AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I tried cutting the crusty loaf with my knife.
“Don’t stand on ceremony. Pull it apart.” He gave me a lop-sided smile. “Bread tastes better pulled apart than sliced.”
I ripped off a piece, crispy on the outside and yielding on the inside. “This is a real treat.” After inhaling the bread’s yeasty fragrance, I added cheese, then bit into the buttery and crunchy textures. “Delicious.”
“That’s just the appetizer.” He laughed.
Is there nothing he can’t do? “You should open a restaurant.”
“Maybe someday.” He held up his hands as if fending off the idea. “But for now, I’d be happy just to get the winery going.”
“Understandable.” I nodded my encouragement. Then leaning toward the roses, I closed my eyes and inhaled their subtle scent. “Pink for Valentine’s Day?”
“Wish I’d thought of that.” A grin ghosted his face. “Actually, pink because we met on Wild Rose Pass.”
****
After lunch, he showed me the vineyard. “The vines are dormant now, so I need to start pruning them this week.”
“They’re so brown and reedy. They look dead.” I gently bent the tip of the nearest vine, and it snapped off in my hand. “Will they come back?”
He nodded. “Grapes only grow on year-old wood, so ninety percent of what you see needs to be lopped off.”
I gazed across the acres of vines and gave a low whistle. “You must have thousands to trim.”
“Which is why I need help.” He gave a dry laugh. “The best time to prune is now, while the vines are inactive. Ideally, a crew of workers would clip them in a week, but with just me pruning, the process takes longer, and if I don’t finish in time, I risk cutting into the vines’ growing season.” He grinned. “Pun intended.”
“You certainly have your work cut out for you.” I recalled the one time I’d harvested grapes. Clipping grapes was backbreaking work. “Can’t you hire a crew?”
“Sure, that is, if I could find experienced trimmers, and if I could afford to pay them.” The gleam in his eyes dimmed.
“If I were staying, I’d offer to help.” I bunched my lips. “But I’m leaving in a few days.”
“Yeah, I know.” He drew a deep breath before gesturing to the furthest edge of the vineyards. “Want to see Dry Gulch Creek?”
At my nod, we followed an intermittent stream’s gravel bed to where three huge cottonwoods towered above us, their branches bare in the wintry sun.
He leaned against the tallest. “According to the National Register of Big Trees, this is the largest Rio Grande cottonwood in the nation at seventy-nine feet tall and twenty-nine feet around its trunk.”
I gave a low whistle as I trailed my fingers over the tree’s deeply furrowed bark. “And I thought Marianna’s cottonwood was big.”
“Imagine the stories if this tree could talk.”
On cue, the wind soughed through the branches as if murmuring a subtle message.
More sensed than heard, a word seemed to waft on the breeze. Stay.
I perked my ears.
Stay.
“Are you up for a walk?”
Deep in concentration, I flinched. “Always.”
“This path loops around the vineyard in a three-mile circle.” He offered his hand as we climbed the steep incline.
I hesitated. Don’t start something you can’t finish. But despite my travel plans, I linked fingers. El Paso’s only three hours away…hardly a long-distance relationship.
