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Donny and I are the only grandchildren old enough to even remember them, and we never met either of them.
“My father is not the issue here,” Dad finally says.
Donny and I are both stunned into silence.
We’ve known it all along. Want to get our dad—or his brothers and sister—to go silent?
Mention Bradford Steel.
No other records exist of him. Nothing. Donny and I did our share of snooping when we were teenagers. The other kids, to my knowledge, never did. Our grandfather is a nonentity to them. Henry, Brad, Dee, and Ava were babies when it all happened, and the others weren’t born yet.
Finally, I clear my throat. “Until he asks for our help, I see no reason to give it.”
“I agree with Dale,” Donny says. “Though I guess I should meet the guy.”
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“It’s curiosity, mostly,” he admits. “I’ll drive home in a few days.”
“Your call,” Dad says. “We just didn’t want to tell you this news in a phone call.”
“To be truthful,” Donny says, “I’m not sure how I feel about it. I should be angry, I guess. But I’m not.”
“I’m angry enough for both of us.” I clench my hands into fists without meaning to.
“It’s in the past, bro,” Donny says.
“A lot of things are in the past.” I grit my teeth.
“Requisite words are ‘in the past,’” Dad says. “I don’t want this having a negative effect on you boys. Anger is okay. But let it pass.”
“Exactly what do you know about it?” I ask. It’s a valid question.
“More than you know,” Dad says. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Chapter Five
Ashley
Jade sent Darla home early as it’s just the two of us for dinner.
“I thought we could go into Snow Creek and try that new Italian place,” Jade says to me.
“There’s a new Italian place?”
She nods. “They opened up over the weekend. Have you been into town yet?”
I shake my head. “When would I have the time?”
She laughs. “Touché. Let’s go. We’ll take a walk before dinner, and I’ll show you around.”
A half hour later, Jade parks her Mercedes on a side street. “Small-town parking is always a challenge. I never learned to parallel park until I moved here.”
I laugh. “I can’t parallel park to save my soul.”
“I once had to do it in Talon’s pickup. It was at least a hundred maneuvers. I swear!”
We laugh together.
I like Jade Steel. I like her a lot. Already, I know we have a lot in common. She came to Steel Acres when she was twenty-five, like me.
And she fell for a Steel heir who seemed unattainable at the time.
Things worked out for her.
Will they work out for me as well?
Who knows? Right now, the object of my affection is in Denver with his father and brother. I have no idea why, and I know better than to ask Jade. She clammed up when I asked why she called Talon a “broken man.”
We walk off the side street onto the main thoroughfare. “This is Main Street. Colloquial, huh?”
“Does every small town have a Main Street?” I ask, laughing.
“Pretty much. There was a petition years back to change to the name to Steel Avenue, but Talon and the others wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Why?”
“It’s not their thing. They’re not in any of this for the glory.”
Interesting. Dale said the same thing about his winemaking. He does it for the joy of the art, not for the glory.
He was raised well by his father, and also by this remarkable woman walking next to me.
She stops at a brick building. From the outside, it looks like a saloon straight out of the nineteenth century, with a green-and-white awning and the name of the establishment painted on a wooden sign.
“This is Murphy’s Bar. The owner is Sean Murphy. Apparently he’s a nephew of a friend of my father-in-law. His uncle, also named Sean Murphy, died here in Snow Creek when he was young, and his namesake came here to pay his respects and never left. Murphy’s is a Snow Creek institution. Sean retired a few years ago, and his son Brendan runs it now. He’s about Dale’s age. They went to school together.” She touches the handle. “Feel like a pre-dinner drink?”
“If you’d like.”
“Sounds good to me. We have no idea if the new restaurant even serves alcohol.” She opens the door.
A bell jingles, and I follow her in.
“Jade Steel!” A man behind the bar greets her. His voice is low but jubilant—a bright orange like the sun welcoming a new day. Very different from Dale’s.
“Hello, Brendan.”
“Who’s that with you?”
“This is Ashley White. She’s interning with Ryan and Dale at the vineyards this fall. Ashley, Brendan Murphy.”
Brendan Murphy is a tall and handsome ginger with vibrant blue eyes. His hair is long like Dale’s but not as full. Still, the flamboyant auburn makes quite a statement, along with his masculine jawline and aquiline nose. No mistaking him for anything but an Irishman.
