by Holly Ford
Luke put the coffee down on the trestle table behind her. Settling himself on a chair, he let out his breath. ‘I can’t believe I have to have breakfast with that guy.’
‘You didn’t call him “sir” again, did you?’
‘I can’t help it. It just slips out.’ Luke laughed. ‘He scares the holy living crap out of me.’
Turning towards him, she shot off a few frames.
He rolled his eyes. ‘Let me see.’
‘Not on your life. I’m making the editorial decisions around here.’ She checked the shots.
‘So, how do I look?’
Well, it wasn’t the best portrait she’d ever taken, but … Ella felt her eyes grow a little soft. ‘You look …’ She bit her lip.
‘Happy? You can say it, you know. I am.’ He laughed again. ‘Especially now I’m out here.’
‘You’ll get used to him,’ she promised. ‘You’ll have to. Look how happy they are.’
‘Lizzie seems happy,’ he agreed. ‘As for Clint Eastwood there, how do you tell?’
‘You can tell,’ Ella smiled. ‘You just need to get to know him a little better, that’s all.’
Luke sighed.
‘Come on — you’ll charm him in the end.’
‘I’m trying my hardest.’
‘Yes.’ Walking over, she put her hands on his shoulders. ‘Maybe you should try a little less hard. Sometimes your charm can be … overwhelming.’
‘Overwhelming?’ Luke looked up at her sternly.
‘Well, you know,’ she said sweetly, running her hands around to the back of his neck, ‘you frequently overwhelm me.’
He pulled her into his lap. ‘Is that a complaint?’
Ella shook her head. ‘Certainly not.’
‘Are you sure?’ Luke tipped her into the grass. ‘Because it sounds as though it needs investigation to me.’
She giggled as his hand found its way down her jeans. ‘I’m not sure this is what Lizzie had in mind when she asked us to get the table ready.’
‘I suppose we should stop.’
‘We really should.’ She looked around. ‘Jules and Seb will be out any minute.’
‘All right.’ Luke straightened her shirt. ‘But only because you’re coming back with me tonight.’ He paused. ‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Ella smiled, ‘if you want me to.’
‘Oh,’ he grinned, ‘I do.’
Lizzie set the last serving platter down on the tablecloth.
‘Lizzie, love — this looks stunning.’ Seb filled her glass.
She patted his shoulder. Taking her seat, she raised her glass. ‘To the grapes’ — with a happy sigh, she looked around at her freshly picked vines — ‘and their being safely in French oak.’
‘To French oak,’ Jules said.
Lizzie clinked her glass. ‘God bless it.’ She passed the bread down the table. ‘Start, please.’
‘This terrine is delicious. What is it?’ Luke asked.
Lizzie shot a quick look at Carr, who put his hand over hers. ‘Rabbit,’ she said briskly. She eyed the wine on the table. ‘I’ll just get another bottle of pinot out of the cellar.’
‘I can get it.’ Ella started to get up.
She shook her head. ‘You don’t know which one.’ As Lizzie headed back to the house, her phone started to ring on the table. ‘Could you just see who that is?’ she called back to Carr.
‘That was Richard.’ Carr handed her the phone as she sat back down. ‘Calling to congratulate you on the harvest.’
‘Oh.’ Poor Richard, he must be feeling left out. He hated to miss a party.
Carr smiled. ‘Go on — call him back.’
Lizzie hesitated.
‘I’ll call him,’ Ella said. Getting out her phone, she walked to the end of the row.
‘Darling, this,’ said Seb, tucking into the lamb, ‘is the ideal vineyard lunch.’
‘It should be,’ laughed Jules. ‘She started planning it back in London.’
‘I did,’ Lizzie smiled. She could see Ella holding her phone up to show Richard the vines.
‘So,’ Jules asked, ‘is it everything you imagined?’
‘It’s better.’
Ella came back, pointing the phone. ‘Say hi, everybody — wave.’ Having made a round of the table, she drifted off again.
‘How was he?’ Lizzie asked, when Ella came back.
‘In good form,’ Ella grinned. ‘He’d just got home from dinner with the new Dominique.’
‘Oh good.’ She looked around the table. ‘Now, if everybody’s ready, we have dessert.’ Lizzie lifted the cloth off a dish to reveal a rather small bunch of deep purple grapes. ‘I saved us a bunch.’
Ella laughed. ‘Guy rejected it, you mean.’
‘Be that as it may, here they are. My very first grapes. I want us all to try one.’
‘I don’t know if I dare,’ said Jules.
Ella popped one into her mouth.
‘How is it?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Like trying to chew a volleyball …’ Ella clapped her hand to her mouth as the juice spurted down her chin.
‘Here.’ Luke peeled one for her. ‘Try it like this.’
‘Oh!’ Ella’s eyebrows rose. ‘It’s sweet.’
Seb surveyed the dish. ‘Somebody should say a few words,’ he decided. ‘Speech! Come on, Lizzie. We should at least have a toast.’
She shook her head. ‘I did my bit.’
‘Luke,’ Jules pounced, ‘how about you? I gather this vineyard was all your fault.’
Ella shot him a warning look.
‘Speechless.’ Luke held up his hands. ‘I swear.’
‘To Lizzie’s first vintage.’ Seb raised his glass. ‘May it stand the test of time.’
‘You know, I think it will.’ Lizzie settled back against Carr’s arm. ‘It’s been an awfully good year.’
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A BANTAM BOOK published by Random House New Zealand,
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First published 2014
© 2014 Holly Ford
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ISBN 978 1 77553 476 1
eISBN 978 1 77553 477 8
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Design: Carla Sy
Cover design: Kate Barraclough
Cover illustration: Global Stock/iStock and travellinglight/Thinkstock
A COMPELLING RURAL ROMANCE SET
IN THE RUGGED HIGH COUNTRY OF
NEW ZEALAND’S SOUTH ISLAND.
Four generations of the Black family have farmed Blackpeak Station. Next in line, or so she believes, is Charlotte Black, stubborn as rock and unbiddable as the weather. But standing in her way are 150 years of tradition, an older brother, and a father who believes that daughters run families, not farms.
To make her childhood dream of owning the family property come true, she’ll have to be as tough as the mountains themselves. There can be no room for romance in Charlotte’s life. Or so she thinks, until it arrives at her door.
Can she have both love and land? And which should she choose? Can Charlotte ever learn to trust her heart?
‘Blackpeak Station is a great read. It has a strong storyline, excellent flow, lots of “almost” local pillars and landmarks
. Well worth the recommended … retail price.’ — Jacquie Webby, Oamaru Mail
‘Nice to see a strong Kiwi heroine sticking to her guns and fighting for what she wants.’ — Shandelle Battersby, Weekend Herald
‘There is a real feel of New Zealand about this story which gives the whole book a genuine feel and it is a good story of ambition over tradition.’ — Gisborne Herald
‘Blackpeak Station is an easy read with likeable characters and a decent plot … While it is touted as a romance, author Holly Ford does a great job at chronicling the highs and lows, lives and losses of a farming family struggling to ensure the station’s future viability … a great escapist read for a rainy afternoon.’ — Rebekah Fraser, Greymouth Evening Star
‘Blackpeak Station is a celebration, in a sense, of high country life, and all its beauty and splendour. It has been sympathetically written to convey authentically the setting, the characters and relationships, and the challenges of living in this remote part of New Zealand. The story is engaging, the characters true, and the setting beautifully realised. If you think this is just another romance, think again as there are plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing. Blackpeak Station is contemporary, it is well written and gambols along at a pace to keep you hooked. It is, as they say, a really good yarn.’ — Wendy A. Mill, Daily News
‘With rural romance as a strong genre at present this is a worthy addition to the bookshelf and a great read to curl up with as the autumn chill arrives.’ — Latitude Magazine