Page 21 of A Vintage of Regret
She ended the call, stuffed her cell back in her pocket, and continued down the driveway.
Bryson stood on the front porch with a coffee mug in one hand, leaning against the railing, looking like he was as much a part of the vineyard as it was of him. His mother, Brea, sat in a rocking chair, her silver-streaked hair twisted into a loose knot and her gaze fixed fondly on Bryson as he spoke.
Walter—tall and trim in a worn flannel shirt—sat beside her with a newspaper folded across his knee, smiling that broad, proud grin of his.
Ashley and Hasley were barefoot, one in jeans and the other in a long, flowing skirt, curled up on the steps with a shared bowl of cut fruit, while Devon, the oldest child, stood near Bryson, tablet in one hand, mug in the other, nodding at whatever Bryson had been discussing.
It was the kind of scene she’d spent her whole childhood aching for, then twelve more years pretending she didn’t miss.
Bryson saw her first. He straightened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he lifted a hand. “Good morning.”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Riley scurried closer.
“You’re not interrupting,” Brea called, standing now, arms already open.
Riley hesitated—just a second—then stepped into the hug. It felt both strange and natural at the same time.
“Oh, honey,” Brea whispered, pulling back to cup her face. “I’m so sorry about your father. He was such a kind and gentle man. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call us.”
“Thank you,” Riley said, voice rough.
Walter’s expression was sober but kind. “It’s good to see you again, Riley, though I’m sad it’s under these circumstances.”
“It’s good to see you as well, Mr. Boone.” She let out a slow breath, desperately trying to keep the swell of emotion from unraveling.
“Walter,” he corrected. “You stopped needing permission for first names a long time ago.”
Ashley jumped to her feet and didn’t hesitate before wrapping her arms around Riley. “Welcome back,” she whispered. “We’re all so devastated about your dad. He was so sweet, and we adored him. If you ever want to talk, we’re always here.”
“What she said.” Hasley inched closer—her turn for a hug.
It was all so overwhelming, certainly not what Riley was used to anymore, and yet, exactly what she needed.
“Words can’t express how deeply saddened we all are over your dad’s passing.” Devon rested his tablet on the railing, kissed her cheek, and squeezed her shoulder.
Tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she set foot in this town, but this wasn’t it. She knew the Boones wouldn’t have been anything other than kind. But their loving attitude wrapped around her like a protective blanket, all warm and soft, and it was all more than she could bear.
Ashley grinned. “We were just about to head inside for breakfast.”
“You should join us, dear,” Brea said.
“And we won’t take no for an answer,” Walter added.
“I’ve got to get going.” Riley swallowed the thick lump that formed in the center of her throat. As a kid, it felt like she’d spentmore time in this house than at home. The Boones had been like a second family.
“Have you eaten?” Bryson asked.
“I can grab a bagel in town or something,” she said.
“Elsa has cooked a huge spread.” Her mother rose with the grace of a princess. She’d always had a certain flair and style but was so down-to-earth. “Bryson, Devon, and their father have already made their morning rounds through the vineyard, and breakfast is about to be put on the table. It’ll take less time than stopping at the bakery.”
“Come on.” Hasley looped her arm through hers. “Coffee’s fresh. So are the waffles.”
Reluctantly—though it didn’t quite feel like reluctance, not really—Riley followed the family inside.
She meandered through the massive foyer, down the hallway that seemed to stretch on for the full length of a football field, and into the big kitchen, trying not to let the ghosts of the past fill her brain, no matter how magical some of those memories could be.
She sat down at the big butcher block island and took the cup Bryson handed her. The warmth seeped into her hands as the smells of maple syrup, butter, and dark roast coffee surrounded her.
