Staring at her now, he could barely believe the tremendous step forward their relationship had taken. Not only had they slept together multiple times, but, without formally committing their lives to each other, informally they’d done just that. And in no way did that commitment feel scary or premature—it just felt right. More than right, it felt essential, like he would rather die than contemplate a life without her.
He still needed to speak to Margaret about coming on board as a full partner at The Five Sisters, but in his heart he knew she would welcome him. They’d buy more grapes, buy more land, and make their vineyard the finest in Pennsylvania. They’d distribute worldwide, host beautiful events, and grow their brand so that The Five Sisters was synonymous with the world’s best wines and a Greater Philadelphia destination for the finest events. He couldn’t wait. He’d finally found the key to his future, and he couldn’t wait for it to begin.
Glancing down at Margaret’s sleeping form, he dropped a tender kiss on her forehead and shimmied carefully out of bed, unwilling to wake her. She had to be exhausted after Sunday night’s work and last night with him. He grinned wickedly, thinking about the way she’d straddled his lap, wrapped around his body, filled with his hardness and begging for more. He’d used her body hard, but she’d met his hunger, his need, his demand. She’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her, and he’d loved the intimacy of their bodies joined together just as much as the mutual frenzy that had carried them there.
Kissing her once more, he forced himself up, stretched naked in the wide beam of light, and covered Margaret’s sleeping body with her comforter. After a quick shower, he ran outside to grab his overnight case and placed the FedEx box from Franklin on her kitchen table. He started the coffee machine before tiptoeing back upstairs to get his clothes.
“Cam?” she murmured, her voice breathy with sleep.
He sat on the bed beside her. “What, baby?”
“Why are you up already?”
He stroked the hair from her forehead and pressed feather kisses to her closed eyelids. “I’m used to walking up early. I’m going to go check out the tasting room. I’ll be back soon.”
“Mm-hm,” she sighed before rolling onto her stomach and falling back into a deep sleep.
He chuckled softly, beguiled by her in every way, then grabbed his shirt and slipped back downstairs to pour himself a mug of coffee. He walked outside into the cool July morning and made his way down the brambled path toward the winery and tasting room.
Shawn was right. The workers had made excellent progress this week.
The building was not only framed, but the roof had been covered with sheathing and felt, and the windows had been added within the frame. It reminded him of a picture he’d once seen of an Amish barn raising, and he mused that if a hundred Amish men could show up tomorrow, the whole building would likely be finished in a day. It was an enormous structure, but it would be filled with light, and as Cameron walked inside, he felt a profound sense of accomplishment and belonging.
For years he’d felt an emptiness working at C & C Winslow that was partially assuaged by the fact that he worked with his brother. But once Christopher had left the company, there was nothing that bound Cameron to the business on an emotional level. He didn’t like financial work. He didn’t see the beauty in it that someone like, say, Barrett English, saw.
But this? This big old barn that would host his sister’s wedding and stand firm and strong as a symbol of the days he fell in love with Margaret? This was something real. Something good. Something that made Cameron’s future look bright and feel exciting. And it occurred to him that he was finally building something. In the same way that C & C Winslow had been his father’s legacy, this place—The Five Sisters—could be his.
He turned back toward the cottage to freshen up his coffee when he heard two troubling noises: the first, a scream that ripped through his heart because Margaret’s voice was unmistakable, and the second, the sound of a motor tearing out of The Five Sisters road. Racing from the tasting room up to the dirt road, he arrived just in time to see a beat-up aqua pickup truck with Pennsylvania plates whoosh by and sail out the front gates.
Cameron sprinted back to the cottage, past the barrel shed, past the ferment shed, stopping with horror as he saw the front door of the cottage sitting wide open. Gasping for breath born of sprinting and panic, he rushed inside to find Margaret—his sweetheart, his love, his Meggie—sprawled on the floor between the kitchen and sitting room, her chestnut hair lying limp in a widening circle of her own blood.
***
Margaret’s eyes fluttered open slowly, but the small movement made her head throb so unmercifully, she couldn’t decide if it would be better to close them again. She chose to keep them open, a small whimper leaving her throat as her eyes focused.
She had no idea where she was, but through the dim light she could tell that the walls were a sea-foam green, and the steady sound of a mechanical beep somewhere near her ear reminded her of a hospital. Staring up at the ceiling, she blinked, causing another wave of pain so sharp, it made her stomach turn over.