“Works for me,” Brock says. “I’m still hoping for a Scrabble game.”

I sigh. “My head wouldn’t be in it.”

Jade meets my gaze. “Hey. Listen to me. Dale is Dale. If you’re going to love him, you have to love him as he is.”

“I do.” It’s not a lie. Not even close. I love everything about Dale.

“But you want to help him,” Jade says.

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“God, yes. I’ve always wanted that. Still do. But finally—and I mean after decades—I’ve realized I can’t. Dale needs to help himself first. That’s why he spends so much time in the vineyards, and sometimes in the mountains. It helps him where others can’t. He finds something there.”

I nod. “I know. I’ve tried to find it too.”

“Ashley, I understand you so well. There were times when Dale was a young adult that I walked among those vines searching for what he sees. Searching, so that I could be the one to give him what he needed.”

How well I understood what she felt during those times. “And did you find anything?”

She shakes her head. “I found the beauty that he sees. I found the solace. But I didn’t find anything I could do to take the place of what he finds there, if that makes any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” I say softly.

“I’ve got a great idea,” Jade says.

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t the two of you come over to the main house? Darla’s making swiss steak, and you know she makes enough to feed an army. Talon and I can’t possibly eat it all. We’ll open up a bottle of wine and think about the good things.”

“Darla’s swiss steak?” Brock says. “Count me in.”

I nod. “Thank you, Jade. I’d like that too.”

She touches my forearm lightly. “He’ll be okay. Believe in him. If you love him, that’s what he needs.”

Dinner is far from lively, but it’s still enjoyable. Even Brock, who’s usually the life of the party, is subdued. Darla clears our plates when Talon’s phone rings.

“Sorry,” he says. “It’s Ryan. I don’t normally interrupt dinner, but it could be news about the fires.”

“Take it,” Jade says. “We’re done anyway.”

“Hey, Ry,” Talon says into the phone.

Pause.

Then his face goes white.

No.

No, no, no.

Not Dale. Not my Dale.

Talon nods. “I see.” He ends the call.

My hand flies to my mouth.

“Ashley…” Jade says softly.

“Dale is fine,” Talon says. “He’s on his way home. They’re walking along Henderson Creek, so it will take some time. He should be home tomorrow.”

Jade and I both let out a breath. Apparently we were both thinking the same thing.

“What is it then?” Brock asks.

“It’s the vineyards,” Talon says. “Before they got the fire contained, it took out the northern half of the Syrah.”

Chapter Seven

Dale

“Fire’s contained,” Johnson says to me.

“Good.”

We’re still twelve miles outside Steel property. We definitely took the long route, and I’m tired as a workhorse after a fifteen-hour day.

“I think we bunk here for the night,” Johnson goes on. “The air is better here, and the wind is blowing the smoke and ash to the south. We’re good.”

Is he serious? “Suit yourself. I’m heading back. If I make pace, it’s only a few hours until I hit my property. I’ve been watching the smoke, and it was way too damned close to my vines. I won’t rest until I know they got through this unscathed.”

“Your family is paying me to keep you safe.”

“You’ll get paid. And I’ll stay safe.”

“I can’t guarantee your safety if you don’t stay with me.”

“Then I will personally pay you, since you seem to be so worried about income.”

“Fuck off, Steel,” Johnson says. “Not all of us are millionaires.”

Billionaires, but whatever. I keep walking.

“For Christ’s sake,” Johnson mumbles. But he follows me.

I won’t be stopping until I get where I’m going.

And where I’m going is my vineyards.

Ashley is safe at home.

But the vineyards…

They’re not safe.

I already know it.

I’m just trying not to think about it so I can keep moving.

Inside my head, I’ve buried so much. Trudging along—using all my energy physically just to move forward—has kept my brain occupied so I haven’t thought about my birth father and his shocking deathbed revelation.

I’ll deal with it later.

Tomorrow, as I’ve heard Ashley say. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

I take a step. I take another, and then another.

Each step takes me closer to home.

Closer to my vineyards.

Closer to Ashley.

No.

Just no.

Numbness coats every nerve in my body.

“Let’s go,” Johnson prods.

I fall to the ground in front of the blackness illuminated only by the starlight above me.

My Syrah.

Such a large part of my Syrah.

Gone.

And I feel nothing.

Not a damned thing.

How can this be?

How can it be when all I’ve done is feel lately? Ever since I fell in love with Ashley and let everything dormant inside me loose?

“I’m on Steel property,” I say robotically. “Your job is done. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Steel,” he says, “you’re lucky. Colorado Pike lost a lot more.”

Colorado Pike lost a lot more.

I should feel bad. It’s a shame. The Pikes are our neighbors to the north. Good people. It sucks for them. I know this, and I should feel for them.

But I feel nothing.

Not a damned thing.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I say once more.

He sighs and shakes his head. “Glad I could save your ass. Maybe you shouldn’t be such a fucking dick.”