“What’s the emergency?” he said.

“My grandfather is...uh...he’s not feeling well. Goggy’s concerned.”

“Should you lie about stuff like that?” he asked. Levi was well acquainted with the elder Hollands, as they made up about ten percent of his work week. And if Mr. Holland really was under the weather, he’d bet Mrs. Holland would be picking out his funeral clothes and planning a cruise.

Faith sighed. “Look, Levi. I just took the red-eye from San Francisco. Can you give me a break? Sorry I was going too fast.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ll take a warning. Can I go now?”

“License and registration, please.”

“Still got that branch up your ass, I see.”

“License and registration, and please exit the vehicle.”

She mumbled something under her breath, then groped around in the glove compartment, her shirt coming out of her jeans to reveal a patch of creamy flesh. Looked like the fitness revolution had passed her by; then again, she’d always been a little lush ripe chunky, ever since he could remember. The dog took the opportunity to shove his head out again, and Levi scratched him behind the ear.

Faith slammed the glove box shut, shoved some papers in Levi’s hand, got out of the car, nearly hitting him with the door. “Stay put, Blue.” She didn’t look at Levi.

He glanced at her license, then at her.

“Yes, it’s a bad picture,” she snapped. “Want a tissue sample?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. This has expired, though. Another fine.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms under her chest. Still had that amazing rack.

“How was Afghanistan?” she asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Really great. I’m thinking of getting a summer place there.”

“You know what I wonder, Levi? Why are some people always such hemorrhoids? You ever wonder that?”

“I do. Are you aware that antagonizing an officer of the law is a felony?”

“Really. How fascinating. Can you get it in gear, please? I want to see my family.”

He signed the paper and handed it to her. She wadded it up and tossed it in the car. “Am I free to go, Officer?”

“It’s Chief now,” he said.

“See someone about that branch.” She got into the car and drove off. Not too fast, though not slowly, either.

Levi watched her go, releasing a breath. Up to Blue Heron Vineyard, the place her family had owned since America was a baby, to the big white house on the Hill, as her neighborhood was called.

He’d always known Faith Holland, the kind of girl who hugged her girlfriends six times a day in school, as if it’d been weeks since they’d seen each other, not two periods. She reminded him of a puppy trying to woo prospective owners at the pound... Like me! Like me! I’m really nice! Jessica, Levi’s old neighbor from the trailer park and on-and-off high school girlfriend, had dubbed her Princess Super-Cute, always bouncing around in frilly outfits and pastel colors. Once Faith had started dating Jeremy...it was like eating a bowl of Lucky Charms topped with syrup, so sweet it made your teeth ache. He was surprised bluebirds hadn’t fluttered around her head.

Funny, how she’d never noticed her boyfriend was gay.

Levi knew she’d been back over the years—Christmas and Thanksgiving, a weekend here and there, but her visits were short and sweet. She sure never stopped by the police station, though he was friendly with her family; sometimes her grandparents would ask him to stay for dinner after they’d summoned him to the house, and once in a while, he’d have a beer with her father or brother at O’Rourke’s. But Faith would never think to drop by and say hello.

Yet once upon a time, when she’d cried herself dehydrated, she’d fallen asleep with her head in his lap.

Levi got back into his cruiser. Plenty of work to do. No point in dwelling on the past.

* * *

FAITH KNOCKED ON THE BACK door of her father’s house and happily braced for impact. “I’m home!” she called.

“Faith! Oh, honey, finally!” cried Goggy, leading the stampede. “You’re late! Didn’t I tell you dinner was at noon?”

“Just got hung up a little,” Faith said, not wanting to mention Levi Cooper, Ass Pain.

Abby, now sixteen and so pretty, wrapped herself around Faith, burbling out compliments: “I love your earrings, you smell so good, can I come live with you?” Pops kissed both her cheeks and told her she was his prettiest girl, and Faith breathed in the comforting scent of grapes and Bengay. Ned hugged her amiably, despite being twenty-one, and tolerated a hair muss, and Pru gave her a hard hug, as well.

Her mother’s absence was still the most powerful thing in the room.

And finally there was Dad, who waited his turn for a solo hug. His eyes were wet when he pulled back. “Hi, sweetpea,” he said, and Faith’s heart gave a tug.

“Missed you, Daddy.”

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He ran a purple-stained hand over her hair and smiled.

“Mrs. Johnson’s not here?” Faith asked.

“It’s her day off,” Dad said.

“Oh, I know. I just haven’t seen her since June.”

“She doesn’t approve of Grandpa’s girlfriend,” Abby whispered as she petted Blue.

“Hi, sis,” Jack said, handing her a glass of wine.

“Hello, favorite sibling,” she answered, taking a hearty slug.

“Don’t drink it like it’s Gatorade, sweetpea,” her father chided. “We’re winemakers, remember?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Faith said. “Nice aroma of freshly cut grass, a rich, buttery texture, and I’m getting overtones of apricot with a hint of lemon. I love it.”

“Good girl,” he said. “Did you get any vanilla? Honor said vanilla.”

“Definitely.” Far be it for Faith to contradict Honor, who ran everything under the moon at Blue Heron Vineyards. “Where is Honor, by the way?”

“On that phone of hers,” Goggy said darkly. She tended not to trust anything invented after 1957. “Get in the dining room before the food gets cold.”

“I was serious when I asked to come live with you,” Abby said. Prudence sighed and took a slug of her own wine. “Plus,” Abby went on, “then I can establish residency in California and go to some awesome school out there at half price. See, Mom? Just saving you and Dad some money.”

“And where’s Carl, speaking of my favorite brother-in-law?” Faith asked.

“Hiding,” Pru answered.

“Well, well, well! You must be Faith!” A woman’s voice boomed as the downstairs bathroom door opened, the sound of a flushing toilet in the background.

Faith opened her mouth, then closed it. “Oh. I—I am. Lorena, I’m guessing?”

The woman Honor had warned about was a sight to behold indeed. Dull black hair, obviously dyed, makeup so thick you could carve in it and a squat body shown in horrifying detail through a clinging, leopard-print shirt.

The woman shoved a Sharpie pen in her cl**vage where it stayed, quivering, like a syringe. “Just touching up my roots!” she announced. “Wanted to make a nice impression on the little princess! Hello there! Give us a hug!”

Faith’s breath left her in a whoosh as Lorena wrapped her in a python grip. “Nice to meet you,” she wheezed as Pru gave her a significant look.

“Can we please eat before my death?” Pops asked. “The old woman here wouldn’t let me have my cheese. I’m starving.”

“So, die already,” Goggy answered. “No one’s stopping you. I’ll barely notice.”

“Well, Phyllis Nebbins would notice. She got a new hip two months ago, Faithie. Looks like she’s seventy-five again, out there with her grandson, always with a smile. Nice to see a happy woman.”

Goggy slammed down a massive bowl of salt potatoes. “I’ll be happy once you’re dead.”

“That’s beautiful, Goggy,” Ned said.

“You two are such hoots!” Lorena practically yelled. “I love it!”

Faith sat down, inhaling the scent of Goggy’s ham, salt potatoes and home.

There were two houses on Blue Heron Vineyard: the Old House, where Goggy and Pops lived, a Colonial that had been updated twice since being built in 1781—once to install indoor plumbing, then again in 1932. Faith and her siblings grew up here, in the New House, a graceful if creaky old Federal built in 1873, where Dad lived with Honor and Mrs. Johnson, the housekeeper who’d been with them since Mom died.

And speaking of Honor... “Sorry, everyone,” she said. She paused, gave Faith a brief kiss on the cheek. “You finally got here.”

“Hi, Honor.” She ignored the slight reprimand.

Pru and Jack were sixteen and eight years older than Faith respectively, and generally viewed their baby sister as adorable, if slightly incompetent (which Faith had never minded, as it got her out of a lot of chores back in the day). Honor, though... She was four years older; Faith had been a surprise. Maybe Honor had never forgiven Faith for stealing the title of baby of the family.

More likely, though, she’d never gotten over the fact that Faith had caused their mother’s death.

Faith had epilepsy, first diagnosed when she was about five. Jack had filmed a seizure once (typical boy), and Faith had been horrified to see herself oblivious, her muscles jerking and clenching, eyes as vacant as a dead cow’s. It was assumed that Constance Holland had been distracted by one such seizure and therefore hadn’t seen the car that had smashed into them, killing Mom. Honor had never forgiven Faith...and Faith didn’t blame her.

“Why are you just sitting there, Faith?” Goggy demanded. “Eat up, sweetheart. Who knows what you’ve been living on in California?” Her grandmother passed her a plate loaded with smoked ham, buttered salt potatoes, green beans with butter and lemon, and braised carrots (with butter). Faith imagined she gained a pound just by looking at it.

“So, Lorena, you and my dad are...?” Faith asked above the background noise of her grandparents bickering over how much salt Pops should put on his already heavily salted meal.

“Special friends, sweetheart, special, special friends,” the woman said, adjusting her rather massive breasts. “Right, Johnny?”

“Oh, sure,” he agreed amiably. “She was dying to meet you, Faith.”

According to Honor, Lorena Creech had met Dad about a month earlier during a tour of Blue Heron. Everyone in the area knew John Holland had been devastated by his wife’s death, had never wanted to date anyone, was happy among his children, grandchildren and grapes. Any attempts at a relationship had been gently rebuffed in the early days until it was accepted that John Holland Jr. would remain a widower the rest of his life.

Enter Lorena Creech, a transplant from Arizona, clearly a gold digger, and not a candidate for stepmother. All three local Holland kids had discussed this with Dad, but he’d just laughed and waved off their concern. And while Dad was many things, Faith thought, watching as Lorena held the silverware up to the light, he wasn’t the most observant of men. No one had anything against Dad finding a nice woman to marry, but no one wanted Lorena to be sleeping upstairs in Mom’s old bed, either.

“So how many acres have you got here?” Lorena asked, taking a huge bite of ham. Subtle.

“Quite a few,” Honor said icily.

“Subdividable?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, some of it is, Honor, honey,” Dad said. “Over my dead body, of course. More green beans, Lorena?”

“This is nice,” Lorena said. “The whole family together! My late husband was sterile, Faith. A groin injury when he was a boy. Tractor backed up, squished him in the soft parts, so we never could have kids, though, hell, we sure got it on!”

Goggy was staring at Lorena as if she was a snake in the toilet. Jack drained his wine.

“Good for you!” Pops said. “Have some more ham, sweetheart.” He nudged the plate across the table toward Lorena, whose appetite was not restricted to the boudoir, it seemed.

“So, Faith,” Jack said, “Dad says you’ll be staying here for a while.”

Faith nodded and wiped her mouth. “Yep. Finally gonna fix up the old barn up on Rose Ridge. I’ll be here for about two months.” The longest she’d been back since her wedding debacle, and not just to fix up the barn, either. Both the mission and the length of time gave her a pang of alarm.

“Yay!” Abby said.

“Yay,” Ned echoed, winking at her.

“What are you doing with the old barn?” Pops asked. “Speak up, sweetie.”

“I’ll be turning it into a space for special events, Pops,” she explained. “People would rent it out, and it’d bring in some extra income for the vineyard. Weddings, anniversary parties, stuff like that.” She’d first come up with the idea when she was in graduate school—transform the old stone barn into something that blended into the landscape effortlessly, something modern and old at the same time.

“Oh! Weddings! I’d love to get married again,” Lorena said, winking at Dad, who simply grinned.

“It sounds like too much work for you, sweetheart,” Goggy said.

Faith smiled. “It’s not. It’s a great spot, and I’ve already got some plans drafted, so I’ll show them to everyone and see what you think.”

“And you can do that in two months?” Lorena asked around a potato.