A Taste of Sauvignon by Heather Heyford Read Free Book Online Page B

Potatoes left in the field for a few days of dry weather helped the skins to mature, enabling them to be stored longer. Esteban didn’t bother to argue that they’d be curing them in the field anyway, even if the soil was ideal.
    Esteban already knew what Padre’s decision would be with regard to the increased offer, so why didn’t he just come out with it? They were on the same page when it came to the farm. But Padre was the patriarch. It fell to him to lead, and Esteban to follow. Still, he needed some kind of answer for Sauvignon by the end of the day.
    When his cell rang toward the end of the drizzly afternoon, he knew who it was without looking.
    â€œDo you have any news for me?” she asked briskly.
    She had worked him last night at Bodega. Totally sucked him in with her polite interest in his abalone and her lily of the valley perfume. Then, just when he let his defenses down, she’d T-boned him with the second offer.
    Esteban was sowing the spring’s first spinach crop, a task he would repeat every ten days during the growing season.
    â€œNot yet,” he said, swiping his sleeve across his forehead. “If I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
    â€œI’m coming over.”
    â€œSuit yourself.” She could camp out in the damn pumpkin patch until Halloween if she thought it would convince Padre to sell, but she’d be wasting her time.
    As he slipped his phone back into his jeans, he noticed Padre making his way over to him. Must’ve heard him talking on the phone.
    â€œTwo million dollars,” his father said.
    â€œ What?”
    â€œYou heard me.”
    â€œThat’s half a million more than it’s worth!”
    Padre straightened up to his full five feet ten inches against his towering son. “Land is worth different things to different people.” He held up two fingers. “If they want it, it’s two million. Tell them they can take it or leave it.” With that, he turned and strode back to his peas.
    For the first time, Esteban noticed the slight stoop in his father’s spine as he walked away. Padre wouldn’t be around forever. A strange surge of protectiveness welled up in him. He raised his voice as high as he dared at Padre’s back. “Why are you doing this? You don’t want to leave here. Neither does Madre.”
    But apparently, Padre had already uttered that day’s quota of words.
    Not long afterward, Esteban heard Savvy’s car. He tramped out of the sticky soil toward the lane, in the opposite direction from where Padre had gone.
    Last night at Bodega he’d traded his work pants for his good jeans. Today he was back to dressing like the truck farmer that he was. But since there was nothing he could do about looking like a ditch-digger, he distracted himself by wondering what she would be wearing today. He’d only ever seen her in drab black. He reached up to pick a pearly pink blossom as he passed by the magnolia tree and twirled it between his fingers and thumb. What would she look like in pink?
    He tossed the flower away before he reached the car, letting her open her own door so he didn’t defile it with his grimy hand. When she stood before him, all haughty and expectant, he skimmed her over, head to toe.
    â€œBlack again. I knew it.”
    Her mouth tightened into a line and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Hmph,” she snorted. “You forgot to mention that in addition to your day job growing beans, you moonlight as a personal shopper.”
    He couldn’t help grinning. “Good one.” To his pleasure, her eyes sparkled back at his and she bit back a grin of her own. But not for long.
    â€œSo. What’s the word?”
    He threw up his soiled hands. “I’d invite you into the house to talk, but there’s not much sense in it.”
    She lifted her brow impatiently.
    â€œOur land’s not for sale, at any price. Tell your investors