Entangled (A Tangle Valley Romance #1) - Melissa Brayden

Prologue

It was the kind of night that just stuck with you, where everything was relaxed but important at the same time. Autumn had just kicked into gear in Whisper Wall, Oregon, and the leaves blew and tussled, bouncing along on the sidewalk. Inside the Big House on the grounds of Tangle Valley Vineyard, Josephine Wilder poured herself a glass of red and one for her father, Jack, who sat on the edge of his worn-in leather armchair, strumming his guitar like it was a part of him. He’d been playing that thing since Joey was small, but only pulled it out once or twice a month these days, as the vineyard kept him so busy. Joey had pulled her somewhat wavy blond hair into a ponytail earlier that evening before walking down the road, from her private cottage to the Big House where her father lived.

The two of them had dinner together once a week to chat about life and the vineyard operations, and to enjoy a good glass of wine from the vines just yards away. She looked forward to these dinners. The routine centered Joey. With her dad’s famous pot roast now wrapped up in the fridge, the dishes neatly rinsed in the sink, they could relax for a bit before Joey headed home and geared up for another day of work in Tangle Valley’s tasting room the next morning, when they’d open at ten a.m. sharp for visitors. They were getting closer and closer to this year’s harvest, and things were a little hectic with everyone pulling longer hours to pitch in. As the winemaker at Tangle Valley, Jack worked harder than anyone, doing everything in his power to ensure the best wine possible came out of their vineyard that year. It was just as much instinct as it was science, but he had the perfect combination of both, which made him not only successful but decorated. Recently, he’d been diligently testing the sugar levels of the grapes out on the vine to determine the right time to pick. Given, the juice wouldn’t see a bottle for a couple of years, but what they did now would heavily influence the final product.

“Hey, Jo, what do you think of this one?” her father asked with a gleam in his eye as he began to strum. She immediately recognized the opening chords of “Rainbow Connection” and smiled. He used to play the song for her when she was a kid and couldn’t fall asleep. It never failed to grab her heartstrings and give them a good nostalgic tug.

“Now if we could only get Kermit to sing along,” she said, in a nod to her favorite rendition. Her heart squeezed with a familiar pang. She had a few memories of her mother holding her in her lap as her father serenaded them. They were hazy and maybe embellished by how often she pulled them out, but they were there.

That was Jack’s cue to toss in a few wildly off-key vocals that were so cringeworthy Joey laughed instead. The best part? As he continued to play, he laughed right along with her. She loved his happy face. Round, with pink cheeks. His eyes always got so small when he smiled that they were almost slits. Jack Wilder certainly knew how to enjoy life, and Joey reminded herself that she needed to steal a page from his book and work on having more fun, which was easier said than accomplished.

“How was business today?” he asked as he played. Joey was Tangle Valley’s tasting room manager, a job she absolutely adored. She’d started off pouring wine as soon as she was eighteen and legal to do so and had slowly taken over that part of the business. Sure, she pitched in elsewhere on the vineyard wherever was needed and had some big ideas about where they could take the place next, but her dad didn’t often listen. He cared a lot less about the business side of things and preferred instead to make wine, spend time with his friends, and strum his guitar. As the official owner, having inherited the place from his parents, Jack preferred to keep things as they were. Easier that way. He wasn’t a risk taker, and that philosophy had served him well. He enjoyed his life as it was, even if that drove Joey a little crazy, imagining all that could be. She, however, came with an ambitious streak. Full of thoughts, plans, and ways to implement them.

“Slow morning,”