“Jake—”
“I’m not telling you this for pity. I’m telling you because I understand being afraid. I understand protecting yourself by notgetting too attached.” He met Wes’s eyes. “But I also know the regret that comes from letting fear make your choices.”
Wes reached across the table, taking Jake’s hand. “I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“It’s just with Henry?—”
“I know that too.” Jake squeezed his fingers. “I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not ready for. I’m just asking you to think about what you actually want. Not what you think you should do, or what’s safe, or what’s expected. What do you want?”
Wes didn’t have an answer for that. Not yet.
The Whitlock vineyard was smaller than Wes had expected—ten acres of neat rows, dormant for winter. Sarah and Keith met them at the house, both in work clothes, coats, and gloves.
“Jake!” Sarah hugged him like an old friend. “And you must be Wes. We’ve heard so much about you.”
“All good,” Keith added with a grin. “Come see what we’re building.”
They spent the next hour touring the property. Keith and Sarah talked over each other, finishing sentences, laughing at inside jokes. They explained they had bought the land two years ago with their entire savings, plus loans from both families.
“Everyone thought we were crazy,” Sarah said. “Leaving secure jobs in Nashville to grow grapes in Georgia.”
“Are you?” Wes asked.
“Probably,” Keith laughed. “But it’s the good kind of crazy. The kind where you wake up excited about the day.”
They showed off the new irrigation system Keith’s brother had helped install, the processing equipment bought secondhand from a vineyard that had upgraded, and the plans for a tasting room once they had product to sell.
“We won’t see a profit for at least three more years,” Sarah admitted. “Maybe five.”
“Doesn’t that terrify you?”
“Every day.” She looked at Keith, grinning. “But we’re terrified together.”
“That’s the key,” Keith said. “Neither of us could do this alone. I handle the agriculture. Sarah handles the business. When one of us is ready to give up, the other one takes over.”
“Like last month,” Sarah said. “When the irrigation system broke, and Keith had a complete meltdown.”
“Or two weeks ago, when all the paperwork made you cry.”
“Exactly.” Sarah bumped his shoulder affectionately. “That’s what partnership is. Taking turns being strong.”
Wes thought about all the times he’d needed to be weak, to break down, to rest—and hadn’t let himself. There was no one to take over, no one to share the burden.
“The community’s been incredible too,” Keith added. “Chuck and Brody have been giving us business advice. Tucker connected us with suppliers. Even Cassie’s been tooting the horn about our future tasting room.”
“Everyone wants us to succeed,” Sarah said. “It’s like the whole town adopted us.”
Wes knew that feeling. Spoon had always been good at taking care of its own. He’d just been too proud—or too scared—to accept it.
As they were leaving, Sarah pulled Wes aside. “Can I say something?”
“Sure.”
“Jake talks about you—the tree farm, the carvings, and how hard you work. He lights up when he mentions you.”
Wes looked over at Jake, who was chatting and laughing with Keith.
