A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances

by Melinda Curtis

  It’s in the box, Quinn. The one with the gingerbirrrd house. The gingerbirrrd—

  ~*~

  Lia Logan dropped the last box of kitchen supplies and fridge contents into the overstuffed trunk of her small SUV, then moved her sacred laptop to a spot safe from potential food leaks.

  At twenty-nine, she didn’t have marriage and kids under her belt like her mom did at that age, nor did she have the doctorate in speech therapy her big sis Amy had, but that didn’t mean she was going to turn into an old hag surrounded by cats and wild animals. Did it?

  She took in a deep breath of cold air then let it out long and slow…picturing all her self-doubt blowing away on the winter wind. Family dinners had a way of bringing out everyone’s loving and well-intentioned opinions. It did wonders for her appetite too. Emotional eating. Thank goodness she had the metabolism of a field mouse. She snatched a sourdough roll from the Thanksgiving leftovers her mom had packed up and held it between her teeth as she slammed the trunk door shut.

  She loved that her mom had recently moved back to Christmas Town, especially since her sister was planning to move away because of a huge job opportunity, and it was great for the three of them to have been able to enjoy Thanksgiving together, but if they’d known what her plans were for today and just how little was left in her bank account, dinner would have turned into a full blown intervention.

  Okay. She had to admit that using up most of her savings and inheritance and giving up her garage apartment in order to use her rent to help fund Holly Haven, her animal rescue and rehab, probably qualified her as not smart by financial advisor standards, but no way was she going to let her shelter go under. It wasn’t about financial success. It wasn’t about failing at what she’d devoted her life to doing and being told “I told you so”. It was about the animals. Where would they go? What would happen to all the strays or injured wildlife around Christmas Town? She was needed here and she wasn’t about to let any of the shelter’s residents down. That was enough logic for her.

  Lia had no desire to follow in her sister’s footsteps and leave their family farm to pursue higher degrees. The years she spent off at college getting her undergrad biology degree had been torture. This was her home. She loved it here. She loved her half of the farm…the wilder side, as she liked to call it…even if Amy had inherited the half with the farmhouse and stables. With Amy using horses in her speech therapy practice, the split made sense. The only reason Lia hadn’t tried fixing the old cabin on her half of the property was because getting to Holly Haven from Mrs. B’s on the main road was a whole lot faster and more convenient.

  She climbed into her driver’s seat, started the engine and got the heat going full blast. Stormageddon, a lost Maine Coon who’d found his way to her door during a snow storm four years ago, flicked his bushy tail and turned away in annoyance. No doubt he knew he’d napped on his favorite window seat for the last time. She reached out and gave his mane a good scratch.

  “Come on, Storm. I’m betting there’ll be lots of mice in our new place and the views will be better than looking onto a street. Well, okay, maybe no Christmas lights on lamp posts, but I can hang some up for you.” He loved lights. So much, that keeping them on a Christmas tree was a challenge every year, but the number of birds he’d be able to track from his new window would make up for losing his view of Christmas Town all decked out for the holidays.

  Storm churbled in his usual coons-are-too-cool-to-meow lingo, then curled into a twenty-five-pound fluff ball and covered his face with his tail.

  “Lia! Wait!” Her now ex-landlord’s voice sailed past the engine grind and car windows. Mrs. Beal waved her bright red house phone in the air. She was known for her collection of colorful phones, which she always switched out to match her seasonal décor. The red and green ones stayed hooked up the longest after Christmas, because of Valentine’s and St. Patrick’s Day.

  Lia shifted out of reverse, put on the brake, and waited as Mrs. Beal navigated the icy patches left on the driveway after Lia had done her best to shovel that morning. She’d felt guilty about not being around to clear snow the rest of winter, but Mrs. B assured her that her the new tenant moving in later today was young, handsome and quite capable.

  “It’s Cass. What should I say? She said she tried calling your cell.” Mrs. Beal held her hand over the mouthpiece.

  Oh, great. Lia took a deep breath and closed her eyes long enough to think straight. Her cell. Where’d she put it? It had to be in the trunk with her bags. No way was she going to pull everything out of her trunk for a cell search now. She had bigger issues at hand. She didn’t want her mom knowing about her move just yet. Finding out would mean she’d want to check out Lia’s new place…just to be sure her daughter was safe and comfortable. Lia needed to do some major cleaning and repairs before that happened or Mom, whose exquisite housekeeping, organization and baking skills were beyond anything Lia was remotely capable of, would end up trying to help out. Lia couldn’t let that happen. She loved her mom and sis, but they’d both been through enough in their lives and the last thing either of them needed was Lia being a burden. And right now, she didn’t want to argue with either of them about her decision. As it was, she was stressing about how she was going to be able to afford Christmas gifts, keep Holly Haven open and not be a failure when she turned thirty.

  “Just tell her I’m still out shoveling or something. I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Lia said. She was used to small town life, but just this once, she hoped her mom wouldn’t hear about her move through the grapevine. “Please don’t tell her that her first batch of gingerbread ornaments tasted delicious or she’ll know something’s up.”

  “Oh, goodness. I almost did,” Mrs. B said.

  “I knew they wouldn’t make it to your tree,” Lia said, shaking a finger at her. She grinned as Mrs. B babbled into the phone on her way back inside. Cass’s gingerbread ornaments were famous in town, not only for how wonderful they smelled and looked on a tree, but for their melt-in-your-mouth-and-sigh effect. She always gave Lia and Amy some to take home from her first batch at Thanksgiving. If she knew that Lia had used them as an anti-gossip bribe with Mrs. B, she’d never forgive her. Of course, Mrs. B didn’t know that Lia had kept six for herself. Six that weren’t likely to make it to her Christmas tree either.

  A muffled, grumbling noise came from the passenger seat and Lia narrowed her eyes at Storm. That cat could pass gas potent enough to wipe out the aroma of leftovers wafting from the back and the clove studded orange dangling from her rearview mirror within seconds. He looked up at her, smiling. Definitely smiling.

  It may have been the lack of “aroma” that clued her in…or the fact that she was multilingual in animal dialects or liked to think she was—alas, her unappreciated, hidden talents—but something made her stick her hand under his belly.

  “You little—” Lia said, pulling out her cell phone. A missed call from her mom and two texts from Amy—one expressing her disbelief that both Lia and their mom were skipping out on her for Black Friday sales and the other letting her know that there were some hot guys helping out with town square decorations and pageant prep and that Lia should go down and distract them. The emoticon winked at her.

  Like that would ever happen. Sure, Christmas Town had some undeniably good looking guys, but the best always had their eyes on someone else. Lia couldn’t blame them. Nor was she interested. She usually had her eyes and heart focused on grungy or bleeding critters who needed saving, and that grunge usually ended up on her. Pair that with not bothering much with makeup or chic haircuts from Carols and Curls and she wasn’t exactly the kind of babe that was on a guy’s Christmas wish list. At least not in her opinion…or her mom’s or sister’s if their nudges to pamper herself once-in-a-while—especially for the annual Christmas Eve pageant held annually at the town square—were any hint.

  She passed The Bell, Book & Candle Shoppe, open later than usual for the holidays, and resisted the urge to browse their sale. This yea
r, gifts were going to revolve around the theme of “it’s the thought that counts”. Lucky for her, the folks of Christmas Town, with its old-fashioned Christmas flair, had a love of homespun gifts. Being able to find things like hand-made quilts attracted a good number of tourists and plumped up the town’s revenue, but Lia couldn’t quilt, knit or make beeswax candles, let alone do anything cute and crafty.

  “I’ll figure something out,” she said, glancing over at Storm. He stretched his paws, claws extending past the tufts of hair on his toes, and yawned. “That’s right. So long as you’re happy and well fed, that’s all that matters.”

  She passed Reindeer Meadow at the edge of town and within a couple of minutes, was parked in front of Holly Haven.

  The original structure had been an old mobile home that someone had sold to her family farm years ago, back when their farm was still a working one. The mobile home had been used as a roadside stand for selling fresh fruits and vegetables all summer and pumpkins in the fall. The farm manager at the time had added a wooden porch and a sloped roof to handle their heavy snows. Stones had also been gathered on the farm to frame a garden bed around it. But it hadn’t served farming purposes in years. Not since her father’s health had spiraled downward. Since his death, apart from cash-renting pasture land to a neighboring farmer, the only work at Two Sticks revolved around Amy’s Kid Speak practice and Lia’s shelter. Right now, surrounded by a winter wonderland of holly trees that shaded several outdoor animal enclosures, Holly Haven looked more like a hobbit hole than anything else. The snow that had begun melting a few hours ago was refreezing, giving the roof an icy-smooth surface that glistened in the early evening sun. She hopped out and reached into the back for an extra large cat carrier.

  “Sorry, buddy, but you know the rules,” she said, reaching in to hoist Storm off his throne. Not only was he an indoors-only cat for his own safety—he’d already been lost and through hell once—but for the safety of the local bird population too. Lia wasn’t about to let him be an accomplice in the murder of millions of songbirds killed annually by cats. Nope. Not her Stormy.

  “I have no idea how I’m going to carry you and everything else up the trail before dark,” she muttered as she trudged towards Holly Haven’s entrance. It didn’t matter what time it was, she needed to make sure everyone had been fed and tended to for the night. Thank goodness for Molly, a high school senior who had her sights set on vet school. She’d been helping Lia out on weekends and holidays for the past year to gain experience and fulfill the community service hours she needed to graduate. Without her, Lia wouldn’t have had time to pack and move. She didn’t let Molly handle all species that came through—especially not if they were dangerous—but helping out with washing and disinfecting towels and feeders used in cages made a huge difference. And Lia was still counting her blessings that Molly had been around during spring break to help with keeping three orphaned baby robins fed every fifteen minutes.

  Luckily, Holly Haven wasn’t at full capacity this week, but Lia needed to relieve Molly of duty and check on the red-tailed hawk they’d taken in after he was found with a gunshot wound. An illegal shooting of a migratory bird. It sickened her.

  “I’m back,” she called out, giving her boots a quick stomp and setting Storm’s carrier by the door.

  “Hey,” Molly said, looking over her shoulder as she wiped down the food prep counter. “I got everything on the list done and everyone’s looking good. Oh, Dr. Garrett called to see if Stardust was still stable and said to call him if you needed anything.”

  “Hey, boy. How are you doing?” Lia asked, peering into the hawk’s cage. Dr. Garrett, the town’s veterinarian, volunteered time and discounted services whenever she had a patient who needed emergency surgery or even spays and neuters for adoptable pets. He’d taken care of Stardust’s wound after Lia had found him lying near a bush in the woods.

  “Man, it ticks me off when people shoot an innocent creature. I wish we could find whoever did this so they can pay their dues,” she said.

  “I know. It kills me too,” Molly said. She joined Lia at the cage and crossed her arms. “He’s been drinking and eating, though.”

  “Good.” She looked over at their largest and nicest cage on the right wall. “Hey, Firefly. Make him feel at home while we’re gone, okay?” Firefly, their permanent resident Peregrine Falcon who, due to injuries, would never fly again, cocked her head and blinked at Lia. “I wasn’t doubting you, Firefly. I know you will,” Lia said.

  “Dr. Garret seemed disappointed that you weren’t here.” Molly smiled.

  “What? I don’t think so,” Lia said, straightening her back and heading over to check the patient log.

  “I could hear it in his voice.”

  “You’re hearing things. I’m not his type and he’s not mine.”

  “Oh, come on, Ms. Logan. You both love animals and who else wouldn’t think that talking to animals is—”

  “Molly, I don’t talk to animals. Much. Have my mom or sister gotten to you?” Lia set her clipboard down and gaped at Molly before she could answer. “I don’t believe it. Mom gave you first-batch gingerbread ornaments, didn’t she?”

  “I’m not supposed to say,” Molly said, quite willingly.

  “For the record, I don’t care how many folks she’s bribed into match-making, I won’t be kissing anyone on Christmas Eve…or New Year’s for that matter.”

  Just how many first batches of first-batch ornaments had Cass made?

  “I knew I couldn’t pull it off. Not with you. But I had nothing to lose trying.” Molly shrugged. “You and Dr. Garrett would look cute together,” she emphasized with a dramatic wave of her hand. “And you wouldn’t have said no to your mom’s gingerbread either.”

  Lia laughed at her high school notion of romance and had to admit that no one turned down gingerbread ornaments.

  “You need to get home. I don’t want you driving on these roads after dark and there’s more snow in the forecast. Call your parents to let them know you’re on your way? Text me once you’re home. And thanks for all your help. Except for the match-making,” she added, shaking her finger at Molly, but smiling all the same.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Molly slipped into her down jacket, grabbed her keys off the hook and was out the door.

  Lia locked up after making sure everyone was set for the night. Her mornings started well before dawn. If she was to get any sleep, she needed to get going. She grabbed her hiking backpack out of a narrow closet and headed to the parking lot with Storm.

  “I’ll just have to come back for the rest tomorrow,” she said, stuffing her laptop and a few essentials and cleaning items in the backpack. She held Storm’s carrier in one hand, the bag full of leftovers in the other and began her trek up the snow covered path that disappeared into the woods behind Holly Haven.

  “This is it, Stormy. Let’s just hope that whoever shot Stardust isn’t trespassing on Logan property.” The woods had always felt safe to Lia. For some reason, as the sun set, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

  She took a left where the path forked. Evergreens blocked most of the remaining sunlight, but their branches had also kept the snow along the path from getting too deep. Little blessings. Man, she loved the woods. She began singing a Christmas carol, but the tall, dark shape of a man raising an axe lodged the words in her throat. Blood rushed to her head and she tried screaming, but her voice never passed her lips.

  Chapter 2

  “Don’t move!” Lia said, finally squeezing her voice past the erratic pulse at the base of her throat. “I have an attack dog in here.” She dropped the bag of food and grabbed the zipper on the carrier with her gloved hand. Maine Coon. Dog. Close enough. Why in the world had she tucked her cell phone into her backpack?

  “Wait! It’s not what you think!” The man tossed the axe onto the side of the path and raised his palms in the air, glancing skeptically at the carrier. “I was about to chop wood. I swear.”
/>   “Right. And I was looking for faeries. You’re trespassing on private property. Who are you?”

  “The name is Quinn and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I was out hiking with my son and it started getting dark, so when we came across the old cabin over there, I thought it best to camp out for the night.” He fingered over his shoulder to the clearing where the cabin was, less than ten yards away.

  “Where’s your son?” Lia asked, becoming ultra aware of any possible sound or movement coming from her sides or behind her. One guy, she could handle. But if this son of his was planning an ambush, she needed her cell fast. She slowly reached behind her and fumbled at the mesh pocket.

  “He’s just a kid. He’s taking nap in the cabin. I swear. Look, follow me and I’ll prove it. We mean no harm. We just need a place until the weather passes and the sun comes up.”

  Lia narrowed her eyes. The man—Quinn—had to be a good six feet tall. A week’s worth of stubble shaded his jaw and a ski cap was pulled down low on his forehead. He didn’t look much older than maybe his mid to late thirties, but the crow’s feet tugging at the corners of his brown eyes and their red rims gave him a run-down and ragged look. Not typical of a Christmas Town visitor. What if there really was a young kid in the cabin? How did she know this guy wasn’t a kidnapper? Or an axe-wielding psycho. She knew there were people out there who couldn’t handle holiday stress…just not around here. Everyone in town lived for the holidays. This guy was definitely not from Christmas Town. And he expected her to follow him to a cabin in the woods? Her life was turning into a Grimm fairy tale and she wasn’t even an old hag yet.