Chapter 18The next day, Joe drove us upstate to the vineyard that was for sale. The owner of Woodridge Winery hadn’t listed his property yet, but I’d learned from word-of-mouth. He hadn’t stopped production this year so he could sell his property as a working vineyard. As we pulled into the property we looked around. There must have been five or six fields of grapevines, a large house, and two major buildings where work was being done.
As we got out of the car, an older man walked out of the house.
“Hello!” he called. “Ms. Weldon?”
“That’s me,” I said offering my hand. “This is my associate, Danica Forrester.” They shook.
“William Woodridge, at your service. This is a good day to look around,” he said. “The sun is just right to make the grapes sparkle.”
“They’re not ready yet, are the
