Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
T he vineyard's gentle slopes had transformed into rivulets of rushing water, carving paths through the saturated earth. The air was thick with the scent of wet soil and crushed vegetation, a reminder of what they stood to lose.
Rachel's boots sank with every step, the mud gripping her ankles like quicksand. Jack’s words echoed in her mind: "The vines are like family—they need care, patience, and sometimes rescue."
"This way," Jack called, his voice steady despite the downpour. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating rows of struggling vines—her inheritance, her responsibility. She remembered the day she'd first arrived, overwhelmed by the vastness of it all, but Jack had been there then too, teaching her the rhythms of the land.
“How much more do we need to cover?” she shouted, her words nearly swallowed by the storm.
“Just this last section,” Jack replied. “Then we’re done.”
Rachel nodded, though her arms ached and her clothes clung to her like a second skin. She knew the tarps wouldn’t solve everything, but they could divert enough water to prevent the worst of the damage. At least she hoped so.
They worked in near silence after that, the rhythm of their movements punctuated by the hammering rain. By the time they finished, Rachel’s muscles burned, and her breath came in short, sharp bursts. Jack gave her a quick nod as he secured the final corner, then motioned toward the main building.
Inside, the warmth hit her like a wave, and Rachel peeled off her soaked jacket, shivering as the chill lingered. Jack was already by the fire, rubbing his hands together to coax back circulation. His face, usually so composed, was marked by faint lines of exhaustion—but not worry. That absence gnawed at Rachel.
She perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes fixed on Jack as he stretched his legs out and stared into the flames. “How bad is it?” she asked finally, her voice quieter now that they were indoors.
Jack turned to her, his expression calm. “It’s not great,” he admitted. “But it’s not the end of the world either. The forecast says the rain’s letting up tomorrow. Once things dry out, we’ll assess the damage and go from there.”
“You don’t seem too worried,” Rachel said, studying him. She wanted to believe him, but the anxiety coiled tightly in her chest refused to loosen.
Jack offered a small smile. “Because I’ve been through worse.” He leaned back, running a hand through his damp hair. “There was a year when I was a teenager—we had a flood worse than this. Lost half the crop. I thought my dad would lose his mind. But we rebuilt. We learned. That’s how this business is. Every experience, good or bad, is an education.”
Rachel looked down at her hands, still streaked with dirt. “I feel like I should know all of this by now. How to tell if the vines are okay, what’s fixable and what isn’t. I’m still playing catch-up.”
Jack’s voice softened. “You’re learning, Rachel. You’ve already come so far. And no one expects you to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t have all the answers.” He reached out, his fingers brushing hers. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Rachel met his gaze, and for the first time that evening, she felt the knot of worry begin to unravel. Jack's confidence was steadying, like the solid ground beneath her feet after hours in the storm. She caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window—two people brought together by circumstance, now facing whatever came next as one. She nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at her lips.
"Together," she echoed, and meant it.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, but its rhythm seemed less insistent now, more like a lullaby than a threat. The scent of damp earth drifted in through the cracks, mingling with the warmth of the fire and the faint, ever-present perfume of the vines. Rachel knew there would be challenges ahead—the vineyard would demand everything they had and more—but for now, she allowed herself to believe that they would weather them, just as they had weathered this storm, their shared determination stronger than any force nature could unleash.
The bell above the door jingled as Hannah stepped into Aurora’s shop. The warm, familiar scent of sandalwood greeted her, a stark contrast to the humid June air outside. Aurora looked up from the counter, her smile lighting up the room.
“Hannah, what a nice surprise!” Aurora said, setting down the ledger she had been reviewing.
Hannah hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room. “Hey Aurora, I love the new flowers in the window box.”
“Pansies. They’re so colorful and after a while when I change out the flowers, I eat them.”
Hannah laughed. “You eat the pansies?”
“Sure, why not. They’re edible, and I haven’t been poisoned yet. So, what brings you here this rainy morning?”
Hannah figured she might as well get right to the point.
“I’ve been thinking,” she began, “about the shop. About…everything, really. Would you mind meeting with me, Rachel, and Jack to talk more about my taking it over? I’d like to go over the financial details, and heaven knows I’m not that savvy with numbers. If I do this, I want it to be a success. I’d be devastated if all your work here was destroyed.”
Aurora’s eyes widened slightly before her smile deepened. “Nonsense. You’ll be fine, and of course, I’d be happy to meet with them. I think it’s a wonderful idea. It sounds like you’re seriously considering it.”
“I am,” Hannah said, her cheeks flushing. “I’ve even enrolled in a Small Business class at Periwinkle Shores High School. The first class is tonight, actually.”
Aurora clasped her hands together. “That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you. It’s a big step, but you’re taking it.”
Hannah nodded, feeling a flicker of pride despite her nerves. “I want to do this right. But I also was wondering…when do you plan to leave for California?”
Aurora’s expression turned thoughtful. “By the end of the summer, if all goes well. That should give us enough time to transition everything. And I was thinking…you should come work here for the summer. Bring your jewelry to sell, and I’ll train you on how I’ve been running the shop all these years.”
Hannah’s heart quickened. “Work here? Full time?”
“It’ll give you hands-on experience,” Aurora said. “And you’ll have the chance to meet the customers, learn the ins and outs of inventory, bookkeeping, all of it. If you’re going to take this on, you might as well start now.”
Hannah let the idea settle in. It was daunting, but the thought of stepping into Aurora’s shoes—of making the shop her own—filled her with a sense of possibility. “Okay,” she said finally. “Let’s do it.”
Aurora’s smile was radiant. “That’s the spirit. You’ll be great, Hannah. I just know it. And…”
“What is it?” Hannah asked.
“Am I being selfish to want to spend time with my daughter? You and I haven’t had much time to get to know each other. Now that I’m leaving at the end of the summer, I was hoping these next weeks would give us a chance to change that.”
It was an honest sharing of her feelings, and Hannah smiled at Aurora’s words.
Hannah shook her head. “No, it’s not selfish. I’d like that too.”
For the first time in months, Hannah felt like she was stepping onto a path that felt right, even if she couldn’t yet see where it would lead. That her biological mother was part of that path made her heart swell and she was certain her mother in heaven approved.