He shrugs. “Don’t sound like one. Don’t act like one. Still got the last name, though.”
The air between us hums—less storm, more curiosity now.
“I should get back to work,” I say finally, motioning toward the vines.
“Sure thing.” He heads back toward his truck. “If you change your mind about that branch, I’ll be around. The distillery’s just down the hill. Ask for Calder.”
Calder.
He jumps in his truck and drives away.
The name lingers after he’s gone. I didn’t make the connection when he introduced himself as Cal. But when he said Calder, I knew for sure. He’s Tristan’s younger brother.
By the time I drag the rake back to the porch, the fog has fully burned off. Down in the valley, sunlight flashes off the distillery roof like a mirror signal.
Cal is charming and easy-going. But his brother… he’s going to be a problem.
I wonder why Cal showed up here. Coincidence? Or a warning.
Either way, I’m starting to think Shadow Falls doesn’t believe in accidents.
CHAPTER 4
Tristan
The valley looksclean this morning.
Another storm scrubbed away the mud, the footprints, the evidence—but not the feeling. The air still hums with leftover electricity, like the mountains remember what I did two nights ago.
From my office window, the ridge road glints in the sun, curling toward the Voss Estate. Somewhere up there, she’s moving through the vines again, stubborn and alive, pretending the world didn’t just try to warn her.
The mask didn’t scare her off like I hoped.
And now I feel restless, my mind turning over plans to get rid of her even as a part of me keeps returning to the way she stood in the rain: small, soaked, and furious. It shouldn’t do anything to me, but it does.
A knock breaks the silence. It’s barely a tap before Calder pushes the door open and strolls in, a thermos in one hand and a grin that’s a little too satisfied. He always knows when I’m off balance.
“Morning,” he says, setting the thermos on my desk. “Coffee. You look like someone who didn’t sleep.”
I don’t answer. He knows he’s right.
He drops into the chair across from me, long legs sprawling, sunlight catching the damp ends of his hair. “So… I met our neighbor.”
My head lifts. “What?”
“Raine Voss.” He says her name like he’s trying it out. “Stopped by to check on her after the storm. She’s got the place cleaned up already—impressive, really.”
A pulse of irritation sparks low in my chest. “You went up there?”
“Technically, I drove up the access road. She was outside.” He grins when he sees my expression. “Relax. I didn’t threaten her. I moved a tree branch and made polite conversation. You should try it sometime.”
“She doesn’t need your help.”
“She seemed to be in agreement with you.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “She’s determined to reopen the vineyard? Weddings, tastings, all of it.”
“I know.”
“She’s serious, Tristan. You can’t scare her off.”
