“Ninety dollars.”
“For the box?” Peter took another sip of wine.
“No, per bottle.”
Taylor’s eyes widened as he almost choked and spat his precious wine into the sink.
“Well, a bit less.” She’d obviously not charged enough. She’d thought Lister crazy to spend that much. Who paid all that money for wine? “I took ten dollars off because he bought what was left of the box,” she added.
Peter’s lips twitched in a smile. “How did you come at that price?”
“I was put on the spot. Your other cabernet was thirty dollars. I thought I’d double it and then that Lister guy annoyed me, so I trebled it.” Taylor lifted her chin. “He was happy to pay.”
Peter started to laugh then he grabbed her and gave her a hug. “Well done, Taylor.”
Her cheeks suddenly felt warm. She’d thought him kind of pudgy when she first met him but now that she’d seen him without a shirt she knew his chest was tanned and chiselled. That same chest was now pressed against hers.
She put a hand to her cheek as he let her go. “I thought you meant I’d got it totally wrong.”
“We were selling it for fifty last year.”
“Oh, so I did charge too much.”
“It’s aged well. Did he complain?”
“No.”
“Because he knew how good it was.” Peter chuckled even louder, rounded the counter and let himself out the door. Taylor watched him go, enjoying the deep sound of his laugh along with a warm feeling inside that she was the cause of it. She picked up the glasses from the bar and put them in the sink. He brought in the ‘Open’ sign and locked the front doors.
“Leave the glasses,” he said. “I’ll wash them and do the stocktake tomorrow. It’s Friday night and I do believe I owe you dinner.”
“You don’t have to, Peter.”
“Call me Pete, please, all my friends do. Peter sounds so formal.”
“Well your offer is very kind, Pete, but I don’t need you to buy me dinner.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He offered the crook of his arm. “Taylor Rourke, you are one hell of a businesswoman.”
She took his arm, unable to resist the deep tenor of his voice and the look of delight in his clear blue eyes.
“Why thank you, kind sir. I’d be delighted.”
CHAPTER
14
The front bar of the pub was noisy but the dining room less so. Pete guided Taylor that way with their drinks.
“What do you feel like eating?” He handed her a menu. “Their meals are all good but I can recommend their pies. My favourite is the beef and Guinness but the chicken’s good too.”
“You’ve sold me on the beef and Guinness and I’m happy to pay for my meal.” Taylor held her glass up. “You’ve already bought me a beer.”
“I insist. A meal is cheap wages for what you’ve helped me with over the last two days.”
Taylor’s smile stretched wider and her eyes sparkled. “Okay. I won’t argue. Thank you.”
“Have a seat.” Pete pulled out a chair at the nearest table. “I’ll place the order.”
He almost tripped on a chair leg in his hurry to get away from that mesmerising look. No wonder Ed was taken with her. Something Pete had to remind himself of. There was no point in losing his heart to Taylor. She was Ed’s girl.
He chose a bottle of wine to go with the pies. By the time he got back to the table he had his wayward emotions under control.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask what kind of wine you like.” He put the bottle and two glasses on the table. “Or even if you like wine at all.”
“I feel it’s wasted on me. I’m a beer drinker.”
“It takes a lot of beer to make a good wine.”
Taylor put her head to one side and studied him across the table. “Ed said something like that. I don’t get it.”
“Winemakers work long hours without a break during vintage.” Pete lifted his beer glass and took another mouthful.
A frown creased Taylor’s brow.
“There’s no better way to unwind after a fourteen-hour day in the cellar than with an icy-cold beer.” Pete grinned. “We usually go through quite a few along the way. So it takes–”
“A lot of beer to make a good wine.” Taylor finished the sentence and laughed. “Now I get it.”
Pete finished his beer and poured two glasses of the red he’d bought.
“This is a cab sauv, grown by another local. A mate of mine. You’ll find it a bit different to the one we drank this afternoon.” Pete tilted his glass towards his nose. He could smell the clove and blackcurrant. He took a sip, rolled it round his tongue and swallowed. “It’s younger so the tannins are tight, but you get that earthy, blackcurrant flavour coming through on the palate.”
Taylor picked up her glass and took a sip. She smiled but he could see her lips pursed at the taste.
“Sometimes it takes a while to grow on you.”
“I’m gathering Coonawarra has something special going for it when it comes to red wine.”
“You might say that. It’s the most renowned strip of terroir in Australia if not the world.”
“What’s…how did you say it? Tear wah?”
“Terroir. It’s a French word. It’s how you describe all the climatic factors that influence a wine growing region. Like the soil, the wind, the rain and the sun. They all play a crucial part in growing grapes.”
“So what’s so special about Coonawarra terroir?”
“We have the terra rossa; a dark red, iron-rich soil that sits on top of a deep ridge of limestone, coupled with a good water supply, cool nights and a long mild growing season. Put all those together with talented winemakers.”
“Which is where you come in.”
“Of course.” He grinned and she gave a deep warm chuckle. “So all together, this region makes some of the best cabernet sauvignon and shiraz in the country, recognised around the world.”
“Hmmm.” Taylor took another sip of her wine. Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly.
“Would you prefer another beer?” He started to rise.
She reached across and put a hand on his arm. “No, really this is fine. I’m not much of a red wine drinker.”
Pete rose to his feet this time. “I’ll get you a beer.” He set off before she could protest. He could easily forget not everyone appreciated wine like he did.
By the time he came back with her beer the pies had arrived.
“Thanks, Pete.”
Once more her warm smile sent a jolt of energy through him, stirring emotions he didn’t want to acknowledge.
“My pleasure.” He sat down and tucked into the pie, trying his best to avoid her captivating gaze for a few minutes. Pete had enjoyed working with her. Once she’d overcome her initial reticence, she’d learned the job quickly and shown a quirky sense of humour. She was good fun but out of bounds.
“Have you always been a winemaker?”
Taylor’s question forced him to look up. She glanced at him and took another bite of her food.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I guess it came from being immersed in it from birth. As soon as I was old enough I always had some brew or other fermenting in the laundry.”
“Your mum didn’t mind?”
“I think she was used to it. Dad lived and breathed winemaking.” Pete felt a deep pang of loss. The suddenness of it surprised him. He clutched the wine glass and took a steadying mouthful.
“I’m sorry.” Taylor looked crestfallen. “I’ve just remembered Ed said your parents were killed in an accident.”
“No need to be sorry. It was years ago.” Pete took another sip of red. “Life goes on.”
“You still miss them though.”
“Very much.” It was out before Pete even thought about it.
“I didn’t mean to stir up the past.” Her look was full of compassion.
“You didn’t. I’m thankful.” Pete smiled and meant
it. “I’m lucky to have so many good memories. Lots of people don’t.” He didn’t talk about his parents’ loss to anyone anymore. Not even Ed. For everyone else life had gone on. It had taken Pete a while longer to come to terms with that. And he had for the most part. He was happy enough and doing what he loved. Just every so often he missed the conversations with his dad about wine and his mother’s ready laugh. His parents had done everything together and for their family. Howard filled the breach a little when it came to winemaking and Noelene made him laugh from time to time like his mother had. He was also grateful for that.
“Do you think Ed will be back soon?”
Taylor’s question brought him back to the present.
“Any time now. I was half expecting him today. I’m sorry he hasn’t let you know.”
For the first time since the day she arrived Taylor looked a little anxious.
“It’s not his fault,” she said. “He doesn’t even know I’m here.”
“You didn’t get him on the phone?”
She shook her head.
Pete found himself wanting to reassure her. “Ed can be a bit focused on the job at hand. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”
Taylor’s face lit up. She drank her beer and Pete finished his glass of wine.
“If you’re ready I should get you home.”
“Sure. Thanks for this.” She stood. “And for your suggestion of the pie. It was delicious.”
“No problem.” Pete followed her to the door.
She was right to remind him. This was just a thank-you dinner to repay her for her effort on their behalf. She’d only stayed on and helped out because of Ed anyway. Once more Pete had to remind himself she was his brother’s girl.
CHAPTER
15
Edward pulled into his garage and let his arms drop from the steering wheel. He rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. Most of the trip away had been a complete waste of time. To top it off Mr Zhu, who he’d pinned his hopes of a partnership on, had been a no-show. Edward had only had dealings with Mr Cheng, his Australian contact. He’d desperately tried Cheng’s number but he didn’t answer. The message bank was generic. Edward had left two messages but no-one replied. Something had gone wrong but he was at a loss to do anything more but come home.
The seat was comfortable. Edward could easily fall asleep. He dragged himself out of his car and through the internal door. He’d just have time to catch a few hours’ rest in his own bed and then he’d have to do some more thinking. Not that he could imagine coming up with anything new. He’d gone over every possibility on the drive back from Melbourne. There was no way to raise the extra capital to buy the land unless he took on a partner. He could scrape by if he sold the NS18 straight from the vine but Peter wasn’t having a bar of that.
He fell into bed, rolled from one side to the other and then onto his back. His mind refused to rest. The strong coffee he’d bought in Casterton for the last leg of his journey still coursed through his veins. Finally he took himself to the kitchen. He made more coffee and drank it black. The milk was off and the bread was mouldy. The sun slanted through his kitchen window. Time to catch up on what had happened in his absence. Peter would be up by now and maybe he’d have something to eat at his place.
Edward picked up the jeans he’d worn yesterday from the floor where he’d only discarded them a few hours before. He threw on a work polo shirt, collected his boots and went outside. The air was fresh but not cold around him as he tugged on his boots. There was not a cloud in the sky, which was still the deep azure blue of early morning. He took in a long slow breath. In the distance he could just make out the roof of Peter’s cottage and between them row after row of damned grapes. Right now he felt the business of making a living from them overwhelmed him. Edward stepped off the verandah and past the full pink blooms of his mother’s Pierre de Ronsard roses. He’d walk. Perhaps it would help to clear his head.
The gentle sound of a woman’s laugh pulled him up as he approached the cottage from the side. That was something new: Peter bringing a woman home. He’d lived a celibate life for years as far as Edward knew.
Peter spoke. Edward couldn’t make out the words but the tone was matter-of-fact. He stepped around the corner then stopped short. Peter was sitting on the front verandah of his little cottage and opposite him sat a woman leaning in, smiling, listening to whatever he was saying. A woman Edward recognised.
“Taylor,” he said.
She looked up, startled.
Peter jumped up from his chair bumping the small table. “You’re back.”
Taylor grabbed her coffee cup to save the contents from spilling.
“Surprise.” Edward spoke in a monotone looking from his brother to Taylor. What had he interrupted here?
Taylor smiled back at him. The glint of her eyes and that shy smile of hers melting the anger that he’d felt at seeing his brother with his…girlfriend. Could he call her that?
“Hi, Ed.” She clutched the mug in her hand tightly.
“Taylor’s been here for a few days helping out.” Peter started picking up plates. “She’s staying in the quarters.”
Edward ignored his brother and kept his gaze on Taylor.
“Well.” Peter put the plates back on the table. “We’ve got a bit to talk about but I’ll leave you two to catch up first. I’ve got some cleaning up to do at the cellar door.”
“Oh.” Taylor stood up. “I should help.”
“No. You stay here. It won’t take me long.” He looked back at Edward. “I’ll meet you in the office in a while?”
Edward nodded.
Peter turned back to Taylor. “Thanks for the company.”
“Thanks for breakfast,” she replied.
They watched him stride away.
Edward broke the silence. “You came back.”
“You asked me to.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you would.”
Her chin dropped a little. “So you didn’t want me to?”
“You didn’t answer my texts, I thought–”
Taylor moved to the end of the verandah. Edward was still on the ground. It meant their faces were level. “I lost my phone for a while. It’s a long story.”
Her fresh, sweet scent wafted around him. He stepped up. He wanted to take her in his arms but he still felt weird about finding her in conversation with his brother. They’d been relaxed, their heads close. His stomach rumbled.
“You’ll have to tell me over breakfast.” He looked past her to the table. “I was hoping Peter would have something I could eat.”
“I don’t know. I came over to get some milk and stayed here for toast and coffee.” She smiled. “I have eggs at the quarters. I could cook you some.”
“Sure.”
She picked up the carton of long-life milk that had been beside her chair and stepped around him heading past Peter’s cottage.
He followed. Her blonde hair fluffed out and over her shoulders. She wore a light cotton shirt, almost see-through, that was tucked in at her trim waist. He liked the way her jeans hugged her bum as she walked. She was a good-looking woman and she’d come back for him. He had to hope that meant something more than kissing.
Taylor was on edge. Ed sat in the chair watching her as she set about making scrambled eggs. All the doubts she’d had about coming returned. He’d been surprised to see her but there was more to it than that. She’d seen the annoyed look on his face that he’d quickly changed to a smooth smile. Then she’d thought he was going to kiss her on the verandah but instead he wanted food.
“How was Melbourne?”
“How was the wedding?”
They both spoke at once.
He grinned. Her heart gave an extra thump. She’d seen that look before.
“You first,” he said.
“The wedding went very well. They had a Valentine’s theme so lots of hearts and flowers everywhere. Rosie looked divine and Matt very handsome in his suit. The food w
as scrumptious, the drinks flowed and we danced the night away. It was wonderful.” Taylor tipped the egg mixture in the pan and watched the tiny bubbles form around the edges. It had been a special day. She’d really enjoyed it. Ed was silent behind her. Had she been too gushy with her description? She looked back. He was staring at her with his dark-blue eyes, his expression unreadable.
“I sent you a text for Valentine’s Day,” he said.
“I didn’t get it.”
“It was a few days before.”
“That was sweet.” Damn losing her phone. She put a coffee in front of him.
“So you came back for a visit and brought your coffee machine?”
“Never travel without it.”
“Peter should have put you up in my place. I’ve got a good one.”
What had Pete said about his name? His friends call him Pete. Funny his brother didn’t. “He offered but…well, I didn’t like to without you being there. These quarters are very comfortable.” He opened his mouth but she cut him off. “I’m happy here. That’s if it’s okay for me to stay a bit longer?” She didn’t want him to think he had to offer his place but once she got to know him better – well she’d see.
“No probs. I’m not sure when Antoine gets here.”
“Is he the extra cellar hand?”
“Yes. He’s done the last three vintages with us. He’d have been here by now but he had a wedding so he went home for a while.”
“Where does he live?”
“France. At least he did. He’s been working in Australia on and off for a few years. Not sure what his long-term plans are.”
Taylor put a plate of toast and scrambled eggs in front of him. She’d reserved a spoonful of egg for herself. She wasn’t really hungry after the breakfast she’d had with Pete but she didn’t want to sit and watch Ed eat.
“Thanks,” Ed said after his first mouthful. “I drove most of the night. I was starving.”
“So how did it go in Melbourne?”
Ed paused, another forkful of egg part-way to his mouth. “Not so good.”
“Did Mr Cheng contact you?”
Between the Vines Page 9