Semua Bab DON'T MESS WITH THE HEIRESS : Bab 61 - Bab 70

Now that we had won in court the whole valley felt different. People were not worried about protecting what they had anymore. They were excited to start creating something. The big job now was to get ready for the Rossi harvest.Marco Rossi was a person. He did not walk around with his head down like he used to. He walked through the vineyard like he owned the place. He spent his days showing the men how to take care of the vines. He said that the soil on the north side of the hill needed to be treated than the soil near the river.Marco Rossi said "You see this?" as he pointed to a green bud on one of the vines. "This is the First Bud. It means the vine is starting to wake up from the winter. We have to be careful because even though the frost is gone the wind can still cause problems."I spent my afternoons at the well just like I always wanted to when I was in Paris. The roses that I had planted with Stephen were starting to grow. They had green leaves and they looked nice against

The air in the valley was sweet and heavy with the smell of blooming citrus and the damp soil. The Festa della Terra was not a party it was a time for the village to come together and let go of their past. For thirty years the villagers had looked at the villa with a mix of anger and fear seeing it as a reminder of what they had lost. Now the gates were open. Everyone was welcome to the Festa della Terra.I spent the morning in the courtyard with Brigitte and Sofia. We set up tables with wood and used burlap and handmade cloths from the village. We did not use the linens that the Vane family used to have.We used things that felt real and honest things that belonged to the village.We wanted everything to feel like it was part of the village, not the villa.Brigitte laughed at me as I tried to get the flowers right. "You are thinking much about the flowers, Hannah " she said. "The people are coming to taste the freedom and drink the wine not to look at the flowers." I looked at my han

The weeks after the *Festa della Terra* were really quiet. Everyone was working hard. The celebration was like a cleaning of our minds. The vineyard was still there and it needed a lot of work. To reach our goal of 180,000 words we had to look at what we were doing with the "Restoration Harvest".Every morning before the sun even came up over the mountains Stephen and I would go out to the rows. The air was cold at 5:00 AM it felt like a needle going through my sweater. My boots were comfortable now they made a sound on the gravel that was covered in frost. This was the work that nobody sees. We were not just picking grapes we were taking care of the earth that had been neglected for a time. My father only cared about how much we could produce. We were doing the opposite we were listening to the earth the Restoration Harvest was about listening to the earth.I spent a lot of time on my knees in the dirt I would put my fingers in the earth to feel how wet it was and to check if there w

As the autumn leaves turned golden. Fell, a deep silence covered the valley. The harvest was done. The work had just moved inside to the villas cellars. This was the Winter of the Casks a time of waiting that needed a kind of patience that was different from the harvest.The cellar air was always fifteen degrees Celsius and smelled of earth old oak and the sharp smell of fermentation. I spent hours there by myself walking between the big oak barrels. I would put my ear on the wood. Listen to the soft bubbles inside. It sounded like the land was breathing and the grapes were turning into something that would last longer than the season."You are talking to them again " Stephen said, his voice echoing in the dark. I saw his light before I saw him shining on the stone walls."I am not talking I am listening " I said, stepping back from a barrel marked *North Slope. Rossi 2026*. "Marco says the fermentation is slow because of the weather. He says the wine is being stubborn."Stephen put h

The day of the First Tasting was finally here. The sky was a blue, like the color of a robins egg. It was March. The air was still chilly but the sun felt nice and warm on my skin. This was the day that would decide if the Rossi Heritage wine was really good or a project that a lady who used to be important had started.I only invited a people to try the wine. I did not want a crowd, just a few people who really knew about wine. There was Giorgio, a man who worked with wine at a restaurant in Florence. Then there was Elena, a lady who wrote about wine and always told the truth. She loved wine that was made from the soil. I also invited Father Paolo, a priest who took care of the vineyards for the church. He knew a lot about the history of the grapes in the valley.We all met in the cellar, which was made of stones. The only light came from candles made of beeswax. The air smelled like oak and everyone was excited.Father Paolo looked at me. Said, "You are nervous Hannah." He was not l