Page 183 of Mad As Hell

“I guess.”

I nudged his side. “No guessing. It is.”

“Fine. But the land is where the value is. The winery is worth exponentially more. My great-great-grandfather started it. Planted the first crops with his own hands. It was a small farm, and then things took off. Now their wine is sold and distributed across six continents.” A look of pride entered his gaze as he led me to the edge of the fence that separated the empty field where the horses grazed and the first rows of the vineyard. Across the field I could make out a training arena for the horses.

He led me up a small hill, and I gasped when I saw the valley below. It was filled with row after row of fences that would hold and grow countless grapes when the next season began. I could only imagine how beautiful it would be to see the land before me lush with potential. To the left was a large, stone building that butted up against a copse of trees. Beyond that was a row of small cabins and one larger cottage.

“Holy crap,” I breathed, taking in the scope of the operation. It was so massive, I couldn't even see where it ended.

“The winery is in that building.” He pointed to the largest. “The manager lives in the bigger house, and the rest of the team live in the smaller ones. There’s a set of barracks toward the back part of the farm where we have bunks for use during picking seasons. Sometimes we hire five hundred people for the season, if it’s a good year.”

“Does your grandfather still run things?” I turned to him, curious about how involved his family was.

He shook his head. “No. Not anymore. He’s technically the CEO, but it’s a title on paper only. The manager runs the day-to-day operations.”

“And they’ll be CEO when your grandfather…” I couldn’t finish the question.

“No, I will be. I’m the executor of the estate until one of my children, or Cori’s, comes of age to take over.” He looked around, surveying what would eventually be his kingdom. “The guidelines of the executorship maintain that I can’t sell off or break up the company. It’s protected for the next generation.”

I pulled him to a slow stop. “So, you’re running Phoenix, finishing college, starting quarterback for a D-1 school, and going to be running a winery?”

“And getting married.” He winked at me, but I saw the stress lines pulled tight around his eyes.

Unable to help myself, I reached up to try and smooth them away with my fingertips. “That’s a lot, Ry.”

“There’s no other choice,” he replied, his hand molding to my hip. “Besides, the manager will stay on to help. Kevin has been with the company since before I was born. He loves it as much as Grandpa.”

“Not for the foreseeable future,” I muttered, shaking my head. Being at Brookfield was a nice break from the chaos of our lives, but I also knew we were living in a bubble that would eventually burst.

In a few days, we would be back to our reality where lives literally hung in the balance. It was exhausting. Sometimes I wondered if it would ever end.

My shoulders slumped, but Ryan was quick to bend at the knees and meet my eyes. He gently lifted my chin up with his knuckles.

“Maddie, we—”

“Will get through this,” I finished for him. “How are you not exhausted? It doesn’t seem like we’ll ever be on the other side.”

“We will,” he promised, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against the hard wall of his chest. “One of these days, we’ll be standing here with our kids running around playing.”

I dropped my head back with a half-laugh, half-groan. “Oh, yeah? And how many kids are we having in this future?”

“Seven?”

I pulled back immediately, like I could get pregnant from a hug. “Are you birthing five of those?”

He grinned at me. “Split the difference at five?”

Smiling, I patted his cheek. “Sure, babe. As soon as you figure out how to get pregnant three times on your own.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, we’ll talk about it another time.”

I snorted but didn’t argue with him. Last I checked, it was my uterus, so that entitled me to the majority vote in what happened with it.

Speaking of majority…

I leaned against Ryan’s shoulder and inhaled deeply, the warm scents of fall and earth filling my nostrils. “We just need a way to take down Gary and Beckett. They’re the money behind it all. If we can back them into a corner, we might get an advantage.”

“They’re the first domino,” he agreed, frown lines appearing between his eyes. “Taking them down is the first step, but…”

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