Holiday Romance Boxset E-Book

Race Lucinda

• Herausgeber: MC Two Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Award winning and best selling author Lucinda Race presents this 6 book holiday romance series.

Enjoy this sweet with a touch of heat holiday romance collection of xi books that includes firefighters, hockey players and later in life love stories, Each book has a guaranteed happily ever after. 

Leseprobe

HOLIDAY ROMANCE BOXSET

CONTEMPORARY HOLIDAY ROMANCE

LUCINDA RACE

MADDIE JAMES

MC TWO PRESS

CONTENTS

Sugar Plum Inn

Christmas in July

Holly Berries and Hockey Pucks

Holiday Heart Wishes

A Secret Santa Christmas

Shamrocks Are a GIrl’s Best Friend

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About the Author

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2024 Lucinda Race

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Author Lucinda Race.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Boxset Edition July 2024

E-book ISBN 978-1-954520-93-6

DEDICATION

For my Daddy

This book is in honor of my grandparents, Dorcas and Edgar:

Who at the turn of the 20th century found a way to communicate, fall in love and have a family as a hearing woman and deaf man.

Love always finds a way…

SMALL TOWNS ARE THE BEST

BY ROBERT FRANKLIN KAHLSTROM - 5/17/32- 8/4/98

Some folks think that just because

They live in a place like Boston

That they can’t come to Brownington

And visit us very often.

But if they ever come up

I can’t see the reason

They would hustle back to Boston

In the middle of the season.

Now, Brownington sits upon a hill,

Upon the very top,

If you ever drive up there

Please don’t forget to stop.

To see the beautiful trees and mountains,

The downward fall of leaves as they come swirling slowly floating on the breeze.

The little birds singing in the trees

Their beautiful songs of old as they ready to go south

When winter comes, so cold.

So if you ever come up here and stretch your arms in zest

I think you will say to yourself,

That small towns are the best.

Thank you for purchasing Sugar Plum Inn. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. So, turn the page and fall in love in with your new favorite characters.

If you’d like to stay in touch, consider joining my Newsletter. I release it twice per month with tidbits, recipes and an occasional a special gift just for my readers. https://lucindarace.com/newsletter/ and there is a free book when you join! Happy reading…

1

QUICK NOTE: If you enjoy these holiday stories, be sure to check out my offer for a FREE Price Family novella at the end. With that, happy reading!

* * *

Dora Bennett pulled off onto the shoulder of the dirt road, clutching the wobbling steering wheel. Her tire was thumping and she was far enough over so even a farm tractor could safely drive past. It amazed her that dirt roads were still commonplace in northern Vermont and now she was stuck, with snow in the forecast and temperatures dropping. She looked at the time on the dash. Soon it would be dark. What else could go wrong? She withdrew her cell and no surprise—no service. At least someone would be looking for their chef at the Sugar Plum Inn and Cottages especially since they had ten reservations for dinner. In spite of the circumstances, she grinned. It wasn’t too shabby given it was mid-December.

She got out of the brick-red pickup truck and glanced back at the two Christmas trees. They hadn’t moved in the wood-lined bed, so she was pretty sure the thumping was a flat tire. She glanced at the rear tire and on the driver’s side, and it was flat as a pancake. Slamming the driver’s door, she noticed the front tire was in the same condition. She jammed her hands in her coat pockets. She regretted not grabbing her gloves, but this was supposed to be a quick trip to pick up the trees from the general store just a couple of miles up the way on Peen Hill Road. She shivered and zipped her down coat up to her throat and pulled the bright-red cap lower on her head. The inn was only a couple of miles and she could walk.

Grabbing her wallet and phone off the passenger seat, she left the keys in the ignition. No one was going to want to steal something with two flats, especially out here. All the locals knew where to find the owners. After all, the inn had been open for well over one hundred years.

After walking for about ten minutes, a black SUV driving in her direction slowed to a stop. The window slid down and a heart-stoppingly handsome man leaned out. Dora couldn’t help but notice his copper-colored eyes enhanced by smile lines in the corners, framed with longish wavy black hair and a touch of gray at his temples.

“Are you okay?”

His voice was deep and even-toned. Dora wanted to ask if she looked okay; she was tromping through the growing darkness in tennis shoes and definitely not properly dressed for exercise in the freezing temperatures. But the snarky comment died on her lips when she noticed the puppy bouncing in a crate on the back seat.

“Cute pup.” The sweet face tugged at her heartstrings. He looked just like Bruno when he was a pup. It had been a few months since her beloved lab had passed away. Even Oscar missed the big lug.

He smiled. “Thank you. I’m just making a delivery for a friend. I was headed up here to spend a few days at a local inn and they asked if I’d drop him off.”

She shifted from one foot to the other, her toes frozen and the cold seeping into her bones. “You should drive careful. There are some wicked potholes up ahead.” She bobbed her head in the direction she had just come. “I hit two craters and now I’m hoofing it.”

“Where are you headed? I can give you a lift, or better yet I can change the tire for you.”

His eyes never left her face. Under other circumstances, that would have been odd, but here it seemed like he was just paying close attention. That was all Dora needed to do, hop in a car with a stranger. Her mom had drilled that into her head—never take a ride from someone she didn’t know. She held back a laugh. It was just one of the tidbits of sage advice Mom had given her over the years, and if she were here, she would say most of that advice had fallen on deaf ears, especially packing up and moving to the great Northeast Kingdom. At least now she was running her own kitchen at an inn and it overlooked a huge lake. The only thing she hadn’t expected was how much snow fell up here. It was more than she’d ever seen in her life.

She glanced at the clouds that obscured what was left of the sun. Just her luck it would start snowing sooner as opposed to later.

“Thanks. I don’t have much farther to walk, and besides, I have two flats, not one.”

He pointed to the passenger seat. “Hop in. It’s cold out. And if you say it’s not far, then you won’t have to ride with me for that long.” He crossed his hand over his chest. “I promise I’m a nice guy. Heck, if my friends were here, they could give me a character reference, or better yet my mother.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. He was trying to charm her right into the SUV. “Thanks anyway, really. If I get going, I’ll be back at work in less than thirty minutes, and then I can send a truck out to get the tires changed.” She was a little tempted to get in, if nothing else than to snuggle the puppy in the back seat.

He shrugged his shoulders. “If you’re sure I can’t convince you?”

She could hear the question linger in his statement. She pointed down the road in the direction she’d come. “Like I said, watch the potholes and good luck delivering the pup.”

“I appreciate the heads-up. You be safe walking. If you try singing or something just to let the beasties know you’re out here, they should give you a wide berth.”

“Are you trying to insinuate I might not be a good singer?” She couldn’t believe she was standing in the middle of a dirt road almost flirting with a complete stranger.

“Not at all. I’m just suggesting you make some noise, and singing is a good way to do that, so if by some slim chance a human hears you, they won’t think you’re nuts for talking to yourself.”

She laughed. “Good point, Mr.?”

He stuck his hand out the window. “Charlie Ward.”

Her gloveless hand warmed in his and a small zing raced up her arm. “Dora Bennett. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

She withdrew her hand, even if she didn’t want to, and gave him a bright smile. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around if you’re staying in the area for a few days.” Fat chance. She never saw anyone except her coworkers, guests at the inn, or her cat Oscar.

His smile grew wider and it warmed his eyes. “Now, that would be a wonderful treat. You take care now.”

The SUV eased away and she picked up her pace as she headed down the road. She glanced over her shoulder as he rounded the bend and disappeared from sight. “He’s the best-looking guy I’ve seen since I moved up here.”

She pulled her hat lower over her ears and jammed her fists deeper in her pockets. She was going to have to leave her place with more supplies if she was to survive a Vermont winter. Movement in the tree line made her pick up the pace, and she started to sing the first song that popped into her head, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.”

Charlie looked in his rearview mirror as Dora Bennett broke into a light jog. He hated to leave her on the side of the road, but he understood the whole woman getting into a strange man’s vehicle thing, and it wasn’t the best idea. She sure was pretty with her heart-shaped face, long dark hair, and soft-brown eyes. But it was when she caught sight of the pup that her face softened and a twinkle appeared. Puppies had a way of doing that and this little guy was no exception. Charlie needed to drive just another half hour, and then he could turn around and find the Sugar Plum Inn where he would be staying for a few days before heading home. He needed to write a review on the inn. As an anonymous inn reviewer, he often checked in under the guise of a writer off for a weekend retreat of writing. This way it was expected he’d be taking notes and observing details of his surroundings. He did enjoy his job but at this time of year he’d rather be home with his family, spoiling his nieces and nephews, baking cookies, and getting ready for the holidays.

He looked in the rearview mirror and could see the pup was barking. He was one smart dog if he was already asking to go potty. Charlie pulled over to the side of the road, being careful he didn’t end up with the same fate as Dora. Flat tires would definitely slow down this delivery and the pup’s new family was anxious to meet their fur baby.

He hopped out and picked up the pup, nuzzling him close to his chest and inhaling the sweet puppy breath before clipping his leash on and giving him a couple of minutes to sniff around and do his business.

After a few minutes the pup was finished and Charlie praised him, rewarding him with a tiny treat, then he held him close to warm him up. One of these days he was going to get his own pup, but that was a long way off. He needed to stop traveling all the time. It wouldn’t be fair to him or a dog to adopt one now.

He secured the puppy back in the crate and glanced at the dash clock. With any luck he’d have time to settle into his room and still make his dinner reservation at the inn.

His hand was on the shifter when he paused. Dora had mentioned something about an inn. Could she be affiliated with the Sugar Plum Inn? Maybe he’d get a second chance at meeting her.

He eased back on the road and tapped the steering wheel in an old familiar rhythm. It was something that had been a part of his life before meningitis had taken his hearing and changed his plans for the future. A moment of regret flared. You couldn’t be in a band if you couldn’t hear the music.

That was the past. The next few days were a favor to his boss who knew the owner of the inn. Word was there was a new chef and they wanted to promote the new menu in hopes of bringing people back to the area. Tonight, he had a job to do, and with any luck, dinner would be above average and it would make it easy for him to write a rave review.

2

The back entrance door banged when Dora pushed it shut. The kitchen was quiet and that wasn’t a good sign. Mike, her sous chef, should be working on something, at least getting the baked bread started. The smell of yeasty dough hung heavy in the air so at least that was promising everything might be on schedule.

Stopping to hang her coat in the back room, she then walked through the kitchen, into the small sitting area where the bar was on the other side. In the corner her boss, Joan Sherman, who owned the inn, sat making plans to conquer the world. She smiled as Dora walked around the mahogany bar.

“Your cheeks are bright red. Still not used to our weather?” She pushed her reading glasses to the top of her salt-and-pepper chin-length bob.

“I got two flat tires on the truck about a mile and half down Peen Hill. I wanted to let you know I’m calling for the repair truck. But on the upside, I was able to get the Christmas trees.”

“Thanks again for picking them up. I know it’s not something a chef normally does, but—” She blinked hard. “Wait, you got two flats?”

“It wasn’t easy but those potholes out there are hazardous to tire health.” She gave a guarded grin. Joan was still a bit of a mystery. She had taken over the inn from her son when he decided owning and running an inn just wasn’t his thing. But it turned out it was his mother’s money invested so when she took over, Joan hired Dora. She was striving to put Sugar Plum Inn back on the map and become a must-go destination as it had been for at least one hundred years.

“Rumor has it mud season is even worse.” Joan winked. “I never knew that was a thing until I moved here.”

“When is mud season and how long does it last?”

“In most states it’s called spring, but in Vermont, as the snow melts and frost gets out of the ground, it’s referred to as mud season.”

Well, that was a fine thing to discover. How was she going to navigate dirt roads in the spring? “I’ll call the tow truck.”

“Thanks, Dora. We got another two reservations while you were out for dinner.”

“There’s a bright spot for the day. And let me know what you want for dinner tonight. I’ll get it out around six thirty, if that works for you.”

“Thank you, Dora, and I’ll take whatever you want to serve.”

She walked back into the kitchen, marveling at how Joan was easy to please. After donning her chef coat, she tied her hair back in a neat bun. With a thorough wash of her hands, it was time to get prep underway for dinner service. She was behind schedule, but the monotony of prep always got her head in the game.

Mike came out of the walk-in refrigerator with a bucket of carrots. “Hi, Chef.”

She scanned the baking station. “Hey, Mike. I’m surprised I don’t see bread dough rising.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I just put the finished loaves in the warming station out front. When you didn’t get back earlier, I figured I keep things moving per your normal plan.” He gave her a steady look. “I also made some butternut squash rolls for a change of pace. I used the new recipe you’ve been working on and thought it was time to introduce it to the inn.”

She arched a brow and crossed her arms across her midsection, mildly annoyed he would take it upon himself to change up her menu. “I not sure they were ready for prime time.”

“Serving them midweek is a great way to find out and if they all come back either still in the baskets or on plates, you’ll know.” He gave her a friendly wink. “Push confidence into the world and it will rebound back to you.”

“If you say so. Let’s get busy with dinner prep. We’ve got reservations and the inn is half full so I’m expecting we’ll be busy.”

He gave her a cocky salute. “Yes, Chef.”

She shook her head. “Mike, we’re a good team and thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone, but for the record, next time ask me first.”

“But would you have agreed?”

The challenge was in his question, and he already knew her well even though they had only been working together for a few months. Typically, she would have kept working on the recipe until she felt it was ready even if the results had been replicated many times over. She walked around to her work center.

“Chef?”

She flashed him a wide grin. “Maybe.”

He let out a loud laugh. He turned the carrots out into the sink and began to prep them to pair with the roasted garlic hollandaise sauce as one of the side dishes for tonight.

They worked in silence through the list of items to prepare for dinner. They had three main entrées, but the side dishes would be used for the pork, beef, and chicken options, and the sides could be combined into a vegetarian meal if ordered as well.

The hands on the clock indicated dinner orders would start to trickle in less than a half hour from now, and if the pattern held, they had a little rush around six thirty with a few final orders before seven thirty. At some point mid-service, Dora would wander through the dining room, chatting with patrons and checking to see what might be lingering on plates or be better options for repeats. Not that she wanted her menu to be stale, but she did take notice of the better sellers, and there were a few regulars from the surrounding towns who always gave her good feedback.

For a moment Dora allowed herself to think of Charlie, the man who had stopped and offered to help her out. He had been one good-looking guy and the pup started her thinking that maybe in the spring, well after mud season, she might get a dog, before the inn got really busy.

The two waitresses came in for the staff dinner and they each had a small portion of all three entrées. This way when customers asked how things tasted they had firsthand knowledge. When she had implemented the change to staff meals, Joan hadn’t been thrilled with the idea, but these ladies knew how to upsell the desserts, and dinner spends had increased. Tonight would be no exception.

Charlie dropped off the puppy to his new family and left feeling good about helping out. He pulled up in front of Sugar Plum Inn. It was an old farmhouse for the main building and from the driveway he could see small cottages that peppered the grounds toward the shoreline of the lake. He would be staying in the main house for the next three nights to be immersed in the ambience and overall experience of the inn.

The walkway was well lit and the wide flagstone steps were a gentle rise to the enormous wraparound porch. A large wreath with a plaid bow hung on the oversized red door and to the right of the door a sign stated Lobby. He pulled open the door and stepped inside. Immediately he noticed the hooks where several coats were hanging, along with a wrought iron umbrella stand complete with deep-green umbrellas.

He entered a cozy room where a woodburning fire danced in the hearth. Two wingback chairs flanked either side and a display of greens and sprigs of holly berries covered the dark wood coffee table. It felt as if he were stepping back in time to an old stagecoach inn where the weary traveler was welcomed with warmth for his insides and out.

He walked around the bar in search of an employee. He was surprised to see an older woman with short hair sitting on the other side. “Hi, I’m Charlie Ward, checking in.”

The older woman walked around the bar with a warm and welcoming smile on her face. “Welcome to the Sugar Plum Inn. I’m Joan Sherman, the innkeeper.” She extended her hand in a warm handshake. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us, Mr. Ward.”

“Charlie, please.” Did she know who he was or was he still operating under the guise of a writer? “Your inn comes highly recommended for tranquility.” He tapped his laptop bag. “I’m on a deadline.”

“During the week it’s pretty quiet but on weekends we get busy with couples and families, especially during the snow season and in the summer months. Vermont is a winter wonderland bursting with activities for the adventurous and the more reticent.”

“I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.”

She walked around the side of him and waved for him to follow.

He kept his eyes on her lips as best he could with her walking behind the desk. She was talking about his accommodations.

She consulted a computer screen and without looking up, he could barely make out her words. “I see you’re in the Maple Leaf Suite. It overlooks the lake and offers the most privacy.” She handed him an old-fashioned key attached to what looked like a Christmas ornament of a purple plum complete with a dash of glitter—no swipe cards here.

With a smile of thanks, he followed her directions down the long hallway until he got to the opposite side of the inn. His room was the last door on the left. The key turned easily in the lock and he stepped over the threshold. The view of the lake was directly in front of him and he crossed the room, leaving his laptop bag on a chair, and slid open the glass door. The small deck held two chairs and a small table, perfect for sitting and watching the wildlife. He inhaled a lungful of cold, crisp mountain air.

He walked back inside and scanned the room. A small gas fireplace was tucked in one corner and he was pleased to see the fire glowing in the grate. It added a pleasant ambiance to the room. Through a door on his left a large four-poster bed dominated the one side of the room and beyond that he discovered a well-designed bathroom with a walk-in shower and clawfoot tub. The overall feel of the room exceeded his expectations. Walking back into the sitting area, he picked up a trifold flyer and scanned it.

“We have a library that is open to all, and there’s a self-serve snack station available in the sun room where breakfast is also served.” He gave a half nod. So far the attention to detail was excellent. He quickly unpacked his clothes, putting everything away. He had time before his dinner reservation and his stomach rumbled, reminding him lunch had been early and less than hearty—a bag of chips and a candy bar. Maybe he could get seated early?

A large fireplace dominated one side of the spacious dining room. Deep-purple linens covered the tables, and quite a few were filled with people dining. He scanned the room, wondering if he should seat himself, and his eyes locked on the woman in the white chef coat talking to a couple. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her and his mouth went dry. It was Dora Bennett, the woman with the flat tires. He was pleased they were about to talk to each other again.

She turned to move to another table. Her eyes locked on his and a slow smile of recognition slid over her face. A jolt raced through him as he returned her smile. The next three days had just gotten very interesting.

A touch on his arm drew his attention. “Hello, Joan.”

“You can sit wherever you’d like.” But she seemed to want to help him find a table.

Was it wrong to want Dora to be sitting across from him sharing tidbits of her life? He glanced back to her and he mouthed, hello.

She gave a small finger-flutter wave. Would she come to his table to talk? He could only hope. Charlie sat with his back to the window and had an excellent view of the dining room and the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

He smiled at Joan.

She asked, “Do you know Chef Bennett?”

“We’ve met.” He wasn’t about to elaborate on the circumstances, but he casually glanced her way. “And I look forward to talking with her again.”

“She usually comes out a few times during dinner service so I’m sure she’ll stop at your table tonight.”

Not looking at Joan, he gave Dora a quick wink. “I’ll look forward to it.”

3

Dora walked into the kitchen and drew in a deep, calming breath. She never expected to see Charlie tonight, and definitely not at the inn. He must be staying here for a few days. He had mentioned something about staying in Vermont, but she never thought it would be here, at her inn.

“Chef?” Mike glanced around a stack of plates in his hands. “Everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She glanced at the order slips and fell into the rhythm of cooking which always centered her with the steady chop, sauté, plate, and move on to the next order.

He gave her a side-glance. “Your cheeks are flushed.”

“It’s warm in here and the dining room is filling up. We have a busy night ahead of us for a Tuesday.”

“Good problem to have since this can be a slow time of year.”

Dora glanced at the swinging door and wondered how in the world she could talk to Charlie again without it looking like she was overly interested in him. Well, she surmised, he was a guest at the inn so she could bump into him during meals, but he wasn’t going to be here forever. Besides, what was a little harmless flirting with a nice and handsome guy? She had to wonder why he was here alone. The inn was romantic at this time of year with the holiday decorations, and tomorrow night the tree lighting ceremony in town was another perfect moment for some romance.

Her thoughts drifted to what it might be like to be holding hands with someone she liked when the countdown began and then when they hit one, the tree would be awash with brilliant white and colored lights. Wrapping her arms around herself, she let out a long sigh. That was on her romance bucket list. Maybe someday.

Mike gave her a quizzical look but didn’t ask again if she was okay. He continued to work on the next dinner slip in front of him when she took charge of the chicken.

Fleur, one of the waitresses, came up to the prep station. “Chef, one of the guests asked for you to choose your favorite entrée for his dinner.”

Her heart skipped. “What did the others at the table order?”

“He’s alone. From what Joan said, he just checked in late this afternoon.” She glanced at her empty pad. “I thought if you can tell me what you’d cook, I’ll take out one of the soups and a salad that I think might pair well.”

Dora liked her confidence and Fleur always knew which sides to suggest with each entrée. She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll serve the beef burgundy with spaetzle and of course a popover so no need for the bread basket.” She swirled the skillet she was holding over the flame to continue cooking the chicken she had started. “Did he want you to go back and tell him or just surprise him with dinner?”

“All he said was, and this is a direct quote, ‘please have your chef select her best dish for dinner,’ and then he picked up his glass of water and gave me a Cheshire cat grin.”

“Alright then. What will you select for his appetizer and salad?”

Fleur tapped her chin with the pen she was holding. “The bibb lettuce salad with the house vinaigrette and a small plate of local cheeses and pate.”

“Excellent selections.” She gave a dismissive nod which she knew no one in her kitchen took offense to. It was just her way of focusing on getting her job done. After all, if her food bombed, there was no amount of good service or dessert to fix it. Even the breakfast cook followed her menu creations. Dora had a motto, and it was either score big or go down in flames. Joan was counting on her skills to enhance Sugar Plum Inn’s reputation and make it a must-go destination in the Northeast Kingdom. Besides, her reputation as a top chef needed some repair after the debacle in Boston where the head chef she worked under accused her of cooking with inferior ingredients and lining her pockets with kickbacks from the vendors.

Her cheeks burned at the memory of being fired during dinner service when the entire incident was brought to light and the restaurant owner accused her, but she knew who had really been behind the scheme. It was Chef Stevens and she was the fall guy. However, that was months ago, and Joan had given her a second chance.

The kitchen bustled as everyone worked to get dinners out quickly and efficiently. When she plated Charlie’s dinner, Fleur came over to take it from under the warmer and she smiled.

“Chef, since our guest put you in complete control of his dining experience, maybe you should deliver it yourself.” She passed a bright-white kitchen towel to Dora from the stack on the shelf. “I think he’d really like that, and I’ve heard he’s some big-time author so who knows? Maybe he’ll write a character about you in a book someday.”

She smiled her thanks as she took the towel, inspected her chef coat for stains, and took the plate. “Fleur, you’re right. I should deliver it and see if he’s enjoyed the rest of the meal so far.”

Mike pulled a fresh batch of popovers from the oven. “Don’t forget these.” He put two in a small basket and covered it with a cloth napkin.

Dora walked across the dining room where people were lingering over coffee and dessert. Only a few were still on entrées and by the looks of the smiling faces, tonight had been another good one for them all.

With a professional smile, she placed the basket to the side on the table and the dinner plate in front of Charlie. “Beef burgundy with spaetzle and popovers. I hope you enjoy it.”

The copper in his eyes sparkled in the candlelight from the table and her knees softened. Those eyes alone were swoonworthy. But she kept a neutral smile on her face. “If you’re interested in dessert after dinner, I’d suggest either the vanilla ice cream with berry compote or the pudding. Both are made in-house and delicious.”

He glanced around the room. “Dora, could you join me?”

This was the first time she’d ever been asked to join a guest. She wanted to but knew it wasn’t a good idea. She was getting paid to work not flirt.

“I have things to do in the kitchen, but if you’d like, we could have coffee later.”

He gave her that same smile he had earlier today. “I’ll hold you to it.”

She tapped the edge of the table before walking through the kitchen door, backside first to get a glimpse of Charlie trying her signature dish. He held his fork up in salute to her before popping it in his mouth. His eyes closed while he savored the flavors, and there it was, the reason she had always wanted to be a chef, cooking amazing food for people to enjoy.

This had to be the best beef burgundy Charlie had ever eaten. The beef was tender; the mushrooms exploded with earthy goodness, and the popovers were crisp but the inside was light, buttery with a slight custardy texture. Dora had nailed the dish perfectly. It had to be one of the best versions of the classic he’d ever tasted, and one thing he knew well was great food. Now he was curious what was she doing tucked away in northern Vermont instead of in a city running a kitchen.

He finished the last bit of popover and wondered if he had room for dessert, but she had teased homemade ice cream. He lifted his hand to his waitress and she came over.

“How did you like your meal?” She picked up his dinner plate.

He patted his midsection. “As you can see by the clean plate, it was just terrible.” He chuckled. “Is the food always this good?”

She leaned forward slightly. “Now that we have Chef Bennett, yes. She is amazing and once the guests taste or hear how good it is, they never eat anywhere but here. The restaurant is even popular with the locals.”

“Thank you for suggesting I allow the chef to select my dinner. Now, what would you recommend for dessert?”

Without hesitation, she said, “The vanilla ice cream with maple cream sauce. It’s my favorite and it’s not a huge portion so you won’t get that Thanksgiving overstuffed feeling.”

“Would it be possible to get two servings? I’ve asked Chef Bennett to join me for coffee.”

Her eyes widened and a flicker of surprise flashed briefly across her face. “I’ll let her know that you’re ready anytime she is.”

“Thank you, Fleur.”

She finished stacking the empty dishes on top of the dinner plate. “If I can get you anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Just coffee for now.”

She gave him a wide smile. “I’ll let Chef know you’re waiting.”

Charlie settled back in his chair and flicked his tablet on. He’d read while waiting for Dora and it didn’t matter how long it took. Well, as long as he didn’t get kicked out of the dining room. Before he could begin reading, Mrs. Sherman, the owner, strolled over to his table.

“Good evening, Mr. Ward. I trust you enjoyed your dinner?”

“Everything exceeded my expectations and thank you for the suite. I’ll be able to get a lot of writing done as long as I don’t get distracted from the stunning views.”

“We have walking trails over the entire property. You should try to get out while you’re here to take advantage of the scenery and weather. The temperatures should be mild for the next few days, but of course at night snow is in the forecast.”

Did she have any idea who he was? Is that why she was chatting him up? “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll make sure to take breaks. Is there a firepit outdoors?” He thought of asking Dora to join him for cocoa by the fire one night. Wow, he was really getting ahead of himself now.

“We have a gas firepit. If you want to stop by the front desk, I can give you a map of the property, and if there is anything else you’d like, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

She moved off to the group of four still lingering over dessert and she basically had the same conversation with them. Relief slipped over him—his cover hadn’t been blown.

The swinging door opened and Dora came out. She wasn’t wearing her chef coat but she was carrying a small tray and she headed in his direction.

“Hi.” She smiled. “Fleur said you ordered two desserts? I was surprised you chose the maple cream.” A glint of mischief warmed her brown eyes. “Are you still hungry?”

“I was hoping you’d join me.” He got up and pulled out a chair for her, all the while keeping his eyes on her face. “Fleur said it was her favorite and I think enjoying something made with maple syrup is only appropriate given we’re in Vermont.”

“Thank you. I can’t think of a nicer way to end my day than sharing dessert with you, and she is right; this is the best dessert on the menu. Who knows? Maybe next time you try and rescue me from the side of the road, I’ll say yes.”

“The offer still stands for you to call my mom. She’ll vouch for me that I’m a nice guy.”

“We’ll see how dessert goes. Maybe I won’t need her number.” She handed him a small clear glass bowl with ice cream and a white ceramic pitcher. “I like the sauce on the side; that way you can choose how much or little.”

He watched as she emptied the small pitcher over hers and he did the same. “I’ll follow your lead.” Heck, at the rate she was capturing his interest, he’d follow her almost anywhere.

4

Suddenly tongue-tied, Dora dipped her spoon into the maple sauce and she looked at Charlie from under her lashes. This wasn’t how she had thought her day would end but it was nice.

“Did the puppy drop-off go well?” She liked how he maintained eye contact with her; it made her feel like he really cared what she was saying.

“Very well. The family was so happy to meet their fur baby and they had a couple of kids that couldn’t wait to shower him with kisses and hugs.”

He took a big spoonful of the ice cream and sauce and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Dora, this is the best maple anything I’ve ever tasted. Is it hard to make?”

A small smile grew on her face. “It’s very simple but the secret is to have people think it’s hard. Most everything I cook follows that same tenet. Flavor and ease. That way if a guest of the inn wants a recipe, they can replicate it at home.”

“Isn’t that bad for business, giving away your secrets?” He continued to eat his dessert and he carefully scraped the inside of the pitcher, concentrating to get every last tasty spoonful.

“I can get more if you’d like.” He didn’t look up or respond to her. “Charlie, do you want more?”

He glanced up. “I’m sorry. I was lost in a maple haze. What did you say?”

She laughed. “Shall I run into the kitchen and get another pitcher for you?”

“No, I’m all set but hey, take it as a compliment that it’s pottery-scraping delicious.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “You’re an amazing chef. Tell me how you landed here and where did you come from?”

Her stomach flipped. She wasn’t about to tell Charlie she got fired from her last job; it was embarrassing. “Previously I was a sous chef and when it came to my attention that I could run the kitchen from breakfast to dinner, it was an excellent opportunity to step outside of my comfort zone and see what I could do.” She glanced around the room and relaxed. “Joan had just taken over the inn and was looking to shake things up a bit. She hired me, giving me full run of the kitchen, and the staff that’s in place is wonderful to work with. For the first time in a long time, I feel like it’s a good fit.”

He was nodding as she explained her process for having the menu flow from breakfast through dinner and how it changed with the seasons and availability of ingredients.

“I’m sorry to have yammered on about my work. It must be boring.”

The smile on his lips warmed his eyes. “Not at all. I found it quite interesting and never considered if an establishment would put so much thought into their menu from dawn to dusk so to speak.”

“When you say it like that, I guess it is what I’ve done, but I like to think offering our guests a variety keeps them coming back for more and that even means giving away a recipe or two because the next time they come, the menu will be different.”

His coffee cup was empty as were their dessert dishes. Before she could thank him for a pleasant interlude, he touched her hand.

“I’m having a lot of fun. Any chance you’d like to take an evening stroll? Joan mentioned there are some trails on the property.”

A trickle of butterflies kicked up her pulse. “The trails are better in daylight; you wouldn’t want to trip over a root or slip on ice, and besides, we do have wildlife that come out at night in the woods.”

His smile didn’t dim. “What about sitting outside next to the fire?”

Tipping her head, she quickly thought of what she had worn this morning for warmth and she didn’t have boots but she did have an extra pair of thick socks she could put on; her feet would be warm.

“That sounds nice. I need to get my coat, but we can meet in the lobby in ten minutes.”

He pushed back from the chair. “It’s a date.”

He glanced down and back up. Was he shy or did he instantly regret asking her to join him? There she went again, assuming the worst. Sitting outside next to the fire wasn’t anything more than keeping company for a bit longer.

She pointed to the kitchen. “My stuff is out back.”

He pointed over his shoulder. “Mine’s in my room. Now that we have that established, I’ll get my coat.”

With a nervous giggle, she pushed the chair in and picked up the dirty dishes. Fleur had gone home for the night, and she wouldn’t leave these sitting here. “I’ll be right out.”

This reminded her of when she was talking on the phone to a boy as a preteen. It was who would hang up the phone first. You hang up; no, you hang up; okay, on three, two, one, and then they’d both laugh, neither of them hanging up. With her heart light, she hurried into the kitchen, hoping she really had the wool socks she thought she had. Cold feet or not, she was going to enjoy sitting by the fire with Charlie.

Pushing open the solid wood door, Charlie grabbed his heavy coat and hat, then checked his pocket for gloves. Sitting outside, even next to a fire, was bound to be cold in December. But he wasn’t ready to not be in Dora’s company. He was drawn to her charm and passion for her career, but it was the underlying sense of humor that kept shining through that he couldn’t seem to get enough of.

It had been a long time since he felt this intense of an attraction to a woman. The last time had ended when he discovered she was involved with another guy and him, despite their agreement to be exclusive. It had fractured his heart, but after two years, he was ready to open his heart to love again.

Charlie entered the lobby and Dora was talking to Joan who was perched on the back side of the bar. He got the distinct impression that was her favorite spot. Conversation ceased as Joan pointed in his direction. She gave him a small wave. “Have fun.”

Bundled up in a winter coat and deep-red hat, Dora was beautiful. She held up mitten-covered hands. “Ready to brave the night?”

He held out his hand and she placed hers in his. “Yes, but you’ll need to lead the way. All I know is the firepit area exists.”

She grinned. “It’s a good thing I know the way.” She squeezed his hand. “Come with me.”

Right now, he’d follow her anywhere. Slow down, Charlie boy. You’ve just met the woman and already you’re throwing caution to the wind. What happens next is better to evolve slowly.

They walked out a side door he hadn’t noticed before and took a well-maintained brick path to an area where Adirondack chairs sat in a circle and in the center was a large copper firepit. She flicked a switch and within seconds the flames leaped up.

“The beauty of gas over wood.” He waited until she sat down in a chair, and then he repositioned his to face her and be half-cocked toward the fire too. Should he tell her he had a hearing issue? It wasn’t a big deal for him; he had become adept at reading lips, and after fifteen years of practice he was used to making the slight adjustments to accommodate the issue.

For Charlie, he didn’t think of his deafness as a handicap. It was just something he had to learn to adjust to. He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Maybe we should have brought out marshmallows or something?”

She leaned forward. “If you’re still hungry, I can run to the kitchen. We have smores kits ready for our guests.”

“No, I was joking. I’m stuffed from that amazing meal you prepared.” He settled back in the chair and watched the firelight dance in her eyes.

A short silence slipped over them, and Dora rested her head against the back of the chair. She was saying something, but he was not quite sure what it was since he couldn’t see her lips fully form the words.

Leveling her gaze at him, she said, “Tell me what you’re working on.”

He couldn’t very well tell her that he was the phantom reviewer so what could he say?

“Joan said you’re a writer, working on a novel I think?”

He let go of the breath he was holding. Now, talking books he could do. He really was writing a suspense novel, not that it would ever get published, but it was his true love.

“I’m working on a novel, you know like Dan Brown, that genre, but I’m nowhere near as talented as he.” He pushed his gloves onto his fingers a little more. “I mostly write nonfiction to pay the bills, but who knows? Maybe someday this will turn into a nice stream of income to fund my retirement.”

He shifted in his chair. Why had he told her that he writes nonfiction and how was he going to sidestep that what he wrote was reviews? He shifted the conversation. “How long did it take you to get back to the inn today after the flat tire incident?”

“Less than a half hour and I did as you suggested and sang loudly. Even if it was off-key, all the creatures big and small knew I was out there.”

She laughed again and he liked the way her eyes crinkled when she did. She didn’t try to hide how she was feeling.

“I called the tow truck and they’ll put new tires on it, and I’ll pick it up in the morning.”

“Do you need a ride to get it? Now that you know I’m just an average Charlie and a nice guy, you could ride with me.”

“I get the distinct impression there is nothing average about you. But sure, I’ll be back here by eleven. If you’re free from writing, I’d love a ride, and it will give you a chance to see more of our small town.”

They wound their way through the normal stuff, such as siblings, college, favorite vacation spots until the moon was mid-point in the inky-black sky. Dora stifled a yawn and pulled out her cell.

She bolted up. “I had no idea it was so late and I need to get home. Oscar will wonder where I am.”

He couldn’t help but ask, “Who’s Oscar, your son?”

She waved her hands. “Heavens, no. He’s my cat. Well, if you ask anyone, they’d say I treat him like he’s a human and he’s a touch particular about what time he gets his dinner. I’ll bet he’s sitting next to the refrigerator, willing it to pop open so he can eat.”

He got up and held out his hand. “Oscar is that kind of a kitty where he rules.”

She took it and as she got up, she tumbled into his arms. Color flushed her cheeks and stammering, she said, “Sorry. I’m not very graceful at times.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He wanted to brush his lips to hers, but he needed to cool his jets. They had just met and he didn’t want to scare her away by moving too fast.

Arm in arm, they strolled down the path to the door.

“I was serious about driving you to pick up the truck tomorrow.” He paused before opening the door and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my cell number, in case you are running late; otherwise, I’ll meet you in the lobby at eleven.”

She dipped her head and then lifted her eyes. His heart skipped a beat.

“I’d like the company. Thank you.”

He held open the door and was pleased with himself. This work trip definitely had an upside. He couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow too.

5

Charlie had enjoyed a hearty breakfast and spent the last two hours wandering the grounds of the inn. He had to admit he was pleasantly surprised to notice the trails were well groomed without losing the ambience of the wooded areas and often he could catch a glimpse of the endless lake. A few houses dotted the shoreline on the other side but most looked boarded up for the winter season.

He rounded a corner and stopped midstep. His heart ticked up but he took slow, deep breaths and thought of what he should do next; the bear hadn’t noticed him yet. Weren’t they supposed to be in hibernation by now?

The bear had its nose to the ground, headed in the opposite direction, and as far as Charlie could tell, it was huge. It paused mid-waddle and sniffed a pile of leaves. That’s when he saw what looked like a suet birdfeed cake and it still had the wire hanger attached. Mr. Black Bear sat down on his haunches and started to munch on the treat.

Not wanting to startle the animal or worse have it think it needed to protect the food, Charlie walked backward, praying he didn’t step on a stick to give away his presence. As long as the wind was at his front, the bear wouldn’t smell him either; well, at least that is what he’d always read.

Inch by agonizing inch, his heart hammered in his chest as he eased down the trail until there were enough trees between him and the bear for him to pick up the pace. As he grew closer to the inn, he patted his pocket where his cell was stored. Why hadn’t he taken a couple of pictures? No one back home would believe he had been that close to a bear and got out unscathed. There was someone he could tell, and she’d know how scary and exhilarating it had been—Dora.

Entering the inn through the front door, Charlie strode through the lobby and down the hall to his room. He wanted to jot down some notes. Maybe it was something he could use in his book, and better to get the details down while they’re still fresh in his mind. Double-checking his watch, he had almost forty minutes to write.

Charlie closed the lid to his laptop, satisfied with the level of detail he was able to write down about how he felt, how the woods smelled, and every description he could put into words about the bear. He felt his phone buzz in his shirt, and he noticed the time. It was almost eleven thirty. Dora. He grabbed his coat and ran from the room.

When he got to the lobby, he glanced around. It was empty, but what had he expected? Her to be sitting and waiting for him to appear? The last thing he wanted her to think was that he had bailed on her. If he hadn’t gotten so caught up in writing, he wouldn’t have been a no-show. He wanted to kick himself; he had lost his chance to spend time with her.

A flash of bright blue caught his eye and he twirled around as Joan came in the side door. She gave him a noncommittal smile.

“Hello, Charlie. Are you looking for Dora?”

“Yes, I was supposed to meet her but I’m late.”

His hope that she had waited for him was dashed when Joan shook her head. “I think Fleur ran her into town. She was planning on stopping off at a couple of places, but she’ll be back later.”

The weight of irresponsibility sagged his shoulders. However, this wasn’t the first time his writing had derailed plans, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. “Any idea what time she’ll be back?”

“An hour or so.” She gave him a quizzical look and opened her mouth before closing it again.

“I had been out walking and saw a bear on the trail. It kicked off a spark of an idea for my book that I wanted to get written down before I forgot the details.”

She walked around to the back side of the bar and he followed her.

“I thought bears hibernated for the winter?”

“Typically, they do but if food is still plentiful they might not, and it’s still early December so there’s time for him to take a long winter slumber.”

He nodded, unsure what to say or do next. As if she could read his mind, she said, “If you’d like, the coffee bar is open in the library. There are books and newspapers for your enjoyment and the fire is cozy. You could wait for Dora in there and to help you out, I’ll let her know you’re there.”

A flicker of amusement appeared in her eyes before it disappeared. Did she think his tardiness was funny? Coffee and reading the newspaper did sound like a good way to wait.

“Thank you and I’d appreciate if you’d let Dora know where I am. I want to apologize.”

She gave him a regal nod as if she held the keys to saving him from his current state of disappointment. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”

“I will and thank you.” He found his way to the other room and as Joan had stated, on top of the breakfront were several coffee carafes, pitchers of cream, a sugar bowl, and a dome-covered plate with what looked like sugar cookies.

After pouring a mug of coffee, he snagged a cookie and took a seat where he could see the door and still be close to the fire. Normally he wouldn’t go through this much trouble for a woman, but there was something extraordinary about Dora and it was important to him that she wasn’t upset.

A little over an hour later Charlie had refilled his coffee cup and wandered to the wall of windows that looked out over the lake. It looked similar from his room, but this time he noticed a bright-red bench near the shoreline. It seemed to have a spectacular view.

Tomorrow he was supposed to check out and head for home, but there was a part of him that wished his stay had been open-ended and he could spend a couple more days with Dora. Maybe she’d want to explore the town with him after all.

A hand grazed his shoulder and he turned.

“Dora, I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were here.”

“I called to you, but you must have been lost in thought.”

“Something like that. I’m sorry about earlier. I’m not sure if Joan told you, but I ran across a bear this morning on one of the trails, and once I was able to get back to the inn without being eaten, I had to write down all the details. I think it will play well in the book I’m working on, or maybe the next.” His words came out in a rush. “I should have set a timer on my phone.”

Her smile was flat and he felt even worse. “I tried to call but you didn’t answer.”

“I turn the ringer off most of the time and rely on the buzz of incoming calls, voicemail, and texts.” That sounded plausible, right?

She crossed the room and poured a mug of coffee, holding out the carafe to freshen his. He let her fill up his cup and then sat down in front of the fire.

“I’m glad you got some interesting stuff for your book and quick thinking for inching away from him. Bears with food or babies are very unpredictable. But for the record, bears don’t eat people; they’re mostly vegetarians.”

“It’s all fine now. How did the truck pickup go?” He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.

“Uneventful.”

She wouldn’t look at him directly so he touched her arm. “I really am sorry about this morning. It’s not like me to be late.”

She looked at him as if carefully assessing the situation. “You can make it up to me by going with me to the tree lighting tonight.”

A second chance was all he needed. “What time? I promise I’ll be there.”

“How about I pick you up so you don’t get lost driving into town. It’s at five and Mike is going to cover dinner service until I get back. He said since it’s my first year living here I can’t miss it.”

Charlie didn’t care that it was only for a short time and she had to get back to work after. Maybe they could have a late dinner together.

“I was thinking, if you’d like to hold off on dinner until eight, we could eat together either here at the inn, or the pizza house is open until nine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He took her hand. “I promise you I won’t mess up again.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you at four thirty and dress warm. It’s going to snow tonight.”

“Are you sure you want to drive? I know you have two new tires but what about the other two?” He gave her a wink. “We don’t want to have to walk back to the inn.”

“That was the work truck, and my SUV has excellent snow tires so we’ll be fine.”

He let her hand go as she stood up. He wasn’t ready to let the conversation end, but he knew she had to work and so did he. “See you later then.”

D