She stood taller, her eyes and nose still red, but her grin genuine. “I’d love that, Henry. When can I start?”

“How about right now? Want to learn how to prune these vines?”

“Yes! Show me!”

“Okay, so watch and listen carefully.” Turning toward the plants, I gave her a look over my shoulder. “This is an art form, you know.”

She actually laughed. “Go on.”

“So the vines are dormant right now. The buds are alive, but they’re basically sleeping, so now is when we want to go through and choose the ones we think have the best shot.”

“Why not leave them all?” she wondered. “Wouldn’t that give you the most fruit?”

I shook my head. “The vine will be more productive if you prune it the right way than if you just leave everything. We want to concentrate the energy of the vines into the buds we select.”

“Got it.”

I forced myself to focus on teaching her the task at hand, rather than on her nearness, the scent of her hair, the adorable way she held the tip of her tongue between her teeth in concentration when she was clipping a shoot.

“Like that?” she’d ask, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Perfect. Try this one now.”

We spent almost two perfect hours working side by side that afternoon. She listened attentively, asked smart questions, and learned fast. I was in heaven—no one had ever been so interested in what I did out here. And each time she smiled or laughed, my heart would quicken in my chest.

But eventually, she said she should probably head back home to start Sunday dinner. “The kids start school tomorrow,” she told me, handing the shears back. “I want to make sure they get a good meal and a good night’s rest.”

“Of course. That’s a big day for them.” I hesitated. “I’m not sure I want to know the answer to this, but do they hate me?”

“Of course not.” She put a hand on my arm. “They both like you, Henry—that’s not the problem.”

I nodded. “Tell them I said to have a great first day.”

“I will, thanks.” She glanced around. “It’s starting to get dark. How much longer will you work?”

“I’m about done. I’ll walk back with you.”

We headed down the row in the direction of the winery. “Keaton is still really interested in that boxing gym,” she said as she walked close beside me. “Do you think you could text me the name and location?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. I want to get him involved in something physical right away. Did I tell you the therapist Frannie recommended called back? I was able to get appointments for the kids in two weeks, right before our ski trip. Then right after that I leave for California to pack up the house.”

“You’ve got a lot going on.”