Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

JESSICA

R egrets. I fucking hate them, and I’m sinking further into the deep abyss of my regrets with no sight of the light at the other end. Every decision I’ve made over the past five years suddenly feels like the wrong decision.

It started when my parents died. Then only got worse when my brother, Ryan, moved away to play baseball. To top things off, the love of my life married another woman. I turned my back on my small hometown in northern Montana, and poured all my energy into my outdoor clothing company. There wasn’t a lot left there for me anyway.

Now, I feel like I missed out on everything that was really important. I’m suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and loss.

Family is everything.

That’s what my daddy always said. Yet Ryan and I walked away from the last remaining relative we had—our Uncle Jimmy.

And now he’s gone, too.

He was found dead two days ago in his bed by one of the farmhands he’d hired to help with this season’s grape harvest. It kills me that he died alone. It shouldn’t have been like that.

All those ignored calls and broken promises about coming home for a visit come crashing down on me like a thick sludge of goo. I haven’t been home in five years, and it’s been at least a year since I returned one of my uncle’s calls. With his passing, the only family I have left is my brother. No other aunts or uncles. No cousins. No grandparents. Nobody.

Yeah, I’ve got regrets.

The spout cap to the tea kettle I put on the stove finally blows off with a loud clank, dragging me out of my thoughts. The whistle signaling the water is ready barely registered before the cap blew. Now that’s all I can hear, echoing in my aching head.

Rushing from my bedroom and into the kitchen, I quickly remove the kettle and turn off the stove. I developed a headache after I received the call about Uncle Jimmy, and it’s lingering, refusing to go away.

Our family’s lifelong attorney, Richard, was the one to call. His delivery of the news came across as cold and heartless. He doesn’t exactly have a gentle tone. He’s getting up there in age, and was always a little rough around the edges. It didn’t help that he and I never got along. I would’ve preferred anyone had called me but him.

Who else did I expect to call to tell me such news?

No one.

Because there is no one else to do such things.

Ryan and I are all Uncle Jimmy had.

I may not have visited in a long time, but just knowing Uncle Jimmy was there kept me connected to the place I’d once called home. Now that he’s gone, I feel like my lifeline has been severed, and my existence is slowly being drained out of me.

It’s an odd feeling, and I don’t really know how to describe what’s happening to me. My chest is tight, and my lungs feel heavy, like I can’t take in enough oxygen. I’m convinced that the only way to make all this go away is to be in Watercress Falls. Like somehow standing on my family’s land will reconnect me, and this heaviness will be lifted. Maybe then, I’ll be able to breathe normally again, and my headache will go away.

It hadn’t been my intention to build a life in Seattle. It was a temporary stopping point while I was in college. But when I finished school, I started a business. Once my company, Flathead Apparel, was up and running, I’d planned to move back to Watercress Falls and run it from home. It was my dream to take over the family business, Rush Creek Vineyard, while adding my own line of outdoor apparel to the mix.

But that takeover never happened. Fourteen years later, I still live in Seattle. The more time that passed, the easier it was to stay than to go home and face all that I’d lost.

How could I go home?

My parents died and the man who promised to marry me married another woman. Matthew broke my heart more than once over the years, but marrying someone else nearly destroyed me.

I shudder and pour the steaming water into a mug prepped with peppermint tea. The last person I want to see is Matthew, but going home makes that inevitable. I hope I’m ready for the onslaught of emotions that reunion will stir.

I head back to my bedroom to finish packing. My flight leaves before sunup tomorrow, and I still have work to finish before I leave. I don’t have time to allow Matthew to take up head space, so I do my best to lock him back up in the vaults of my mind.

I stop in front of the bedroom window of my downtown apartment to take in the setting sun. Seattle sunsets are stunning, and I chose this apartment for the views it offered. My loft takes up the entire top level of the small apartment building its in. From my living room, I can see Mount Rainier. Even the sunset reflecting off the mountain is a sight to see.

If I’m going to be stuck in the city, I might as well have scenery that reminds me of home. Stunning sunsets and ominous mountains. What’s not to love?

I take a sip of tea, and my phone rings. From the ring tone, I know it’s my right-hand man and senior vice president, David.

I grab the phone off my nightstand. “Hey, David. What’s up?”

“Are you packed?”

“Almost. Just a few last-minute things to get together.”

“Good. I’ve confirmed your flight. You should have a text message with your boarding pass. Just check your bags when you arrive, and you’ll be ready to go. I also reserved a car for you at the airport in Kalispell.”

Tears well up in my eyes again, and the throbbing pain behind my eye intensifies. “You didn’t have to do all that. I told you I’d take care of it.”

“I know you did, but it’s no problem.” His soothing voice is almost too much, and my tears break free. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”

I dry my cheeks and take a few deep breaths. “Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“I’m just being your friend, Jess.”

“And I appreciate that. More than you know.” I may not have much family left, but I lucked out in the friendship department when I met David in college. He and his wife, Blaire, are two of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I’m lucky to call them friends, and to have him working with me. “While I have you on the phone, can we talk about the marketing strategy for the new line? With needing to leave town, can you communicate my concerns and revisions?”

“Already done.” I heard the rustling of papers in the background. “I also took care of the charity donations and let them know you would no longer be able to speak at the fundraiser next weekend. They were disappointed, but they would love to have you speak at a future event.”

“Are you still in the office?”

“Yes.”

“David! Your wife is going to kill me.”

He laughs. “Blaire is fine. She sends her condolences. She also offered to care for your horse for however long you're gone.”

“That’s sweet of her, but I can’t ask her to do that. The stable manager will care for Flight.” Almost every weekend, I sneak out of the city to a small boarding stable about ten minutes outside Seattle to ride my horse, Flight. It’s the one joy I have in my life outside of work.

“Jess, you don’t have to ask. This is what friends do when tragedy hits. We help each other.”

“Thank you.” I struggle to fight back the tears again. David and Blaire truly are great friends. They were there for me five years ago when my parents died, same as they’re here for me now.

“Listen, Jess. Finish packing, try to get a good night’s sleep, and don’t worry about the company. You’ve created a well-oiled machine. I’ve got your back. I can handle everything in your absence. You be with your family.”

His last words break me. I know he didn’t mean for them to, but my tears flow down my face like a waterfall. “But that’s just it. I don’t have any family.”

He sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You and I both know family isn’t about blood. From what you’ve told me about that town, everyone there is family. They’ll be there to support you even if it has been years since you've been back. And as soon as you finalize the arrangements, Blaire and I will be there, too.”

“You’re right.”

“Ryan arrives the day after tomorrow. Let him help you.”

“I will.” I let out a deep sigh and slow my breathing. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control. I’ll try not to worry too much.”

“I know you still will, but I’m just a phone call away. Call if you need anything. That goes for Blaire, too.”

“Will do. Now go home to your wife. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

“Good night, Jess.”

“Night.”

Driving down Main Street of my hometown, everything looks the same, yet feels very different.

The buildings themselves haven’t changed, but some of the store fronts are new. It’s nearing the end of August which also means tourist season is at its peak. The crowded sidewalks indicate this season is just as busy as ever.

Come Friday, Main Street will shut down in the evening in preparation of the weekend festival. This town loves its summer festivals. The locals may argue they do it for the tourists, and while there’s truth to that, they organize them for themselves even more.

There’s not a lot to do in a small, remote town like Watercress Falls. The summer festivals give year-round residents a way to gather and socialize while also boosting local economy. It’s a win-win, really.

My family always ran a booth at these festivals as a way to attract visitors to the vineyard. I wonder if Uncle Jimmy kept that up. Now that he’s gone, who will continue in his place?

As I near the end of Main Street, I smile as the familiar sign for Sweet Cakes and Coffee comes into view. “Thank God, that hasn’t changed.”

Sweet Cakes has been in business for decades. New owners took over after I graduated high school—a woman and her husband a few years older than me. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like they changed it too much. I make a mental note to stop by while I’m in town.

Leaving Main Street, the road leads me toward the all too familiar mountain road that will take me to my childhood home. But it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I’d hoped being here would be enough to reconnect me to the place I once loved more than anything. But it isn’t. I feel like a stranger—an interloper. It’s a feeling I hate.

As I turn onto the last road that will take me to my family vineyard—or should I say my vineyard—I’m filled with a sense of longing.

Growing up, I spent countless days with our head vintner, Nick, learning everything there was to know about wine making. From cultivating the land to optimizing it for grape production to harvesting to processing to bottling. I’d wanted to know it all. This was supposed to be my future, after all. Not my past.

What started out as a side hustle to learn how to apply all the things I’d learned in college turned into a multi-million-dollar enterprise. My business success made it easy to stay away. That wasn’t what I wanted, though. Losing my parents too young was hard, but Matthew’s marriage to another woman made it impossible to come back.

When the first glimpse of the mountain behind my family vineyard comes into view, tears escape my eyes. I quickly wipe them away. There’s no time for tears right now. I can cry later when I’m alone in my house. If I walk into my meeting with Richard all teary-eyed and weak, he’ll likely try to take advantage of my emotional state and lead me to a decision I’m not ready to make.

I can’t let him do that.

I pull up in front of The Wine Room, the tasting bar that’s situated at the front of the winery. It looks the same as it always did. It’s a little run down and in need of a face lift. If I decide to sell it, I’ll have to invest some money into fixing this place up.

Not that I’m sure selling is an option I’m interested in exploring. Richard was pushing for that when he called. Whenever he got an idea in his mind, he pushed for it like it was the only option worth consideration. He means well, and he never did my family wrong. He just lacks tact and compassion. It’s partly why I never liked him. He’d just informed me my uncle died then expected me to make a decision about the property. Rational decisions aren’t something I’m going to be able to make anytime soon.

I step out of my car and breathe in deeply, filling myself with fresh mountain air. I’ve missed that local scent of clean pine and sweet grapes. It’s harvest time, and I can smell the newly picked grapes.

The main entrance door opens and Nick walks out with a welcoming smile. “Hey, Jessie Cat.”

I smile at my childhood nickname. No one has called me that since I left home. I used to hate it, mostly because of how it got started. I’ve always had a temper, but when I was six, Adam, our neighbors oldest son and Matthew’s brother, was picking on me. It was all in good fun, but I got upset. Instead of hitting him, I scratched his arm with my fingernails. He just laughed and called me Jessie Cat ever since. After a while, others started calling me that, too. Eventually, it grew on me.

He opens his arms for a hug and I rush to him, struggling with those damn tears again. “Nick, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too. I just wish you’d come home to happier circumstances.” Nick holds me tight. I forgot how good it feels to really be hugged. The last hug I had like this was five years ago under even worse times than now. “How you holding up?”

I bury my face in his chest, focus on slowing my breathing, and stopping these tears. “Oh, you know. I’ve been better.” I force a chuckle.

He pats my back, and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve no doubt about that.”

Nick’s a longtime family friend and has worked for the vineyard since my father took over management. Growing up, he was as much a father figure as my own dad. We stayed in touch the first few years after I left for college. But just like with everyone else from here, I distanced myself from our relationship after my parents died.

“Sorry we lost contact.” My voice gives away to my tears as my words crack and a sniffle escapes.

“None of that now.” He hugs me tighter. “I just wish I was the one to call you. I’m sure Richard wasn’t the most compassionate in his delivery. That’s something worth being sorry about.”

That brings out a smile. “Ain’t that the truth. If I’d been within arm’s reach of him when he told me, I might’ve knocked him in the head. He delivered the news like it was unimportant and went straight to talk about selling. Like I could even think about something like that right now.”

“Well,” Nick pulls back and holds me at arm’s length. He wipes an escaped tear from my cheek. “I imagine you might hear a lot of talk about selling property while you’re here. So be prepared.”

“I’m not sure anything can prepare me for that kind of talk. I know I haven’t been here for a while, but I love this land. I can’t imagine it not being a part of my family.”

Nick smiles and squeezes my shoulders. “I’m glad to hear you say that, but that doesn’t change the conversation Richard is ready to have with you. Just to warn you, he’s angry you're late.”

I roll my eyes. “Like I can control my flight. Besides, it’s only a few minutes after ten.”

“You know Richard. He’s waiting for you in the back office.”

I groan. It figures he’d be angry over a few minutes. Richard is the last person I want to talk to right now, angry or not. I’d rather open a bottle of wine with Nick and drink our sorrows away. “Do I have to?”

He chuckles. “Afraid so. Best to just get this conversation over with. Shouldn’t take him too long before he pisses you off anyway. I imagine you’ll be hightailing it out of that office in less than ten minutes.”

I put my hands on my hips and grin. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of hothead.”

“Well, if the shoe fits. Wear it with pride.”

Stepping inside The Wine Room is like stepping back in time. I’m flooded with memories from my childhood. I can see my younger self following Dad and Uncle Jimmy around like a shadow.

After a quick scan of the room, I’m pleased to see the inside isn’t as worn and outdated as the outside. Updating some of the decor and refinishing the floors and trim would make this place look pretty good.

My eyes are immediately drawn to the small booth in the back corner. Without thinking, my legs take me to it. I have so many memories in this booth. All of them shared with Matthew. I search the wood framing around the top edge, worn and defaced from years of people carving their names into it. My eyes find the one Matthew carved when we were fourteen. It’s starting to wear thin, but I can still make out the words clearly— Matt + Jess 4-ever .

I sat in the back booth waiting for Matthew to arrive. He was late and our ice cream was melting. I’d already taken a few bites, but I was trying to be nice and wait. If I ate too much of it before he arrived, he’d get mad.

Just as I started to pick up the spoon again, the front door opened. Matthew walked in and made a beeline for me. His smile was so huge. Any frustration I had with him for being late vanished. I instantly smiled. But then again, I always smiled around him. We’d been best friends ever since he came to live with the Langdon’s, my next-door neighbors. That was two years ago.

They were his foster parents now. He didn’t know who his birth father was, but his biological mother died of a drug overdose a few months after he came to live with them. He spent the next several months worried Rosie and Leo Langdon would send him away. Even now, at fourteen, he still worries about that.

“What’s with the smile?” I asked as he slid in beside me.

He didn’t answer me. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in for a tight hug. My heart immediately picked up speed and my breath caught in my throat. If he had any idea how his touch made me feel, he wouldn’t do that. I’d been in love with him ever since he stole my horse two years ago by the creek that separates my family’s property from the Langdon’s. But I’d been too scared to tell him.

He pulled back, his smile wide and a sparkle in his dark green eyes. His hand cupped my cheek, and I sucked in a breath. His smile slowly faded, and when his eyes shifted to my lips, I think my heart stopped beating. He’d never looked at me like that before.

“They adopted me, Jess.” His words dragged me out of my love-filled daze.

“What?” My hands rested on his arms, and he dropped his forehead to mine.

“It’s official. I’m now a Langdon. I never have to worry about leaving you. I’m staying forever.”

His lips touched mine before I could respond. It was just a light brush at first but when I didn’t pull away, he pressed his mouth to mine. Every inch of my body tingled, and my belly felt so light—like whatever was inside me could lift me up and fly away with me.

When he pulled away, I moaned in disappointment. I’d waited so long to kiss this boy, and now that it happened, I didn’t want it to stop.

“God, I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I met you. I hope this is okay.” He searched my eyes like he was trying to find the answer.

“It’s more than okay.” My reply came out breathy and heady. “I want you to do it again.”

And he did. This kiss lasted longer. He even teased my lip with his tongue, though I didn’t open my mouth to let him in. This was my first kiss, and I wasn’t sure about the whole tongue thing yet.

I felt his lips turn up into a smile before he sat back in the booth and watched me. “One of these days, I’m going to marry you, Jessica. You wait and see.”

He stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out his knife. Turning in the booth, he started carving into the wood like so many before him had done. “Matt, what are you doing? My dad is going to get mad. He hates that people do this.”

Matthew just grinned. “He can get mad all he wants. But I’m declaring my love to you right now and immortalizing it into this wood.”

“Okay,” I whispered. Because what else could I say? The boy I loved just kissed me and told me he’d marry me someday. It was everything I’d ever dreamed about since the day he entered my life.

“Jessica.” Nick’s voice drags me out of my memory. “Richard’s waiting.”

“Sorry, I’m coming.” I shake my head and push out the memories of Matthew. Nothing good will come from thinking about him anyway. Especially not my foolish childhood dreams. When I look up at Nick, the sadness in his eyes tells me he knows what I was reminiscing about. I sigh and head toward the back room.

When I reach my father’s old office, I find Richard sitting in his chair behind the desk. “Isn’t that my seat?”

Richard looks up at me with a scowl. “Figured it didn’t matter much. You’re selling this place anyway.”

“Don’t go assuming shit, Richard. You have no clue what I want.”

He lets out an angry grunt and points to the seat opposite him. “Sit, this shouldn’t take too long.”

Hoping he’s right about that, I sit down and wait for him to start.

“Your uncle’s wishes and the conditions of both his and your parents’ wills are simple. The entirety of the estate passes jointly to you and Ryan. That includes all financial holdings, the land, the business, and all that it entails, and the house. There should be no surprises there.”

“That sounds about right,” I confirm.

“Your uncle also asked for the funeral service to be held at Stocks and Stables, and that the entire town be invited.”

I chuckle. “That also sounds right.”

Stocks and Stables was his home away from home. The owner, Frank, was his closest living friend. And since he was called Uncle Jimmy by everyone in town, it only makes sense to hold his funeral reception there. It’s the only place I can think of that’s large enough anyway.

“Now, there is the business with the house, barn, and small piece of land surrounding it,” Richard continues.

“And what business is that? ”

He looks up at me with furrowed brows like I just asked a ridiculous question. “Your uncle’s plans to sell it.”

My anger spikes and I sit up straight, ready to launch myself across the desk and strangle Richard for even suggesting such a thing. “Over my dead body.”

“Your uncle was in negotiations to sell already. The contract was signed by the buyer last week. All we were waiting on was Jimmy’s signature. Would’ve been signed already had it not been harvest season. We expect you to honor your uncle’s agreement.”

I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. Selling the house is never something I’d considered. The business, maybe. The house, never.

“Who’s the buyer? Anyone I know?” Richard’s eyes shift to the doorway. I follow his gaze. My jaw drops in disbelief.

“Hey, Jess.” A very nervous Matthew stands in the doorway. His eyes never meet mine and are focused on his black Stetson in his hands.

“What’s he doing here?” The words come out with a growl. Matthew is the last person I want to see today.

“Well,” Richard starts, drawing my eyes back to him, “he’s the one buying the house.”