Page 76 of The Spare

“Grandpa!”

Still thoroughly in shock, I make the long, slow drive back up the gravel path to the main house. All the while, I can’t help but pout. Why is it that I’ve been married for months, and I’ve seen more of my grandpa’s naked body than my husband’s?

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sam

It’s been several weeks since the fire. Leaning back against the porch railing, I clutch my coffee mug as the cool morning air nips at my face. Across the yard, the scorched remnants of the lower barn stand as a dark, jagged reminder of how fragile everything is right now. But my mind isn’t on the fire.

It’s stuck on that night. Replaying it over and over on a constant loop. I can still feel the weight of Lexi’s body pressed against mine on the dancefloor, her fingers tangled in my hair. The breathtaking way she looked at me until that awful call from Old Man Morris came.

I replay every word and each lingering touch until the memory warms my chest more than this cup of joe. Everything around me is a landmine. The arson investigation, the mountain of financial problems waiting on my desk, and the ugly mess I’ve made of my relationship with Alexis over the years. It all feels like an impossible weight bearing down on me.

But as I stare out at the sun rising over the vineyards, a surprising feeling takes root in my gut. It’s similar to the sensation I had while I was seated amongst the charred ruins of the vineyard, talking to Pop.

It’s a small glimmer of hope.

After everything I did to her, she didn’t push me away. Alexis let me hold her. For the first time in years, she didn’t look at me like I was the lead actor in her worst nightmares. I have a hell of a long way to go to fix what I broke. But as long as that door remains open, I’m going to fight like hell for her.

I set my empty mug down on the porch railing, pulling my work gloves from my back pocket as I descend the wooden steps. The stench of scorched earth intensifies with every stride I take toward the back quadrant. Stopping at the perimeter tape the fire marshal put up when he was here, I rest my hands on my hips as I survey the damage.

My mind immediately starts running through the numbers. Sourcing replacement grapes this late in the season is going to cost a fortune. And I’m certain Brandy isn’t going to be feeling overly philanthropic. But the few contracts we have won’t wait for us to mourn a lost crop.

“Morning, boss,” Marcus greets, walking up beside me with a clipboard tucked under his arm and soot smudged across his forehead. He was the first phone call I made once Aaron Sterling confirmed the transfer of the trust funds had taken place. “The structural guys will be here by noon to start clearing the wreckage.”

“Thanks, Marcus. I’m relieved to have you back here.”

“It’s a bump in the road,” he says firmly, turning to look me in the eye. “Your grandpa had to deal with times like these. He did just like you.”

I arch a brow, curious to hear how this story plays out.

“He kept his chin up, gave thanks for the good and the bad that allowed him to stay rooted to this land, and then put one foot in front of the other until he could get things back on track.” Looking away so he doesn’t notice the impact of his words on my frayed emotions, I give him a hearty pat on the back.

He’s right. I need to tackle this one step at a time. The trust funds clear today. Every single creditor gets paid by nightfall, and then we secure new fruit contracts with The Naked Grape before the week is out.

“Sutter Creek isn’t going under. Not on my watch,” I put out into the universe.

Marcus nods.

I bend down, gripping a heavy piece of charred timber blocking the path, and haul it out of the way. The physical work is grueling, but the burn in my muscles is a welcome distraction from the heavy thoughts in my head. Sutter Creek might be battered, but as long as I’m standing, we’re going to rebuild every inch of it.

Suddenly, Shep’s truck appears over the horizon. He’s driving like a bat out of hell.

What the⁠—

Shep runs over, out of breath. His face is beet-red. “Sebastian’s been trying to get in touch with you,” he pants. “Where the fuck is your phone?”

I reach into my back pocket, pull out my phone, and tap the screen. Nothing. “Battery’s dead.” I frown as I return it to my pocket. “Why? What the hell’s going on?”

“We need to get to the hospital,” he blurts. “It’s Alexis.”

Panic slams into my chest as if he’d driven straight into me. “What happened?” I demand, rounding his truck toward the passenger door in two strides. Cold sweat breaks out along my spine. “You need to tell me right now.”

“Apparently, there was a kidnapping attempt at her hospital,” Shep stammers.

“What?” I roar so loud birds scatter from nearby tree branches. Suddenly, the world feels as if it’s twisting on its axis.

Kidnapping? What the hell is happening?