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Could anything lessen the pain and trauma of a young child watching his mother die?
The night of the funeral had been the first time Joey had woken screaming and thrashing in his bed. The episode had taken years off Griffin’s life, but now he was used to the unsettling incidents. He’d wake within seconds of hearing the boy and bound to his bedside to comfort him. It was the only time Joey allowed himself to be touched.
It made Griffin’s heart break to feel that small body trembling in his arms and damned if he had any idea how to help the boy.
“I called Dr. Cunningham earlier,” he told his mother, massaging his hand against the back of his neck. “To say he was surprised to hear from me would be the understatement of the year.”
She smiled. “The thought of you calling your former pediatrician for advice is fairly shocking.”
“I get it. He gave me the names of a couple of child psychologists to call. I’ll try them on Monday morning. I think it would help if Joey had someone to talk to. I know it would help me.”
“You’re doing a good job,” she said, placing a comforting hand on his arm.
“Only you could say that at this point.” He laughed. “I’ve managed to muck up every part of my life once again. Maggie is done with me, and I can’t imagine how Marcus took my absence.”
Jana leaned one hip against the counter. “It would have helped if you’d let me talk to him about why you left.”
Griffin shook his head. “I couldn’t deal with people knowing when I wasn’t sure what exactly was going to happen with Joey.”
“Would you have stayed in Seattle if he’d put up a fight about coming here?”
“Of course. At least for a while. Hell, I almost wish he had resisted. Or showed any kind of emotion. It was like the sicker Cassie got, the more Joey retreated into his shell. I should have done more to bond with him, but I was so focused on her.”
“She was lucky to have you,” his mother told him.
“It’s so unfair,” he muttered. “She seemed happy and healthy when she came to visit in the fall. Maybe I’m not the right person to judge. Cassie and I were both a bit of a mess when we were together.”
“Which is perhaps why the relationship didn’t work?” She sipped her tea. “You never talked much about her.”
He shrugged. “We dated for six months when we were in our early twenties. To be honest, we were too much alike to be together in that way. I was drinking a lot and Cassie...” He closed his eyes as he remembered some of the wild times they’d had together. The memories were hazy and left him with a sick pit in his stomach. “Cassie had other vices. But she finally had her life on track, and she was a great mom.”
“He’s a sweet boy.”
Panic tightened like a noose around Griffin’s chest. “Am I going to screw him up, Mom? Should I have stayed in Seattle?”
“What do you think?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know.” He downed the glass of tea then set in on the counter, but the cool liquid did nothing to ease the burning in his chest. “Actually, I do know. He’ll be better here, or at least I will, and that has to be better for him.” He met his mother’s gentle gaze. “I don’t know how I could face this without you.”
“I’m here for whatever you need.”
Before Cassie’s summons, Griffin had been staying in the efficiency apartment above the barn on the property. He’d planned to rent a place in town so that he and Maggie could have more privacy. Now he was back in his childhood bedroom, with Joey across the hall in Trevor’s room. It had made the most sense logistically so that his mom could help with the boy.
“I want to be a part of Harvest,” he told her. “This is my home. The grapes are in my blood.”
“I know,” she murmured.
“But Joey has to be my first priority.”
“Yes,” his mother agreed without hesitation.
“What does that mean for the CEO position?”
She lifted the pitcher and refilled his glass. “Your dad managed the company and his family. Being a father doesn’t mean you can’t run the vineyard as well if that’s what you want.”
“A father,” Griffin repeated, a little stunned at the words.
“That’s what you’ll be to him. We’re his family now.”
Griffin nodded. Cassie had told him she didn’t know who Joey’s father was. She’d been an only child and her parents had died in a car crash when she was seventeen. She had no siblings and no relationship with any extended family.
“I need to talk to Trevor,” he said, almost to himself.
“He’s still angry at you for leaving.” Jana’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “At Marcus for wanting to wait for you to take over his job and at me for supporting him in that decision.”
“Maybe Trevor has a point.”
His mother shook her head. “He’ll understand once you explain about Joey. I’m surprised the news didn’t sway Maggie.”
Griffin looked out the kitchen window. It overlooked the backyard, which included a large flagstone patio, built-in grill, seating area and a stone fire pit. Beyond that was an expansive yard with ornamental grasses and beds of perennials. It was the only part of the property they kept properly manicured.
He’d have to build a play set for Joey, as the one he and Trevor had used had been removed years ago. Maybe a tree house too. He’d always wanted one in the big maple tree in the corner, but his father never had time.
“I didn’t mention it,” he said, turning his back to his mom.
“Griffin.” The word was a soft admonishment.
“I couldn’t guilt her into taking me back.”
“You hurt her badly.”
“I get that.” He felt a muscle tick in his jaw and pressed two fingers to it. “Maybe I didn’t understand while I was in Seattle, but I do now.”
“So you’re going to let her go?”
He squeezed shut his eyes then opened them again. “What other choice do I have?”
“You could fight for her.”
“What do I have to offer?” He lifted a hand, ticking off all the areas of his life that were in chaos. “I’m the guardian of a boy who just lost his only parent and will barely make eye contact with me. I have no actual job at the moment and I’m back to living with my mom.”
“Maggie moved in with her father when she rented her house before the wedding.”
“That’s temporary.”
“So is this,” she reminded him. “You have a job if you want it, Griffin. You have a place at Harvest. You always have.”
He laughed at the absurdity of that statement. “Not when Dad was alive.”
“He would have come around eventually,” his mother insisted.
“Doubtful.”
“This isn’t about your father. You love Maggie.”
“Who knows if what I felt was even real. I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to make a relationship like that work in the first place. My track record is spotty at best.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
He stepped forward and drew his mom in for a quick hug. “You give me too much.”
A faint sound drew his attention to the far side of the room. Joey stood in the doorway, clutching his blanket in one hand with his other thumb shoved in his mouth.
“Look who’s awake,” Jana murmured with a smile.
“Hey, buddy.” Griffin plastered the biggest, brightest smile he could manage onto his face. “Did you have a nice nap?”
The boy shrugged.
“Would you like to make some cookies?” Griffin’s mother asked. “I have ingredients for chocolate chip or peanut butter. Which do you like best?”
Joey stared at her for a moment then popped his thumb out of his mouth. “Peanut butter.”
Jana let out what sounded to Griffin like a relieved sigh. She’d probably wondered if the boy would even answer her. “Peanut butter it is.”
Joey stepped into the kitchen, the corner of his tattered blanket trailing across the travertine tiles. “Are you going to make cookies?” he asked Griffin.
“Um...” Griffin glanced at his mother then back to Joey. “I’d love to, but I need to do a walk-through of the vines before I meet with Marcus...” He paused, then clarified, “He’s the man who runs the vineyard right now and I’m going to help with his job now that we’re here to stay.”
“I’m so glad to hear that,” his mother whispered, squeezing his arm on the way to the pantry.
“I want to come with you,” the boy mumbled.
Jana stilled.
“Are you sure?” Griffin scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “I’m just walking through fields, checking on rows of grapevines. Your... My... Ms. Jana here is offering an amazing afternoon filled with sugar and chocolate chips and—”
“I like it outside,” Joey said simply.
Griffin glanced at his mother, who smiled and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “All those years when you’d try to follow your dad around while he worked. Who would have ever thought you’d be in his shoes?”
She meant the words as a compliment. A fond reminiscence of her late husband. Because of that, Griffin didn’t correct her. But he wanted to. He wanted to shout and rail that he was nothing like his dad. If Joey wanted to shadow him in the fields, he’d let him and the afternoon wouldn’t be filled with lectures and admonishments.
“Do you have boots?”
“Nope,” came the boy’s answer.
“Your gym shoes will suffice for now, but you’ll need something sturdier as the weather gets colder.”
“What’s sur-fice?” the boy asked, his little brows furrowing.
“They’ll be okay until we get you new shoes,” Griffin clarified.
“Can the new ones have basketballs on them?”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“Does that mean yes or no?”
Jana laughed then covered it with a cough. Griffin shot her a glare then returned his attention to Joey.
“It means I’ll try,” he told the boy.
Joey cocked his head, like a puppy studying his owner after being told to sit for the first time. The seconds ticked by, but Griffin didn’t dare move. Somehow this moment felt like a test, and he’d never been great at tests.
“Okay,” his new ward answered finally, and the tightness in Griffin’s chest eased slightly.
Maybe trying really would be good enough.
“I’ll have cookies waiting when you get back,” his mom promised.
“Thanks,” he told her and hoped she realized it was for so much more than just the promise of cookies.
His first instinct was to take Joey’s hand, but he worried that would cause the boy to shut down. So he inclined his head toward the door. “Follow me and pay attention. Today is your first lesson as an apprentice vintner.”
Joey fell into step a pace behind him. “What’s a vintner?”
“Someone who makes wine.”
“What’s wine?”
Griffin shook his head as he led the way out the front door and started toward the hill that would take them down to the estate field, Inception, the first his father had planted. “It’s grape juice for adults.”
“I like chocolate milk,” Joey reported.
“Of course you do.” The boy had no idea what he was talking about, but he was talking. The mere fact made Griffin smile for the first time in weeks.
With a little luck, he’d get his life back on track sooner than later.
Chapter Two
Maggie glanced around the illuminated town square later that night. Just as Jacob promised, everything looked perfect. She was relieved and grateful that so many residents had attended the lighting of the town Christmas tree and were now taking part in the Winter Wonderland festival. Sometimes it was hard to keep track of which event was happening on what night. Stonecreek’s community calendar was as jam-packed as a socialite’s in the middle of the Season.
But they were a small town without any big industry or corporation to anchor them. Tourism was a huge deal, all year round. The popularity of Harvest Vineyard helped with that, especially during the fall. That fact didn’t make her breakup with Griffin any easier, just as it had complicated calling off the wedding to Trevor in the spring. Somehow she and their mother had managed to keep a friendly working relationship. Jana Stone had even become something of a mentor to Maggie, although they hadn’t spoken much in the weeks since Griffin left for Seattle.
She hoped that could change now that he’d returned, whether or not he chose to stay. Maggie liked having an experienced woman to talk to and bounce ideas off since she was trying to pull back from discussing town business with her grandmother.
Grammy meant well but it was often difficult for her to remember that she’d retired from the position of mayor, and although Maggie loved her, she wouldn’t be a puppet to her grandmother’s whims regarding how the town should be run.
“Everything looks beautiful.”
Maggie whirled around to find her grandmother standing directly behind her, Christian Milken, the CEO of LiveSoft, at her side.
Grammy frowned. “Mary Margaret, are you blushing?”
Maggie pressed a hand to her cheek and smiled at them both. “No, of course not. I think it’s the cold.”
“It’s still nearly fifty degrees,” her grandmother pointed out. “Unseasonably warm for December.”
“I’m wearing a coat,” Maggie said, even though the light jacket she’d worn over her red fit-and-flare dress offered little warmth, as it was more for fashion than function. She shrugged out of it anyway.
“That’s a lovely dress,” Christian said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m curious to know what you were thinking of just then.” Grammy shook her head and lowered her voice to a whisper. “No time to sit on your laurels, girly. We started off the competition with a bang but we’ll need to keep up the full-court press if we’re going to convince LiveSoft to choose Stonecreek.”
“Right.” Maggie offered an awkward smile to Christian. Even Grammy’s quiet voice had a way of carrying. Now she really was blushing, embarrassed that her grandmother had so quickly and carelessly reduced an evening of holiday cheer to something almost mercenary in nature.
Yes, she wanted to win the competition—her town could use the influx of revenue and jobs. What town couldn’t?
But tonight was also about having fun and kicking off the holiday season. Maggie loved Christmas. Some of her fondest memories from childhood, before her mother’s death, were of how special the holidays had been. They’d cut down a real tree out in the woods every year, strung popcorn as garland and sung carols around the fire. Her mom had been a fantastic baker, and Maggie had been so proud to deliver cookies to neighbors and friends.
She’d tried her best to keep some of the family traditions alive once her mom died, but it hadn’t been easy. Then she’d gotten busy with her own life and it felt like her family had lost something precious. She’d moved back to her house two weeks ago when the tenants she’d rented it to had decided to return to Alabama a few months early. But she’d vowed to make this Christmas extra special for her younger siblings, Morgan and Ben, and their father. Along with her extra work on the town’s campaign for LiveSoft, she hoped to keep herself so busy she wouldn’t have any time to miss Griffin.
“I need to talk to Dora about the uneven icing on her cookies,” Grammy said, already looking past Maggie. “Mary Margaret, entertain Christian please.” Without waiting for an answer, Vivian walked away, much like Maggie imagined the queen would after giving an order to one of her faithful servants.
“I used to know how to juggle,” she told Christian with a shrug. “But I’m pretty rusty and fresh out of props.”
“Know any magic tricks?” he asked, raising a thick brow. “Or a good knock-knock joke?”
Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. But I do know the ladies over at the high school boosters’ booth make the best hot chocolate in town. Would you like to join me for a cup?”
“That sounds perfect.”
She glanced at Christian out of the corner of her eye as they got in line at the booth. He was handsome in a country-club sort of way, short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He was always clean-shaven from what she’d seen and favored tailored shirts and pressed jeans with expensive-looking loafers.
She’d done her research on the CEO, born and raised in Boston to a former senator and his homemaker wife. Christian had attended private schools and then graduated from Harvard before moving to the West Coast to start LiveSoft. He’d been one of the company’s founders, although she remained fuzzy on his role in developing the app. However, he’d become the face of the brand and was thought to be responsible for much of the company’s meteoric growth.
In fact, social media and marketing were his specialties. The public campaign to help choose the company headquarters had been his idea.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight,” she said, inclining her head toward the towering Christmas tree in the center of the square. “And not just because of the competition, despite what Grammy would have you think.”
“It was great,” he said. “Very Norman Rockwell.”
“We’re all community spirit around here,” she said, then cringed. “I hate that everything I say to you sounds like I’m selling Stonecreek.”
“I don’t mind,” he insisted. “We were in Timmins last night and they tried to manufacture snow and ended up causing a minor flood in the elementary school gym.”
“Oh, my,” she breathed. They stopped at the back of the long line for hot chocolate. “At least we didn’t go that over the top.” She arched a brow. “Unless you like over-the-top and I’ll make sure to ramp things up.”
“Move aside, people!”
Maggie glanced sharply toward the covered booth in front of them as the crowd parted. Grady Wilson, who ran the only locally owned gas station in town, made his way forward, elbowing people out of the way as he did. Grady’s grandson was the quarterback for the high school football team, so he and his wife were very involved in the boosters.
Grady grinned at Maggie. “Our beloved mayor and potential beloved town savior shouldn’t have to wait for a hot drink.”
“It’s fine,” Christian called, waving a hand. “I don’t mind waiting my turn.”
“Town savior?” Maggie muttered, shaking her head. “I guess we’ve got over-the-top covered after all.”
Grady approached them with a wide smile, a steaming cup in each hand. “Nonsense,” he insisted. “I gave you both extra whipped cream too. Our Maggie here’s a big fan of whipped cream.”
Christian raised a brow in her direction, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
She felt color rise to her cheeks again. Grady certainly didn’t mean his comment to sound like a sexual innuendo, but somehow it came out that way.
As she thanked him for the hot chocolate, she noticed the assistant who’d filmed the lighting of the town tree earlier standing a few feet to the side, her phone held aloft like she was taking a video of this episode.
“You stick with Maggie,” Grady told Christian. “She’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”
Maggie darted another look at the camera then forced a bright smile. “Everyone in Stonecreek is excited about this opportunity,” she announced. “Aren’t we, folks?”
The people in line gave an enthusiastic round of applause—bless them—and Christian toasted Maggie’s cup of hot chocolate. “To new opportunities,” he said, making his voice loud enough to carry and earning more clapping.
As they turned to head back toward the center of the square, he leaned in closer. “And to extra whipped cream,” he whispered, his voice teasing.
“That did not mean what you might have thought it meant,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “Are we still on camera?”
He shrugged but kept his gaze forward. “Danielle was going to get some extra footage in case she needed filler, but I doubt it will be used and there’s no audio with it.”
“Okay, good. I’m not used to my every move being documented.”
“Aren’t you on social media?” he asked, brows pinching.
“Yes, but I’m not active. It doesn’t come naturally to me.”
“That’s why you need LiveSoft,” he told her. “The app can organize everything for you in a way that makes it less overwhelming and more streamlined.” He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Now I sound like a walking advertisement for my own company. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. You have a great product. I do plan to use the app, although I’m horrible with technology.”
“I could give you a tutorial,” he offered. “Maybe over dinner one night next week? I’m heading out early tomorrow to get ready for a meeting on Monday, but I’ll be back by the end of the week.”
“Dinner?” she said, her voice coming out in a squeak.
“You’ve heard of it, right?” His smile was teasing and more than a little flirty.
Christian Milken was flirting with her. She fought the urge to check on the camera again. How was it possible that she’d just sworn off men, and suddenly, in the span of twenty-four hours, Griffin had reappeared and Christian was asking her out? Okay, wait. Maybe she was reading too much into this. If Stonecreek was chosen as LiveSoft’s headquarters, he’d be relocating here. He probably was just being friendly...neighborly even.
“Of course,” she said with forced cheer. “Dinner would be lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you,” he murmured and lifted his hand to trace a finger along her jaw.
So much for being neighborly.
A throat cleared behind Maggie, and she whirled around to find Griffin standing there, a wine bottle in each hand. His expression was dark as midnight, his green eyes intense on her.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said through clenched teeth.
She shook her head, swallowing down the lump of emotion that welled in her throat at the sight of him.
“Have you met Christian Milken?” she asked stepping back to include the CEO in the conversation.
“That’s why I’m here.” Griffin’s voice was tight but he gave Christian a friendly smile. “I’m Griffin Stone from Harvest Vineyard. We donated a few bottles of wine for the silent auction earlier, and I thought you might like to add a couple to your collection.”
Christian took one of the bottles Griffin held out and studied the label. “Pinot Noir. That’s my preferred type.”
“I heard.” Griffin flicked a glance toward Maggie then back to Christian. “We’re all excited about the potential of having you make Stonecreek your new headquarters. I can tell you it’s a fantastic place for a growing business. The town does its best to make sure the business community is taken care of.”
Maggie’s fingers tightened around her cup of hot chocolate. Here was one more example of a perfectly innocuous comment sounding vaguely suggestive to her ears. Like she was personally responsible for servicing local business owners. She knew Griffin didn’t mean it that way, any more than Grady had, and hoped Christian understood it too.
“I’m coming to appreciate what Stonecreek has to offer more with each moment,” Christian said, inclining his head toward her.
Griffin’s broad shoulders went even stiffer, if that was possible. Not that Christian would notice. Griffin wore faded jeans, another thick flannel shirt and a baseball cap with the Harvest Vineyard logo stitched on the front. To the casual observer, he’d appear to be relaxed and easy-going, just another resident helping to make a good impression.
But Maggie could feel the tension radiating from him.
“The business owners around here support each other,” she said with patently fake cheer. “It’s one of the things that make us stand out.”
“Among others,” Christian murmured softly.
“Harvest is a great example of that,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Griffin’s father founded the vineyard. From the start, and especially in the past few years, they’ve become a leader in the Oregon wine industry.”
Christian adjusted the scarf wound around his neck and nodded. “I met your brother last week,” he told Griffin. “He has some big plans for expansion.”
“Yes, he does,” Griffin agreed almost reluctantly. “But we’re also focused on environmental stewardship and the type of community we create. Our entire team contributes to the end product. We want to make our company healthy for the land and the people who work for us.”