The Cowboy Imports a Bride(The Cowboys Of Chance Creek #3) (8 page)

She walked down the first long row of grapevines she reached, knowing that she would miss them, even if she didn't give Duncan another thought once she left Victoria. She knew these fields well, even if the bulk of her time was spent indoors. She didn't dislike overseeing the growth of the grapes; you couldn't be a vintner without a love of the fruit itself. But she far preferred the precision and science of the distillery. Duncan knew that, and he always tried to tear her away from the things she loved.

She figured he planned to get his revenge for last night's escape by marching her up and down the rows of perfectly developing grapes instead of letting her monitor the giant machinery that turned the humble fruit into the nectar of the gods.

He probably also wanted her out here to get time alone with her. Normally when they worked the fields, he took every opportunity to accidently brush by her, or take her hand to lead her, or wrap an arm about her as they surveyed the magnificence of the vines heavy with their fruit. Today he'd better not try any of those tricks.

Morgan pushed her heavy, dark hair away from her face. It was hot and dusty in the fields. She already felt sweat trickling down her back under the crisp material of her blouse.

"This could have been ours someday, you know," Duncan said, leaning in close. He touched her arm. "The old geezer won't last forever. I'll inherit everything. Whoever you're marrying doesn't have anything to compare to this."

"He's got plenty," Morgan said, moving away. "And it's morbid to wait around for your father to die."

He pursued her. "It's practical. You love this vineyard and you've been working here forever. Marry me and you'll own half of it."

"I'm engaged." She waggled her ring in his face. "So drop it already."

"Come off it, Morgan – you know you're trying to make me jealous…who the hell is that?"

She turned to look in the direction he was facing and saw a tall man making his way along the row of grapevines towards them. A tall man in a cowboy hat.

Her heart thrilled, then sank. She didn't want Rob
here
.

Rob stopped to play with the winery's two dogs that raced out to see who this stranger was. In an instant he had them frolicking and bounding like puppies and she felt the corner of her mouth turning up. Animals loved Rob and he loved them back – she'd seen that on the Cruz ranch. She envied his easy comfort with them.

"Do you know him?" Duncan demanded, already moving forward. Morgan hustled after him. Visitors weren't allowed to walk in the fields. No one was allowed in the fields without the express permission of one of the Cassidys.

"Yes – that's my fiancé. He's visiting from Montana. He must have gotten bored back at my apartment."

Duncan stopped in his tracks and she nearly walked into him. "You're serious, aren't you? You've got a fiancé? And you went out with me last night? How come you never mentioned him?"

"I didn't want to go out with you last night. You told me your father had called a meeting, remember?" She wasn't going to explain to him just how short a time she'd actually known Rob.

He got moving again, lengthening his strides until she practically had to run to keep up with him. They met Rob halfway down the row of grapes. Duncan stuck out his hand. "Hi – I'm Duncan Cassidy. My family owns this vineyard. Morgan says you’re her fiancé."

Rob looked from one to the other of them, and met Duncan's handshake. "That's right. I'm Rob Matheson."

Morgan wanted to hide her head in her hands. Dammit, why hadn't she told Rob he absolutely couldn't come here? If he got any whiff of the fact that Duncan had tried to kidnap her last night, she didn't know what he'd do. She'd seen him beat the crap out of one man – the guy who'd attacked her when she and Claire went after her stolen possessions. The result hadn't been pretty. If he did the same thing to Duncan, her reputation in the industry would be toast.

But Duncan's fake smile of greeting broadened. "Rob – so good to finally meet you. Morgan's talked about you non-stop since she got back from her vacation."

Rob's eyebrows shot up. "Really? What's she been saying?"

"Something about you Montana boys putting us Canadians to shame." Duncan laughed heartily and clapped Rob on the shoulder. Morgan truly wanted to sink into the ground. She'd never said any such thing. Rob would think she was bragging about him. "What do you think of our operation?"

Rob surveyed the field of grapes. "Haven't seen much of it. How old are these vines? Four or five years?"

Duncan seemed surprised by his interest. "Six years, actually. Do you grow your own?"

"Grapes in Montana? Now that you mention it, I'm not sure if they grow there." He glanced at Morgan, as if wondering if that might throw a kink in the works.

"Actually, they do. There are a couple of wineries in the state," Morgan put in, happy to reassure Rob about that fact, and even happier to keep the conversation on a safe track. If she could get Rob away from Duncan before he did any more damage…

"How about I give you a tour?" Duncan asked Rob.

Rob settled his hat in a more comfortable position on his head. "Well, I was hoping Morgan might be up to that task."

"Of course," she began, pushing past Duncan to stand in between them.

"Unfortunately, Morgan needs to return to the distillery," Duncan said, easily elbowing her away. "She's working, you know, and we're only getting the benefit of her know-how for a few more days. I suppose you're the reason she's leaving, eh? As the owner, I love showing guests around our operation. We'll start outside and work our way in."

"That's mighty friendly of you." Rob looked at Morgan and gave a little shrug, as if to say, "It's better than nothing."

"I really don't have any pressing tasks in the distillery," Morgan tried again.

"It's unusual to have guests drop by during work hours, Morgan," Duncan said in a steely voice that brooked no opposition. "It's lucky I'm here to take over as tour guide so you don't have to send him straight home again."

"It is lucky," Rob said, seeming to grasp the situation fully now. "The last thing I want is to get Morgan here in trouble. You can't blame a man for wanting to be close to his girl, though, can you?" Rob persisted, nudging Duncan. Morgan thought she might keel over and die right then and there.

"No. You definitely can't blame a man for that," Duncan said, shooting her a significant look. "Run along now, Morgan. Back to work. I'll take care of your friend, here."

She was sure he would.

CHAPTER SIX

As Rob watched Morgan walk away, he had the feeling he'd made a big mistake coming to the vineyard. He should have gone sight-seeing like she told him to, but alone in her apartment he'd felt like the walls were closing in.

Was he really ready for marriage and fatherhood? For starting a business and settling down? What if he failed? What if he screwed up with his kids?

He couldn't remember the last time he'd spent an entire day indoors, and within an hour he was pacing in circles around the living room. Morgan's bookcases caught his attention for a short time. Her interests ranged from horticulture to anthropology, art history to beekeeping, and everything in between. But when he tried to sit down and read, he soon found himself on his feet again. He supposed he could have gone for a walk, but the concrete sidewalks and crowded buildings didn't call him at all.

He wanted to be near Morgan. To touch her again. Needing to distract himself from that train of thought, he gestured to the grapes and asked Duncan, "How long has your family been in the business?"

"Three generations," Duncan said proudly. "My granddad bought this land. It's part of my blood."

"Like my ranch back home. The Mathesons have lived there since 1848," Rob said. "Feels strange to be away from it."

"So you and Morgan are getting hitched."

"Yep."

"Should have known there was someone in her life. Come on, let me show you around."

Rob thought he'd find the tour annoying, since he'd really come to see Morgan, but to his surprise he found it fascinating. At first Duncan seemed to want to talk more about Morgan than about the grapes, and Rob had the sneaking suspicion the man had the hots for her, but after he'd asked a few pointed questions about the rootstock, irrigation and the kinds of pests they had to deal with, Duncan launched into explanations and couldn't seem to stop talking. Rob imagined he rarely had an audience that was actually interested in the minutiae of growing such a finicky crop, but he'd spent enough time around his mother to know what questions to ask, and to process the information he received in return.

Most of the farmers he knew in Montana grew wheat. He'd never thought about the possibility of cultivating grapes. He itched to be back at Morgan's apartment, where he could look up the wineries she'd mentioned on the Internet and see if any were near to Chance Creek. Most likely not. He'd have heard of them, wouldn't he?

Of course, he and his friends drank beer and whiskey, not wine.

His parents had quite a cellar-full laid in, though. Maybe they knew more about it.

"You must need a lot of workers to tend these fields," he said. Duncan raised a hand to shade his eyes and scanned the rows of grapes.

"There." He pointed and Rob squinted against the glare. He saw a number of men bent over the plants some rows away. "Most of them come up from Mexico for the harvest."

"Migrant workers?"

Duncan shrugged. "A few of them have done such a good job we've hired them permanently. We were able to help them immigrate to Canada and become citizens. The rest come and go. Let's see how they're doing."

Rob hung back when they approached the men hard at work. They all wore baseball caps to protect their faces from the sun. A few had tucked towels under their hats to hang down over their necks for further protection. They needed cowboy hats, he decided. Maybe seeing his would give them the right idea.

"Raoul, Thomas, Eduardo, meet Rob Matheson. He's visiting Victoria and I'm giving him a tour of the winery. Raoul and Thomas work for us permanently. Eduardo here is new this year."

The men all murmured greetings. Thomas took Duncan aside and launched into a discussion about the grapes and the exact day he thought they would be ready to harvest. Raoul and Eduardo gazed at Rob expectantly. He searched for a way to carry on the conversation.

"Do you like it here?" he asked.

Both men shook their heads yes emphatically. "Living here is like living in paradise," Raoul said. "I can feed my family, house them, they have medical care."

"Only thing is," Eduardo said, his accent more pronounced than Raoul's, "the food." He shook his head. "Very bad."

Raoul laughed. "Not enough Mexican food in Victoria," he agreed. "We need more immigrants. Maybe your wife someday, eh?" he nudged Eduardo. "Eduardo hopes Mr. Cassidy will take him on permanently, too. Help him immigrate, like he did me." He turned to his friend. "You have to work, work, work! First here in the morning, last gone at night, like I did all those years." To Rob he said. "I proved I was the best vineyard worker. Mr. Cassidy couldn't bear to see me go."

"You have to take time off, though," Rob said. "Live a little. Have some fun, right?" That had always been his mantra, anyhow.

Raoul became stern. "Fun is for people like you, Mr. Matheson. People who have all they need already. Me and Eduardo, we work, work, work to survive. Fun is being alive another day."

"Fun is food to eat at night," Eduardo put in wryly.

Rob scratched the back of his neck. He always seemed to be saying or doing the wrong thing these days. "Do you like the work, at least?"

"Work is work," Raoul said. "But yes, I like the growing things. I like to see the grapes reach the harvest. My muscle," he patted his arms, "my sweat – it is turned into food right before my eyes!"

Rob smiled at that. He'd never thought of work that way – that sometimes the result of the labor could be so tangible. He supposed it was like that on the ranch, but since he only did a task here, a job there, he didn't take in the whole process.

And whose fault is that?

He shifted uncomfortably. It was his own damn fault, he knew that. He barely showed up for the small tasks his father and brothers set him. He sure as hell didn't work, work, work like Raoul was advising Eduardo to do. He'd never proved himself the best man for the job in any tangible way.

Was that because he was too busy bucking his family's hierarchy, and getting back at his brothers for their earlier misdeeds, or was it because ranching didn't interest him all that much?

And if he wasn't interested in ranching, what did he want to do?

He surveyed the fields around him again.

No, he wasn't a farmer, or vintner, or whatever you called it. His love was horses and the rodeo. No way you'd find him mucking about in fields.

Even if it did look interesting.

"Mind if I try?" he asked Raoul, not sure why he wanted to prune grapevines. Something about watching the other men thin the foliage made his fingers itch to grab a pair of shears and get to work, though. Maybe it was the way the vines looked refreshed afterward – like they could breathe better.

Raoul had explained that the grapes were ripening and becoming sweet. Cutting back the leaves to the perfect balance of fruit to foliage pushed this process forward. According to Raoul, that was highly desired.

Duncan, coming back to his side after finishing his conversation, raised his eyebrows when he saw what Rob was doing. "You want to work?"

"Sure. I've got nothing better to do. Still an hour until lunch time, right?"

Duncan looked at his watch. "Try two. You get bored, you come and find me; we'll finish that tour." But the man had a smirk on his face, probably thrilled to leave his rival toiling in the fields like one of the hired help. Rob didn't give that a second thought, though.

"Show me again which leaves to take off," he said to Raoul.