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Raised voices at the porch brought her attention back to the two of them. Klaus was waving goodbye as Freya flicked him off. He then waved at Alana, to which she replied by also flipping the bird. He shrugged with a chuckle, then climbed into his Porsche and swiftly left.

Alana then raised a thumbs-up to Freya, asking her if she was successful.

Freya returned with a thumb that didn’t quite look up, but she shrugged and snatched her own gloves.

“Good for now, I guess,” Alana said.

It took them six days to harvest all the grapes, and after forty-eight more hours, they would be finished. Neither Alana nor Leo expected to sleep much during that time frame. Between cleaning and sorting the grapes, moving the whole clusters to press, then racking the juice to tanks for fermentation…they had a lot of work ahead of them. And they had to do it all quickly while the grapes were fresh.

So they drank countless pots of coffee and a few bottles of wine as they worked. Alana found her old album of burned CDs and spent the time educating Leo on some of the classics, like Avril Lavigne, Yellowcard, and All Time Low. He listened politely, and even though she could tell it wasn’t his thing, he never complained. It felt like the old times, when she would blast music with Mom and press grapes and taste the fresh juice, singing until their voices were hoarse, staying up until the sun slowly crested over the lake and it was time for a power nap.

In the meantime, Sophie and Freya worked on setting up for the festival. They’d managed to rent a small amphitheater for live entertainment. A few local bands agreed to play for the celebration, and it wasn’t until later that Alana learned her sisters were getting all of these things for free.

“People in the community want to help out,” Sophie answered one morning as they communed over a quick cup of coffee before getting back to her work. Her smile was shy, and she was looking a smidge green, which was common these days. “Isn’t that so sweet?”

“Yeah, it is.” Alana exhaled. “Why do I feel like we’ll never be able to return the favor?”

Otto patted her back. “We already do, sweetheart. We provide more than wine when we pour for our guests.”

Alana rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Sweetheart, why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest? The wine will⁠—”

She bolted out of her seat. “No. There’s too much to do, and not enough time to do it. We have to keep working.”

“But—”

She dumped the rest of her coffee in the sink. “Besides, Leo is already down there working. I should be too.”

“Alana—”

She ignored him as she stepped out of the house and made her way to the winery. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but part of her hoped that maybe if this harvest went well, so would everything else. She had to keep moving, keep her hands busy. Otherwise her mind would wander, and she suspected where it would go.

Especially when it came to how much they could lose…and who.

24

It felt like a blink, and as quickly as harvest started, it was done. The yeast and the fresh-pressed juice fermented slowly at cold and moderately cool temperatures in stainless-steel tanks, and it would be a few more weeks before they bottled or moved wine to barrels for aging. Alana didn’t have much time for anything else, but thankfully her sisters had the festival under control.

Sophie used the leftover strands of twinkling lights and streamers from her birthday to decorate the porch and amphitheater, wrapping them around the beams and the railings. A small sound crew set up speakers and a mixing board, and the opening band was strumming at their instruments as everyone else got things set up. Trent had a booth full of festive sweet treats—danishes made with local jam and crullers dipped in frosting made with lavender from their fields. Connie, who refused to look at Trent across the way, had baskets of wildflowers at the ready, with artists that helped weave them into crowns for guests. Even the local cideries and breweries came to support, pouring their most popular brews and not keeping a cent. None of them were. All the money that was used was going directly to donation for the Marien vineyard. Freya kept a close count of the donations to see if they would reach their goal, and Sophie carried around her phone with a livestream of the event for the followers. The comments kept blowing up with requests for Leo and Alana. But they were busy behind Marien’s booth, which was packed with guests wanting to taste wine, buy bottles, or simply donate in any shape or form they could.

Halfway through the first band’s set, Tess showed up with Cal. She was already wearing a flower crown and a form-fitting black dress. She squealed and threw her arms around Alana, then placed a spare flower crown on her head.

Tess carefully flicked at some of the wildflowers. “I threaded a couple from your backyard in here.” She winked. “We could use all the luck we can get tonight.”

Alana smiled. “Thank you.”

Tess peered around her. “Leo,” she greeted with a nod.

“Good to see you, Tess.”

She squinted at him. “You have looked at my best friend’s butt three times since I’ve stepped inside this tent.”

Alana glanced back at him and raised a brow.

His grin was sweet as he stepped up to her, placing a hand on her shoulders. Then he leaned his head around and tipped her chin up to him with a finger, planting a kiss on her lips.

“Oh!” Tess squealed. “Oh! Oh!!”