ChapterFifteen
Delaney relaxed against the seat as Ethan drove the truck down Route 45 and turned off on a dirt road with the sign Hermitage Vines. The dirt kicked up behind the truck, sending a cloud billowing behind them. Ethan glanced in his rearview mirror but kept driving. The sky was darkening and the wind picking up, making it seem more like evening than afternoon. Delaney glanced at her watch. The rain would tamp down the dust. The vines needed rain, but they didn’t need wind lashing them, especially now, when they were heavy with ripening grapes. He looked down the rows as he drove by, but no one was working in the fields. He pulled up to the parking lot and parked in front of the barn that doubled as a showroom and wine tasting event location.
Delaney got out and slammed the truck door. “Ethan, this place is wonderful! Is that your house?”
He looked up at the big white farmhouse and nodded. “It came with the place. It was built in the early nineteen hundreds. You can head up there and get settled. I won’t be long.”
Before he had even finished, she was shaking her head. “You invited me to see your place. I won’t sit at the house and wait patiently for you. I could have done that in Galveston. I want the grand tour.”
“It’s not so grand, but follow me.” He led the way into the barn, sliding open the big door in the front. “I kept this door to really open up the place for natural light. It’s great when we do tastings and there are many people in and out.”
She walked into the barn and looked up. “It’s fantastic! Is that where you make the wine?” She gestured to the large steel vaults in the back, blocked by wood railings.
He nodded. “Customers like to feel a part of the process, so we make some of our wine in here. I have a couple of other barns that have equipment as well.”
She walked over to a small bar built into the side of the space. “This is a great space. Do you offer events like weddings, parties, formal tastings?”
He shook his head. “I’m still getting started here. Someday I’d like to add that, but I have no time right now. I have enough to do with making the wine and getting sales going.”
“You don’t have a sales staff?” She cocked her head at him.
“We’re a two-person operation, basically. Me and my farm manager, Tom. Although we hire seasonal help as needed.” As if conjured by his words, Tom came out from the back room, slapping gloves on his jeans.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away. We’ve got everything under control, Ethan,” the older man said, his smile showing he wasn’t offended Ethan had checked in.
Ethan clapped him on the back. “We were in Galveston and I wanted to show Delaney the place. Tom, meet Delaney Winters.”
“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Winters.” Tom held out his hand, then pulled it back. “Sorry, my hands are dirty.”
“Nonsense. Call me Delaney.” She shook his hand and didn’t even wipe them off after.
Tom grinned, then turned to Ethan. “The vines are all set. We spent the last few days checking the ties. I brought in a couple of extra guys for the week, while everyone else worked on harvesting what they could. Didn’t think you’d mind. They’re moving the barrels now, making sure everything is up in case we get flooding.”
“Aren’t you well inland for flooding?” Delaney asked.
“We’re only a couple of miles in and there are rivers throughout the land for irrigation from the bay, so we should be safe, but I’m more worried about water ponding and leaking. We have an inlet running through the property, but everything should be high enough to be safe. How’s the generator?”
“Fueled up and ready. Tested it myself this morning. So, you see? We have everything under control.”
“I knew it. Thanks.”
“But you worried anyway.” Tom’s smile was indulgent, not at all offended. “I’m headed back to the barns to check on the barrels. Nice to meet you, Ms. Winters.” He nodded and wandered off.
“Delaney. It was my pleasure.” She walked around the open space. “This is a great space. I know plenty of people who would pay outrageous sums to have events in a place like this. You should really consider it. Do you at least do formal tastings and weekly events to bring in customers?”
“Absolutely. We’re open every weekend from one to four for sales, but I just can’t do both. I sometimes hire people in the fall to work in the tasting room. We work it out.”
She shook her head. “Ethan, it’s not enough to make the wine. You need to sell it. You should really hire someone full-time, someone who knows how to put events together, to run this side of your operation.”
“I know. I have to get around to it. You don’t know anyone like that? Who wouldn’t mind living way out here on a farm?” He spoke with hope she could be that person.
“I’m sure you could advertise in wine magazines or online. Your business could really take off.”
He grimaced. “I know you’re right. I’m going to need someone for that angle. Tom is better with the plants and the wine. But if I move back to Houston, I can’t pick up the slack in the tasting room. At best, I’d be out here on weekends only, not enough to really build that side.”
“You’re returning to Houston?”
He pasted a smile on and gestured to the door, deliberately ignoring her question. “Want to see the rest of the place before the storm hits?”