Between the Vines (26 page)

Peter stepped up to Edward. Anger smouldered in his eyes. “You're an arsehole sometimes, Ed.”

“Just looking after you, Peter.”

Edward pushed past his brother and slammed out the door. Immediately the anger left him and remorse replaced it. Why was he so riled up? He didn't even care that Taylor had called off their relationship but if he couldn't have her then neither could Peter. It would only complicate matters.

Edward had seen them together the night after Taylor had broken off with him. He'd gone to the quarters to see her but he'd heard Peter's voice and he'd waited outside in the dark. He hadn't caught everything they'd said but it had sounded like Taylor had wormed her way into Peter's affection and he'd offered her a job and asked her to stay.

Edward had ducked away when Taylor had surprised him at the door so he hadn't heard what happened after that. No doubt she would use Peter like she had Edward and then dump him. Peter would be hurt like he had been with Felicity. Better Edward throw him a swift punch in the guts now than his heart be broken like it had back then.

The brick of the quarters glowed in the setting sun. Edward sighed. He'd best go and talk to Taylor, make sure she didn't keep chasing Peter. He crossed the yard and walked along the track to the door, still clutching the meal she'd given him.

The music that had been playing when he'd called in earlier could no longer be heard. He pulled back the screen door and knocked. Taylor opened the door. The light from the room behind shone through her hair giving a halo effect.

“Can I come in?”

She opened the door wider and gestured with her arm. He stepped past her into the quarters.

Taylor stood just inside the door studying him.

“I wanted to have a quick chat,” he said.

“What about?”

“You and Peter.”

She folded her arms. “There is no ‘me and Peter'.”

She played the game just like Peter had but Edward was having none of it. “Peter is a nice guy,” he said. “Too nice sometimes. He was always the one to rescue baby animals and bring them home for Mum to fix.”

“What's that got to do with me?”

“He's rescuing you.”

Taylor frowned at him.

Edward took a deep breath. He would have to spell it out. “He's only being nice to you.”

“I don't understand.”

“Letting you stay here, giving you a job that someone else could do. He's got a soft heart.”

Still Taylor frowned at him.

“Don't you get it? We broke up and he feels sorry for you. The little orphan with nowhere to go. You're just another of Peter's rescue projects.”

Her eyes opened wide. He'd hit his mark.

She put her hand on the door. “I think you should go, Ed.”

“That's funny. Asking me to leave my own property.”

She opened her mouth but he put up his hand. “It's okay. I'm going. Peter's employed you so I won't change that but as soon as vintage eases off I think it best that you leave.”

He stepped through the door.

“It will be my pleasure.” She pushed the wooden door shut behind him. It screeched in protest then closed with a thud.

Taylor leaned against the door. Her heart pounded and anger pulsed through her.

“Bastard.”

How had she ever thought he was the one for her? She picked up
a cushion from the old chair and punched it. The cloud of dust it emitted made her sneeze. She looked around the room that had become her temporary home through watery eyes. That was just it. This was only play-acting. Like she'd said to Pete she needed to find a real job, something to give her purpose.

“Taylor, you're a bloody fool.”

She sagged onto the couch. The thought of Pete's smile swept away her anger. She was just beginning to realise he had all the good attributes. Ed's had only been window-dressing but Pete's were genuine. She put her hand to her head. That's what she'd thought about Ed and Larry and Foster and the guys before them. Maybe she was the one who was at fault. She fell for them then realised they weren't the men she'd thought they were. What was it she wanted in a man? She couldn't answer her own question.

She looked at her watch. It was only eight o'clock. Here it was another Friday night and she was alone. She stormed into her little cell of a room, flung clothes about and found her good black jeans and sparkly gold top. She went to the bathroom, applied some make-up and brushed her hair. She peered at herself trying to see the whole look but it was impossible in the small mirror.

“You'll do,” she said and flicked off the light.

She grabbed a jacket and her keys and let herself out of the quarters. Pete's cottage was in darkness. Her steps faltered and she stopped behind her van searching for any sign of him. They'd been having such a good time until Ed had turned up. Pete was fun. He had a ready laugh and kind eyes that also reflected an inner spark. He'd gazed at her with more than kindness in his look. Or so she'd thought, but she was only another project to Pete. Someone he could rescue then move on.

Taylor turned away from the cottage and climbed into her van. She pushed the keys into the lock and paused. Once more she questioned what she was doing, where she was going. Then with a firm twist of the key she started the engine, turned the van around and headed into town.

Pete sat in the darkness, his anger at Ed long gone, replaced by a deep sadness which had seeped into every part of him. Ed had taken delight in reminding him about Felicity. It had been so long ago Pete never thought about her in that way anymore. In fact he was glad in many ways he hadn't pursued her. As an office manager Felicity was efficient and he was thankful for that, just as he was thankful he'd never chased what he'd thought was love for her.

He lifted his head at the sound of a vehicle. Headlights shone along the passage and then were gone, the engine noise fading with them.

Taylor. He wondered where she was going. Pete had watched through his back door as Ed had made his way to the quarters and gone in. The thought of the two of them together infuriated him. Taylor had arrived as Ed's girlfriend but then she'd called it off. Neither of them had appeared too upset by that but perhaps he'd read it wrong. Ed hadn't stayed long at the quarters but now Taylor had gone out. Perhaps to meet him somewhere. Pete put his head in his hands. Too many thoughts whirled in his head. He just wanted them to stop.

He lurched to his feet and took his jacket from the hook. He needed fresh air and something else to think about. He let himself out the front door and strode out between the rows of shiraz. The grapes were gone but the leaves still clung to the vines, the fresh scent of them mingling with the sweet earthy smell of the soil. He batted at the odd string of spider web. There was little moon tonight but he made his way with a sure-footed tread despite the clinging strands. Spiders were the least of his worries. When he got to the end of the row he turned and headed towards the new cabernet vines yet to be picked.

He hadn't said as much to Taylor but anyone paying close attention to his NS18 grapes made him nervous, especially after his conversation with Howard and Ed's talk of selling. He stopped as he reached the first row of vines. He picked a couple of grapes and popped them in his mouth. The sharp and sweet flavours exploded
on his palette. Wednesday, he decided. They would pick these grapes Wednesday, but how was he going to do that without telling Ed?

Taylor stepped into the noisy bar. Friday night was a busy night with a mix of people from those still in their work clothes to the well-heeled in their leather jackets and designer jeans. Several people wore hats, some of them weird and wonderful creations.

“Taylor.”

She looked over to the end of the bar where Antoine was waving at her. Relieved to see someone she knew she made her way through the throng to meet him.

Antoine kissed her on both cheeks. “I thought you were staying home.”

“Changed my mind.” Taylor smiled at the two blokes staring at her from beside Antoine.

“Let me introduce you then I'll buy you a drink.” Antoine placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “This is our cellar hand, Taylor. And this is Tom.”

The tall blond bloke reached out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And Eric.”

The other guy, more Antoine's height but with a shock of red hair, also shook her hand. “Hello,” he said. “We've been hearing all about your cooking. No cellar hand I've ever worked with had cooking on their CV.”

“Not sure I'm your usual cellar hand.” Taylor chuckled. “Once I started cooking for the blokes at Wriggly Creek they found me more jobs to do. I guess I've become a bit of a jack of all trades.”

“Let me get you a drink, Taylor.” Antoine pulled out his wallet. “Beer?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Hello.” A woman with bright red lipstick, a big smile and a wide-brimmed orange hat with flowers poking out in all directions joined the group. She took the drink Eric handed her.

“This is my wife, Tracey.” He nodded. “Taylor from Wriggly Creek.”

“Hi, Tracey.”

“You're the cellar hand everyone's talking about.” Tracey grinned. “Pleased to meet you at last.”

“Oh dear. That doesn't sound good.” Taylor took a big mouthful of the beer Antoine brought back. “Thanks.” She gave him a grateful smile.

“This is a small town.” Tracey raised her eyebrows. “You can't roll over in bed around here without someone knowing about it.”

Taylor swallowed another big draught of her beer.

“One woman living with three blokes has sent the town grapevine into overdrive.” Tracey chuckled.

What did she mean? Taylor emptied her glass. This was the twenty-first century. Surely she didn't have to explain her living arrangements, defend her honour.

“So you moved here to be with Ed I hear. He's quite a catch.”

“Yes and no…it didn't…” Taylor scratched at her forehead. “We're not together.”

“Stop it Trace.” Eric gave his wife a nudge. “You're embarrassing Taylor.”

“Sorry. I must have heard wrong.” Tracey looked contrite. “I didn't mean to be insensitive.”

“That's okay. Ed and I did date for a while.” Taylor looked at her empty glass. “I'm not used to people taking notice of what I do.”

“In the country they take notice and there are some that relish adding in the embellishments. Mostly they don't mean any harm. Took me a while to get used to it.”

“My shout.” Eric collected their glasses.

Taylor got a glimpse along the bar. The staff all had brightly
coloured top hats on.

“Is there some kind of hat theme tonight?” she asked.

“They usually run a competition here once a month. Tonight it's mad hatters night. They gave out a few prizes earlier.” Tracey grinned and pulled at the brim of her hat. “I won a bottle of bubbly for mine. They've had some good events here. Gets people mixing and talking.”

“You're not a local?” Taylor moved closer to Tracey. The bar was getting very loud.

“Eric and I are from New South Wales. I grew up in Sydney and he comes from Newcastle.”

“You're a long way from home.”

“Eric's a winemaker. He wanted to learn more about red production and there was a job going here. I do relief teaching in the area.” Tracey waved a hand in the air. “We've settled in. It's a small community but the people are friendly and there's always something happening.” She tapped her funny hat. “Like tonight.”

Eric handed Taylor a beer and joined Antoine and Tom's conversation.

“Hi, Trace.” A tall angular woman squeezed past the blokes to join them. She had a long nose and large red lips, and wore a funny little green felt hat with several feathers protruding from its band that reminded Taylor of Pinocchio. “Nice hat.”

“It won me a prize.” Tracey beamed. “Carol, this is Taylor. She's working out at–”

“Wriggly Creek. Yes, I'd heard.” Carol studied Taylor with an inquisitive look. “Nice to meet you at last.”

“Hello.”

“I hear you're with Edward Starr.”

Taylor's mouth dropped open.

“She's not with Ed,” Tracey said firmly. “Taylor's a cellar hand.”

“Really?” Carol stared at her, disbelief plastered all over her face. “But I–”

“What are you doing for the weekend?” Tracey cut Carol off and
began to quiz her on her plans.

Taylor took a gulp of beer. So she really was the subject of town gossip. Living out at the winery she'd not met a lot of the locals. She'd had a couple of meals out with Ed, and Pete had brought her here for a meal and now she was here with Antoine. Well, not really
with
Antoine. She clasped a hand across her mouth. She could see how that might look to someone watching from the outside. They could easily put two and two together and come up with six.

“Something wrong, Taylor?”

She looked back to Tracey and Carol who were both studying her. Taylor dropped her hand.

“No, all good.” She drained her glass. “Must be my shout.”

She lined up at the bar.

A young bloke with big lips and a knowing grin plastered on his face scooped up the glasses. “Same again?” He wore a tall red-and-white-striped top hat.
Terry
was embroidered on his t-shirt.

“Yes thanks, Terry.”

He turned and as he did his eye twitched. He'd winked at her. Taylor shook her head. He had to be several years her junior.

“Actually no,” she said. “Make mine a glass of bubbly please.” She'd join the girls with their preference.

He looked at her over the top of the beer tap. “You must be Taylor.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Just a lucky guess.” He lined up the beers and started pouring glasses of bubbly. “Antoine said there was a better-looking cellar hand than him at Wriggly Creek. He was right.”