The Prodigal Son

“Andrews combines sparkling dialogue with characters that have real depth.”

—RT Book Reviews

“Readers can always count on Beth Andrews to spin an empathetic tale with a loving happily ever after.”

—Cataromance

“Beth Andrews is an amazing writer and storyteller. I can’t wait to find another of her books to delve into.”

—Noveltalk

“If you haven’t read a book by Beth Andrews let me just say you’re missing out! She’s an author you must add her to your list.”

—Fresh Fiction

“I can only recommend Not Without Her Family whole-heartedly. It made me smile and cry—a wonderful comfort read and one I will definitely pick up again.”

—All About Romance

Dear Reader,

I’m fascinated by family dynamics, from the bond formed between a parent and a child, to the relationships between siblings. I love to see how those dynamics shift and change as marriages evolve out of that wonderful honeymoon stage into building a life, making a home and raising children together. How parents act with and react to their children during their many phases of growth. How families cope with milestones—both those small moments that seem to pass in the blink of an eye, to the larger, life-altering ones.

During the writing of this story, I went through one of those milestones. And while this event was, in the grand scheme of things, small and happy, it has changed the very dynamics of my household. My eldest child, my only son, started college six hundred miles away. One phase of our lives is over but a new phase of his life has just begun. And while I may mourn the ending, I’m proud and excited for my son’s new adventure.

Matt Sheppard experiences one of those life-altering changes in The Prodigal Son—though not by his own design. He’s quite happy with his life and has no intention of ever returning to his small hometown of Jewell, Virginia.

We all know what they say about the best of intentions.

Matt may not have planned on returning to Jewell, but by returning home he finds forgiveness, acceptance and, most important, love.

I love to hear from readers. Please visit my website, www.bethandrews.net, or write to me at P.O. Box 714, Bradford, PA 16701.

Happy reading!

Beth Andrews

Beth Andrews is a Romance Writers of America RITA^>® Award winner and Golden Heart winner. She lives in northwestern Pennsylvania with her husband and two teenage daughters. In her free time she visits wineries, drinks wine—both for research purposes, of course—and works on perfecting her recipe for crème brûlée. When not researching (or making fattening desserts) she can be found counting the days until her son returns from college. Learn more about Beth and her books by visiting her website, www.BethAndrews.net.

For Trevor.

My sincere gratitude to the wonderful women at Casa Larga in Fairport, New York, and Mitzi Batterson of James River Cellars Winery in Glen Allen, Virginia.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you’ve been offered a job?”

Though the words were said quietly, almost conversationally, eighteen-year-old Matt Sheppard knew better than to let his father’s mild tone fool him.

He was in trouble.

What else was new?

But at least it would be for the last time. The last time he had to stand before Tom Sheppard, stiff as a soldier in front of a four-star general, waiting for some form of discipline—or worse, one of his dad’s long-winded lectures.

Matt forced his shoulders to relax. “I was offered a job at a winery in Napa.”

What he left out was that he’d applied for said job. And a dozen others. Anything to get as far away from his hometown of Jewell, Virginia, and, more importantly, the Diamond Dust—his father’s beloved winery.

Tom took off his reading glasses and set them aside before slowly leaning back in his chair. His eyes—the same green as Matt’s—narrowed on his youngest son. King of his domain, Matt thought snidely. Never did his dad feel more self-important than when he was sitting behind his huge, mahogany desk in his oppressive office with its dark woodwork and leather furniture. Matt’s mother, Diane, stood to her husband’s right, a hand on his shoulder.

They were, as always, a unit. One entity. Usually against him.

He tried not to fidget even though his dad stared at him as if trying to read his thoughts. They’d arrived home twenty minutes ago from Matt’s high-school graduation. And while he’d exchanged his dress clothes for his normal outfit of cargo shorts and a T-shirt, his mom still had on her sleeveless blue dress, her long, blond hair held back in a sparkly clip. His dad’s tie was loose, his shirtsleeves rolled up. His suit coat hung over the arm of one of the matching chairs behind Matt.