Page 97 of Red Mountain Burning
Unable to hold it another moment, a sob rushed out of him, and he let his head drop. “What have you done?” he asked himself again.
Never before had he felt so lonely. He’d been given another chance at life, and he’d squandered it. Loss and loneliness drowned him as he climbed the steps to retrieve the final bag. Coming back down, he put it in the back seat and shut the door. By then, she was standing on the driver’s side.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she stared at him.
“I still believe in you,” she whispered.
He removed his cap and put it to his heart. “Goodbye, Joan.”
She offered a faint smile and was off, riding back to her home on the Columbia River thirty minutes away, escaping the constant black clouds that seemed to hover over Till Vineyards and its lonely owner.
Otis sat on the front porch for a long time, stewing in the loss. Sometime later, the phone rang. He wouldn’t have answered it but was expecting a call from his lawyer, Theo, who was a fan of Till Vineyards and always happy to trade his services for wine.
“Otis, you’re one lucky guy,” Theo said. “I just talked to Bellflour’s lawyer, and he’s not pressing charges. For the assaultorthe alleged damage to vines with the smart valve.”
“That’s good to hear.” Otis wasn’t sure he cared. He was in prison whether he was behind bars or not.
Theo cleared his throat. “I get the feeling he’s trying to make friends on the mountain. That’s probably why he let you off the hook.”
More than anything, Otis just hoped all this would go away. He could only imagine what the wine world was saying about this YouTube video of him and Bellflour fighting in the gold concrete. The wine media seemed to eat up stories about his life.
“I appreciate your work, Theo, and I’ll send you a few bottles for your time. Just do me a favor. Don’t let the whole smart-valve thing get out. It’s honestly embarrassing.”
“Gosh, who could blame you, Otis. That’s why we all love your wines. Your dedication is unparalleled. Just keep it in between the lines from now on.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Otis ended the call and tossed his phone off the porch.
* * *
Emilia climbedthe steps to Brooks’s office and knocked. Once he’d invited her in, she took a seat opposite his desk and listened to him type the last of an email. Her heart pounded.
When he looked up from the computer, he said, “I’m assuming you came to gloat about your winning blend?”
Emilia smiled, and his comment distracted her for a moment. “That was one of the topics.”
“You have every right to, Em. You made me proud yesterday.”
“Just a little beginner’s luck.”
“I think it was a little more than that.” He closed his laptop and reached for an aluminum water bottle. “So, what’s up?”
Emilia clasped her hands together on her lap. “I’m not going back to school.”
“How did I know this was happening? Let me guess…you want a job?”
Emilia nodded. “I’m going to transfer to WSU, into the vinicultural program, but I’d like to stay here too. Study under you.” She noticed Brooks wasn’t as excited as she hoped he’d be. “Why do you look like you think I’m making a bad decision?”
Brooks held up his hands defensively. “Look, Em. I have to stay neutral on this. By no means do I think it’s a bad idea. It’s really not my say either way. But I’ll tell you this. You need to ask your parents. They’re the bosses. I appreciate your coming to me, and you know I’d give you a job. It’s their call, though.”
Emilia glanced back to the door, like someone might be listening. “My mom doesn’t want me to stay.”
Brooks nodded. “I know.”
“She told you?”
“Don’t get me in trouble, Em, but yes, she told me she’d like you to go back to New York.”
Emilia’s jaw tightened. “What the hell does she know? She comes back from rehab and thinks she’s…a saint. Whose life am I living? Mine or hers?”
