Page 66 of A Taste of Chardonnay

I stopped at a familiar clearing, letting myself absorb the stillness. The nurse had seemed nice, but more importantly, she seemed competent. She said all the right things and even got Ron to smile a few times. He mostly mumbled through the introductions, but he never objected. She assured me they were good, and I hoped she was right.

Jack nudged my hand, and I reached down to scratch his ears. “All right, boy, we’ll keep moving.”

With a bark, Jack led the way, and I followed. He’d been adjusting to this new life as much as I had. When we were on babysitting duties, Fanny didn’t give Jack a moment's rest. My poor pup was always on edge, waiting for that damn cat to swat his snout or attack his tail.

It had always been me, Jack, and the distillery, where I had the mornings free to do whatever we pleased. But over the last few months, so much had changed. Balancing Ron’s care, managing the growing popularity of the tasting room, and the endless complications that came with both. The thing with Ron was only supposed to be temporary, but even with the nurse, it didn’t feel temporary at all.

Even now, I was checking my phone, waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it would. It always did. And what ifIhad kids someday?

The unexpected thought was like a sucker punch to my gut. I braced myself against the hard bark of a tree. I didn’t want kids. Never had. Ron was a horrible father—angry, unpredictable and absent. I would never bring a kid into this world knowing I had ties to that. And yet, the vision popped into my head so effortlessly. A child with Chardonnay’s dark brown eyes and my height, running after Jack, laughing while Chardonnay followed, ready to catch the teetering child.

I ran a hand over my hair, trying to figure out where the hell that thought originated. And though I tried to shove it away and forget it ever appeared, it was like a seed taking root in my mind. Did Char want kids? I’d never asked. Never thought I’d need to. Besides, we just put our swords down.

With her parents officially retiring and everything with Ron, neither of us had the time for kids. Then again, Franc didn’t either, and he found a way to make it work. Gio was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him.

Kids.

The idea was terrifying, making me think of all the ways I could fail, but it also didn’t make me want to shut it down completely. There was some joy there, an inner peace I’d only felt standing at the top of this mountain, looking out over the landscape that made me who I am.

“Jesus.” I tugged on two pieces of my hair, tightening the tie that held it in place. Jack barked ahead, impatient with my inability to keep up. I forced myself to press on, but instead of leaving the thought behind me, I carried it for the rest of the hike.

Finally, back at the truck, feeling lighter and refreshed, I slipped my phone from my pocket and went to place it in its holder when the screen flashed with an incoming call.

Sharon, the nurse, was calling.

I sighed—grateful for the moment of pretending like everything was going to be okay—and answered.

“Hi, Sharon. What’s going on?”

“Nothing at all. I was just about to make Ron some lunch and realized there are no knobs on the oven.”

A slight laugh rumbled in my throat, relief spreading through me like a freight train. “They are in the cabinet above the fridge. We had an incident where he left the burner on and filled the house with propane.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Understood. I’ll put it on to cook, then take it off.”

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you. Anything else?” I asked, before hanging up.

“No, that will do it. Thanks.”

I ended the call and rested against the headrest. Maybe the other shoe wasn’t going to drop. Maybe, for once, the universe would cut me a break.

“Ready to head to the distillery and see Meadow?” I asked Jack, who barked in reply. I’d finally given Meadow a key, so she didn’t have to rely on me to let her in. She hadn’t worked for me for long, but she’d proven herself time and time again. And she’d been a godsend while I’d been called away from the distillery to deal with Ron.

I got onto the main road and immediately came to a crawl. Albert was on his fucking tractor, holding up traffic again. The people who didn’t pass him were most likely tourists and losing their damn minds as Albert switched into a lower gear.

Normally, I’d pass him, but I had about three cars in front of me, so I relied on the next best thing and blared my horn. The old bastard threw up the bird, but when I beeped again, he glanced over his shoulder at me. He eased the tractor toward the shoulder of the road, allowing cars to pass. I pulled up beside the old bastard and rolled down the window.

“You’re going to cause someone to have a damn coronary one day.”

A sly smile curved his lips up into his weathered cheeks. “If they’re in that much of a hurry, then they shouldn’t be on these roads. Slow living is what keeps the heart ticking.”

“Slow living is one thing, but you’re making these tourists rethink their vacation plans.”

“Good. We don’t need their whiney bullshit, anyway.”

“Yes, you do. Their money keeps you in business.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

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