Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat

by Angela Britnell

  About the Book

  Christmas at Black Cherry Retreat

  by Angela Britnell

  What if you had nowhere to call home for Christmas?

  When Fee Winter books a winter break at the remote Black Cherry Retreat in the small town of Pine Ridge, Tennessee, it’s with the idea that the peace and quiet will help her recuperate from her hectic life as a photographer.

  But what she didn’t bank on was meeting Tom Chambers and his huge, interfering yet lovable family. With them, could Fee finally experience the warmth and support that’s been missing from her own life – and maybe even find a place to call home in time for Christmas?

  Where heroes are like chocolate – irresistible!

  www.choc-lit.com

  Contents

  About the Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Thank You

  About the Author

  More Choc Lit

  Introducing Choc Lit

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright information

  Preview of Love Me for a Reason by Angela Britnell

  Chapter One

  Getting away from it all was supposed to be good for Fee’s health but at this precise moment she was more stressed than ever. She’d spent the last fifteen years working in some of the most dangerous places in the world so a slow meandering drive along the back roads of East Tennessee should be a cinch but the lack of traffic and people made her uneasy. Fee had stopped the car to study the old-fashioned paper map because her cell phone signal had given up five minutes earlier and she couldn’t convince herself she was headed in the right direction.

  She trailed her finger along the winding curves on the map and guessed it’d be about another five miles. Fee rested her back against the bonnet of her rental car and forced herself to take a good look around, trying to take her London therapist’s advice to live in the moment. She sucked in deep breaths of the crisp mountain air which she figured must be better for her lungs than the searing dusty heat of Afghanistan or the recent monsoon season she’d endured in Mumbai. Even to her jaded eyes the fall colours, ranging from a soft buttery yellow to a chilli pepper red were a stunning assault on the senses and a tiny nugget of hope sneaked into her.

  Panic attacks. Borderline dependency issues. Insomnia. A stiff left knee thanks to a fall in the Syrian mountains. It wasn’t a happy list. The last doctor she saw warned her she wouldn’t live to see her fortieth birthday next year if she didn’t change her ways. At the time she’d bit back the reply filling her head – that she wasn’t sure she cared much either way.

  Fee gulped down the last of her Coke and promised herself as soon as she arrived at the isolated cabin she’d condemned herself to for the next month she’d brush her teeth. That way she wouldn’t need to add a root canal to her to-do list.

  Twenty minutes later she was re-thinking her map reading prowess. She eased the car around yet another sharp ninety-degree turn and slammed on her brakes.

  Black Cherry Retreat. A simple carved wood sign by the side of the road caught her eye and she spotted a narrow track disappearing off into the distance. My God, they really did mean remote. She could head back down the mountain and reach the Knoxville airport in about an hour. An overnight flight across the Atlantic and she’d be back in London. Maybe returning to work would be the best cure.

  The lingering acid in the base of her stomach stirred up and forced her to swallow hard. Fee’s hands shook and eerily familiar waves of panic swept over her.

  ‘Hey, are you all right, honey?’

  A man’s soft, deep voice penetrated a corner of her brain and she jerked around to stare out of the side window. Fee tried to compose herself as the stranger pushed back the brim of his well-worn, black cowboy hat and peered in at her.

  She managed to nod and glanced at the battered white pick-up truck he’d been driving when she came to an abrupt stop in front of him. Thank goodness he was paying attention or he’d have smashed right into her bumper. He gestured for her to roll down the window but she shook her head.

  ‘You goin’ up to the cabins?’ he asked. Fee didn’t answer. For all she knew he could be the local axe-murderer. ‘I’m Tom Chambers. I own Black Cherry Retreat. Sorry if I startled you.’ He stepped away from her car and hooked his large thumbs in the belt loops of his faded jeans. Fee’s gaze ran up over his large, solid frame, noticing the sort of muscles acquired through hard outdoor work.

  Most people are decent, Fee, you need to learn to give them a chance.

  Doctor Michael’s words snaked into her head and with her heart speeding like a Formula One race car she pressed the button to open her window.

  ‘It’s not a problem.’ Fee was surprised how calm and normal she sounded. It was huge progress from the meltdown she’d have gone into a month ago. ‘I’m Fee Winter. We’ve been in touch by email. I’ve booked one of your cabins for a month.’

  A slow smile crept over his face warming something deep inside her. No one would describe Tom Chambers as conventionally good-looking but his air of quiet confidence would no doubt always catch a woman’s eye. He’d obviously been around the block a few times and it was reflected in every fine line and tanned crease of his interesting face. ‘I’ve been into town picking up a few supplies. Follow me on up and I’ll get y’all settled in. You sure picked a pretty day to come, of course around here that’s mostly what we get.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be biased, would you?’ she jibed, surprising herself. It’d been a long time since she’d teased a strange man.

  ‘Nah, never. The fact I’ve lived most of my life within ten miles of the house where I was born and plan to die here, buried next to eight generations of Chambers, has nothing to do with it.’

  A pang of envy swamped Fee at the man’s casual description of his life. He’d be completely bewildered by her nomadic existence and might even feel sorry for her – something she wholeheartedly detested. ‘How unadventurous,’ she commented. He didn’t reply but a muscle twitched in his clean-shaven, square jaw giving away the fact that her rudeness struck home.

  For a couple of seconds they stared at each other until Fee blinked and glanced back down at the steerin
g wheel. She considered apologising, but bit her tongue to stop herself. She had nothing to be sorry for.

  ‘Some might say so.’ He pushed his hat back into place and turned away to climb back into his truck, his long legs disappearing inside in one smooth move. Tom fired up his engine and manoeuvred in front of her to head up the road, leaving Fee with little choice but to follow.

  Tom checked in the rear-view mirror to make sure he hadn’t lost his new guest. Whatever or whoever had put the wind up her had done a top-notch job. Objectively he’d say Fee Winter was a decent-looking woman although a touch too straight up and down for his taste. His preference ran to petite women with soft curves a man could … He stopped his mental rambling right there. He wouldn’t be investigating his new guest in any way, shape or form.

  Once a cop always a cop, bro. His older brother’s casual remark last time they were together popped back into his head. Tom silently used the same expletive he’d shut Sandy up with. The past was the past. Line drawn. End of story.

  Tom slowed down and drove along the narrow gravel road skirting Black Cherry Lake. He stopped outside his own cabin where he’d taken one room as the resort office and jumped out. Slamming the truck door he waited for Fee to park and join him.

  ‘The six guest cabins are all on this side of the lake. This one is mine and the resort office is in here.’ He gestured towards the building next to them. ‘How about we go in and get the paperwork out of the way?’ Fee didn’t move. She stood by her car door, grasping the handle as if she planned to make a quick escape. ‘Is that okay?’ Finally she gave a brief nod and Tom caught her quick intake of breath. What the hell was up with her?

  Tom leapt up the couple of steps to open the door and stood back to one side. After a few seconds’ hesitation she stepped inside and he followed her in. Taking care to give her plenty of space, Tom walked around her and led the way into his office and sat down at the desk.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind signing these and giving me your credit card details I’ll show you to your cabin.’ She didn’t say a word but passed over her card before beginning to read the forms he put down on the desk in front of her with great care.

  Tom launched into his standard spiel about how the resort came into being. Most people were interested to hear that the land had been in the Chambers family for nearly two hundred years but Fee showed no interest in asking any questions. He’d spent the last ten years restoring the cabins that had originally been built in the 1860s. Tom had saved the buildings from collapse and they’d done the same for him, but he omitted that part because no one needed his sob story.

  ‘Feel free to come by if you need anything or have any problems with the cabin. I’m usually around but if I’m not just leave me a note and I’ll get around to it soon as I can. Otherwise I leave guests to themselves.’ A brief flash of gratitude brightened her sharp blue eyes leaving him strangely pleased to have said something right at last.

  Tom pointed across the hall. ‘I’ve recently fitted out a communal room for guests to use. There’s a TV and DVD player set up with a selection of movies, books and a few board games. If people want company they’ll sometimes come over and hang out here. I’ve even done a couple of barbecues and we’ve all eaten together. But no pressure, ever.’

  Fee nodded and cleared her throat. ‘Thank you.’

  Wow, she’d granted him two more words – he’d hit pay dirt. ‘There’s no internet or cell phone service here, but you knew that. You can drive back down into Pine Ridge for supplies. I’d say it’s the nearest town but that’s kind of an exaggeration.’ He smiled, but her unrevealing expression didn’t alter. ‘There’s Wi-Fi available in the Mockingbird Cafe along with the best biscuits this side of Knoxville. Of course my aunt makes them so again you’d call me biased.’ Tom didn’t miss the slight upturn in her mouth, giving the first hint of softness to her severe features. Everything about Fee Winter was pared down from her thin dark-framed glasses, short black hair, cheekbones sharp enough to hang clothes on and lean muscular legs. ‘Your phone will work there too. I’ve got a radio here to use for emergencies.’

  ‘Fine.’

  Tom grabbed a set of keys from the board. ‘Okay, let’s get you settled. Yours is the second cabin along and is called Knox. I named them all after local counties here in East Tennessee. If you drive over and park outside I’ll walk along to meet you there.’

  ‘You could ride with me.’ She stumbled over the words and the small amount of colour in her skin drained away.

  ‘Thanks but I could do with stretching my legs.’

  ‘Why, aren’t they long enough?’ she quipped.

  Tom chuckled. ‘Hey, you do have a sense of humour in there after all, even if it is a weird British one.’ A rush of heat flamed her cheeks and he guessed she’d take back her words if she could. ‘Sorry. That was rude. Mama would smack me if she heard me talking this way.’

  She inclined her serious face in a nod and briskly walked back outside without saying another word.

  Tom trailed after her and set off walking across the damp grass. It was a more direct route than the narrow road and he easily beat her to the cabin. He wasn’t a boastful man but when he looked at Knox Cabin he felt a quiet sense of achievement. If he left nothing else behind preserving this small piece of his family history wasn’t a bad legacy.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  Fee’s surprisingly gentle voice next to his shoulder took him by surprise and he turned to meet her appreciative gaze head-on.

  ‘Yeah, it is.’ He risked carrying on, afraid to break the thin thread of communication strung between them. ‘They sure knew how to build. No modern tools. No decent plans. Hell of a leap of faith.’

  ‘It must’ve taken a lot of time and work on your part to get it back to this.’

  ‘The best things always do.’

  Fee’s eyes shone, the way women’s do when they are about to cry. Too afraid to ask whether he’d said anything wrong Tom stayed silent and she glanced away. ‘Right. I’ll show you around and then leave you alone.’

  ‘Good idea, Mr Chambers.’

  Damn right. He’d make his escape as fast as possible and stay gone. Black Cherry was his refuge too.

  Chapter Two

  Fee couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to make a joke about Tom’s legs. It gave completely the wrong impression – one of friendliness and maybe more. Her sole purpose in coming here was to begin the long, slow path back to a level of balance in her life. But something about the genuine warmth in Tom Chambers’ deep brown eyes and his frank, open smile had thrown her off kilter.

  She picked up her two small bags and headed down the narrow hall to the bedroom. Fee stood in the doorway and admired the polished wood floor, unadorned windows and stone-clad fireplace. Neat, clean and practical, it fitted her sensibilities down to the ground. The simple wood-framed double bed wasn’t piled with unnecessary pillows and the green and white cross-stitch quilt screamed warmth and comfort. Maybe giving up her sleeping pills would be possible here.

  Five minutes later she’d hung her few clothes in the small wardrobe and stowed her underwear and odds and ends away in the solid oak chest of drawers. Years of nomadic living meant she travelled light, moving in and out of her latest abode in far less time than most women took to apply their make-up in the morning.

  Fee wandered into the bathroom next door and happily checked out the perfect combination of a modern shower and antique bathtub. She’d gone without proper facilities for weeks on end but it’d only given her a deep appreciation for good plumbing when it was on offer. As she spread her paltry array of toiletries out on the narrow glass shelf a piercing memory slammed back and Fee gasped for breath.

  On the last morning with Pierre she’d teased him about being the only man to wear designer cologne in a war zone. He’d laughed and blown her a kiss as he stepped out of the front door of the press hotel in Kabul. Fee lifted her camera to capture the moment but seconds later he stepped on one o
f the notorious IEDs and blew up in front of her eyes. She’d carried on taking photos through the tears streaming down her face and when she discovered his betrayal later it’d only made his death more painful.

  Sinking to her knees on the cold tiled floor she let the tears flow.

  ‘Hey, honey, are you okay?’

  Strong arms lifted her up to her feet and a masculine scent of plain soap and heat sneaked into her awareness. Fee’s eyes flew open and she registered the fact she was plastered against Tom Chambers’ broad chest. He stubbornly held onto her as she tried to jerk away.

  ‘I’ll let go when I’m sure you’re not going to fall down again.’ His deep, soft drawl eased her fear. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. There you go.’ Tom assured her as he dropped his hands away.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I came with your towels. When I set up this morning they were still in the dryer. I knocked but you didn’t reply and I heard you crying through the open window. I couldn’t ignore it.’

  ‘I wish you had.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet you do.’

  ‘Uh, the towels?’

  ‘I dropped them in the other room when I came looking for you. I’ll go and fetch them.’ Tom hurried away and she rested her hands against the edge of the washbasin.

  Fee refused to look at her reflection, knowing it’d be the pale, tight, strained visage that had become her new normal. She ran the cold tap and scooped up the freezing water to splash over her face and neck.

  ‘There you go.’

  She snatched the soft white towel he thrust into her hand and rubbed at her skin until it burned.

  ‘Better?’

  She managed to nod and turned back to face him. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I’ll leave you alone, unless …’ Tom shook his head. ‘Forget it.’

  ‘What? It isn’t easy to forget something you didn’t hear in the first place.’

  ‘Forgot my golden rule.’ He shrugged. ‘Leave the guests alone.’

  Fee couldn’t resist a tiny smile. ‘What were you going to suggest?’

  ‘Only coffee,’ he protested. For some reason she found his obvious embarrassment endearing. ‘You looked so damn miserable,’ Tom mumbled and stared at the floor, toeing the edge of the small patchwork rug with his worn boots.