Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1)

by Lucy McConnell

  He touched the ornament gently swaying on its red ribbon. “Did you know that the Hope tree wasn’t damaged in the fire?”

  Anika’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t?”

  Carlos shook his head. “The fire, smoke, and water damage went right up to that point and veered around it. Some people said it was a miracle, and I wondered, why was it a miracle that a fake Christmas tree didn’t burn when the new shelves I built in the children’s department did? But then I thought of you that first night we met under the Christmas tree.” Carlos smiled and pulled Anika closer.

  She glanced back at the wooden ornament before turning to face him. “That tree changed my life.”

  Carlos nodded and held her close. Megan was busy introducing her dolls to their new house, her eyes shining with happiness. Anika felt as if her chest would burst with so much emotion. Love pulsed from every pore, filling up the room. Anika handed Carlos a card. “I’m sorry that it isn’t more.”

  Carlos squeezed her hand, pulling her onto his lap on the couch. “You’re the only thing I asked for.” He nuzzled her cheek, and then directed his attention to opening the card. Anika could see the words she’d written in black ink against the cream-colored Christmas card from Kenworth’s.

  Carlos,

  Thanks for saving me and bringing Christmas back to life. Will you help me decorate my Christmas tree again next year?

  I love your heart— every hopeful beat— you.

  Love,

  Anika

  Carlos turned to her and smiled. “Yes, but I wondered if you’d help me decorate a tree at my house? I’m hoping that there will be more people to celebrate there next year.”

  He touched her cheek and kissed her gently, pulling back to look into her eyes. Anika smiled and leaned forward until her lips met his again. She kissed him until her heart thrummed happily in her chest. And with the sounds of Megan playing around the Christmas tree, Carlos’s arms around her, and love in her heart, something happened. It felt like her heart burst from its protective shell.

  Anika cried, and she didn’t try to stop the tears. She decided that it was okay to cry for the happiness and goodness she saw in Megan’s eyes, and Carlos. God loved her, and He sent her someone at Christmas— the time of the Savior’s birth to open her eyes and give her hope for Christmas.

  Carlos’s White Chicken Chili w/Optional Slow-Cooker tips

  1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts, chopped

  1 medium onion, chopped

  1 tablespoon olive oil, or use infused flavored olive oil with garlic

  2 garlic cloves, crushed

  2 cans (14 ounces each) chicken broth or substitute with 28 ounces of water and 2 chicken bouillon cubes

  1 can (4 ounces) chopped green chilies

  2 teaspoons ground cumin

  2 teaspoons dried oregano

  1-1/2 teaspoons cayenne pepper

  3 cans (14-1/2 ounces each) great northern beans, drained, divided

  1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Monterey Jack cheese

  Chopped jalapeno pepper, optional

  Over medium heat, cook chicken and onion in oil until lightly browned. Add garlic; cook 1 minute longer. Stir in the broth, chilies, cumin, oregano and cayenne; bring to a boil.

  For slow-cooker method, sauté onion in olive oil with garlic and then add raw chicken breasts and all other ingredients to crockpot. Cook on low for 8 hours or cook on high for 3-4 hours until chicken is done. Shred chicken right in the crockpot or remove it and dice it to your desired size. Enjoy the chili!

  10 servings (2-1/2 quarts).

  Find Rachelle’s books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and other retailers.

  RACHELLE J. CHRISTESEN is a mother of five who writes romance and mystery/suspense and solves the case of the missing shoe on a daily basis. She graduated cum laude from Utah State University with a degree in psychology and a minor in music. She enjoys singing and songwriting, playing the piano, running, motivational speaking, and, of course, reading.

  Rachelle is the award— winning author of six books, including Wrong Number, Diamond Rings Are Deadly Things, and What Every 6th Grader Needs to Know, as well as the Rone Award— winning novella Silver Cascade Secrets. She and her family live on a farm in Idaho.

  Visit www.rachellechristensen.com to learn more about upcoming books.

  To my fabulous family;

  and to serendipity and tender mercies such as at the Indie Author Hub Conference

  where the unexpected idea of Echo Ridge sparked

  between three creative women and one Marriott notepad.

  The rest is magic.

  KEIRA KENWORTH DROVE HER WORN-OUT Honda Civic through the familiar outskirts of Echo Ridge, focusing on which pitch might win over the CEO. She frowned. Get real. This was Cecilia Grange. Nothing would thaw her hardline view of the Christmas “money-maker” season. Or dissing Keira’s latest ideas to propel Kenworth’s department store out of its financial woes. If only she could figure out Cecilia’s soft spot— something had to win her over. The perfect gift? A doll she never got as a child? A puppy?

  Cecilia with a puppy.

  Keira grinned and glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her loose strawberry-blonde curls remained non-frizzy— luck was with her. The string of pearls from her mother— God rest her soul— gave her a needed confidence boost. She needed to be on for this meeting.

  Pulling into the City Center radius of Echo Ridge downtown, a wave of warm familiarity filled her. The cobblestone circular plaza created the center piece. On either side of the plaza down the street ran two rows of small-time shops. To the north was Parley’s Way, leading to the Ruby Mountain Resort for the rich and soon-to-be-famous. To the south lay Thornton Pike, leading to a trailer home park and the seedy side of town. And smack dab in the center sat Kenworth’s, the two-story turn-of-the-century gray brick structure rising like a protective guardian over the small city.

  Like a favorite pair of worn jeans, that’s what her little city was. What it needed was a nudge to take it back to its heyday. Keira sighed. What is needed was a miracle makeover.

  Hurrying through the back entrance, Keira approached the large office suite door. It was open, and Cecilia was already in the outer room. She stood at the small receptionist desk talking with Shirley, an older woman in a seriously ratted blonde updo.

  With a scowl, Cecilia looked up to make eye contact.

  Keira smiled an expression she did not feel. Be your bold self. You can do this. “Good morning, Ms. Grange. I’m a few minutes early.”

  “For?”

  Keira’s smile fell. “Our meeting? This morning, to go over new marketing strategies for the store? You canceled the last two meetings…” She hated to stutter but was at a loss as to what had gone wrong. Was it on a different day?

  “Oh yes, that.” Cecilia dismissed her with one hand and picked up a file folder with the other, walking toward her dark brown office door. Not knowing what else to do, Keira followed in attempted confidence. “I’ve had to cancel again. We can meet later in the week.”

  “No.” Keira resisted putting a hand to her mouth. Had she really said that? “I mean, it’s already December 1st. If we don’t implement these strategies right now, they won’t happen.”

  Cecilia’s eyebrow remained raised. “They’re not going to happen, period. You’ve pinch-hit for three years and frankly, the store isn’t doing much better.”

  Maybe because none of my ideas were used. Or maybe because the last of the aging board directors are barely involved and defer to dad. And maybe because dad is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s and doesn’t know exactly what you do here and I don’t want to stress him out. Keira wanted to add these thoughts aloud but pressed on. “Which is exactly why this year a new direction is not just necessary, it’s vital. We’ve tried the teen market and then enticing the Ice Money, and a host of other promotions. And they haven’t worked as hoped.”

  A few people walked into the outer suite. Keira move
d closer and spoke quickly. “The upgrades on the storefront windows and the new mailers have created interest. But what I’ve researched and seen for myself is a different tack. Truly, what we need is the heart of Christmas.”

  Cecilia gave a short laugh. “The what?”

  Keira ignored it. “Bring back the old-time feel of the store, of the city. Add a meaning and purpose for shopping, more than just buying things. We can gather people to the traditions— the Carol Fest out front in the plaza, the early-bird shopper donut stop—”

  “We’re not targeting that market.”

  “But we should. When we get back to the nostalgia of better times, they’ll want to come here. The store can also get back to helping the community. When the gifts they buy also help others in need, they’ll want to shop here. That’s what the Hope Tree is all about.”

  Cecilia pursed her lips. “The Hope Tree? Are you still talking about that? I told you, it’s small-time. Do it if you must, I don’t care. But it won’t make a difference.”

  Keira fought down frustration, and her urge to share research that proved otherwise. “We need to connect the community and visitors. There’s nothing like nostalgia, the thought of better days, to make that happen. Think Miracle on 34th Street.” Keira stepped toward her. “That’s the only way we can compete with the online stores, the Targets, and the huge group discount places. We have to make people want to shop here for a deeper reason.”

  “Bravo,” Cecilia glanced at her file folder. “Beautiful speech. I can’t imagine how many times you ran through it but it’s not going to happen. I’ve already called in the heavy artillery.”

  “The what? Who?” Not another “sure-bet” one-time hire.

  “A marketing genius, graduated summa cum laude from Yale, and works in a marketing agency in my old downtown.”

  “As in New York?”

  “Yes, that downtown. He knows how to make the numbers really crunch and that’s what we need this Christmas, Miss Kenworth. Or the store, you, and every employee here is done.” She leaned closer, taking off her reading glasses. “No touchy-feely Hallmark campaign is going to save this sinking ship or get the numbers we need. And certainly not a Kenworth’s poster-child-turned-marketing-assistant. Do I make myself clear? Tayton Wells is the answer to our problems, with a fat bonus waiting at the end of the rainbow to ensure success.”

  Before Keira could respond to the rudeness, Cecilia looked past her shoulder to the reception area and smiled. “Ah, there’s Tayton now. My noon appointment,” she emphasized clearly.

  Keira turned to the three people waiting in the sofa and table area. A dark-haired broad-shouldered man sat in semi-profile to her, texting on a phone. His briefcase lay on the coffee table in front of him. Keira pressed her lips together. Rich, “downtown”, and ready to glam-up her father’s beloved store right out of memory.

  Not this time.

  Keira spun on her heels and marched over to him though his head remained down. “Mr. Wells, Keira Kenworth. Excuse me for being frank but I have to be absolutely clear up front. I’m sure our little hick city of Echo Ridge can’t compare with the savoir faire of say, 5th Avenue, but there’s one thing you should know.” She glanced back at Cecilia, who stood in a rare moment of open mouth and no sound. So what if she was fired. She’d think about that later.

  The man looked up from his phone and glanced around the room as if to be sure she spoke to him. Keira glanced at Cecilia but plowed on. “That’s right, I’m talking to you. No Neiman-Marcus suit ideas will make a bigger impact on our store than the old-fashioned strategy of creating a family-friendly place to shop. A place that connects people. A worthy cause that fills their hearts, not just their gift lists. I can guarantee” —okay, that was stretching it, but in for a penny… “that not one of your bottom-line glitzy concepts are going to fly in this town. Not long term. It doesn’t work that way here.” Her voice rose. “And I will work night and day to prove that the heart of Christmas is the real secret to saving this store.”

  Pause.

  Shirley smacked her gum. “Oh, sugar, that’s a whopper speech right there.”

  Keira’s chest heaved slightly while standing her ground. The man smiled— or was it a smirk? Then he stood up, all six foot six tall of him. He smiled openly as he appraised her. “For the record, I’m not—”

  Another man suddenly stood next to Keira. “Are you looking for me?”

  A deep baritone voice. Like warm rushing water. Keira turned to her right. A well-built dark-haired man in a nice-fitting burgundy jersey and snug jeans stood with a hint of a smile. “I’m Tayton Wells.”

  “You? But I—” Keira willed her face to remain neutral but could feel the tinge of red spreading from her cheeks to her earlobes. Glancing back at the original man, he stuck out his hand. “Drew Stirling. Remember me?”

  “Wait, Drew? As in our Echo Ridge basketball legend? I didn’t recognize you in a suit. I mean, not wearing sweats.”

  Articulate, Keira.

  Tayton stepped slightly in front of Drew, necessitating their handshake to break. Though tall, Tayton only rose to his shoulders. “I apologize for the confusion between people. As for business attire, the driver ran late so we didn’t have time to stop at the resort first. Are we meeting with Ms. Grange right now?”

  “Not we. Just you.” Cecilia had walked over to them. “Drew, I’ll be with you soon, touch base with accounting. Tayton, in here. Keira, go make yourself useful.” With that she turned on her red heels and entered her office.

  Dismissed. The redness in Keira’s face burned. Drew grabbed his briefcase and with a nod and smile headed toward the open office door. Tayton feigned gentlemanly interest in his duffel bag while Keira shook off the embarrassment, holding her work folder close to her chest.

  He stood. “Sounds like we’ll meet later then.”

  “Apparently.” She shrugged. “Possibly.” Turning to go, she looked back, surprised to find him watching her. “I meant what I said, Mr. Wells. If we have to go toe to toe, I’m in the ring.”

  He watched her for a moment longer than he should have then nodded with the start of a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Not knowing what to do with that, Keira walked through the open door and into the nearest restroom to calm down. She forced herself not to beat her hands on the door.

  What an utter failure of a morning.

  Tayton entered Cecilia’s office observing as much as possible. Tall with dark gray hair cut short and precise, shrewd eyes, and cool demeanor, she was not to be underestimated. He surprised himself by comparing her to the strong but warm and genuine presence of Keira just a few minutes before. Talk about opposites.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Wells. Sorry about that, somewhat unfortunate, but at least you met Keira. Daughter of the owner. She’s efficient enough but bleeding heart-save the store type girl.”

  Tayton forced his attention back to Cecilia, attempting not to seem too interested in Keira. “So, she does marketing here? I’m not taking her job, am I?”

  Cecilia grunted, sitting down at her desk and pointing to a chair for him. “It wouldn’t be much of a job. Look, Tayton, I know your credentials and you know our time crunch. We need to make $200,000 this season, period, or we go bust.” She tapped her reading glasses on the desk. “You’ve got less than three weeks to make the magic. And only $15,000 budget.”

  Tayton jerked his head forward but remained cool. “That’s not a budget. Downtown that’s a lunch stipend. You didn’t mention it was that dire.”

  “For good reason. Would you have come?” Silence. “Exactly. I know you’re here to appease Wilkes at the office. They like to throw young possible promotions like you to the wolves for sport. You’re vying for the senior marketing exec spot, and for the bonus.” She leaned back and folded her arms. “You’re thinking this is a demotion” —she paused for a moment— “I know what that feels like. But, for better or worse, we need your skills. You need the solo opportunity to prove
what you’ve got and I’ve got family ties that say you’ll do it now.” A small smile began. “Fair enough? And the $20,000 bonus is more than compensatory considering the rest of the marketing budget. In essence, you literally are the marketing plan. I’m counting on your creativity, fairly impressive from your prior ventures I must say, to get stellar results. Did you draft the initial promo plan?”

  Tayton nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I can show you the presentation on my laptop.”

  “Just give me the highlights.”

  He stared— he’d spent a full day on it. Oh yes, he was going to earn his bonus working with this lady. “Okay, from my initial recon, the store is high in location, visibility, credibility, and older customer loyalty. But we need fresh patrons. Any mailers or billboards possible?”

  “Our last mailer went out for Black Friday. They’re expensive. But that’s where the creativity comes in. Right?” She peered over her pointy readers as she put them on.

  Tayton nodded professionally but inside fought down a wave of sarcasm. What did she think he was, a miracle worker? No way would this town bring in 200K, not if Santa himself showed up. “Numbers show to hit online markets for everyday shoppers and upscale goods for the resort tourists. Those are the best focus for burst money.”

  Cecilia nodded. “So what specifically does that look like?” Her phone buzzed and Shirley relayed that she needed to take an important phone call from New York. “I’ll be done here in five, I’ll call them back.”

  She turned back to Tayton. “We haven’t done much with online, no resources. I don’t know how you’re going to get a widespread base in such a short time. But, you’re Tayton Wells. Do your thing. I need to see results starting by the end of the week.”