Awakened (Steel Brothers Saga #16) - Helen Hardt Page 0,1
her master’s in architecture. I’m an oenology doctoral candidate. Weird that we crossed paths at a wine lecture and hit it off, but we did. Diana was there because her uncle Ryan Steel was speaking. We ended up sitting next to each other, and after the lecture, she introduced us.
So here I am, on my way to Colorado for an internship at Steel Vineyards. For the next three months, I’ll experience every part of the winemaking process, from harvest to ageing and bottling.
I can’t wait.
Winemaking isn’t my chosen path. Wine tasting and selling is, but, as Diana pointed out, an internship at her family’s winery will give me valuable insight and perspectives on terroir and everything else about the process.
It will make me better at what I choose to do.
Plus, I’ll get to meet her handsome brothers and work hands-on beside one of them.
Dale Steel.
Even more handsome than his younger brother, although he’s never smiling in any of the photos Diana showed me.
Donny, on the other hand, is always smiling.
“You said Donny’s a womanizer,” I say.
“True. And he is. But he’s not for you.”
“Why not?”
“Ash, he’s my brother, okay? And you’re my friend. It just seems…weird.”
“Uh…I think you once told me that your mom was best friends with your aunt when she met your dad.”
“That’s…different.”
“How so?”
“My dad wasn’t a womanizer.”
“So? Your brother sleeps around. So do I.”
“You’re going to be here for three months,” she says. “Do you really want to sit around the table at our huge-ass family dinners after sleeping with my brother? He’s never serious. I doubt he’ll ever settle down.”
“Sounds perfect for me.” I smile.
“He lives in Denver.”
“Oh…right.” She told me that. Donny’s a lawyer with a Denver firm.
“You probably won’t even meet him until Thanksgiving, but we’ll still have our huge-ass family dinners without him.”
“When you say huge-ass family dinners…”
“I mean huge-ass family dinners. My aunts and uncles all live on the ranch, and most of my cousins still live nearby.”
“Just how many cousins do you have?”
“There’s the four of us, and then Bradley and Brock—they belong to Uncle Joe and Aunt Mel. Ava and Gina are Uncle Ryan and Aunt Ruby’s daughters. Then Henry, David, Angela, and Sage from Aunt Marj and Uncle Bryce.”
“And you seriously have family dinners? Do you rent a giant round table from King Arthur or something?”
“My parents live in the main house on the ranch,” she says. “The formal dining room is massive and accommodates all of us, plus significant others, if any of us bring them.”
“Unreal.”
Anyone studying wine has heard of the Steel Vineyards. Wines made in Colorado made a splash some decades ago, largely because of the Steels. Their original winemaker, a Brit named Ennis Ainsley, had taught Ryan Steel, who brought his own creative flair to winemaking. He’s a genius, and I’m going to learn everything I can from him. This is my only chance, as Diana says he’s retiring after this season.
“Have they ever had an intern before?”
“You’re the first,” Diana says. “Look around. We’re in Steel country now.”
I gaze out the car window. Vast greenery—the green that makes a trumpeting sound, like the fanfare of a glorious symphony—in every direction, and in the east, the majestic Rockies—the purple of the trombones and baritones—looking over all of it.
“It’s gorgeous,” I say.
“This is where you’ll spend the next three months, Ash. Enjoy.”
“Do you ever stop and look?” I ask. “Just gape in awe and wonder that you actually live here?”
“I guess. But it’s so normal to me.”
You have no idea how lucky you are.
I don’t say this out loud, of course. I haven’t known Diana long, but I do know she grew up extremely privileged. Not that she’s overly elitist or anything, but I think she takes this beauty for granted. To me—a girl who spent many years of her childhood in the tent cities of San Francisco—it’s absolute splendor.
We make some small talk, and an hour later, she turns into a long stony driveway.
“Home sweet home,” she says.
As we approach, a sprawling ranch house comes into view. All red brick, with a front deck that wraps around to the side.
“This is nothing,” she says, as if reading my mind. “Wait until you see the back.”
I’m speechless. At least the colors aren’t overly vibrant. I’d have to filter out the sounds, otherwise.
“You live here.”
“Guilty. And so do you for the next three months.”
“I’d ask if you’re sure you have room, but this house is massive.”
“We have plenty of room. Donny doesn’t live here anymore, though his