Chapter 2
TWO
RONAN
TESTING LOCKS
I jangled the keys in my hand. Actual keys. No security protocols that made me feel like I was being microchipped, for fuck’s sake. I’d worked in so many electronic-based operations that anything analog now felt foreign.
But was that a bad thing?
Beckett and Hayes Manning had contacted—actually, more like ambushed—me and had thrown a stupid amount of money my way to come out here and work for them in Bumfuck, New York.
What the hell kind of name was Turnbull? When I Googled it, the first thing that came up was that it was in the top five places for snow. One hundred and fifty inches of fucking snow each winter on average, thanks to lake effect.
What?
That was just…disturbing.
But the next tidbit seemed to be the remarkable amount of apple orchards that were out this way. Goddamn apples as far as the eye could see. Not just on the Happy Acres acreage either. Drive down any road in the area and you’d trip over three orchards.
Complete orchards—and most of them weren’t mom and pop operations either.
Not to mention the wineries sprinkled into the mix.
I’d have to research that a bit more now that I’d accepted the position.
It was a pain in the ass to go all the way to the Northeastern half of the state to the visit the Catskills when Central New York was ripe for a wine and spirit expo.
I made a mental note to look into that as well. New York was a big state and I didn’t know all the ins and outs of how things worked here. I was surprised just how long it took to drive across the state lines.
I’d lived most of my life in major cities where apples were trucked into the markets and grocery stores and that was about it. Unless you took a road trip to check out the foliage and for a bit of time travel into rural America.
The last few years I’d lived in Chicago with a pit stop in Milwaukee to learn from the major beer markets from the ground up.
From yeast and hops innovations to bottling and distribution, I’d been involved with all of it.
I’d quickly discovered the nuts and bolts of a business weren’t for me and concentrated on becoming a brewmaster.
That was the magic and where I became obsessed with the chemistry and, more importantly, the instinct of it.
But beer wasn’t nearly as sexy as cider in my opinion.
Blends, soils, different fruits, and even spices could take the flavor profile from bland to outstanding. But I’d always been hamstrung by the almighty dollar.
Working with major bottling brands was good in theory, but they only cared about the bottom line, not the creativity of creating a small batch cider.
Until Beckett found me at a wine tasting in the Catskills last month.
I was fairly sure he’d stalked me. Damn that location option on my social medias.
I had to remember to turn it off, but I’d been interested in the apple wines and impulsively checked into the festival to hopefully link up with a few friends.
And now…I had a new job.
It included a bump of thirty percent in pay from my last job which was nice, but the creative control had really been the draw. With an option for stock if I wanted to stick around.
Fucking stock.
In a company.
Not just an employee number, bitch ass 401K, and a badge from human resources. I had a drawer full of badges from all the places I’d worked at—none had ever lasted long enough to get a scar on the plastic, let alone make me feel as if I’d belonged.
I jingled the keys in my hand again. Until this moment, when I’d stepped onto the porch of this rustic freaking building.
I tried to shake it off. I didn’t want to get excited, but every time I ignored my gut, it knocked me on my ass.
And I’d ignored it for too goddamn long.
The key slid into the lock and jammed a little. It took some jiggling to get it moving, but I had a feeling it was more due to disuse than a sign from the universe to hop back into my truck.
The lock finally clicked and I muscled the massive sliding barn door open. The track needed about a gallon of grease and oil, but that was easy enough to fix.
Cement floors gleamed in the patchy streaks of sunlight struggling through the old windows.
But I only had eyes for the weathered discovery bench in the center of the room.
A series of medium-sized tanks to ferment, steam, and clarify were waiting to be filled.
The brushed nickel tanks were dented and well-abused, but also taken care of.
Lovingly.
Beakers, torches, and droppers were lined up in individual slots with amber jugs and bottles ready for mixing.
Under the bench were more supplies like yeast and a mini-press to do my own fresh juice to toy with.
The back of the barn was full of larger equipment for bigger batches, but this space was definitely made for the creator.
A lab in the truest sense of my world.
Trunk freezers lined the wall, with one big ole fucking sunbeam leading me right to the one in the center. The urge to explore and catalog made my blood hum. To rearrange to my own preferences. Make it mine.
I needed it to be mine.
I tried to flip the freezer open and found the very first bit of electronic barrier.
“4-4-9-9.”
I turned toward the voice, my shoulders tight in reaction.
Hayes Manning leaned against the doorway, his hands tucked in his pockets in a deceptively relaxed stance. He wore cargo pants with the pockets bulging with God knew what and a Brothers Three Orchard T-shirt.
Hmm. That was different than the weathered sign I’d seen when I pulled into the orchard. Rebranding?
Interesting. I hadn’t really looked around when I arrived. I’d been too interested in the taproom setup and followed the signs accordingly. Hell, even the large industrial-looking barn labeled the taproom hadn’t been able to dissuade me from driving toward this particular old building.
I’d known it was mine before I could fully identify where I was supposed to be going. I wasn’t exactly a guy who believed in fate, but I knew when something felt right.
And this felt like I was supposed to find it. Or rather I was supposed to be found, because I sure as hell wouldn’t have imagined myself out here without an interesting invitation.
The Mannings didn’t take no for an answer anyway. Not that I’d tried very hard. I was pretty sure Beckett had done his homework. He’d hit me with far too many arrows on the first meet.
Hayes was the quieter Manning brother. Beckett knew how to turn on and off the charming tap depending on where he was, but based on my initial meet, Hayes was more reserved.
The man in question straightened and came farther inside. His dark-lensed glasses were shaded so I couldn’t read him.
I leaned against the freezer and waited him out.
“I filled the freezers with all the apples we have left from last year. I know frozen isn’t ideal for everyone, but we flash freeze a healthy batch for us to play with through the winter and summer. You should be able to thaw and ferment them at the same time.”
I nodded. “Actually works great for the kind of dry cider I like.”
Hayes came closer and his glasses transitioned to clear lenses.
“Same. At least until you can get some fresh product to use. I made sure you had an initial supply of all our apples to test. The far freezer includes some local orchards we work with as well. The one on the other end includes flash frozen berries and pumpkins we grow on site too.”
The little hairs on my arm lifted.
Testing.
Open options.
Not worrying about what was actually available to distributing centers in mass quantities.
Hayes’s mouth tipped up in the corner in a grin. “I’ll leave you to it. I know how it is to want your own space, Ronan. We want you as comfortable as possible. Between me and Kira, you should be able to work by tonight.” He paused for a moment, his gaze direct. “If you want.”
I wanted that.
It was hard not to look as eager as a puppy, but when his grin widened, I resisted the urge to curse. “I thought so. There are crates at the back of the room with older gear. I didn’t want to throw anything out—”
“No. Don’t throw anything out. I like using older bins, barrels, and steel for their different flavors.”
“I’m more on the spirits side of the operation, but I damn well know a barrel can make all the difference for flavor for both of us.
We have lots of different woods at our disposal and can pretty much get whatever you need.
” He raked his fingers through his short, choppy hair with a wince.
“Within reason. Kira Webb is head of the taproom and she’s hell with a budget. ”
I crossed my arms over my chest, the obsidian beads of my bracelets clacking together mirroring my annoyance. “I thought I had complete autonomy.”
“State your case and Kira will comply most of the time. She’s fair, but she won’t spend needlessly. You’ll have to have reasons for any specialty item. At least until you turn a profit.”
I lifted my chin. “Oh, you’ll see a profit.”
“What I like to hear. I’ll let you settle in.” As he was turning away, he thought better of it and faced me again. “Oh, we have a few cabins on the property if you want to use one of them until you find a place.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want something like an apartment. I wanted something for the long haul. “I’m good there. I found a rent to own place out on Route 40.”
“Even better. That one actually gets plowed.”
At my blank look, Hayes laughed again.
“What do you mean actually gets plowed? Doesn’t everywhere get plowed?”
“One would think. I’ll make sure to order chains for your truck when I get them for the staff.”
“Jesus.”
“You lived in Chicago. You’ll survive.”
Chicago was wind and city snow. Not chains on the road snow. “Do you really get over one-hundred inches of snow?”
“Yeah. Sometimes almost two.”
“Holy shit.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll find out the summers will test you too. Supposed to be over ninety-seven tomorrow. It’s pretty hard to cool the barns, but we have large fans.” He pointed up at the propeller-sized trio of fans overhead. “And you can open both barn doors for some cross breeze.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“I have no doubt. Beckett will be by later. Kira will probably stay out of your hair while she’s getting the taproom ready to go live with the updates we’ve done, but she’s your first line of defense for most anything you need. She’s been with us since I was a teen.”
“Cool. I’ll be sure to tag her if I need something.” I nodded to his T-shirt. “Is that another orchard?”
He glanced down at his chest. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons we wanted you on board.
We’re rebranding the orchard a bit. My folks are mostly retired now and we’re hoping to diversify the orchard.
We have the concert series which has done well for us and it was enough of a cash infusion that we could try the same with the taproom. ”
“Why I’m here.”
He nodded. “Exactly. If all goes well, we’ll move onto moonshine distribution in a few years.
Right now we do small batches for tastings.
We’re hoping that with some freedom, you’ll bring a little of that magic we’ve read about here to Brothers Three.
I’m particularly fond of your Sunset Sail blend from last year. ”
“Not even the one that I placed with.” Surprised he liked that more light, summery style, I smiled. “Figured you would be more for the spice like Killer Crush.”
“The horror blend was pretty awesome. You’re really good with the flavors.”
“Marketing department makes me sound way cooler, believe me.”
“Somehow I doubt that. You’ve already become a name in the up and coming cider masters. We’re hoping for a mutually beneficial relationship.”
“I don’t need to be stroked. I already took the job.”
Hayes tipped his head back and laughed. “Good. We’re more apt to trounce you in pool and darts at Lucky’s than stroke your ego.”
“Sounds like my kind of deal. Is that the neon shamrock monstrosity in town?”
“The one and only. Why don’t we meet there for dinner around seven? Serves decent pub grub and good beer. Nothing fancy.”
I dug out my phone and saw that it would give me about six hours to get the room just how I wanted it. “Sounds good.”
“Perfect. Welcome aboard.” He held out his hand.
I shook it. “Brothers Three has a nice ring to it. Will look good on a label.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
When Hayes left, I shrugged out of my vest I’d worn just in case my first day was a little more formal.
A vest over a T-shirt was about as dressed up as I got, especially on a warm July day.
I scraped my long hair up into a quick braided tail at the top of my head and snapped the elastic around the end.
I had a lot of work to do.