Christmas Romance Collection

by Melissa Hill

  In front of the kitchen and serving area was a long granite countertop, where various solo customers typically nursed their coffees and pastries atop a row of stools. Alongside this was a glass display case filled with a selection of freshly baked goods; muffins, doughnuts, carrot cake, brownies and cream puffs for the sweet-toothed, and pies, sausage rolls and Italian breads for the more savoury-orientated.

  From early morning the place was flooded with families, friends, and neighbours, all there to grab a bite to eat—and to gossip. Ella thrived on the commotion and excitement, and the community had embraced her: she had become a figurehead in the town and a confidant to anyone who came in looking for a bit of conversation with their coffee.

  But her job was never easy. The early morning start meant that Ella was up at 5am to make the mile-long trek from her home on the other side of town, across the humpback stone bridge to the café’s kitchen.

  This morning, she was running atypically late. Late—it was such an unfamiliar word. She hadn’t slept late in nearly twenty years. She was gripped with an unsettling feeling of panic as she checked her watch.

  6:15. Damn, she thought to herself.

  This was going to be tight. She could certainly get the coffee started, and set her chef Colm’s baked breakfast favourites out on display, but would she have time to get the tables set and fried breakfasts prepped before her first customer arrived? Breakfast choices at the café typically ranged from yoghurt, muesli and bagels, to the Full Irish heart attack of fried sausages, mushrooms, eggs bacon and hash browns, complete with locally produced black pudding.

  Ella turned her quick walk into a half-jog. It was tight, because many of her early-morning regulars were residents commuting to work in Dublin so she’d better pick up the pace.

  She was speeding around the corner by the edge of the walkway to the lake when she felt her right shoe slip from underneath her. She grabbed for the silver tinsel hanging from the nearby lamppost when her left foot turned the other way and her back moved in reverse in an almost pained slow motion. She swirled in an almost elegant three-quarter turn and was suddenly staring skyward, her back on the ground.

  Ouch.

  She inched herself off the ground and quickly looked around her, stunned and a little embarrassed.

  Thank goodness, she thought, seeing no other early morning walkers around. Using her hands for support and leverage, she pushed herself upright and on to her feet. As soon as she was able to lean her body weight to her right side, she let out a horrible yelp. Her ankle had failed her. She briefly cursed her love of old-fashioned Mary Jane heels and her neglectful landlord who always “forgot” to salt the path in frosty weather.

  With her pride a bit battered, she hopped on one foot the rest of the way to the café.

  2

  As she opened the side entrance, she wondered what she should do now. Colm wasn’t due in until later this morning, so she had no other choice but to close for the morning—maybe even longer. She certainly couldn’t arrange breakfast and run the place all by herself.

  As she sat in the back of the café’s darkened kitchen with her ankle elevated on a nearby chair, she teared up at the thought of having to call a taxi to bring herself to the hospital. Ella prided herself for being independent and for never asking for help. Now she had to, and the thought of it was both disheartening and frightening.

  Just as she began to fall into a pit of despair, she heard a knock on the front door of the café. “We’re closed, sorry!” she cried loudly at the stranger. The knocking suddenly stopped and she heard heavy footsteps quickly moving away from the front door.

  She let out a sigh of relief as she dropped her bad leg to the ground and used her arms and good leg to anchor her to stand again. She slowly made her way to where she left her handbag and as she rummaged through it for her mobile phone, the knocking started up again. This time, it was at the back door. The knock was forceful and urgent.

  “Ella! Are you in there? Are you all right?” The voice was gruff, yet had a tinge of obvious concern, and she instantly recognised who was calling for her. That distinct, gravelly voice belonged to her most loyal customer, Joseph Evans. The owner of Lakeview riding school and stables, Joseph had been visiting the café every Monday since he was the new person in town almost thirty years before, about the same time as Ella and Gregory took over the café. Even though he lived a little way outside the village, he still stopped in faithfully every morning for a blueberry scone and a cup of coffee.

  “Joseph? Is that you? Give me a second.” Ella dropped the handbag on the table, quickly smoothed her hands over her tightly braided hair, and realigned her dress. With all her might, she managed to use the tables and counter space to limp towards the back door.

  As she opened the door, she caught a familiar earthy smell from the man towering over her—fresh pine trees and grass. His grey hair almost sparkled as gently falling snow touched the strands. Joseph had yet to lose the rugged good looks that had made him quite the catch in Lakeview for many years. Yet he’d never married.

  “You sounded flustered,” he said gently as she opened the door. “You’re never flustered.”

  “Oh,” she said, blushing slightly, “it’s—um—”

  “What happened?” he asked. “Baking accident? Tell me it wasn’t the scones…” The lighthearted humour in his voice made her forget why he was here.

  She shook her head bashfully. “It’s nothing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I just slid on the ice out front. You would think that Paul would have salted the paths, but you know how cheap he is,” she added, referring to her landlord, a wealthy banker married to a local girl, who owned the properties housing over half the local businesses on Main Street.

  “Ella,” Joseph insisted, “it’s obviously not nothing. You’re hurt. Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

  “An ambulance?” she asked, attempting to smile. “I don’t need an ambulance. I was just going to call a taxi to come pick me up and bring me to Jim Kelly to see if he’d put a bandage on it. It’s not that big a deal. I mean, I can still walk...”

  “Not a big deal?” he said sardonically, looking down at her leg. “You can’t even put any weight on it. I’m sure Dr Kelly will agree and send you straight to A&E.”

  “But I can,” she insisted.

  “Prove it,” he challenged her.

  Ella slowly lowered her foot, steadied her leg, and leaned to the side. The pain instantly shot through her body as she let out a loud squeal and stumbled forward. Joseph grabbed her arm as she nearly tumbled into his chest. Obviously, her pride had once again got the best of her.

  “Okay, yeah,” he said, holding her up and shaking his head. “I’m taking you to the hospital myself. You can pay me back in scones and coffee when you’re back on your feet.”

  Ella reluctantly nodded. Joseph helped her find a seat and quickly ran out the back door to retrieve his Land Rover. As she waited, she made a list of all the things she would need to do to get the café opened by this afternoon.

  Maybe she could just serve drinks instead of food today. That would keep her off her feet. Or perhaps she should serve food, considering that Monday was always her most profitable day. And she knew that she had to alert the waiting staff one way or another, so she quickly jotted down a note to her chef Colm and a small crew that explained why she wouldn’t be in this morning.

  She trusted Colm to handle the staff in her absence. He had, after all, worked for her since he was an awkward teenage boy nearly fifteen years ago.

  The lights of Joseph’s truck suddenly flooded the kitchen’s back window and Joseph raced inside. “Okay,” he said, a braced look on his face, “I know it’s not the best plan, but I need to get you into the jeep, so I’m going to have to pick you up.”

  “No,” she said, blushing again. “I’m like a sack of spuds.”

  “You have a better idea?” he asked.

  “Crane?” she joked.

  Joseph smiled and shook
his head. “I’m not taking ‘No’ for an answer,” he insisted. Without another word, he reached for Ella’s arms and gently stood her up out of the chair. Then with one quick and steady motion, he picked her up. He even grabbed her handbag as he carried her out the threshold of the cafe and into his humming vehicle.

  The drive to the hospital was beautiful and breathtaking. Rarely had Ella taken the moment to look around at the beauty of her home town. But as the snow fell sparingly on the windshield and the old fashioned street lamps glittered in the darkness, Ella felt a fondness for Lakeview that she had not felt in years.

  Christmas here had always been a beautiful and special time growing up.

  The ice skating on the frozen lake, the hot chocolate, and the town’s festive parades.

  As a teenager, her future father-in-law’s café would transform into a gathering place as the then much smaller community came together and celebrated the festive season.

  There was a jolly Santa Claus, plenty of mince pies, homemade mulled wine, and general joviality through the streets. At the end of the night, local musicians would play a combination of traditional Irish and Christmas music—the kind that made you fall in love all over again, and she remembered dancing cheek to cheek with Gregory, her soon-to-be husband.

  “Your ankle must not be hurting you much,” Joseph proclaimed.

  “Hmmm?” Ella broke out of her sentimental memories to acknowledge him.

  “You’re smiling.” He winked at her as he took his eyes off the road momentarily.

  “Oh, I was just remembering those old Christmas parties on Main Street and how special they were. Were you around for those?”

  “I was for the last couple, I believe. They were great. Always loved that mulled wine—especially the stronger version that came out after the children left.” He laughed heartily at the thought. “Why don’t we throw them anymore? I’m sure the village would love to have something like that again.”

  “Gregory used to drive them mostly. That all stopped after he died.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. She hadn’t said her husband’s name out loud in years.

  “Oh, I’m sorr—”

  “Don’t be. Once he passed away, his father and I didn’t have it in us to take on the organising of it. Those were the days though.” She looked off into the distance hoping to spot something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “So, why not now?” He asked, breaking a short silence.

  “Why not now what?”

  “Why not think about another Christmas party now?” He looked at her earnestly.

  Excitement glimmered in his dark brown eyes. His wide, mischievous grin was unavoidable. “By my reckoning, the café is coming up to thirty years in business with you at the helm. Good enough reason to celebrate.”

  “Ah, I’m way too old for that. I would need so much help, and I can’t—”

  “Can’t imagine asking for help?” Joseph rolled his eyes. “When are you going to understand that Lakeview loves you, Ella? They love the café and they adore you. I’m pretty sure that everybody, including myself would love to get involved. Just think about it, okay?”

  Ella sank back into the jeep’s heated seats. She had to admit the idea of throwing an old-fashioned party was very tempting, especially given the year that was in it.

  Joseph was right; she had indeed been in business in Lakeview for thirty years and it would be a lovely way to show some gratitude to the community for their support over that time.

  But if she were going to do this and do it right, she would have to ask for help. She could do that, surely. Just like Joseph said, there wasn’t a soul in Lakeview that Ella couldn’t turn to.

  It was all about finding the right people.

  As the two pulled up to the hospital’s Emergency Room doors, Joseph idled the jeep in the entryway. He swung around to Ella’s passenger side door and offered his arm to her. As he lifted her effortlessly out of the seat, she sighed.

  “You know what, Joseph. I’m going to do it. I am going to organise a thank you Christmas party for my customers this year. You’re right, it’s would be amazing. But I’m going to need your help with one particular task.”

  “What’s that?” He asked as he carried her like a child into the ER waiting room.

  “Oh, you’ll see soon enough. First, I need to find the rest of my help.” Ella smiled brightly as the thought of all that she needed to do and prepare danced in her head.

  She always did love a challenge.

  3

  Ruth Seymour sped through the village like a madwoman. Limbs of trees flew past her car window in a fury of pine green and icy white. Music blared from her SUV’s speakers as she loudly sung along, belting each and every high note she possibly could.

  Driving was Ruth’s therapy. Ever since she gave up her LA actress career and returned to live in Lakeview almost two years before, she found she needed more and more to be in the driver’s seat. Speeding along the tree-lined roads and gravel pathways of the back way routes around her hometown was a stark contrast from her old stomping grounds of Los Angeles.

  She enjoyed being home once again and the freedom and relative anonymity that came with small town life. It was all Ruth could do to keep from bursting with happiness as she took pin tight corners and rolled her windows down to feel the crisp and clean wintry air on her face and hair.

  Luckily for her, the lack of a major police presence and complete absence of photographers made it easy for her to indulge in her vice without much care or worry. One time she’d been pulled over for speeding on the road to Dublin, and the cop let her go once he recognised her as the glamorous star of the popular US TV show Glamazons.

  But that was a couple of years ago, and these days Ruth was no longer quite as famous or indeed glamorous.

  She slowed the car as the outskirts of the village loomed, houses grew closer together and she neared the old secondary school.

  Just driving past, she was flooded with memories of her former Lakeview school days. She remembered her very first dramatic solo, a musical piece in Latin. Her singing received a standing ovation and requests that she perform at village weddings and funerals for years to come. And then there was her first play. As a mere second-year, she had landed the lead role in Evita. It was challenging at first as she struggled to learn all of the songs and cues, but she would never forget the crowd rising to their feet in applause as she hit the final big note in “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.”

  Then of course, she could never forget the day she met Charlie Mellon.

  She remembered how he sauntered past her in the school’s hallway. She was surrounded by her gaggle of friends—a group that never left her side. Older and devastatingly handsome, with a leather jacket and a confident smile, Ruth was immediately smitten and determined to make him hers.

  A few days later, she found him standing outside a classroom waiting for the bell to ring. Taking a deep breath in, she casually strolled up to him, flashed her most radiant smile, and asked if he could help her with her Maths homework. “It would be such a help,” she practically begged. “I can’t seem to get through this by myself.”

  He just stared at her for several seconds, studying her face with such a quizzical look.

  He offered his hand to her—a formality so rare in school boys that reminded her of old romance movies. Ruth practically swooned. As they made plans for their study sessions, he never once took his eyes off of her. Unlike the rest of the boys who couldn’t ever dare to look her in the eye, his unassuming confidence made her feel shy again. Her face reddened, her palms sweat, and her heart raced.

  They spent the next few months studying together without any romantic overtures. Sometimes Ruth would lean into him as she turned the page, but he never returned the affection. Only once did he touch her hand as they both grabbed for a pencil at the same time.

  Ruth was about to give up on Charlie ever making a move until their final week before the Christmas break. It was a few short day
s away from the holidays and Ruth was becoming more and more anxious. As she went to meet him in the secluded study area of the town’s library, she braced herself for another session of serious Charlie. But he wasn’t at their usual table. Instead, a handwritten note was left on the chair:

  Ruth,

  I THOUGHT WE COULD HAVE A CHANGE OF PACE FOR TODAY. I’M SICK OF THE LIBRARY. MEET ME AT ELLA’S CAFÉ WHEN YOU GET THIS. FOOD’S ON ME.

  — CHARLIE.

  She grabbed her schoolbag and ran through the town square onto Main Street towards the café, The Heartbreak Cafe some of the older girls called it. Hopefully nothing like heartbreak awaited Ruth there today.

  Through the window, she could see Charlie sitting at the granite counter, chatting casually with the owner, Ella. She strolled in confidently and took a seat next to him, waving a friendly hello to Ella, who smiled knowingly and made herself scarce.

  “Well, this is a lovely change from the library,’ Ruth smiled. ‘What made you think of this?”

  “I just felt like something sweet. Ella makes the best muffins in the universe. Have you tried them?”

  “No, believe it or not I’ve actually have never been here before. It’s really cool though.” She studied the olde-worlde decor. It wasn’t exactly her style, but it had a real charm complete with cosy details. The wall’s pink and green accents reminded her of the movie sets for technicolor musicals. The mix matched china teacups were even out of date in a way that was comforting. It was almost like she had stepped into her grandmother’s front room.

  “I’ll order you something. How about tea, a muffin, and a piece of Twix cake? My mate, Colm works here at weekends, and he has some secret recipe he’s been bugging us all about. Ella finally let him sell it, so it must be good.”

  Ruth nodded in agreement and Charlie casually rattled off the order to Ella. Without much time to change the subject, the café owner was back again with two muffins from the back As she placed them down in front of them, she winked at Ruth as if she knew what was going on. Ruth blushed for the second time in her life.