s rules.
Evelyn’s eyes narrow. She stares at Tarryn, assessing, then slowly nods. “Fine. We’ll start there at least.”
“We’ll send you everything we have,” Elise says. “Footage, soil tests, fingerprints—everything.”
I nod and turn for the door, Tarryn and Elise behind me.
Ginny moves to come with us, but Evelyn’s voice stops her cold.
“Ginny. Stay.”
My stomach drops. I glance at Ginny, and she gives me a nod.
“I’d like Ryker to stay with me,” she says.
Evelyn’s shoulders drop. “Really?”
“Yes.”
Tarryn closes the door behind her, and we’re left alone with the woman who’s ruled this family with an iron will and a ledger book for as long as I can remember.
She sits down again, folding her hands on the desk like she’s preparing to dissect me.
We stare at each other for a long beat. And then she says, “You’re in love with my granddaughter.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement.
“Yes.”
She exhales through her nose, like that one word confirms every fear she’s ever had. “Do you understand what that means?”
“Yes,” I say again. “I’d do anything for her.”
Silence stretches between us.
Then, with a voice like gravel, she mutters, “Be careful what you pledge. That cost me my sister-in-law, not to mention my children. Every generation has its tragedy when our families cross lines. You will be yours.”
I take a breath and step closer. “I’m not asking for permission. But I am asking for peace.”
Her stare is arctic. “Peace isn’t part of our legacy.”
“This family has been at war for longer than I’ve been alive,” Ginny says. “I’m done fighting battles I didn’t start and I’m not letting them decide my future.” With that, she turns and walks out.
I watch her go and turn back to Evelyn. “I think that tells you where we stand. I love Ginny. And loving her might cost me, but losing her would cost me more.”
And that’s the difference between us, I add silently. I’m willing to take a risk for something real. Evelyn’s only ever fought to keep what she controls from falling apart.
She waves me off with a flick of her wrist. “Go.”
I hesitate. “Evelyn—”
“Go before I say something I’ll regret.”
So I do.