Piper woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and ready to enjoy a full day of wine education. She showered and dressed in something a little more casual than what she'd worn the day before (Colton had warned them to dress comfortably as they'd walk through the vineyards with the potential to soil their clothing.) She made a cup of coffee in the room and opened the curtains to enjoy the early morning view. Although her room didn't face East, the sunlight poured onto the vines and gave her the most majestic view of the green, yellow and red leaves, dripping with dew. She could see bunches of grapes hanging on branches that looked ready to break. The view looked like a painting hanging in an art gallery, only she was right there in the middle of it and about to experience wine tasting during the height of harvest. She sipped her coffee as she watched three workers walk down one of the rows, each carrying a piece of equipment. Two of them splintered off, and Piper realized that the one in the middle was the woman she'd seen the day before.
She set her coffee down and opened the window as if that would somehow give her a clearer view of the woman below. The window made an obnoxious screech, causing the woman in the field to look up. The cowboy hat that had dangled around her neck the day before was now securely on her head, and she had on jeans and a red flannel shirt. The woman squinted and gave her a tight-lipped smile, and Piper raised her hand in a wave. She wanted to yell something—What's your name? Who are you? Why are you at the winery? But her voice was trapped in her throat. Good thing too, because when she heard one of the workers call something to the other, Piper realized that voices carried in the wide-open space.
Piper was determined to meet the other woman to at least learn why she seemed to always be around, so she grabbed her room key and scurried downstairs. Piper had read that the inn offered a package which allowed guests to experience "a day in the life" of a winemaker, and she wondered if that was what the mysterious woman had signed up for. The other workers that she'd seen the day before were all men, except for Cecelia, so perhaps this woman was a guest who wanted to get her hands dirty and learn about wine making from the soil to the bottle.
Piper flung the front door open and twisted her neck from left to right as she looked for the woman in the field. Once she got her bearings, she realized she was looking in the wrong direction—she needed to be on the south side of the property, so she turned the corner and headed the other way.
"Hey, what are you doing out here so early?" Colton appeared out of nowhere.
"Hi, I…um…" She fidgeted with her hands. "I wanted to see the vines in the early morning light."
"Beautiful, isn't it? Don't let me keep you." He gazed into the distance, and then back at Piper. "Oh, by the way, I just saw Felix, so you'll be able to meet him today." He flashed his perfect smile, and Piper could understand why Camila and Layla were so attracted to the attractive young man.
"Great, thank you." She'd been so curious to learn more about the woman in the field that she'd forgotten how excited she'd been to meet the legendary winemaker, Felix Whitaker.
By the time Piper made it to the southern part of the property, the woman had vanished and she felt deflated. Four men were tending to the vines and talking in Spanish. A part of her wanted to ask them if they knew who the woman was, but her Spanish was rusty, and she didn't want to assume they spoke English, so she let out a long sigh and made her way back to the inn.
Piper and her friends enjoyed pancakes, sausage and freshly squeezed orange juice on the patio and discussed their options for the day. All of them were in agreement about spending the day at Harlan Hurst, touring the vineyard and learning how their wine was made. That evening was the kickoff to Crush Weekend in Red Mountain, and they planned to go to the barbeque at nearby Hedges Family Estate.
As Piper waited for her friends to freshen up after breakfast, she spotted a lone rocking chair facing the now fully risen sun. She plopped into the chair and shuffled through the magazine options on the side table: Decanter, Wine Enthusiast and Food & Wine. She'd never heard of Decanter before, so she picked it up and began flipping through the publication, enjoying the feel of sunshine on her face and the cool breeze that wafted by every couple of minutes. There was a three-page spread about up-and-coming winemakers in Eastern Washington, which caught her eye. On the first two pages, she saw pictures of three men who'd joined wineries in Walla Walla and Yakima over the past year. She flicked the page and saw three more photographs—two of men and one of a woman.
Not just any woman, the woman.
She brought the magazine closer and stared at the small photograph. Surrounded by ripened grapevines, the woman was sitting sideways on a tractor, one leg propped up with the cowboy hat perched on her knee. She was looking off in the distance, slight smile on her face and a Harlan Hurst wine bottle dangling between two fingers. Piper pulled the magazine back, and then closer again—she was certain that the woman in the magazine, Alex Vause, was the one she'd seen the day before and that very morning.
"What are the odds?" she mumbled to herself.
She read the paragraph next to the picture: Replacing the legendary Felix Whitaker was no easy task, but Harlan and Cecelia Hurst didn't need to look very far to find their next superstar winemaker. Alex Vause grew up on the 40-acre estate, working in the fields with her late mother before she could even ride a bicycle. "I remember walking home from school in first or second grade, not even putting my backpack in the house or changing clothes, and heading straight into the vineyard to help my mom tie vines, prune leaves or pick grapes." When Vause was just 17, she began assisting Whitaker in the lab, monitoring the grape's progress and ensuring quality. "I nicknamed her Shadow when she was younger—still call her that—wherever I looked, she was there," Whitaker recalls with fondness. "Alex was doing things with soil and grapes when she was still in her teens that I didn't learn until I was in my 40s. She's the real deal; I wouldn't leave my post at Harlan Hurst if I didn't feel confident that she'd take over without the wines missing a beat." At the ripe age of 32, Vause is certainly one to watch.
"Looks like everyone's here," Colton announced with the clap of his hands, startling Piper. "Let's take a walk in the vineyard before the sun gets too high and you're left with a nasty sunburn."
"It's too cold out here to get sunburned," Layla said, shrugging into her jacket.
"Trust me, it happens. That sun is bright even in the cooler weather." Colton hopped off the patio and waited for Piper to join the group.
She quickly closed the magazine, stuffing it into her bag for further investigation. Piper was stunned to learn that the woman she'd seen over the past 12 hours wasn't a field hand or a guest at the inn—she was the winemaker who was taking over for the illustrious Felix Whitaker. As Colton talked about grapevines and soil and terroir, Piper heard almost nothing. In all her research, she hadn't come across an American, female winemaker. There were female wine owners, but none of them did what Alex apparently did.
During their hour-long walk among the vines, Piper looked around for Alex, but there were no workers in the area where they were strolling. She wanted desperately to ask Colton about Alex, but the timing didn't feel right. As soon as he started talking about making wine, she'd feel comfortable asking about the newest winemaker.
Piper was delighted that her friends were asking questions and seemed to be enjoying their time, first in the fields, and then in the pressing room. Colton educated them about all the equipment, starting with the sorting table and moving on to the de-stemmer. "This room is firing on all cylinders for up to 48 hours straight during harvest, which is obviously right now."
"Will we get to see it in action?" Camila asked.
He nodded. "Not only will you get to see it in action, but you'll be a part of the process at Crush on Sunday."
Layla smiled. "Sounds like fun."
Polly plucked a stray grape off the conveyer belt. "Can we eat one?"
"If sour is your thing, go for it," a female voice came from the open doors at the far end of the cavernous room.
"The grapes left on the conveyer belt aren't exactly ripe," Colton explained, eyeing the woman who'd just breezed in.
Piper's pulse quickened as Alex dropped two baskets onto a table. She walked with a purpose—long strides, confident gait. The flannel shirt that had been buttoned up earlier that morning was now tied around her waist and her toned arms peeked out from her white t-shirt.
"This is Alex Vause, our winemaker."
She removed her work gloves and gave them a perfunctory wave, eyes remaining on Piper longer than on the other women.
"I was just telling our guests about the de-stemmer," he said, folding his arms and smirking.
She pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Don't let me interrupt."
"You're not interrupting at all." Colton hopped down from the crate he'd been standing on. "I have to run back to the inn real quick. Take over for me?"
She gave him a look, and Piper sensed that the last thing Alex wanted to do was entertain guests.
"Make it quick," she sighed, letting her cowboy hat dangle on her back and wiping sweat off her forehead with a red bandana.
Piper remembered to close her mouth, but she couldn't stop staring. According to the article in Decanter, Alex was 32-years-old, but her face looked younger—it was paler than Piper would've thought, what with being out in the sun for much of the day. Her white skin only accentuated her hazel eyes and thick, pink lips.
The winemaker's eyes once again landed on Piper, and she gave her the tiniest smile. "So, the de-stemmer?" Alex adjusted her glasses again and licked her lips. "After the grapes are destemmed, they go into a tank where they're pumped into the fermentation vessel." She walked over to a big, metal vat and leaned against it. "This is where red wine making differs from white. Red wines are fermented on their skins and usually on stems and sediment, which is called sur lie, while white wines are pressed, separating juice from skins before fermentation."
Piper could feel her cheeks heating up as she watched and listened to Alex talk about wine. There was something extraordinarily sexy about her, and she wished that Alex would conduct the rest of the tour and perhaps lead them through wine tasting and an evening of drinking.
"Pre-fermentation maceration is the time before fermentation that the grapes spend in contact with the skins." Alex toggled a few valves on the metal vat. "This enhances some of the varietal characteristics of the wine and extracts phenolic compounds from the skin."
"Could you put that in layman's terms?" Polly asked, arms now folded and a scowl on her face.
Alex glanced at her, blinking once. "No."
Piper snorted, and Alex caught her eye, miniscule smirk dangling on her lips.
"Sorry," Piper said, apologizing for her friend. "I'm assuming you aren't usually the one giving tours."
"How'd you guess?" She climbed up the ladder and peered inside the vat. "Fuckers didn't clean it," Alex mumbled. She stood ten feet off the ground and ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I want you to enjoy your time here and learn about how we make wine, but I'm not going to dumb shit down for you. That's Colton's job." She climbed down.
Piper couldn't help herself. "But you're so charming."
Alex took a step closer, and she smelled earthy—like grass and dirt and campfire. "I can be under the right circumstances."
Polly cleared her throat, but Piper didn't budge. She and Alex stood toe to toe for several seconds until Colton re-entered the room. Piper's pulse quickened and she yearned to touch Alex's skin. She wondered what it would feel like—probably warm from being in the sun minutes earlier, but soft to the touch.
"Alex was great, wasn't she?" He chuckled.
"Hardly," Polly whispered.
Alex grinned at Piper, and then turned her attention to Colton. "You're in much better hands now. Enjoy the tour." She playfully shoved him before walking away.
"Alex and I grew up together." His blush was endearing. "She's more like a sister to me than my own flesh and blood."
"Aww!" Camila cooed.
"But we don't let her around guests very often; you can see why."
Colton finished the tour, and then took the group into the functioning barrel room where more than 100 French and Hungarian oak barrels aged wine. When they turned the corner into the room with the recently filled barrels, there was a table set for five in the middle of the room and a tray of sandwiches off to the side. Piper was flabbergasted when she spotted Felix Whitaker sitting at the table, holding a glass of wine.
"Welcome," he announced with a smile. "Mind if I join you for lunch?"
If it weren't for Felix's presence, Piper would've been singularly focused on Alex, but over the next hour, she was captivated by the winemaker's tales. He was a superb storyteller, and the way he described wine was better than any guidebook she'd ever read. It made her salivate for whatever varietal he talked about. The good news was that her glass was always full with one Harlan Hurst wine or another. Just as expected, she enjoyed every one of them and was thankful that she finally had the opportunity to taste more than just their renowned Cab.
After being in the sun for much of the morning, eating a filling lunch, and drinking wine, the women decided a nap was in order. It was just as well for Colton—he had to prepare for the massive crush event on Sunday when nearly 100 volunteers would need direction on how to help.
Piper was tired to be sure, but she was more interested in exploring the vineyard than taking a nap. Truth be told, she was more interested in running into Alex than all of the above. Alex was as beautiful as she was intriguing, and after reading the paragraph about her in Decanter, Piper longed to know more. She strolled down rows of juicy Merlot grapes and wondered if they'd be harvested while they were at the winery. She popped a grape into her mouth, and was surprised that it wasn't as sour as she anticipated—it was actually sweet.
"Where are your friends?"
Piper twisted her head around to see Alex, carrying a basket and walking down the row.
She covered her yawn with the back of her arm. "Taking naps."
"Looks like you should be, too." She set the basket down and pulled the cap off a Sharpie with her teeth. "You should also wear a hat out here. It might feel cool, but your scalp will sunburn just like that." She snapped her fingers.
"I didn't bring one." Piper felt a vein in her neck pulsing at the nearness of the other woman.
Alex wrote something on a tag, and then snipped a small bunch of grapes.
"What are you doing?" She took a step closer and tried concentrating on Alex's work rather than the way her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders or her triceps flexed when she snipped the vine.
"Determining if the grapes are ready to pluck." She tied the tag around the grape stem, and then tossed them into the basket.
Piper read the tag: Merlot. "How will you know when they're ready?"
Alex regarded her as if she was figuring out if Piper was worth her time. She picked up the basket and headed down a different row. "Sight, touch, smell, taste—those are the basic, most primitive ways. Then I'll take them into the lab and measure sugar content, pH and acidity level." She handed Piper the Sharpie and a tag. "Write Syrah on this."
She did as she was told, eager to hear more.
"We want the grapes to be rich in color, no trace of green. A ripe grape will crush easily, but not be shriveled." Alex plucked one to demonstrate. "It should be plump and juicy. See all that liquid?"
She nodded, scooting out of the way when Alex squeezed the grape and the juices squirted in all directions. The way Alex said the words plump and juicy made sex enter Piper's mind. She tried to banish those thoughts, but it was difficult with the way Alex smelled and sounded. Her white t-shirt was stained with grape juice, half-tucked into her tight jeans, and her eyes were a subtle green beneath her dark frames.
"It's a balance between sweet and tart." Alex continued, snipping another bunch of grapes. "Each variety develops special flavors—varietal flavor. A ripe grape develops those flavors more fully." She reached for the tag, and then tied it around the stem. "Taste this." She held a grape up to Piper's mouth. "Close your eyes and imagine what the wine might taste like."
She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that singular grape as wine, but her thoughts were far more focused on the tingle on her lips where Alex's thumb had just skimmed. "I'm not very good at this."
"What—you don't taste a big, bold, luscious Syrah?" She chuckled. "It takes years of practice."
Piper opened her eyes to see that Alex had moved to yet another row. She was quick on the winemaker's heels. "It's hard to imagine that these little, red orbs become world renowned wines."
"I only hope that our wines are world renowned." She snipped another bunch, handed Piper the pen and directed her to write Malbec.
"I didn't know you made a Malbec." Piper cursed herself for yawning again and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.
"We use it as a blending grape, but I'm hoping this is the year we can do a single varietal." She put the grapes into the basket, picked it up and walked back towards the wine making barn. "If you're interested, I know a great place to take a nap."
Piper had to admit that she was wiped out from all the sun and wine tasting so far. "I guess I could close my eyes for a while." She followed Alex to a small patch of trees that could hardly be called a forest.
She took off her hat, revealing long, shiny black hair. "This is my relatively secret spot."
A hammock swayed in the cool breeze, half in the sunlight, half in the shade.
Piper sat on it and kicked her feet up, closing her eyes and exhaling loudly. "This is nice."
"Enjoy."
She felt something hit her stomach and opened her eyes to see Alex's cowboy hat. She turned her head and watched Alex walk into the wine making barn and put the hat on as she closed her eyes again. Although experiencing wine country was important, getting to know Alex suddenly became her top priority.