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Freya shoved her arm.

Otto sighed, but Alana didn’t miss the glint in his eye. They were frustrating him, and he secretly enjoyed it. “Alana, go help Leo with the tables. Freya, I think Trent arrived with the bread. Let’s help him.”

Alana perked up. “Sourdough Trent?”

Freya frowned. “You know Trent?”

“Screw tables.” Alana pointed to Freya. “You can handle that with Leo. I’m going to go help Trent.”

“How do you know Trent?!” Freya bellowed.

“We’re buds!”

“How?! You’ve been home for literally five seconds!”

“What can I say?” Alana shrugged and walked backward. “The people love me.”

“Said no one ever.”

Alana blew her kisses, which made Freya growl, her hands tightening into fists by her side.

She belly-laughed as she turned and marched toward the van and the beaming bearded man in a flannel. When Trent saw her, he tipped his head back and laughed. She grinned right back, feeling light as a feather.

Her sister fought with her like they used to, again. Maybe the wine worked after all.

7

The markets were apparently Freya’s idea. In the past, Marien didn’t invite large groups of people to the vineyard. The tasting room was ideal for eight to ten people max, and tastings only happened through scheduled appointments. Walk-ins were not allowed. Neither were large groups or parties of any kind. Part of it was the lack of space, and the other part was their limited staff. The staff being the family. They didn’t invite others to come work for them. It was safer that way.

Yet now there were at least a hundred people on their property, and Alana’s anxiety was at an all-time high.

Despite her efforts to try to ignore him, Alana ended up behind the Marien booth, managing admin and sales while Leo talked about the wine next to her. Bear occasionally joined them but was far more occupied swerving through the crowds and making an appearance at every single booth.

She sat up straight and eyed the McCallister house across the street. It was still dark, no signs of movement, no cars in the driveway. She had yet to see Tess, or even her younger sister Kaia. She relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, the folding chair digging into her spine.

“The rosé is a blend of seventy percent Lemberger and thirty percent Cabernet Franc,” he explained as he poured a taste for the two people on the other side of the table, holding out miniature plastic cups like an offering. “You’ll get even more fruit notes on the palate because of it, like rich raspberry and blackberry, versus our previous vintage that had more green pepper and cherry from the Cab Franc.”

The tasters nodded along as they sipped on the wine. Alana watched warily as their faces lifted, the couple sharing glances with smiles curling up their cheeks.

She sighed, bagging a bottle right before they declared, “We’ll take one.”

It had always been easy to sell bottles with luck on their side. Yet at the rate they were selling, she wondered how Marien’s inventory could possibly survive if they sold this many bottles every single Saturday. Before she left, Marien’s production average was just over three thousand cases a year, the rosé counting for around five hundred of them. She wasn’t sure what production numbers looked like now, but at this rate, if they were going to fly through cases every Saturday, there would be nothing left to sell to tours and tasting groups throughout the rest of the year. Especially if the next round of cases from the current year wouldn’t be ready until next Spring.

The couple showered Leo with compliments about the wine. He smiled politely back, nodding in thanks as they left the tent.

“I sell a bottle every time someone tastes, without fail,” he exclaimed. He shook his head as he took stock of what they had left. “I don’t get it.”

Alana closed her eyes and leaned back, resting her neck at the top of her folding chair. “Our wine is good. What’s not to get?”

“You’d think at this point someone would say they don’t like it.”

“So you admit it, you think the wine you make is bad.”

She listened to his heavy sigh beside her, then the ripping of cardboard and tape as he opened another case. “Do you always do that?”

She opened a single eye in his direction. “Do what?”

He gently placed bottles of rosé on the table. “Deflect with sarcasm.”