“She isn’t mine to lose.”
“She should be.”
He opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. “Why are you pushing this?” he asked instead. “You don’t even like the Spencers.”
“That’s not true.” Jana crossed her arms over her chest. “Vivian Spencer is a bully and always has been. I don’t care for her, but the rest of the family... They’re good people.”
“Even Morgan?”
“Those who live in glass houses...” his mom said gently and shame winged through Griffin. He’d been the king of adolescent stupidity in his time. “Morgan is a careless teenager who made a careless mistake. I don’t think it means she’s a terrible person. Maggie... Well, I’ll admit I was upset with how things ended between her and your brother.”
Griffin dropped the hammer to one of the sawhorses and tapped a finger on his chin, as if contemplating her words. “I’m fairly certain you had visions of tackling her to the ground and clawing out her eyes.”
“Always with the sass.” She shook her head. “I see now that the match never would have worked. Trevor...” She paused. “Your brother has done an amazing job with the Harvest brand. But he has bigger dreams than Stonecreek. I don’t want this life to limit him.”
“He made the choice to come back after college,” Griffin pointed out. “Dad made him the heir apparent. Trevor loves that.”
“Trevor feels loyal because of that,” she corrected. “It isn’t the same thing. The vines aren’t in his blood.”
Griffin frowned as he thought about that. He’d never considered what it meant that his brother didn’t feel the same way about the vineyard as he did. He was too busy being angry that Dad had chosen Trevor as his favorite and all but told Griffin he wasn’t worthy to be a part of the family legacy.
“Anyway,” his mom continued, “you’ve done an amazing job here and—”
“Was Dad my real father?” he blurted.
Jana’s face paled and her eyes widened. “What would make you ask such a thing?” she asked in a choked whisper.
He wanted to close his eyes against the pain he saw in her gaze but forced himself not to look away. He favored his mother’s family in looks, the green eyes and olive-toned skin, whereas Trevor was the spitting image of their father. Griffin hadn’t thought much about it as a kid, but as he’d grown older and his relationship with Dave Stone had deteriorated, he’d begun to question why his dad had seemed so unwilling to love him.
“He never liked me,” he said and his mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I just thought...if there was an explanation like—”
“You were his son,” she said flatly. “His biological son.”
“Huh.” Disappointment and relief flooded Griffin in equal measure.
“Oh, Griffin.” His mom moved forward, coming around the sawhorses to wrap her arms around him. “I’ve made my share of mistakes in life, and it kills me that you paid the price.”
“What mistakes?” He pulled back to look at her. “If there wasn’t another man...”
Jana wiped at her cheeks and sniffed.
“Mom, don’t cry.”
“It’s fine,” she told him, taking a step away. “I’m fine. But there was another man. A boy, really. We were so young, and I was in love. My family had moved here the summer before my senior year so my dad could take a job as a field hand. We were struggling, and Dad tended to be a messy drunk when he got down about our situation. We weren’t exactly good stock.”
“That’s not how I remember Pops,” Griffin argued.
“He cleaned himself up,” she said with a nod. “But back then, it was bad.” She smiled at him. “It’s why I’m so proud of how you’ve taken Cole under your wing. I wish I’d had someone like you in my life.”
“You had Dad.”
Her smile turned wistful. “Yes, I suppose I did, but it cost both of us. I’d been in love with someone else when I first met your father. The relationship didn’t work out.”
She looked so sad as she spoke the words. Outrage flared in Griffin at the thought that someone had hurt his mother. “Why?”
“It was complicated,” she said, laughing softly. “I started dating your dad right after we broke up. Things progressed quickly.” She shook her head. “I was on the rebound and we both knew it. He didn’t care because we were having fun. Then I got pregnant.”
“Did Dad think I wasn’t his?” Griffin asked, his mouth dry.
“No, but I’m not sure we would have lasted without a reason to get married. Your father and Trevor had a lot in common. He had big dreams. Staying in Stonecreek wasn’t part of his master plan, but with a wife and a baby... I didn’t leave him with a lot of options.”
“He shouldn’t have blamed you,” Griffin argued. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to get pregnant.”
Her gaze, which had always been the steadiest thing in his world, faltered. “I wanted a baby,” she whispered. “I wanted something that belonged to me. Someone who couldn’t leave me. Like I said, I was young and selfish, not thinking beyond what would make me happy.” She looked up, her eyes bright with another round of tears. “You made me so happy.”
“Dad didn’t feel the same way.”
Her mouth tightened into a thin line. “It all worked out. He inherited the farm and planted the vines. Actually, he had you and me to thank for that.”
“How do you figure?”
“Your dad had saved enough money when I met him to go backpacking through Europe before he started college in the fall. He dropped out of school to get a job when I got pregnant and used the money for a down payment on the first house we bought. But when his dad died, we sold that house and moved here. I insisted he take the money and go to Europe. He came up with the idea for converting the farm to a vineyard in Italy.”
Griffin laughed without humor. “Did he ever thank you for that? Because I don’t remember his gratitude.”
“It was there.” Jana sighed. “He loved you in his own way.”
“Just not the same way he loved Trevor,” Griffin said, embarrassed that even as a grown man he still felt the lack of it.
“He’d be proud of who you’ve become.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Griffin said, although he wasn’t convinced. At least he understood where his dad’s animosity had come from, although the reason behind it was bogus.
She hugged him again. “Maybe you should ask Maggie to the gala.”
“I wasn’t planning on—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said, squeezing his arms as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re going. You’ll wear a tux. You’ll dance and make nice with people. And you’ll like it.”
“I won’t like it.”
“Fine. You don’t have to like it, but it would mean a lot to me if you attended.”
“Fine,” he agreed. “I’m glad you’re having fun with this, Mom. It suits you.”
“It does.” She winked. “Back to work now. We’re close, but the tasting room has to be perfect.”
“It will be.”
“I know,” she said as she walked away, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I trust