As the sun began to rise, the flagrant destruction became increasingly apparent. What was once noted as one of the finest wineries in the world had now been reduced to piles of smoldering rubble.

Amelia's usual cheery demeanor had been replaced with deep sorrow; her eyes heavy and her skin sallow from both the lack of sleep and constant tears. She had tried to hide this with the application of spun powder and a touch of mascara, but to no avail.

Roman stood silent at the window; his statuesque presence filled the room. He contemplated what they would do? How had this happened? These questions plagued his very soul.

A knock from the door jolted them back to reality. The families' winery was no more. The second knock was even sharper.

"Hello, Mr. Cole. Please come right in," Amelia said politely, as if to mock him for his own aggressive behavior.

"Mr. Cole, I assume you are here to rescind your offer. I don't believe we have anything left to offer."

"No Sir, I am here to offer my condolences."

The estate owned by the Massimo family covered over three hundred and sixty acres. Three hundred of those acres were the finest grapes in the world. These majestic beauties had once again won first place in the International Winery Association competition. The second place title had been given to the Constance family. They were third generation wine makers and from the very same region. Taking second place for the third year in a row had been more than a little unsettling. The Constancies made their move. They had desired control of the entire valley.

Roman and Amelia had inherited the family estate and it now appeared they had also inherited its problems as well. Only yesterday they had signed a contract allowing the Constance family to harvest their fall crop. This one time harvest would generate enough money to pay the enormous estate taxes and allow them to keep the estate. One season surly wouldn't hurt business too badly. They still had the remains of the cellars and that would tide them over for this season. The estate would still be theirs ; with only ten days till the taxes were due there simple was not other choice.

"Thank you for your interest, Mr. Cole" Romans voice dripped with sarcasm. "Amelia and I had had an unusually long night."

"Of course Sir, just one last thing. The check. You didn't have time to cash it did you? I will take it back and we'll be finished here." "Take your check! Amelia screamed aloud. I should have expected you or any of those people to care anything about our vines!"

"Ma'am, I assure you the Constance family shares our grief, but they can't be expected to pay for the vines that burned last evening."

"Take your check; get out now!" Amelia's heart had reached its breaking point. She sobbed mightily as she her head on Romans shoulder. The insurance adjuster would be arriving soon.

"Perhaps you would like to lie down a minute. I will wake you when he gets here." Roman gently urged Amelia up the stairs.

The iron gates opened for the car to pass through, pausing only brief enough to receive instructions on how to get to the main house entrance. The T.V. and radio station crews grew increasingly restless with the lack of information regarding last night's fire. The locals all knew the oldest strains of vine in the region were located here and everyone feared they might be destroyed. The Massimo family had not responded to their flux of media calls and the media now resorted to standing guard outside their gated entrance anxiously awaiting word.

The farm hands were digging franticly, looking for any signs of life in the smoldering fields. Joseph, the grounds supervisor, walked quickly toward the door, something clutched tightly in his hands. Joseph had been the gardener on the estate for more than twenty years. He had been a guest at many Sunday diners at the Massimo table throughout his years of service.

This fragile man appeared nervous and began to explain about the rusty key presented to Roman. As Joseph recounted the mystery of the rusty old key Amelia's ashen face appeared stunned.

Nearly eleven years ago when I moved into the gardeners' quarters, your father had given me permission to plant my own private garden. That included all the standard varieties of vegetables but Master Massimo had also jut completed his final pruning for the season, so I decided to keep a sampling of each. At the time it was a mere six plants, but after the past eleven years the last count was about sixty four vines. "Where are you going?" shouted Amelia

Roman grazed his shoulder on the door frame as her push past the crowd. He began to run the entire length of the drive. The media noticed the action and immediately began clicking away at the family as they all followed Roman. After fumbling with the key, he threw open the gate to the grounds keepers home. As he drew a deep breath he surveyed the most heavenly sight. They were flawless row after row of grape laden vines. Their tender heads turned upward worshipping the almighty sun, untouched by last night tragedy. Roman turned to see Joseph and Amelia standing in the gates, tears of joy cascading down their cheeks. Roman stood proudly at the head for the dinning room table. Everyone knew what the future held, another successful winemaking year. Cheers! Not only to the forces of nature, but to the nature of the family.