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Thankfully, the fire department jumps on board, containing the flames much quicker. We continue to work in frantic synchronization, fighting with everything we have to save the grapes and the land. I refuse to believe after everything Lexi and I have done to pull Sutter Creek from the brink, this could be what bankrupts us.

After forty agonizing minutes of backbreaking labor, the roaring crackle of burning wood dies down into a suffocating hiss. White steam rises from the blackened remains of the back quadrant.

I drop an empty extinguisher onto the mud, bending over with my hands on my knees as I gasp for clean air. Choking on an inhale, I expel black mucus from my lungs. My clothes smell like burned ash, and my hands are caked in soot. I only hope my forearms don’t end up with second-degree burns from the heat.

“Is it out?” Shep pants, leaning heavily against a fence post, his face streaked with grime.

“I think so,” his old man wheezes, dropping his hose with a wet thud. “I think it’s out. Smoldering, but out.”

One of the firefighters advises that they will be staying for a long while to ensure it’s completely contained.

Standing up slowly, I wipe sweat from my eyes. Looking down at the blackened, ruined vines, my heart sinks. This entire quadrant is completely destroyed. There’s nothing left but charred wood, the fragmented remains of the trellis system, and ruined soil.

Then my eyes catch something near the edge of the tree line. It glints in the moonlight. I freeze, my brows drawing together as I step past the steaming debris toward the fence. Right at the base of a charred oak tree, tucked just out of sight of the main path, sits a crumpled, soot-stained metal canister.

It’s an accelerant can.

A lethal silence replaces the rushing adrenaline in my veins. I knew it. This was no freak accident. This wasn’t because of dry brush or some rogue spark.

Someone set my vineyard on fire.

I kick a piece of charred wood with the toe of my boot, watching a small cloud of ash rise into the humid morning air.

Chief Powell from the local fire department stands beside the Hanover Sheriff, his clipboard in hand as he stares down at the soot-stained metal canister I spotted in the brush.

“You were right, Sam. It’s an accelerant. No doubt about it,” Chief Powell confirms, tapping his pen against the board. “Someone lit this back row deliberately. Do you have any idea who’d want to do something like this?”

Shep and Old Man Morris stand nearby, leaning against the utility rig. Their faces are still streaked with black soot.

I run a dirty hand over my jaw. “I saw a guy walking along the shoulder of the road near the estate gates a couple of nights ago. He was wearing a dark hoodie and carrying a heavy black backpack. I assumed he was someone from the homeless population around town. But what the hell kind of motive would he have? Setting a vineyard on fire doesn’t get a guy a warm bed or a hot meal.”

“No. But we’ve found there’s often no understanding the motives for arson. Sure, some of it is monetary. Attempting to file an insurance claim. And honestly, we will still have to investigate every angle. But I’ve known you and your pop for a long time. Even if you didn’t see a way out financially, I wouldn’t imagine you’d risk tarnishing his name by pulling a stunt like that.”

“God no. I’ve been busting my balls to turn this place around. It’s about more than money. This was my grandfather’s pride and joy. His legacy. The last thing I’d want is to ruin years of hard work. I mean, we’ve lost all of those grapes.” I shake my head, disgusted.

“There could be a number of reasons why someone would do this. The main ones beyond a financial settlement with the insurance company are vandalism, thrill-seeking, concealing a crime, and revenge.”

My eyes connect with Shep’s.

“Any one of those a possibility?” Powell asks, looking up from his paper.

Headlights brighten in the distance.

“Any local rivalries? Anyone been on your radar lately?” Sheriff Dean asks.

“My mother,” I answer flatly, my voice laced with bitterness. “She’s been trying to force me to sell to a commercial developer. I guess we should find out which developer she was colluding with. They probably need to be cleared as well.” Glancing up, I find Sebastian carefully crossing from where he must have pulled up in one of the company trucks.

“Hey, little brother. Lexi asked Rosario to let me know what happened. I think she was worried about you.”

My forehead creases, knowing I’ve left her feeling anxious back at the house. I’ll try to call her and give her an update shortly.

“Sam was filling us in on potential suspects,” Sheriff Dean says.

“Suspects? It was arson?”

“I found a gas can.” I point over to the tree line.

“Shit.”