Page 90 of Snowbound with the Vineyard Owner
Whispers follow their progress through the room: "Is that Dominic Mercer? From the Napa fire?" "I heard he'd gone completely off-grid." "That's Eleanor Morgan with him—didn't she sell her vineyard years ago?" "The dog is actually allowed in here?"
Dominic's eyes find mine across the crowded space, and everything else fades to background noise. In that moment of connection, three weeks of separation collapse into nothing. He moves purposefully in my direction, his entourage creating a protective buffer against the curious onlookers and former colleagues who clearly want to approach.
"You came," I say when he reaches me. The inadequate words are all I can manage past the emotion tightening my throat.
"I said I would." His voice is steady, but tension bunches in the muscles of his shoulders.
"With reinforcements," I observe, nodding toward his companions.
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "They insisted. Something about not trusting me to follow through without supervision."
"He needed moral support," Ruth interjects, giving me a quick hug. "And we weren't about to miss his triumphant return to civilization."
"Or the chance to meet the woman who accomplished what the rest of us couldn't," Eleanor adds with her characteristic directness. "Getting this stubborn man to rejoin the world of the living."
Before I can respond, a festival coordinator approaches, nervously eyeing Merlot. "Mr. Mercer? The Rising Star judging panel is convening. Ms. Santiago is scheduled to present your wines, but they've requested your presence."
Dominic tenses visibly, with an impulse to refuse flashing across his face. His hand drops to Merlot's head, seeking the comfort of connection as he faces this first major test of his resolve.
"We'll be right there," I answer for both of us, my hand finding his in a gesture of solidarity. To my relief, his fingers intertwine with mine, accepting the support.
Ruth winks at me as they move toward the judges' room, Hunter Morgan falling into step beside us.
"I've been singing your praises to anyone who'll listen," Hunter tells Dominic. "The vertical tasting you sent me was extraordinary—especially that experimental varietal. Completely transforms my understanding of what's possible at high altitude."
The praise seems to ground Dominic, shifting his focus from social anxiety to the work that has always been his refuge. By the time we enter the judges' room, some of his tension has eased, replaced by the quiet confidence he displays when discussing his vineyard.
The presentation unfolds better than I could have hoped. I introduce Silverleaf's philosophy and approach, emphasizing the innovative techniques Dominic has developed specifically for high-altitude viticulture. When I describe his experimental hybridization program, designed to create varietals that thrive in challenging mountainconditions while producing wines of exceptional complexity, the judges lean forward with genuine interest.
Then Dominic speaks, his deep voice steady as he explains the science behind his methods. His natural reserve reads as thoughtful expertise in this context, his passion for the work shining through technical explanations that might sound dry from anyone else. When he mentions "my colleague Elena Santiago's insights regarding acid balance in high-elevation grapes," the unexpected credit in a public forum warms me more than any private compliment could have.
The judges' questions reveal increasing enthusiasm for Silverleaf’s innovations, especially regarding climate change issues impacting traditional growing regions. Catherine Halsey stands at the back of the room, observing our professional interaction with calculated interest.
After the presentation, Dominic and I browse the festival together, his hand occasionally brushing mine as we move between tastings and panels. His Angel's Peak support team creates strategic diversions whenever former Napa associates attempt to corner him with uncomfortable questions about the fire or his father's legacy.
"You're handling this beautifully," I tell him during a rare quiet moment. "How does it feel?"
He considers the question with characteristic thoroughness. "Like wearing clothes that used to fit perfectly, then didn't for a long time, and now fit differently but not necessarily worse."
The precise analogy is so perfectly Dominic that I laugh, drawing curious glances from nearby attendees. "That's the most accurate description of returning to an old life I've ever heard."
His smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners in the way that never fails to make my heart skip. "It helps having the right companion for the journey."
Before I can respond to this loaded statement, Catherine appears with a gleam of opportunity in her eyes.
"Elena, Mr. Mercer. Impressive presentation." She extends her hand to Dominic. "Catherine Halsey, Senior Partner at Heritage Restaurant Group. I've been watching your interaction with considerable interest."
Dominic shakes her hand, wariness evident beneath his professional courtesy. "Ms. Halsey. Elena speaks highly of your business acumen."
"I'd like to discuss a proposal with you both," Catherine continues without preamble. "Heritage is considering a destination dining concept focusing on climate-adaptive wines and regional cuisine. Your experimental program could be the centerpiece of our inaugural location."
"I wasn't aware Heritage was expanding into destination concepts," I say, professional interest piqued despite my surprise.
"We weren't, until I observed what you two have created." Catherine's gaze is shrewd. "The technical innovation is impressive, but your collaborative approach caught my attention. Elena's market understanding and Mr. Mercer’s viticultural vision create something unique in the industry."
Dominic and I exchange glances, the silent communication we've developed allowing an entire conversation to pass between us in seconds.
"We'd be interested in hearing more," Dominic says carefully, "though Silverleaf remains my primary focus."
