Between the Vines (2 page)

“You've done a fine job.” Howard reached up, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a firm pat. “You'll make a damn
worthy red out of these grapes too, young fella. They'll be lining up to get their hands on it.”

Pete twisted his head in time to see Howard wink and tap the side of his nose with his other hand.

“Time to get home to Margaret. It's roast tonight.”

Howard hobbled away along the row. A knee reconstruction many years earlier had left him with a joint that was almost bone on bone but he rarely complained.

Pete shook his head. He should have known better than to think he could keep something secret from their family friend. The old bloke had become a bit of a mentor since Pete's parents had died. He knew how badly Pete wanted to make a wine worthy of his father's original investment. But Howard was married to Margaret, a staunch community worker who attended every event in the district. She heard everything and repeated most of it, adding her own embellishments to the story.

Pete's stomach rumbled. Talk of Margaret's roast made him think of his own dinner. As usual he hadn't organised anything. There was still some of the casserole left. He would have to have that and plan some more meals tomorrow. Somehow he never thought about food until it came time to eat.

A bright blue sporty car zoomed down the road from the direction of the winery leaving a trail of dust in its wake. Felicity, their office manager, was heading home. They paid her the award rate but he wondered at her having such an expensive car. Her family were battlers but Felicity liked nice things. He hoped she hadn't overextended herself. Still, it was none of his business.

The sun went behind a thick bank of cloud. A shiver wriggled down his back. Pete looked up. A figure stood on the verandah outside the cellar door. It was quite a distance but he could tell from the stance it was Ed. Pete lifted his hand to wave but his brother had already turned away and disappeared inside. There was one vehicle out the front, a van. Perhaps they were still busy at the cellar door. Pete had meant to get back to help with the last of the
customers and let Noelene go home early but he'd spent a long time with Howard walking amongst the vines and somehow the day had got away from him.

He should ask Ed to go to the pub with him for a meal tonight. They'd hardly seen each other the last few weeks. That would prevent him having to eat his casserole for a third night and give him a chance to catch up with his older brother. Ed had become elusive of late or was it Pete who'd not bothered to make enough of an effort? He could easily lose himself in the vines or the winery sheds all day. They'd never been close but they'd been strong for each other in the early days after the light plane crash that had claimed their parents.

Gradually as life had gone on they'd each taken up their roles at Wriggly Creek Wines, Pete managing the vines and wine production, Ed the finances, sales and marketing. They complemented each other and rubbed along together.

Pete shrugged his shoulders. The lowering sun combined with a breeze brought a drop in temperature. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a conversation with his brother that didn't involve the business. The coming vintage would make a proper catch-up almost impossible. The pub was a good idea. There were several things he needed to talk over with Ed. Pete strode back between the vines, glad he'd made a decision.

Shrieks of laughter greeted Taylor as she pushed open the cellar door. A bundle of white fluff flapped on the floor. She watched as Anna and Sal took an arm each and hauled Rosie to her feet. They all giggled and talked excitedly as they readjusted the tulle veil that had slipped sideways and fluffed out the tulle skirt they'd attached to a satin bodice for her to wear for this hen's day out. This was their fifth cellar door and the outfit was looking a little worse for wear.

Over their heads Taylor saw the older woman behind the bar roll her eyes at the guy beside her. Taylor couldn't blame her. They must see all sorts working in a cellar door, especially this one that was close to town and stayed open later than some of the other wineries. Her mini-van group would be in their motel rooms by now if it wasn't for the ‘Open' sign out the front causing Cass to scream, “Stop at this one!”

More shrieks and giggles followed as her friends lined up at the bar.

“Starting with the whites, ladies?” the guy asked as the woman began to place glasses on the bar.

“Yes please, gorgeous.” Cass rested one arm on the bar and leaned forward, sending up a chorus of whoops and whistles from the others.

Cass could always pick them and this guy was certainly a bit of a hunk. Taylor took a deep breath and made her way to the display of photos. They were on the wall sandwiched between two narrow floor-to-ceiling windows which looked across a rose garden to the highway. The whole cellar door was cosy, barely bigger than the average lounge room. Stone-cold sober; she distanced herself from her unruly friends. This was definitely the last stop. When Taylor
had agreed to be the designated driver for this Coonawarra trip she hadn't realised how tedious it would become and it was only day one. The heat had added to her discomfort and the aircon in the van was still struggling. Thankfully the weekend weather was forecast to be mid-twenties. They were staying in nearby Penola and she hoped they wouldn't need the van much until it was time to go home.

Taylor studied the three photos hanging amongst framed newspaper clippings about openings and award wins decorating the wall in front of her. The first shot was of a man and a woman, ‘Neil and Pearl Starr' the plaque read, husband and wife she assumed. Below them were head and shoulder pictures of two younger men, Peter and Edward Starr. From their appearance they had to be the older Starrs' sons. Peter had tight sandy-coloured curls with blue eyes like Pearl and although Edward had blue eyes too, he was darker like his father. He looked out from the photo with a charming smile.

“Would you like coffee?”

She spun and looked straight into that same set of intense blue eyes studying her from under a thatch of thick dark hair swept back from his high forehead. Her heart skipped a beat as his lips turned up in a grin. It was the hunk from behind the bar. Edward with the dreamy eyes from the photo. He was the only guy in the room but he had a presence that would have outshone any others.

“I'm guessing you're the desi,” he said. “We've got a coffee machine out the back makes a pretty good brew or you might prefer water.”

His gaze locked with hers and his smile deepened. Taylor blinked to break the spell he'd cast over her.

“Water would be fine,” she stammered. “Thank you.”

He moved to the jug and glasses set out on the bar, even though she could have got them herself.

Cass proposed a ribald toast which brought forth more shrieking from the group as he placed the glass of water in front of her.

“Edward Starr,” he said. “Had a busy day?”

“Fairly.” She took a sip from the glass. “Thanks.” She realised he was watching her expectantly. “I'm Taylor Rourke.” She offered her hand across the bar. He took it carefully in his and gave it a squeeze. Her heart hammered in her chest at his touch. What was going on here? She dropped her hand to her side.

He leaned closer as the voices behind them rose again. “Where are you from?”

“Adelaide.” Taylor waved a hand to include her friends. “We're all from Adelaide.”

“Staying the night?”

“Two. We drove down today, go home Sunday.”

“How come you drew the short straw?”

She stared at him, mesmerised by the depth of blue in his eyes. It was like looking into a deep pond.

“How did you get to be the designated driver?”

There was a grin on his face. Had he noticed she was ogling him?

“I'm the one with the van and I prefer beer.” Taylor grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Don't be.” He winked, tapped a finger to his lips and leaned further over the bar. “It takes a lot of beer to make good wine.”

Taylor puzzled over his words, but didn't want to appear silly by asking what he meant. Instead, she reached for the water. A waft of his luscious male scent made her hand tremble. She knocked the glass over. “Damn!” She wasn't usually clumsy. It only ever happened when she first fancied a guy. She gritted her teeth. She wasn't going there, not on this weekend.

“Don't worry.” He had a cloth in his hand immediately. “It's only water and not my best wine you're tipping out.”

“Sorry.” She moved a wine list out of the way as he mopped. Wriggly Creek Wines was written across the top.

“Do you have a creek?” She was trying desperately to have a sensible conversation.

“More like an indentation. You may have noticed Coonawarra is flat as far as the eye can see but the ditch across the bottom of our land is called Wriggly Creek. I'd have preferred Starr Wines.” Edward gave a wry smile. “That's what the old man wanted to call the winery. Mum wouldn't let him. She thought Wriggly Creek was a better description of the property.”

His gaze drifted to the noisy group at his bar then flicked back to Taylor. His intense blue eyes focused on her.

She turned away and took in the cellar door: the creamy sandbagged walls, the polished-wood bar top and the pressed tin that covered the lower walls and sides of the bar. A keg filled one corner, topped with leaflets advertising the wine region. “Nice place you've got here.”

“Mum had a flair for it.” He gave the wooden top one more polish with his cloth. “We haven't changed much.”

Taylor wondered at his use of past tense.

“Why don't you try some?” He put a wine glass where the water glass had stood. “We have a very good chardonnay. Unless you'd rather a red?”

“I'm driving.” Once more Taylor looked away from his mesmerising eyes.

“I'm only giving you a taste. Our chardonnay has done well for us.” He poured a splash into the glass. “You can't visit Wriggly Creek Wines and not at least have a sip. It's won two gold medals.”

Taylor glanced at her friends. They were getting noisier except for Mandy who was looking a little pale.

“One sip,” she said. “Then I'd better get this crew moving. We left Adelaide this morning and it's been a long time since we stopped for lunch at Keith. We haven't checked in yet.”

She reached for the glass and bumped the stem. She snatched at it just as he did. His hand was warm and steady over hers, sending a tingle up her arm.

“Just sip it.” He removed his hand.

She lifted it to her lips. The tang of liquid was crisp on her tongue
then flowed smoothly down her throat.

He watched her closely.

“Very nice.” She put the glass carefully back on the counter.

“Only very nice.” He raised an eyebrow. “You'd better take another sip.”

“Time to go I think, Tales.” Cass tapped her on the shoulder. “Mandy might need a bit of a lie down.”

Taylor glanced over at the friend she was supposed to share a room with. Mandy leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, a sheen of perspiration coating her white forehead.

“Back in the van everyone,” Cass called.

Taylor glanced at Edward. “Sorry to rush off.”

He placed a hand on her arm and fixed those deep-blue eyes on her again. “Come to the pub for a drink tonight.” Her heart gave an extra thump. Damn, this couldn't be happening. Not here. Why couldn't she find a guy like Edward Starr closer to home?

Before she could answer he dropped his arm, bounded around the counter and wove through the group of cackling women to hold open the door. “Ladies.” He gave a short bow and waved his arm towards the car park.

“Bye.” Cass put an arm around Mandy as she passed. “Thanks for having us, handsome.”

The rest of the women traipsed out after her, giggling and batting their eyelashes at Edward. Taylor couldn't meet his eyes as she brought up the rear.

“Don't forget.” He leaned in as she passed through the door. “Pub at eight o'clock. You can walk there. It's just down the road from where you're staying.”

“How do you know which–”

“Only one motel in town. I'll be there by eight. I reckon half of this lot will be asleep by then or wishing they were. I'll shout you a beer.” Once more his face lit with a charming smile.

“I'll see how I go, can't really leave the girls.”

“You can bring anyone still standing,” he called.

Taylor dug the keys out of her hip pocket and unlocked the sliding door of the van. She didn't acknowledge him. She was not going to the pub to drink with a guy she'd only met for five minutes. She hadn't driven all this way to look for a man. It was a girls-only weekend.

A harsh heaving sound came from behind her van. Cass stuck her head around and grimaced at her.

“Mandy's not too good.”

Taylor walked to the end of the van just as Mandy heaved again. Something wet landed on Taylor's bare toes. She looked down. Some of the vomit had splattered her feet and leather sandals.

“Great,” she groaned.

Rosie peeped around the other side of the van, one hand clasped over her mouth and nose. “Do you need help?”

“We'll manage,” Taylor said.

“Thanks.” Cass gave Taylor an apologetic look. “I'll just clean her up and we can get going.”

Taylor slipped her feet from her sandals. They were her favourites. She used the remains of her water bottle to rinse them and her toes. Thankfully they were close to Penola now. She'd drive the rest of the way barefoot. Being the desi was proving to be a tough job when it was her friends she had to be sensible for. Quite boring in fact. She was looking forward to reaching the motel.

Taylor opened the motel room door. Cass was there, peering past her into the dim room.