Helena,” Abby said, standing near Tanner’s truck, staring out at the hundreds of acres of gently rolling fields covered in bright orange poppies and giant oak trees. The scent of dry grass and grapes from a few wild vines growing nearby permeated the air as their purple fruit swayed gently in the early evening breeze. It was beautifully serene and she should have felt calm, at peace even, but after two torturous days of waiting for this moment, her body was vibrating with anticipation. She inhaled deeply and eyed Tanner out of the corner of her eye, trying to force herself to stay here, in the present with him. “Technically we’re just outside the city limits, but it is still zoned for St. Helena schools and utilities.” Which would be an important selling point if Tanner Construction built homes up here. St. Helena wasn’t just known for its wine, but also its education system. The top selling point, Abby thought as she walked around the front of the truck to look over the edge of the mountain, would be the view.
