Kate's Heart

By Leigh Barrett

"He doesn't look like a grape, so why would you pay attention to his face?" Kate's best friend jokes (sort of).

The family vineyard nestles on the gentle slopes of Oregon's Willamette Valley, and Kate's only goal is to be the best winemaker she can be. Nothing is more important than nursing her vines—until her dream is shattered by her patriarchal uncle prescribing a future that sets her on a course nobody expected.

The Uncle's final demand sets her on a course to save her family's legacy—and her own independence.

 

Kate is a modern woman: sometimes vulnerable and often funny. Follow her journey as it parallels the development of her Pinot Noir grapes, accompanied by her rescue horses and a dog with a penchant for eating, and rolling in, anything stinky.

 

The Uncle should never have bet against her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leigh Barrett
• Release date: Jun 27, 2024
• ISBN: 9780796178947

Book preview

Table of Contents

Kate's Heart

| 1 | | Planting

| 2 | | Dormancy

| 3 | | Bud Break

| 4 | | Girdling

| 5 | | Veraison

| 6 | | Yielding

| 7 | | Maturing

| 8 | | Harvest

| 9 | | Mold

| 10 | | Pruning

| 11 | | Flowering

| 12 | | Fining

Acknowledgements

Sneak Peek:

About the Author

KATE’S HEART

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Leigh Barrett

♥ ♥ ♥

Kate’s Heart

First published © 2021. All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-0-7961-7894-7 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-0-7961-7893-0 (print)

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Cover graphic by: Marilize Roos

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www.marilizeroosromance.co.za

Published by Perspective Publications

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Also by Leigh Barrett

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ISLANDS OF THE BLESSED

Read a sample after you’ve enjoyed ‘Kate’s Heart’.

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Authors depend on, and deeply appreciate, your feedback.

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1 - Planting

2 - Dormancy

3 - Bud Break

4 - Girdling

5 - Veraison

6 - Yielding

7 - Maturing

8 - Harvest

9 - Mold

10 - Pruning

11 - Flowering

12 - Fining

Acknowledgements

Sneak Peek: Islands of the Blessed

About the Author

| 1 |

Planting

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Vic towered in the doorway. Gasping for breath, he fought to calm his racing heart. The distance from the elevator to the attorney’s office was further than his ailing body could handle with any degree of comfort.

Mr. Zwerginsky will be with you in a minute. The receptionist smiled just as the buzzer sounded and she stood with a rustle of skirt, ushering him into the attorney’s office.

Would you like some— He waved her away with a flourish of his hand that came too close and she ducked before it connected with her head. The small man behind the desk rose, buttoning his jacket, and nodded to her. She closed the door behind her, blowing out a relieved breath as she made her way back to her desk.

M-Mr. Harlow.

Ignoring the attorney’s outstretched hand, Vic tracked muddy footprints across the carpet before dropping into a chair.

My will. His voice reverberated across the office, and Jacob felt a heat of nervousness rising over his collar.

Y-Y-Yes, of course, he sweated, reaching for his yellow legal pad. Please go ahead and I’ll get it prepared for you.

He fumbled in his pocket with one hand for his handkerchief as Vic dictated the terms, mopping his brow despite the coolness in the air. Vic barely noticed him as he spoke, his eyes flicking across the room. The gray-blue walls contrasted well with the green that reminded him of his young grapes. He squinted at the qualifications that hung on the wall, nodding approval as he saw the certificate from the local university. Not that it mattered. He was here for one purpose: settling the future of his vineyard after his death. He ground down on his teeth to stop the groan of discomfort escaping his lips. He resented having to drive the half-hour into Eugene to do this. The inconvenience gave his blood pressure every reason to spike, and the foot of snow that covered the valley had made its way into his bones. He felt every day of his age.

Jacob’s thick glasses misted as he studied the man sitting in front of him, a mixture of confusion and alarm filling him as he copied the words onto his notepad. He peered over the rims at the blurred figure, trying to prevent his thoughts from showing on his face. It would be a short, simple document that was profoundly concerning.

M-Mr. Harlow, he stuttered.

Vic. The volume of his voice drowned out the semblance of informality offered in the single word.

Th-Thank you, Vic. I-I’m a little concerned about your stipulation that— he continued, nervousness making his voice tremble. He regretted wiping his forehead as his client’s gaze pierced him.

I’m not paying you to be concerned.

Jacob nodded. Certainly true. How-However, this is an alarming demand and I’m not sure it—

Vic held up an enormous hand to stop him. I don’t need your opinion. It’s my farm. I intend to guarantee that its success continues after I’m gone.

Well, yes, I-I understand. Jacob’s eyes watered a little. He was well aware of his client’s reputation. Most people in the region were either intimidated by him or hated him. He didn’t leave any other choices.

However, he continued, peering at his scrawled notes and wondering whether a drunken spider had crawled across the paper and written what appeared to be a truly bad idea. He took a deep breath. However, this clause is unusual.

Vic snorted, rising to his feet. He loomed over the desk and Jacob stood, wiping his clammy hand on his trousers before offering it. Vic’s eyes lowered to it slowly, and paused before engulfing it in his, making Jacob wince before he could stop himself. His miserable eyesight prevented him from seeing the glimmer of humor that flashed over Vic’s eyes. As the man left his office, Jacob sank into his chair with a sigh of relief and reached for the bottle in his drawer.

The sidewalks were lined with banks of snow, making Vic’s rubber-soled farm boots slip a little as he climbed into the truck. The road through town had been cleared and salted, but the cold still set patches of moisture into slippery ice. The heavy snow on the Valley floor was rare and locals were unaccustomed to driving in the stuff. He drove across town, pausing at every intersection, watching for any out-of-control car that would slide through, unable to brake. Relief settled in when he reached Oregon Route 126, taking advantage of the dearth of vehicles to drive a little faster, slowing at the bridges to account for any of the invisible black ice that may have formed. Even blanketed in snow, the countryside was beautiful, but a lifetime in the area had all but disappeared it from his view. His attention was always, as ever, focused on his farm. 

His first action after he had inherited it from his father had been to convert the land from grain crops and nuts into a vineyard, taking advantage of the higher elevation and the south-facing slopes. He had proven to be a natural vintner, producing the finest Pinot Noir wine possible, and that achievement had placed him in the pantheons of great winemakers. His next step was to guarantee the success of his farm after he left this world.

The rapid expansion of Oregon Wine Country, with over 500 wineries, could have led to fierce competition and a struggle for survival. Instead, a strong camaraderie between winegrowers developed as they shared experiences and knowledge, enthusiastically supporting every pioneering innovation. Vic had never taken the time to forge relationships with his neighbors. They respected him but seemed to prefer to deal with his niece. She had forced her way into the business of the farm and he grudgingly accepted her presence. If he had to work with her, at least he could push her in the direction of dealing with the aspects that lacked interest for him. Surprisingly, for a woman, she had even shown some enthusiasm for the business. There was time to train someone to take over from him—and he knew exactly who he wanted.

He turned onto the driveway to the house, slowing to look over his vines. The plants looked dead, standing stark against the glowing white. The silence that fell with the snow over the vineyard was not much of a threat to the vines in their dormant state. Besides, it would melt over the next few days, soaking the ground and feeding the vines long before spring arrived.

As he passed the field where some horses kicked aside the snow to graze, the white stallion looked up, breaking into a trot alongside the truck. The meeting in Eugene had interrupted their morning ride through the vineyard, and he knew the horse would expect some kind of attention now. Loose gravel spat up around the truck as he pulled to a stop outside the cellar.

Ah, good, he muttered under his breath. His niece stood in conversation with the bottling contractor, leaning casually against the bottling van. Vic pulled himself out of the truck, slamming the door, and trudged over to them. He paid little attention to Kate as she moved away, standing to one side.

Phil, he boomed. Phil ambled over, smiling, his hand outstretched.

Hey, Vic. Ready to do this?

Vic nodded, shooting a sideways glance toward Kate. She had stepped up this year as his energy seeped from him, forcing him to hand over much of the finishing to her. It was a temporary move while he was indisposed, and the risk he had taken with her had put the entire business in jeopardy. The nervous fluttering in his gut as he walked toward the cellar was a novel emotion for him.

The teams of workers and interns gathered, waiting in anticipation for their first taste of the vintage. His brother-in-law walked in with Kate. The small blonde woman with ridiculous fingernails, whose name he never remembered, joined them.

So, let’s see what Kate’s efforts delivered and whether it’s worth drinking. Or bottling, he winked at Phil. Phil’s eyes went to Kate, standing between her father and her best friend, seeing her flush with anger, and his heart went out to her. Jen squeezed her hand.

Asshole, she muttered under her breath. Kate’s lips set in a tight smile.

Vic reached for the bottle, opened it with a flourish, and poured small amounts into each glass. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone sniff. They watched, breaths held, stomachs tight, as he picked up the glass. Aware that every eye focused on him, he slowly lifted it to the light that streamed into the cellar, swirling it to see the brightness of the snow glint through the translucent ruby. He bent his nose to the liquid, breathing it in, the berry and earth tones lifting up to him, keeping his face down a little longer than necessary. The first breath made it clear: this wine was superb.

He straightened, feeling a frisson run through him as he absorbed the silent tension of the room, and raised the glass to his lips. The liquid swirled around his mouth and he sucked in a tiny amount of air through his teeth, tasting the concentration alter slightly on his tongue.

Brian grasped Kate’s hand, not taking his eyes off his late wife’s brother. Everything hinged on this moment. If the wine wasn’t up to Vic’s impossibly high standards, it would confirm every negative opinion he had about Kate’s ability to make wine. His daughter had worked with an admirable fierceness, never accepting her uncle’s oppressive and hateful ways, never falling to his demeaning insults, and never wavering in her dedication to making the best wine she could.

The velvety smoothness trickled down Vic’s throat and his eyes brightened. At that moment, he caught Brian’s eye. The man stood, his face without expression, and Vic felt a flush of annoyance at his studious blankness. On any other day, he would try to turn that deadpan face into something, anything but that stare. But, just for today, Vic bit his tongue and allowed the flavor of the wine to hold his attention.

As Brian watched, not daring to breathe, his heart in his throat, knowing how important the day was, he saw the look in Vic’s eyes as he sipped. It felt like his heart was going to explode. She had done it! Vic had set her up to fail and his beautiful girl had risen to the challenge, intent on proving him wrong. He squeezed her hand and felt the unmoving stiffness in hers.

Kate watched for any sign that the ogre was pleased with her work. She closed her eyes for a moment, controlling her breathing, keeping herself calm, before opening them to find him looking directly at her. As their eyes met, he gave a small nod before turning to hand out the glasses. 

Brian turned and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

You did it, sweetheart! he whispered.

Vic handed her a glass, walking away without meeting her eyes. Her fingers curled around the stem, feeling the coolness of the wine against her skin. She sipped, savoring the smoothness she had worked so hard to perfect.

She couldn’t talk.

She had received a nod.

It meant everything.

That one small moment of approval for seven years of hard labor.

Vic turned, walking from the cellar, taking with him the tension that had filled the room.

Whoa! cried Jen. This is amazing!

Kate laughed then, her body releasing the stiffness she barely knew she’d been holding, her smile stretching to a grin. Her family and friends whooped and hollered as if she’d won the Nobel Prize. Jen held out her arms to her and Kate walked into her best friend’s embrace.

Brian reached for his phone and tapped in a number.

Kate? Here, he held out the phone to her. Your brother wants to talk to you.

Jeff? You should be here!

I wish I was, sis, her younger brother’s warmth poured over her. I’m so proud of you. How’s The Uncle about this?

He gave me a nod, she giggled.

She heard Jeff chuckle. That’s probably more than one can expect from the asshole.

Right? she snorted. I’m just really glad it tastes good. Can you imagine if it hadn’t?

No shit. You’d have had to go and find a real job!

She laughed. Fuck you!

Kate held the phone out to Jen. Here, talk to your brother from another mother.

As they chatted, Kate stood with her arm around her father, looking out the cellar door to see Vic on the stallion’s back, plodding toward the vineyard.

Looks like Bonnie Boy is getting his ride today, after all, she muttered.

Brian turned. How he carries that weight is beyond me.

Kate nodded. Poor horse. He deserves to retire without some giant turd constantly on his back.

Brian smiled sympathetically before turning back to her. You’ve done such an outstanding job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.

Thanks, dad. I don’t want to brag, but I think it is our best ever. How was the acidity?

No heartburn alert! Brian grinned.

The celebration broke up as the bottle emptied and the workers filtered out with last calls of congratulations. As Kate approached, Phil spoke before she could.

Fantastic job, Kate. That is some superb wine.

She smiled her thanks. Not bad for my first attempt—under supervision, of course, she laughed.

Nonsense, he smiled. I remember your first small batch from five years ago. You are gifted. You don’t need any supervision and today proved that. How do you think he— he nodded in Vic’s general direction, is going to handle the new usurper to his throne?

Kate grinned. I’m seriously going to have to give some thought as to whether I care. Phil gave a snort and patted her on the back as they headed out to his truck to start bottling.

Brian looked at Jen. Coffee?

Yep, she said, looping her hand through his arm.

He grinned at her. I need it after holding my breath in there. I thought I was going to pass out!

You weren’t the only one.

He makes everything so challenging. Anyway, you need to make me some of your excellent coffee.

He’d been telling her she made the best coffee since she was tall enough to