Page 82 of Taken Away

Blackwood Estate Winery

Mabel’s Office—10:15 AM

Aubrey stood beside the towering wall of glass overlooking the vineyard.

Morning sunlight spilled across the endless rows of vines, turning the leaves a vibrant summer green. Beyond them, the Blue Ridge Mountains stretched across the horizon in layers of blue and silver, rising and fading into one another like distant ocean waves.

Somewhere between the funeral, the winery meetings, and the endless cups of coffee, the mountains had started getting under her skin.

The view no longer felt foreign.

It felt familiar.

“Gets to you, doesn’t it?”

Bennett’s voice came from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder and found him in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame.

A smile tugged at her mouth.

“Yeah, it does.”

She turned back toward the glass.

“The best part?” she said.

Bennett stepped into the office.

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t even have road rage during my morning commute.”

He smiled, the corner of his mouth kicking up.

“Commute?”

She pointed toward the Victorian house visible beyond the vines.

“Three minutes. No traffic. No horns. No angry people trying to merge into my lane.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It was awful. I almost missed Philadelphia.”

Bennett snorted.

“Almost?”

“Let’s not get carried away.”

His low laugh rolled through the office, warm and inconvenient.

She moved back toward the desk. Three spreadsheets were open on her laptop, a leather-bound Tree of Life Reserve binder beside her coffee mug.

“You’re late, McCrae.”

“I am?”