“It’s a wine tasting, Mrs. J.,” Jack said. “We can’t move.” He turned to the gun-toting Texan. “What did you think? Can I pour you something else?” he asked.

“I’ll just have more of the white zin,” she said.

“It’s a rosé,” Jack said. Faith imagined he was trying not to weep over the misnomer of his beloved wine. The lady drained it, smiled and wandered off.

“Jackie,” Mrs. Johnson said, “did you eat this morning? I brought you a sandwich. I don’t want you eating any of the slop they’re serving here.” This earned her a dirty look from Cathy Kennedy, who was staffing the sausage booth for Trinity Lutheran. Mrs. Johnson returned the look hotly, till Cathy Kennedy broke. Most people did.

Mrs. J. unwrapped the sandwich and put it in Jack’s hand.

“Yes, little prince,” Faith said. “Eat up. Maybe Mrs. J. will chew the food for you so you don’t have to work so hard.”

“Don’t be so disgusting and unladylike, Faith, and here, Jackie. Eat.”

“Where’s my sandwich?” Pru asked, joining them.

“Did I not make you griddle cakes this very morning?” Mrs. J. asked.

“Oh, God. I hear Lorena,” Jack said. “Pru, uh, come help me with something really important. Faith can handle the tasting.”

“Get back here,” Faith hissed. It was no good. Both siblings bolted, leaving her to staff the tasting table with their housekeeper, who clucked in disapproval. “Mrs. J., why can’t you marry Dad and make us all happy?” Faith asked. Though she wasn’t completely sure, Faith thought Mrs. Johnson was widowed. Then again, the woman didn’t spill about her personal life. Ever.

“Don’t get me started on your father’s many flaws, the least of which is his recently terrible taste in women.” Mrs. Johnson stared at Lorena, her face swelling with regal disgust. “Five o’clock in the afternoon and she, with a dress that exposes more than half of those tired breasts. Shameful, shameful.”

“I’m working on a replacement,” Faith murmured, unable to tear her eyes off Lorena, who wore a strapless tiger-print sundress several sizes too small. The bodice was smocked, the stitching stretched to the “we can’t hold on much longer” point. Dad, on the other hand, was in his customary aging Blue Heron shirt, stained Blue Heron cap and stained jeans, yucking it up with Joe Whiting, another winemaker from farther up Keuka. Dad was probably unaware that Lorena (and everyone around them) assumed he was on a date.

“You’d better work fast, my dear,” Mrs. Johnson said. “Your father, he is not the most observant of men.”

“I know.” If it wasn’t related to grapes, Dad tended not to notice. So, yes, it was possible that, before he fully realized what was happening, Lorena could move in, change his will and sell off ten acres to a water park developer. But finding the perfect woman, that was a challenge. Dad worshipped the memory of St. Mom.

“Can I have a taste of the Gewürztraminer?” a man asked.

“Absolutely,” Faith answered, snapping to attention. “This one got a 91 from Wine Spectator, and we’re very proud of it. It’s been aged for eighteen months, so it’s just now starting to speak. The nose is lovely, don’t you think? Passionfruit, pepper, a little honeysuckle, just a touch of pencil lead in the body, with a whisper of lychee in the finish.”

Mrs. Johnson snorted, and Faith bit down on a smile. Yeah, yeah, she’d made that all up, not having tasted the wine yet. Faith wasn’t even sure whether or not lychee was an actual fruit. Those descriptions got a little silly sometimes, but it almost seemed the more ridiculous the description, the better the sales. Still, Honor would kill her if she heard. She took wine descriptions very seriously.

“Oh, yeah,” the man said. “Pencil lead. I love it!”

At that moment, her dog bounded over to her. “Hi, baby!” she said bending over to ruffle his wet fur. “Where’ve you been? Did Ned take you swimming?”

“My brother and your dog just took a shower together,” came a voice. “Kinda pervy, if you ask me.”

Faith looked up. “Sarah! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How’ve you been?”

Faith had always envied Levi for having a little sister; he’d always been very protective of her, one of his few (only?) redeeming qualities. Sarah had the same green eyes as Levi, though hers weren’t filled with dismissal. Yeah. That was it. Levi could dismiss a person in one glance. He was, in fact, doing it right now.

“Keep a better eye on your dog, Faith,” he said, deigning to speak to her. “He was terrorizing the Knoxes’ chickens.”

Right. Like Blue would terrorize anything. “Branch,” she said. Ass, she mouthed.

“Chief Cooper! You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Mrs. Johnson said, getting a kiss on the cheek from Levi. Weird, seeing him acting with social graces.

Faith turned back to Sarah. “You must be in college now, right?”

“Yeah, I just started at Hobart.”

“Great! Do you like it?”

“I hate it, actually.”

“Hey, Sarah,” Ned said, coming over and slinging an arm around Faith. “Faith, I’m here to take over, because Honor says you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Hi, Ned.” Sarah blushed. Ned was very cute.

“How’s school?” he asked, and the two started talking about classes and clubs. They looked nice together, Sarah with her blond hair, Ned tall and dark. And while Ned was already out of college, that didn’t really matter. He didn’t have a girlfriend that Faith knew of, and she interrogated him frequently on the subject.

Levi was watching the two of them. No smile. He glanced at her, scowled, then resumed his staring. Faith suppressed a sigh. It wasn’t like she was playing matchmaker; she was just standing there. Like a lump, now that she thought of it.

Dad came over and handed her a bottle of water. “Make sure you drink enough, sweetpea,” he said, his kind blue eyes crinkling. “It’s hot compared to what you’re used to.”

Alas, Lorena appeared at his side. “Finally!” Lorena boomed. “Something decent to drink around here! Blue Heron has the best wine ever! I haven’t had anything but swill all day long!” She gave Dad an exaggerated wink, and Faith suppressed a cringe. The winemakers in the region were a very tight bunch; there was some quiet competition, of course, and everyone wanted to win a medal or snag a great review. But what was good for one vineyard tended to be good for them all, so Lorena’s type of PR wasn’t scoring any points.

“Hi there, Sarah,” Dad said. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Fine, thanks, Mr. Holland.”

“Levi,” Dad said, “you’ve seen Faith since she got back, haven’t you?”

She was abruptly aware that Levi was standing very close to her, smelling like soap, his hair damp. What had Sarah said? He’d given Blue a bath?

He gave her a look that fell around an eight on the Boredom Scale, something she’d first invented sophomore year of high school, when she’d asked if he wanted to sign up to tutor with her in Corning. One was Oh. It’s you. Ten was You’re invisible. And today’s look, the eight, was Really? You’re still here?

“Yes, sir,” he said to her father. “Gave her a speeding ticket the other day.”

Irritating. Then again, he hadn’t mentioned the fact that she’d been wedged in a bathroom window, either. Points for discretion.

Dad gave her a surprised look. “You, honey? You’re usually so careful.”

“I didn’t realize they’d dropped the speed limit, that’s all.”

“Well, you let me pay for that,” he said.

Goggy appeared from the crowd. “Faith, take a look at what your grandfather is wearing. He knows I hate that shirt. It’s polyester! And it’s from 1972.”

“A classic,” Pops said, though he was already sweating from the airless fabric.

“Levi,” Goggy said, laying her hand on his forearm. His tanned, smooth, muscular forearm. Little golden hairs caught the light. Faith cleared her throat and looked at something else. “The squirrels in our attic. They make noise every night! Faith can hardly sleep.” This earned her another disgusted look from Levi.

“Goggy, it’s fine. I’ll go up there with some Havahart traps.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Levi said.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart,” Goggy said. “I don’t want Faith to fall.”

Pru returned to the Blue Heron table, Abby in tow, and cuffed Levi fondly on the shoulder. “Here he is. Viagra for women.”

“Mom, please! We’re in public!” Abby said.

“You said it, Pru!” Lorena answered. “Can I get an amen? Right, Faith?”

“Yeah, no, I’m not feeling it,” she murmured.

“Sorry, Sarah, didn’t see you there,” Pru said. “Didn’t mean to ogle your brother in front of you. And what can I say? He’s cute. Levi, you’re cute.”

Abby rolled her eyes. “Sarah, want to go find something to do? Get away from these horrifying adults?”

“Sure,” Sarah said. “See you later, big bro.” She smooched Levi on the cheek, who took it manfully. Even smiled.

It was just a small smile, but it took Faith unawares. Granted, she’d seen him smile over the years. Plenty of steamy looks at Jessica... Honestly, he probably practiced those in the mirror. Otherwise, it was the Boredom Scale for her.

Except for that one day when he’d shocked the living daylights out of her and kissed her. Chances were, he’d smiled then. And yes, there’d been a steamy look or two. Something else, too. Something...protective.

Or not. He was looking at her now, the smile gone and that much more familiar bored look...a six...now a seven...getting close to an eight. He crinkled his brow at her as if to say, What, Holland?

“Johnny!” Lorena boomed. “What’s a girl gotta do to get a meal around here? Buy me a sausage, what do you say? I love me some sausage! Right, Faith? Us girls love sausage!”

“I’d say she has some nerve, calling herself a girl,” Mrs. Johnson muttered darkly.

“What would you like, Lorena?” Dad asked. “Faith? No? Mrs. Johnson, how about you? Can I buy you some of that kettle corn you like? Hmm? I’ll take that silence as a yes.” He winked, then walked away, Lorena and her mammoth br**sts flopping along beside him.

“Think he even knows she’s interested?” Ned asked.

“Your grandfather is too good-hearted,” Mrs. Johnson said. “That woman.”

The next customer at the wine tasting was a familiar face. “Hi, Mrs. McPhales!” Faith said, her throat tightening. “It’s so nice to see you!” Mrs. McPhales had been Faith’s Girl Scout leader one year, one of those die-hard types who actually made scouts earn the badges. Ned, who was on the Manningsport Volunteer Fire Department, said they went up to her house fairly often these days. Apparently she was heading down the sad road toward dementia...today, she was wearing her slippers instead of shoes. Faith came out from behind the table and kissed the old lady. “What can I get for you, Mrs. McPhales? Would you like some wine?”

“I’ll take a coffee, I guess,” the old lady said.

“Coming up, dear lady. Cream and sugar?” Mrs. Johnson asked. She really was a peach once you got over her Darth Vader type of omnipotence. Mrs. McPhales nodded, then seemed to recognize Faith.

“Faith! How are you? Aren’t you and that nice Jeremy getting married soon?”

“We’re not,” Faith said. “Sorry.”

“Oh! That’s right! He’s a confirmed bachelor, from what I hear.”

“I think so,” Faith said.

“You poor thing. Chin up, Faith, dear. You’re very brave.”

Faith thought she heard a snort. Right. Levi was still here. Brian, Mrs. McPhales’s son, came up and took his mom by the arm, smiling at Faith as he led her away.

At the moment, there was no one around except Levi. “Thanks for washing Blue,” she said, attempting to be friendly. “That was really nice of you. And unnecessary, but thank you.”

“Keep him leashed.” A five on the scale. “I’ll have to start fining you if he runs loose all the time.”

Sigh. “It was one time, Levi.”

“Make sure it’s only one.” He wasn’t even looking at her; casting about instead for someone more interesting to talk with.

Faith felt her jaw clenching. “Heard you got divorced, Chief.”

His eyes came back to her. An eight. “Yes.”

“How long were you married?” Colleen had passed on the details, of course, but why not torture him?

He waited before answering, his green eyes filled with disdain. “Three months,” he finally said.

“Really! Wow. What a short time.”

“Yes, Holland,” he said. “Three months is a short time.”

“Bet you wish someone had stopped your wedding.” She smiled sweetly. “Seems only fair, since you’re so good at doing that for others.”

Levi was crinkling his brow at her again. “When do you go back to San Francisco?”

“We’ll see.”

“Really? No job?”

“I’m very successful, actually. And I’m doing two projects here, one up at Blue Heron, another for the library, so I’ll be around for at least six weeks. Isn’t that great?” He didn’t answer. “There’s Julianne Kammer now. I should go and talk to her.”