Instead, he pointed out landmarks as they passed. The turnoff to the nature reserve. The trailhead that led to his favorite overlook. The bend in the river where he’d caught his first fish with his father, hands cold and heart full.
“Your whole life is here,” Hannah whispered.
“It is,” Caleb agreed. “I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else.”
“Really?” Hannah sounded genuinely surprised. “You’ve never wanted to experience life outside of Bear Creek?”
Caleb considered the question as they rounded a bend and the valley opened up before them.
“No,” he said at last, gesturing toward the view. “I’d miss this. And my family. The restaurant. It’s in my blood, I guess.”
Hannah nodded, something thoughtful flickering across her expression. “That’s... I’ve never had anything like that.”
There was a note in her voice that made Caleb wonder about her own story, the places she’d been, the things that might have pushed her forward instead of anchoring her in place. Before he could ask, the vineyard came into view, rows of trellised vines stretching across the gentle slope, the place obviously carefully tended and deeply loved.
“Oh,” Hannah breathed, sitting up a little straighter. “That’s gorgeous.”
Caleb smiled, pleased by her reaction. “Wait until you see it up close.”
He turned onto the gravel drive that led to the main building, a stone structure with a red-tiled roof that housed both the processing facility and the tasting room. Parking near the entrance, he came around to open Hannah’s door.
As he helped her out, he hoped, fiercely, that maybe, just maybe, she would choose to stay.
And if she didn’t, he knew with a certainty that surprised him, he would leave this place. The mountains. The restaurant. His family.
For her. For love.
Chapter Nine – Hannah
The vineyard shimmered in the afternoon light, rows of vines stretching across the valley floor in perfect, undulating lines that rippled as the breeze passed through them.
Hannah followed Caleb up the gravel path toward the winery building, still trying to absorb the beauty surrounding them. The mountains cradled the valley on all sides, their slopes dense with evergreens that gave way to the orderly patterns of grapevines below. The air felt warmer here, more invigorating, carrying subtle hints of grape and earth.
“I didn’t know Bear Creek had anything like this,” she said, her voice full of wonder.
Caleb smiled, clearly pleased by her reaction. “Most people don’t. We’re known for the mountains, not vineyards. But the microclimate in this valley is perfect for certain types of grapes. Over the years, my aunt and uncle and my cousins have experimented with different types, always seeking to improve the taste of the wine.”
They reached the stone building, its weathered exterior speaking of permanence and patience. Caleb pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, holding it for her.
“Philip. Kris?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the empty tasting room.
Silence answered him.
Hannah took in the interior. It was clean but rustic, with a long bar of polished wood down the length of the room, and bottles lining the walls behind it. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting soft patterns across the stone floor.
“I thought they were expecting us,” she said when no answer came.
“They are,” Caleb replied, leading her back outside and closing the door behind them. “Let’s go and see if there’s anyone in at the house.”
“Sure.” Hannah fell into step beside him as they followed a path that curved through a small garden toward a hacienda-style house nestled against the hillside.
She wasn’t complaining about the detour. If anything, she welcomed it. The house was unlike anything she’d seen in Bear Creek, so different from the timber cabins and stone-built mountain homes she’d passed through town. This place looked as though it had been lifted from somewhere warmer, older. Spain, maybe. Or Mexico. Its terracotta roof and pale stucco walls stood out against the surrounding green, bold and soft all at once.
Caleb glanced at her and smiled, as if reading her thoughts. “My aunt and uncle traveled a lot. When they came back, my uncle built this for her.”
“It’s beautiful,” Hannah said.
What must it be like to care for someone so deeply that you’d build them their dream? To be loved, and to love in return, with that kind of devotion. It felt rare. Precious.
