as a grateful citizen, as well.
For their friendship, input and the many, many laughs we’ve shared, thanks to Huntley Fitzpatrick, Shaunee Cole, Karen Pinco, Kelly Morse and Jennifer Iszkiewicz. My brother Mike, owner of Litchfield Hills Wine Market, advised on all things grape (any mistakes are all mine). As ever, thanks to my sister Hilary, my dear mom, and my sister-in-law and greatest friend, Jackie Decker.
To my beautiful children and heroic husband—there really are no words to express my love for you, but I expect you know that you three are my whole world.
And you, dear and wonderful readers…thank you. Thank you for spending a few hours of your lives with my books. I can’t tell you what an honor that is.
This book is dedicated to Rose Morris-Boucher,
my very first friend in the world of writing, and
my friend still. Thank you for everything, Rosebud!
Contents
PROLOGUE
On a beautiful day in June, in front of literally half the town, wearing a wedding dress that made her look like Cinderella and holding a bouquet of perfect pink roses, Faith Elizabeth Holland was left at the altar.
We sure didn’t see that one coming.
There we all were, sitting in Trinity Lutheran, smiling, dressed up, not a seat to be had, people standing three deep in the back of the church. The bridesmaids were dressed in pink, and Faith’s niece, just thirteen years old, looked as pretty as could be. The best man wore his dress blues, and Faith’s brother was an usher. It was beautiful!
The wedding day of these two kids—Faith and Jeremy, together since high school—was set to be one of the happiest days our town had seen in years. After all, the Hollands were a founding family here, salt of the earth types. They had more land than anyone in the Finger Lakes wine country, acres and acres of vineyard and forest, all the way down to Keuka—the Crooked Lake, as we call it. The Lyons, well, they were from California, but we liked them, anyway. They were more the money type. Nice folks. Their land abutted the Hollands’, so the kids were next-door neighbors. How sweet was that? And Jeremy, oh, he was a doll! He could’ve gone pro in the NFL. No, really, he was that good. But instead, he moved back as soon as he became a doctor. He wanted to practice right here in town, settle down with that sweet Faith and raise a family.
The kids met so romantically, in a medical sort of way—Faith, then a senior in high school, had an epileptic seizure. Jeremy, who’d just transferred in, elbowed his way to her side, picked her up in his brawny football-hero arms, which, come to think of it, you’re not supposed to do, but his intentions were noble, and what a picture it made, the tall and dark Jeremy carrying Faith through the halls. He brought her to the nurse’s office, where he remained by her side until her dad came to get her. It was, the story went, love at first sight.
They
