“Wait! Bradley—where are you going?” Trey yelled.
“Go with Naughton!” Alex shouted. “He’s taking Mad’s truck.”
Naughton was already on the phone when she opened the door and climbed in. All Bradley could glean was that the fire was in the vineyards.
“We’re on our way.” Naughton disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the center console.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“The northwest vineyards are burning, and the front is moving south, which puts structures in danger.”
“What can I do?”
“Call Alex and see if she and Mad have heard anything else.”
Bradley nodded.
Alex’s phone went to voicemail, but she called back moments later.
“Call your aunt and ask her to call the Far Out wineries. She’ll know what to do.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Hang on.” Bradley could hear Maddox speaking but couldn’t decipher his words. “Mad says that’s it for now.”
Aunt Jean answered before Bradley heard the phone ring. She told Bradley she’d already called most of the wineries in what was known as the “Far Out” region in the collaborative, which was the area north of the fire. She also told Bradley that Uncle Charlie and all of Jenson’s employees were already on their way to Butler Ranch.
“Mad and I will probably get up in the air right away,” Naughton told her when she hung up.
“The air?”
“We’re USFS carded.”
Bradley had no idea what Naughton was talking about, but it didn’t matter. A fire in the vineyard was the worst thing she could imagine.
Depending on the heat levels and how quickly the fire moved through, the vines could survive, if the cambium layer just beneath the bark survived. If the cambium layer burned, there’d be no way to save the vine. The financial losses could be staggering.
Naughton’s jaw was strained, and the muscles in his arm were corded. As if it had a will of its own, Bradley’s arm reached over, and her hand rested on his forearm.
“I don’t know what to say…”
Naughton rested a hand on hers. “I’m glad you’re with us, Bradley.”
He said it so quietly, Bradley wasn’t sure she heard him right. When she tried to move her hand, he grasped it tighter. They rode the rest of the way to Butler Ranch in silence.
They were still at least twenty miles from the ranch when the smell of smoke assaulted his senses. It grew more pungent the closer they got, until the overwhelming stench made him sick to his stomach.
The only thing keeping his panic at bay was Bradley’s hand beneath his. Her warmth spread from his hand and arm through the rest of his body, her presence inexplicably calming him.
An orange glow lit the sky, visible from miles away, which meant the fire was spreading rapidly. It wasn’t just Butler Ranch that was in immediate danger, Los Caballeros and Dunning Estate Wines were too. If it crossed the road, Jenson Vineyards would be threatened, along with several other wineries.
Most of the central coast of California had experienced severe drought conditions for the last decade. If this fire spread, the majority of Westside Winery Collaborative would be in the fire’s path. The potential devastation was more than he could wrap his head around.
As they got closer to the ranch, Naughton could see the vineyards ablaze through the thick gray haze of smoke. It was as though the vines had been lit with strings of bright orange lights.
When he pulled up to the gate and opened the truck’s window, the warm summer breeze combined with the heat of the fire came at him in suffocating waves.
“That you, Naughton?” Another vineyard owner standing near the gate asked.
“Know where Maddox is?”
“Waitin’ on you.”
Naughton pulled out his phone. “I’m at the gate,” he said when Mad answered.
“He’ll meet me here,” Naughton told Bradley after he disconnected Mad’s call. “Will you be okay driving the truck in?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll drive her in.” Naughton hadn’t seen Hawks approach.
“I can—”
“Hawks knows this land better than you do.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Instead of opening the door and getting out, Naughton leaned over and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to him. When her eyes met his and she didn’t resist, Naughton leaned over and covered her lips with his. He didn’t have time to linger or even think much beyond the feel of her tongue when she opened her mouth to let him in.
This would forever be their first kiss, and it was under the worst circumstances he could imagine. Not knowing what the next few hours would bring, he had to kiss her. He needed it to sustain him.
“You stay out of harm’s way, you understand?” he said, reluctantly pulling away from her.
“You, too.”
When Naughton got out of the truck, Bradley’s eyes filled with tears. She had no business getting emotional. She was trained to know how to handle vines after a fire. It was experience she got firsthand as part of a team who flew into California’s Lake Country when a wildfire destroyed almost ten-thousand acres of crops.
The impact of a fire in vineyards could manifest itself in several different ways. The amount and type of damage would determine the best approach to treating the vines. Some effects would be obvious, such as dehydrated leaves and burnt bark, but others would not.
They wouldn’t know anything until the fire was out. The longer it raged, the more danger they’d face in terms of crop loss. It wasn’t just Butler Ranch whose harvest was in jeopardy. Every grape grower for miles could face devastation from the smoke alone.
She wiped at her tears. If Hawks saw her crying now, he’d think she wasn’t cut out for the task ahead.
“Where are Naughton and Maddox going?” she asked as Hawks put the truck in gear.
“Heliport. They’re both certified pilots, trained by the USFS for aerial firefighting.”
Hawks turned off the main drive.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Vehicles are safer behind the main house. That sucker will never burn.”
Bradley prayed he was right. “Why not?”
“Naught’s grandpa put concrete all around the outside of the house, and then covered it in stone. Nowadays that’s common, especially in California, but back then it was unheard of. Old Grandpa Butler learned as much as he could from Julia Morgan.”
Bradley knew well that she had been the architect William Randolph Hearst hired to construct La Cuesta Encantada in San Simeon. However, she didn’t know the Butler family had a connection to it or her.
When they pulled closer to the house, Hawks pointed to the roof that was barely visible through the smoky haze. “Beneath the slate is galvanized steel. The castle’s roofs are tile, but over the same steel.”
“Did Naughton’s grandfather work for Julia Morgan?”
“Sure did. In fact, so did his grandmother. That’s where they met.”
She and Hawks climbed out of the truck and went through the courtyard that led to the house. Her lungs burned, and her eyes stung from the smoke-filled air and oppressive heat.
“Almost there,” he said, his eyes watering like hers were. “The main house is command central. We’ll get our marching orders here.”
Alex and Brodie were both on their phones when she and Hawks came inside. “Got it,” Bradley heard Alex say.
“Maddox wants me to talk Laird into staying in Cambria,” she said after she disconnected the call. “He took Sorcha and my mom to my place at the beach.”
Brodie ended his call and walked over. “Da is staying put for now.”
“You talked to him? Thank God. Maddox asked me to call him, but—”
“It’s okay, Al. He gets it.”
“Who’s moving the horses?” Alex asked.
“A few of my guys loade
d ’em up. They’re taking them to Demetria,” Hawks answered.
“What can I do?” Bradley asked.
“Not much right now. The fireline is about two miles north of where we are now. Since it’s shifted and moving this way, they’re saying it’ll be easier to contain than if it was spreading north,” Alex told her. “I’m staying as long as they’ll let me, or Maddox gets word to me that he wants me to do otherwise.” She looked at her watch. “He and Naught should be in the air soon.” When her phone buzzed, she stepped away to answer it.
“Not like the old days when we’d be out there with buckets and brooms—right, Brodie?” said Hawks.
“Is what Naughton’s doing dangerous?” Bradley asked.
“They have to get close because they’re dropping water, unlike the planes that’ll either spot for them from above or drop the retardant. Naught knows what he’s doing, though. He started volunteering for aerial firefighting shortly after he got his pilot’s license. Maddox hasn’t volunteered for as many fires, but he’s a good pilot. They’ll be fine,” Brodie assured her.
Bradley turned around to look for Alex and caught Hawks watching her. He had to have witnessed her and Naughton’s kiss, and under any other circumstances, Bradley would be mortified. Right now, though, she didn’t care.
She saw a tanker make one pass, dropping retardant on what Brodie explained was the southernmost fireline. To Bradley, it looked like they’d all landed in hell.
It occurred to her that she left Stave almost an hour ago and hadn’t heard a word from Trey.
At Butler Ranch, she texted, and waited to see if he’d respond. After five minutes, he still hadn’t.
“I just talked to Mad,” Alex reported. “He said from the air it looks pretty bad, but his spotter told him the fire was already fifty percent contained. Thankfully someone called it in before it spread out of control.”
“Who called it in? Your da?” Hawks asked Brodie.
“He said he didn’t. He and Ma were asleep.”
“Must’ve been one of the other vineyard owners spotted it, or smelled the smoke.”
Alex didn’t comment, but the look on her face worried Bradley. When Hawks and Brodie stepped away, Bradley asked. “Obviously you’re worried about the fire, but is there something else you’re not saying?” She said a silent prayer that whatever it was, wasn’t about Naughton.
“It’s something someone told Maddox about who called the fire in.”
“Who was it?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t who he thought.” Alex looked over at Brodie, who was walking back toward them. “I’ll tell you more later.”
“Naught is still dropping water, but he’s saying they’re optimistic about the containment. We might be able to get out in the vineyards in two or three hours, at least the ones outside the fire’s main path. The command chief said we can access the winery now to set up cold storage.” Brodie held up a radio. “He gave me this in case we have to evacuate. Ready?”
Bradley was thankful to finally have something useful she could do. If there was any fruit to salvage, timing was crucial, even on the vineyards that didn’t burn. Work to minimize or eliminate smoke taint had to begin almost immediately, otherwise, any wine Butler Ranch produced from this harvest would smell and taste like smoke. Setting up cold storage now would save them precious hours later, when they were able to get to the vines.
Once they were given the go-ahead, they’d check every accessible vineyard for fruit. If any was left hanging, it would be hand-harvested as quickly as possible. After that, any remaining leaf material would be removed. Leaves held the most smoke marker compounds, which would threaten any vines still alive.
The harvested fruit would be put into cold storage and held below fifty degrees Fahrenheit in order to minimize or eliminate smoke taint. Until they were able to get into the vineyards, they wouldn’t know the volume of fruit they were dealing with.
Every available body would be needed to pick. Aunt Jean told her word had gone out for help, but where was everyone?
Alex got on the phone again once they got to the winery. “I’ll let you know the minute we can go in,” Bradley heard her say before she disconnected the call.
“The natives are restless.”
“Huh?”
“Gabe said there must be more than five hundred people at Los Cab, waiting for word we can get out in the field.”
“Tell your brother we may need more,” replied Brodie.
It was after eight in the morning when Naughton drove along Adelaida Trail on his way back to the ranch. The fire was over ninety percent contained, and most of the active burning had been extinguished. As much as he wanted to close his eyes for a few minutes, he knew he’d never sleep.
Brodie had promised to let him know the condition of each vineyard they inspected. They hadn’t got through many yet, and worry was eating away at him. From the sky, the land looked charred.
He drove past Los Caballeros and saw the grounds and parking lots full of vehicles. Every person who had parked on the Avila’s property was at Butler Ranch, doing their best to salvage his vines. The enormity of the number of people the vehicles represented filled him with gratitude. His exhaustion made him emotional, but it was more than that.
Shortly after he’d made his final water drop and landed, Naughton walked into the command station for an update. He knew most of the guys who worked for the forest service, and the local firefighters, so he wasn’t surprised when a guy Kade went to school with approached him.
“Naughton Butler, I’d ask how the hell you are, but under the circumstances, I already know. What’s it been, fifteen years?”
“At least.” Naughton shook his hand. “Thanks for all you’re doing, Jay.” He looked at the station name on the man’s uniform. “You’re in Livermore now?”
“I am, but coincidentally, I was here conducting a training session. I took the call reporting the fire.”
“Who called it in?”
“Damn, strange thing. I could’ve sworn it was Kade, but before I had a chance to ask, the guy hung up.”
“What number did he call from?”
“Blocked. So how is your brother anyway? Still out saving the world and protecting the freedom of innocent guys like us?”
“Kade was killed in action over eighteen months ago.”
The glimpse of a smile that had been on Jay’s face quickly vanished. “I’m so sorry, Naught. I hadn’t heard.”
Naughton shrugged. “You didn’t know.”
“Sure sounded like him.” Jay shook his head. “Again, I’m real sorry, Naughton. Please give my regards to your family.”
So who had made the call? That’s what Naughton wanted to know now. It wasn’t his father, which would’ve explained why Jay thought the caller sounded like Kade, but his dad would’ve never just hung up, and when they asked, he said that he and their mother were asleep when they got the call alerting them. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of it, Naughton had bigger things to worry about, like whether any of the Butler Ranch vines had survived the fire.
6
They only had access to a few vineyards, none of which had been in the direct path of the fire. They couldn’t assume those vines had survived, though. Radiant heat from the blaze could kill them in the same way burning would.
Bradley and Brodie went row by row, cutting the T-buddings to check the cambium layer of each vine. If the tissue beneath the bark was creamy white with tinges of green, and moist, then the cambium was still alive, and there was a chance the vine would survive. So far all the vines they’d checked were still viable.
Hand-harvesters followed behind them, picking every remaining cluster they could. When to pick was no longer a factor. They needed to salvage fruit regardless of its ripeness. At the end of each row, runners waited to carry full bins into cold storage. Following the grape pickers were pruners, who were tasked with leaf removal.
Access had been granted at three in the morning, and thank
fully, Butler Ranch had big overhead lights already on premise for the upcoming harvest. Soon they’d have to decide whether to continue picking in the heat of the day or take a break until temperatures dropped when the sun went down.
When she asked Brodie, he wanted to know what she’d do if they were harvesting Jenson grapes.
“I’d keep picking,” she told him.
“Then we’ll pick until one of my brothers tells us otherwise.”
After he drove through the ranch gates, Naughton texted Brodie, who told him which vineyard he and Bradley were in. When he parked the truck and walked toward the vines, she was the first person he saw.
The feeling of calmness he experienced when she had put her hand on his arm earlier, filled him again. When he got closer, the calm turned to worry, not for the vines, but for her.
She was covered in the soot and ash that filled the air, and she looked exhausted, like they all were. Even from where he stood, he could see Bradley’s hands were raw and bleeding. Before she moved to the next vine, she wiped her brow with her sleeve, looked up, and met his eyes with hers.
“Naughton,” he heard her say as she dropped her knife into the dirt. She walked into his arms, and he held her close to him. When he saw Brodie walking over, he squeezed her tight, let her go, and stepped back.
Brodie embraced him. “Man, am I ever glad to see you.”
“Likewise,” Naughton said, tightening his hold on his brother.
“Where’s Mad?”
“He’s with Alex. He said he’d be out shortly. How’s it progressing?”
“Slow, but steady.”
“About time you got your ass back here,” he heard someone say.
When Naughton spun around, the boyfriend was walking toward him, now barking into a hand-held radio rather than at him.
“Get into vineyard twenty-two.” Naughton didn’t catch the answer the person gave, but the scowl the boyfriend leveled at Bradley made Naughton clench his fists.
“I don’t care what she told you. Go to twenty-two.”
The Secret (Butler Ranch Book 3) Page 5