his face. “Did you have a nice nap?”
The boy shrugged.
“Would you like to make some cookies?” Griffin’s mother asked. “I have ingredients for chocolate chip or peanut butter. Which do you like best?”
Joey stared at her for a moment then popped his thumb out of his mouth. “Peanut butter.”
Jana let out what sounded to Griffin like a relieved sigh. She’d probably wondered if the boy would even answer her. “Peanut butter it is.”
Joey stepped into the kitchen, the corner of his tattered blanket trailing across the travertine tiles. “Are you going to make cookies?” he asked Griffin.
“Um...” Griffin glanced at his mother then back to Joey. “I’d love to, but I need to do a walk-through of the vines before I meet with Marcus...” He paused, then clarified, “He’s the man who runs the vineyard right now and I’m going to help with his job now that we’re here to stay.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm on the way to the pantry.
“I want to come with you,” the boy mumbled.
Jana stilled.
“Are you sure?” Griffin scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m just walking through fields, checking on rows of grapevines. Your... My... Ms. Jana here is offering an amazing afternoon filled with sugar and chocolate chips and—”
“I like it outside,” Joey said simply.
Griffin glanced at his mother, who smiled and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “All those years when you’d try to follow your dad around while he worked. Who would have ever thought you’d be in his shoes?”
She meant the words as a compliment. A fond reminiscence of her late husband. Because of that, Griffin didn’t correct her. But he wanted to. He wanted to shout and rail that he was nothing like his dad. If Joey wanted to shadow him in the fields, he’d let him and the afternoon wouldn’t be filled with lectures and admonishments.
“Do you have boots?”
“Nope,” came the boy’s answer.
“Your gym shoes will suffice for now, but you’ll need something sturdier as the weather gets colder.”
“What’s sur-fice?” the boy asked, his little brows furrowing.
“They’ll be okay until we get you new shoes,” Griffin clarified.
“Can the new ones have basketballs on them?”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“Does that mean yes or no?”
Jana laughed then covered it with a cough. Griffin shot her a glare then returned his attention to Joey.
“It means I’ll try,” he told the boy.
Joey cocked his head, like a puppy studying his owner after being told to sit for the first time. The seconds ticked by, but Griffin didn’t dare move. Somehow this moment felt like a test, and he’d never been great at tests.
“Okay,” his new ward answered finally, and the tightness in Griffin’s chest eased slightly.
Maybe trying really would be good enough.
“I’ll have cookies waiting when you get back,” his mom promised.
“Thanks,” he told her and hoped she realized it was for so much more than just the promise of cookies.
His first instinct was to take Joey’s hand, but he worried that would cause the boy to shut down. So he inclined his head toward the door. “Follow me and pay attention. Today is your first lesson as an apprentice vintner.”
Joey fell into step a pace behind him. “What’s a vintner?”
“Someone who makes wine.”
“What’s wine?”
Griffin shook his head as he led the way out the front door and started toward the hill that would take them down to the estate field, Inception, the first his father had planted. “It’s grape juice for adults.”
“I like chocolate milk,” Joey reported.
“Of course you do.” The boy had no idea what he was talking about, but he was talking. The mere fact made Griffin smile for the first time in weeks.
With a little luck, he’d get his life back on track sooner than later.
Maggie glanced around the illuminated town square later that night. Just as Jacob promised, everything looked perfect. She was relieved and grateful that so many residents had attended the lighting of the town Christmas tree and were now taking part in the Winter Wonderland festival. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which event was happening on what night. Stonecreek’s community calendar was as jam-packed as a socialite’s in the middle of the Season.
But they were a small town without any big industry or corporation to anchor them. Tourism was a huge deal, all year round. The popularity of Harvest Vineyard helped with that, especially during the fall. That fact didn’t make her breakup with Griffin any easier, just as it had complicated calling off the wedding to Trevor in the spring. Somehow she and their mother had managed to keep a friendly working relationship. Jana Stone had even become something of a mentor to Maggie, although they hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since Griffin left for Seattle.
She hoped that could change now that he’d returned, whether or not he chose to stay. Maggie liked having an experienced woman to talk to and bounce ideas off since she was trying to pull back from discussing town business with her grandmother.
Grammy meant well but it was often difficult for her to remember that she’d retired from the position of mayor, and although Maggie loved her, she wouldn’t be a puppet to her grandmother’s whims regarding how the town should be run.
“Everything looks beautiful.”
Maggie whirled around to find her grandmother standing directly behind her, Christian Milken, the CEO of LiveSoft, at her side.
Grammy frowned. “Mary Margaret, are you blushing?”
Maggie pressed a hand to her cheek and smiled at them both. “No, of course not. I think it’s the cold.”
“It’s still nearly fifty degrees,” her grandmother pointed out. “Unseasonably warm for December.”
“I’m wearing a coat,” Maggie said, even though the light jacket she’d worn over her red fit-and-flare dress offered little warmth, as it was more for fashion than function. She shrugged out of it anyway.
“That’s a lovely dress,” Christian said.
“Thanks.”
