Page 3 of Vineyard Dreams

There was no husband, no local police officer waiting to come to her rescue.

But they didn’t need to know that.

Her thoughts drifted to Stephanie, the wife she had lost years ago. Stephanie would have appreciated the bluff, would have laughed at Elle’s quick thinking. The memory brought a bittersweet ache to her chest, a familiar mix of love and loss that never quite faded.

Elle climbed back into her truck, a wry smile playing on her lips. As she settled into the worn leather seat, her mind buzzed with curiosity.

How on earth had those photographers gotten the idea that Harper Reeves would be here, of all places? It was absurd, really. Her quiet corner of wine country was about as far from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood as you could get.

3

Harper pulled into the long windy driveway that lead to Rustic Foothills Vineyard. She stepped out of her sleek black Mercedes, the California sun warm on her skin as she surveyed the sprawling property before her. Rows of grapevines stretched out toward the horizon, but it didn’t take an expert’s eye to realize how unkempt the property was.

Two weeks had passed since she’d stood on that stage, clutching her Oscar, pouring her heart out to the world about the importance of Lena’s story and living authentically. The applause, the accolades, the media frenzy—it had all been a whirlwind, and Harper had found herself longing for a moment of peace, a chance to catch her breath.

She had been ready to escape, to lose herself in the streets of Europe for weeks, maybe even months, when her uncle’s call had changed everything. Three checks had already been written, desperate attempts to keep the vineyard afloat after her father’s passing all those years ago. But in a moment of impulsiveness, Harper had offered to buy it outright.

And so, she had come here, ready to turn her father’s business around. But as she took in the weathered buildings andthe overgrown vines, Harper realized the enormity of the task ahead.

The tasting room, once a hub of activity and laughter, now stood silent and dated. The production facilities, too, bore the marks of time and neglect, crying out for modernization and care.

But amidst the challenges, Harper saw potential. She envisioned the vineyard coming back to life, the grapevines heavy with fruit, the tasting room bustling with visitors eager to sample the fruits of her labor. It would take work, dedication, and a willingness to embrace change, but Harper was ready.

She pushed down the urge to call her uncle and demand an explanation. How could he have let this place waste away? How could he have left out those details when she’d offer to buy it? But at the end of the day, it was her fault for not coming out here first, for not asking more questions.

Harper made her way back to the main house, her mind still reeling from the enormity of the task she had taken on. The vineyard now lay in disrepair, a shadow of its former self.

As she stepped into the quiet stillness of the house, Harper felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. The familiar scent of aged wood and the views from the kitchen overlooking the vineyard transported her back to childhood summers spent running through the vineyard, her laughter echoing through the rows of grapevines. She could almost hear her father’s voice, deep and warm, guiding her through the intricacies of winemaking.

Lost in her memories, Harper nearly jumped when a sudden knock shattered the silence. Her heart raced as she stared at the door, wondering who could possibly be visiting the secluded property. She hesitated for a second. Hopefully, it was just a curious neighbor, drawn by the sight of an unfamiliar car parked outside.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Harper moved towards the door, her footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay on the other side.

With a soft click, Harper turned the knob and pulled the door open, her eyes widening as they fell upon the person standing before her.

Harper’s breathcaught in her throat as she took in the sight of the woman before her. Chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that radiated warmth and confidence. Hazel green eyes locked onto Harper’s, and she felt a flutter of recognition in her chest. This woman knew who she was.

Before Harper could find her voice, the stranger spoke. “I’m looking for Daniel.”

Harper blinked, caught off guard. “He’s not here. He actually left.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Well, I guess that explains things.”

Confusion swirled in Harper’s mind. She tilted her head, studying the woman’s face. “What do you mean?”

“My name’s Elle,” the woman said, her voice smooth. “I own the neighboring vineyard. There were paparazzi parked outside my property yesterday. Looking for Harper Reeves.”

Harper’s stomach dropped. She’d hoped to keep a low profile, to escape the relentless attention that had followed her since the Oscar win. But it seemed her presence had already caused a stir. She swallowed hard, guilt and embarrassment mingling in her chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Harper said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How did they find me so quickly?” she asked, thinking out loud.

Elle’s expression softened when Harper met her eyes. “They seemed to think that they’d find you at my house, but I told themthat you weren’t here. I couldn’t understand why they thought that, but it turns out they weren’t too far off. They just had to drive another few hundred yards up the road.”

Harper raked a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you had to deal with them.”

“It’s fine. I think I might have convinced them not to come back, but we’ll just have to wait and see.” Elle’s gaze flickered past Harper to the house behind her. “Did you say Daniel left, as in… Moved?”

Harper nodded. “I’m his niece.”

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