Winter seemed to stop everything, but this winter Pullo's life has taken a rare
turn for the better. With the generosity of brother Dino, he could finally move on with things. But he owed much to Maximus and felt that inviting him to review the property he planned to purchase would offer the best opportunity to thank him.

"I know I'm leaving you high and dry, General. It's truly not my intention and if you need, I can come to Sonoma right after the papers are signed and help you find a new vintner."

Max chuckled, shook his head and congenially patted Pullo's back. "Brother … this is the reason we do this, take care of each other … so that each of us can find our way. I will not delay your future, Pullo. You have much to do before the spring thaw." His eye trailed to the woman trudging the snow to meet them at the vineyard front gate. "Much to do."

They'd met with lovely Lesley Brookmeyer twice in two days, Maximus compiling several questions only the winery inspector could answer … but she wasn't such a pleasant woman. She scowled and tucked her gloved hands deep into her coat pockets, not even permitting Pullo a chance to hold it kindly or shake it professionally. He cleared his throat and she glared.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Her nose was red from the walk. Lesley had parked far from the other two cars, had no intention of being very sociable and had her own good reasons. Why did Titus Pullo have to be so damn handsome? This certainly wasn't the time in her life for handsome men. She purposely looked to Mr. Meridius and awaited an answer. It was fourteen fucking degrees out there.

"Ah …ah …" Pullo said but Meridius finally responded.

"The soil acidity analysis; Pullo is curious if a new testing had been done recently, Ms. Brookmeyer."

They couldn't ask that over the damn phone? She huffed. "Um, no. Not since the vineyard was active, three years ago. But I assure you, there's low acidity up here." She turned to Pullo. "You'll be grossly limited as to what you can cultivate in this soil. There's a damn good reason this vineyard had failed, Mr. Pullo. The soil, the altitude, most of the vines were placed on the wrong side of this hill."

Pullo blinked but Meridius chuckled. "There is little that limits Pullo. You will be amazed to see what this vintner can do."

"Well, amazed or not, it won't matter. By the end of this month I'm no longer an inspector. I wish you luck," and she turned on her heel, tromped her way back to her car nearly a quarter mile away and released a breath. It was tough being a nasty bitch, not at all in her nature. There just wasn't any room in her mind or heart for the job or new people. No room. No time. Period.

Pullo blinked. "Now what the hell did I do to set her off like that?"

"Nothing," Maximus chuckled and climbed into his rental. "I will meet you back at the motel. I'll be returning to the Inn this morning. You'll be coming too I assume."

"Yes, yes. Something about a tree and a party. I'll not likely miss a party at the Inn, then."

He watched Max drive away and leaned back against the fender of his newly purchased vehicle, an SUV that promised to get him anywhere in Vermont, come rain or sleet or snow. He watched Lesley near her own car and wondered at how far away she'd parked. Was he that offensive? And why was it so damn important that he bring her closer into his life? He liked her, liked her feistiness, her boldness … even her attempts at being a bitch. She wasn't well versed at it, he could tell.

The chill cut through him but he remained there, watching her climb into her car then climb back out. She was returning and he straightened. If he met her halfway would it earn him a smile? Or a slap across his face? Worth the efforts to find out.

"Problem?" He called across the openness and she stopped, threw up her hands and finally joined him, exactly half way.

"Yes. Mr. Pullo, it seems I wasn't paying attention and forgot to put gas in my car. My daughter is in there and freezing. Is there any way you -"

"I'll take you home. Come, I'll drive you to your car and -"

"No, no need. I'll just walk back."

But he grasped her arm, looked sincerely down into her face. "Lesley, no reason to walk in this bitter cold. I'll have you to your car sooner and we can get you both warm. Come on, love."

She finally conceded and he quickly rushed her out of the cold and started the engine. "So, you have a daughter."

"Yes, a freezing daughter."

"How old?"

She turned a glare. "Eleven."

"Didn't know you were married," he slowed to a stop beside the quiet car.

"Mr. Pullo. I appreciate your kindness. Lord knows I don't deserve it but no more questions, please."

He climbed out to open her door but she was already out and moving toward the car. "I just said I didn't know you were married, that's all."

Before she gathered her daughter she turned a glare at Pullo. "I have never been married. Okay?"

"Ah … well … nothing says you can't raise a daughter alone … hello little love," he grinned at the pretty little girl and quickly opened the back door for her. She scooted into the SUV then smiled up at him. "Seatbelt, love," he said and she quickly clipped it.

This time he didn't even attempt to open Lesley's door. She could feel it ebbing away, his interest, the interest she didn't want and suddenly felt bad about losing. All for the better … all for the better.

"Mr. Pullo," the little girl said from the back seat and his eyes rose to meet her gaze in the rear view mirror.

"Yes, little love?"

"My mother knows more about wine and grapes than anyone in the world."

"I'm sure she does. And what's your name, little one?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't being polite. My name is Valerie."

"Well Valerie, are you warm enough back there?"

"Yes, thank you Mr. Pullo."

"Can we go?" Lesley groaned and he turned a pleasant smile.

"As soon as you tell me where we're going, love."

Good God, she loved when he did that; called her 'love' like he meant it or something. What was wrong with the world? Why couldn't she meet a man like Titus Pullo when she could have enjoyed him? God had one nasty sense of humor, that's for sure. "Right on the main road, nine miles then a left on Valley Haven Road. Third house on the left." She nearly choked giving him the directions.

She was shivering hard and only part of it was from the cold. She glanced at his dashboard clock. It was past time for her medication. When he'd called her cell phone, she and Valerie were shopping for gifts to give their elderly neighbors. She should have refused meeting with the vintner, should have gone home to take care of herself. But the chance to see him again loomed big in her heart. Now things just got real complicated.

Valerie obviously liked him. He would obviously have a thousand more questions about that nasty old vineyard he was determined to buy and she would obviously do whatever it took to answer them, to see him just one more time. Complicated was an understatement.

She wanted to demand he drive faster, felt her body weaken against the pain but said nothing. At the house, she quickly left the car and almost ran to her front door. "Come on Valerie! Hurry up."

Pullo turned to the little girl. "Your mother doesn't like me much, I guess."

Together they watched Lesley disappear inside the house.

"My mom likes you a lot. She just needs to take her medicine, that's all. Next time, maybe we can invite you inside?"

"I'd like that. But this time, maybe I'll come in anyway, make sure you get in and your mother's okay." Pullo didn't wait for an answer, simply escorted little Valerie into the modest house.

Lesley was nowhere in sight and he called for her, looked in the kitchen then climbed the stairs, feeling a pressure of concern as he did. She stood, blocking the top step and glared.

"I didn't invite you in here," Lesley spat but her anger didn't hide her weakness. She slowly sat on the step and Pullo knelt at her side.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Terrible headache and I needed to get some aspirin, that's all. Thanks for the ride and thanks for bringing Valerie inside. Now … please … would you mind leaving?"

There was a sad desperation in her eyes that he couldn't refuse. "Sure, love. Sure. You have my number if you need anything. I'll put gas in your car and have it here later today. Heading back to the Inn in Stowe for a few days but I'll be back. Valerie?"

"Yes, Mr. Pullo," she called from the bottom step.

"You take good care of your mother, alright?"

"I will."

"Why don't you go make her a nice hot cup of tea, love?"

Valerie smiled. "Oh yes! I know just which kind she likes. I'll get you a cup of tea, mom!" and she ran off.

Pullo watched the paleness on Lesley's face; the sadness in her eyes then placed a palm softly on the top of her head and said a silent prayer to the gods for good health. "Come, let's get you downstairs."

"I can walk."

"Of course you can, but …" he lifted her into his arms and took her down to the sofa. "Rather see you rest. Headaches are nothing to play around with."

She squared narrowed eyes and he stood.

"Good. Good. I'll just check in the kitchen, make sure your little girl's not burning down the house, then off with me."

"Good," Lesley grunted.

"Good," Pullo groaned and left for the kitchen. Finding everything fine in there, he kissed little Valerie on the top of her head and winked. "This is my phone number, honey. You call me if your mother feels worse, alright?"

"She always feels worse before she feels better, and I'm supposed to call Mr. and Mrs. Michaels if she gets bad."

"How bad?" Pullo sat on a chair, watched the girl carefully dunk a chamomile tea bag in a mug of steaming water.

Valerie shrugged. "She always gets better. It's just another headache."

Following Valerie to the living room he noted the scowl of anger shooting from Lesley's eyes. Perhaps he had already overstepped his boundaries. "I'm going. Won't bother you when I bring the car. Promise. Goodbye."

When he left he sighed relief. There was color again in Lesley's lovely face. Perhaps the appropriate holiday gift for this woman he liked far too much would be a bottle of aspirin?