Page 72 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
She pours coffee for us both without asking, then leans on the bar. "So, Elena from California. You're here about the wine, Mabel tells me."
"That was my original purpose," I admit, conscious of Dominic beside me.
"And now?" Ruth's perceptiveness is almost uncanny.
"I'm still here about the wine," I reply carefully. "But with a better appreciation for the winemaker."
Ruth's laughteris rich and knowing. "I bet you are." She turns to Dominic. "I like this one. She doesn't bullshit around."
Dominic's ears redden slightly, but I catch the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Ruth was the first person to carry Silverleaf," he explains. "When it was still an experiment more likely to fail than succeed."
"Best bet I ever made," Ruth says proudly. "Now I can't keep it in stock. Had to implement a two-bottle limit per customer to keep the tourists from wiping me out every weekend."
As Ruth bustles away to check on something in the kitchen, I turn to Dominic. "She's exactly as you described."
"Terrifying yet impossible not to like?"
"Exactly." I smile, feeling some of the tension between us ease. "She reminds me of my grandmother. Equal parts warmth and tactical nuke."
When Ruth returns, she brings plates of what she calls "emergency lunch"—hearty stew and fresh bread that tastes like it came straight from Margie's bakery. As we eat, she regales me with stories of Dominic's early days in Angel's Peak.
"You should have seen him when he first arrived," she says, ignoring Dominic's pained expression. "Looking like he'd been through war, with plans for a vineyard that every local expert said was doomed to fail. Wouldn't talk to anyone, wouldn't accept help from anyone."
"Some things don't change," I observe, earning a mock glare from Dominic.
"Oh, he's practically a socialite now compared to then," Ruth continues, warming to her subject. "First winter, his pipes froze because he was too stubborn to let George Washington show him how to properly winterize the place. Found him in here half-frozen, too proud to admit he needed help."
Dominic stares fixedly at his stew. "Are you quitefinished embarrassing me?"
"Not even close, dear." Ruth pats his hand affectionately. "But I'll take a break to check on Jason. He's in the back taking inventory."
As she disappears into a storeroom, Dominic exhales dramatically.
"I warned you."
"I like her," I say honestly. "She sees right through you, and loves you anyway."
Something vulnerable flashes in his eyes at my choice of words, but before he can respond, Ruth returns with a tall man in his thirties. He moves with military precision, despite a slight limp; his posture straightens further when he sees Dominic.
"Jason," Dominic greets him, standing to shake his hand. "How's the inventory system working out?"
"Like a dream, boss." Jason's respect for Dominic is evident in every line of his body. "Those spreadsheets you designed save hours of manual counting."
"Jason helps me manage the bar when my arthritis acts up," Ruth explains for my benefit. "When he's not working up at Silverleaf during harvest season."
"Dominic gave me my first job when I got back from Afghanistan," Jason adds, his straightforward delivery making the significance even more powerful. "Nobody else would hire a guy with PTSD and a bum leg who couldn't guarantee he'd show up every day."
I glance at Dominic, who looks distinctly uncomfortable with the praise. "The vineyard needs seasonal help," he says, as if it were the most practical decision rather than an act of compassion. "Jason's methodical and doesn't waste time with small talk. Perfect employee."
Jason's smile suggests this is a familiar exchange between them. "Still, not everyone would take a chance on damaged goods."
"All of us are damaged," Dominic replies quietly. "Some scars are just more visible than others."
The simple truth in this statement resonates through the room, creating a moment of connection between these three very different people who've built something like family from shared understanding of pain.
As we prepare to leave, Ruth pulls me aside while Dominic settles their perpetual tab argument.
"He's different with you," she says without preamble. "More present. Less guarded."
