The Inn at Holiday Bay Books 7 - 9
Page 1
The Inn at Holiday Bay
Books 7 – 9
By
Kathi Daley
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Katherine Daley
Version 1.0
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Table of Contents
Note in the Nutcracker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Blizzard in the Bay
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Proof in the Photo
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
The Inn at Holiday Bay:
Note in the Nutcracker
by
Kathi Daley
Chapter 1
Twas a week before Christmas and all through the inn… I paused and smiled at my computer screen. I’d been trying to work on the thriller that was due to my editor in less than two months, but all I’d come up with were meaningless phrases that seemed to pop in my head as huge snowflakes drifted gently to the ground outside my window. I had to admit that when combined with the scent of evergreen from the bushy fir in the corner of my bedroom, the bright red bows I’d tied to my bedposts, and the gentle snoring generated by my Maine Coon cat, Rufus, as he slept soundly on my pillow, the setting really was quite magical.
“How about some background music?” I said to my dog, Molly, who was laying on a dog pillow next to my feet. She thumped her tail in agreement as I turned on the radio to the gentle lyrics of O Holy Night. The popular carol generated feelings of nostalgia, which caused me to lean back in my chair, close my eyes, and really embrace the perfection of the moment. Taking a deep breath, I allowed my thoughts to turn to the cookies my best friend and roommate, Georgia Carter, was baking in the kitchen. In addition to being the manager of the inn I’d purchased on a whim just over a year ago, she was a heck of a good cook and baker. Her reputation for original and creative dishes had earned her a place in a Christmas cookie contest that was going to be aired on local cable during the Christmas Eve edition of the popular show Coastal Maine Living. The competition was open to entrants across the country, so being chosen as a contestant in the final round was actually a really big thing, and Georgia had been trying out new recipes for weeks.
After a moment of blissful serenity, I opened my eyes and looked back toward the computer screen. I exited the page where I’d been doodling thoughts of Christmas past, present, and future and returned my attention to my work in progress. I had to admit if only to myself, that I really didn’t have much. The title page was pretty awesome: Currents from the Past by New York Times Bestselling Author Abagail Sullivan.
I smiled once again. I loved being a writer and really wouldn’t give it up for any other profession, but I had to wonder if my decision to leave the romance genre for books that were classified as thriller and suspense hadn’t been a mistake. Given my total lack of usable words in spite of the hours I’d spent sitting at my computer, I was fairly certain my doubt as to the direction my career had taken was justified. The last thriller I’d published had been a huge success, and I knew I should ride that wave, but somehow writing about serial killers and husbands with deep dark secrets didn’t fill the space in my soul the way writing about family, holidays, best friends, and the perfect guy once had.
Maybe I needed to step away from my career and think about a change. Of course, Currents from the Past was under contract, so I did have that to deal with.
I might not be able to shelve my work in progress and write the story my soul was yearning to write at this very minute, but I could take a break and see if Georgia needed a taste tester for her latest creation. Having different types of cookies to taste each day had been a lot of fun and oh so delicious, but I supposed if I didn’t get up out of my chair and get some exercise, I’d end December ten pounds heavier than I’d started the month.
“Oh, good,” Georgia said as I emerged from the bedroom, which also served as my office. “I’m ready for today’s tasting.”
“You know I’m here for you,” I smiled.
She passed me a tray. “These are chocolate pralines. They are really more of a candy, but I modified the recipe somewhat so they would qualify as a cookie.”
I took a bite. “They’re delicious. Are those hazelnuts I taste?”
Georgia grinned and nodded. “There are hazelnuts in the recipe, along with fine oats, gingerbread spice, three types of chocolate, and a lot of other good quality ingredients.”
“I really like them.” I took another bite. “A lot. I’m not sure if I like these or the creamy caramel and pecan cookies you made yesterday better. Of course, the cherry fizz delights you made the day before that were delicious as well. In fact, everything you’ve tried has been so wonderful that I’m not sure how you will choose which recipe to enter in the contest.”
Georgia washed her hands and then dried them on a Christmas towel. The kitchen in the cottage, like the rest of the cottage where Georgia and I lived, had received the full holiday treatment. “I’m having the guests at the inn taste the cookies I make while they are with us. Then before they leave, I ask them to rank the cookies they’ve tasted. So far, everyone has been happy to help out. I know that folks have favorites based on their own personal tastes, but I’m hoping that in the end, the best recipe will win out. And even if I don’t get the feedback I’m hoping for, I think the guests enjoy the extra treats and the opportunity to be involved.”
“I bet they do. Taste testing your recipes is indeed a sweet gig.” I popped the final bite of my cookie into my mouth.
“Jeremy and Annabelle have been providing their input as well, which really helps on those days we don’t have guests. I think Jeremy liked the double fudge chocolates I baked last week, and Annabelle is still talking about the peppermint creams.”
Jeremy Slater worked at the inn and lived in the converted basement, along with his eight-year-old niece, Annabelle, who was living with Jeremy while her mother was working overseas. Jeremy took care of the heavy work required to keep the inn running, such as snow removal, yard maintenance, and general repairs, while Georgia acted as the inn manager, head cook, and marketing guru.
“Spe
aking of guests,” I said after a brief pause. “I remember seeing we have a whole new group checking in this week. Will they be with us through the holiday?”
Georgia nodded. “If you remember, we discussed the fact that it would be easier and more relaxing to have long-term guests over the Christmas holiday rather than guests checking in and out every day, so I experimented with a seven day minimum over Christmas.”
“And did you get many takers?”
“Actually, I did. In fact, all of the guests who will be with us for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day will be with us for between seven and fourteen days. The first of these long-term guests will be checking in tomorrow.”
That did sound good. I’d found that our guests quickly became family, and it would be nice to have a bit more consistency over the holiday. “So, who do we have checking in this week?”
Georgia began putting food away while I grabbed a second cookie. I figured if I gained too much weight and needed to diet, I could get to it once January rolled around. “The first of our Christmas arrivals is a woman named Mylie Sanders. Mylie is checking in tomorrow and will be with us for a full fourteen days. She is coming to Holiday Bay to meet her soulmate.”
“Soulmate?”
Georgia began filling the sink with sudsy water. “Mylie recently turned thirty, which I think got her biological clock ticking. When she made the reservation, she told me that a psychic told her that if she spent Christmas in Holiday Bay, she would meet her one true love. She wasn’t sure exactly how long she needed to be here, so she decided on two weeks.”
“So, she thinks she will meet her one true love here at the inn?” I clarified.
Georgia answered. “She wasn’t really sure if she would meet the man of her dreams here at the inn, or if she’d meet him in town, but the psychic did suggest that she stay at the inn, so she booked a room. As I mentioned, she checks in tomorrow, and will be with us through New Year’s.”
“I can’t wait to meet Mylie. She sounds like an interesting woman.”
“We actually spoke on the phone for quite a while,” Georgia said. “She seemed cheerful and energetic, and I really think she’ll be a fun individual to get to know. And with the added mystery of the man the psychic predicted, I’m sure her stay will be entertaining for all of us.”
I broke off a corner of the cookie. “Do we have any single men of comparable age staying with us at the same time that Mylie will be here?”
“Three,” Georgia answered. “Which, if you think about it, is pretty unusual. So far, single men in their thirties have not really been our target clientele, although admittedly, we have had a few thirtyish men who have stayed with us while they were in town for reasons related to jobs.”
“Such as Ryan Steadman when he was here to interview at the bank and Noah Daniels while he was here for his job interview for the church.”
“Exactly.”
“So, who are the three lucky bachelors who will be staying with us this month?” I asked.
“Riley Camden is checking in on Friday and will also be here through New Year’s,” Georgia answered. “He is thirty-two, single, and in town to do a story on the seasonal offerings that can be found in Holiday Bay and the surrounding area.”
“So, he’s a travel writer?”
She nodded. “He writes a travel blog. I checked it out, and it’s really rather good, and it has a huge audience. Riley’s blog is a weekly offering with over a hundred thousand followers. I’m hoping to convince him to give the inn a shout out at some point during his stay. I figure that a shout out in a blog with that sort of circulation could really boost our reservations. Especially if we can get him to include photos and a schedule of special events.”
I reached down and picked up a bright red ornament that one of the animals had knocked off the tree and had rolled across the room. “That would be fantastic. Especially if he will publish the event schedule. And I agree that if Riley has a nice time with us and he writes about his experience during his stay, the added publicity could really help us. Let’s be sure to give him the VIP treatment.”
Georgia giggled. “I give everyone the VIP treatment.”
I supposed she did. In many ways, Georgia was more like an Inn Mother than a mere manager. “So, who are Mylie’s other two potential suitors?”
“Andrew Madison. He is a thirty-four-year-old forensic accountant who will be in town to visit his great aunt. He checks in on Sunday and will be with us through December twenty-ninth. I guess Andrew spent quite a bit of time here in Holiday Bay as a child since his parents traveled extensively. During those times when his parents were away touring the world, Andrew would come to Holiday Bay and stay with his aunt. When we spoke on the phone, he mentioned that those childhood summers are some of the best times in his life.”
“A career as a forensic accountant seems both interesting and impressive,” I commented. “And I love the fact that he is in town to spend the holiday with his aunt. He sounds like he would make a good husband.”
“That’s what I thought when I spoke to him. Of course, Mylie isn’t here just to find a husband. She is here to find her soulmate. I’m not sure exactly how one is to determine who is and who is not a soulmate, but I imagine that Mylie is looking for a deeper relationship than just a vacation fling.”
“Based on what you’ve said, I’m sure that’s true.” I got up, replaced the ornament on the tree, and then I headed to the refrigerator for a glass of milk to go with the rest of my cookie. “So, who is bachelor number three?”
“Mark Westgate. Mark is checking in on Saturday and will be with us through December twenty-seventh. He is a successful developer who will be in town to purchase a piece of property where he hopes to build a high-end resort over the next two years. He is single, although based on what I’ve dug up, it seems he is single because he is married to his job. Still, he appears to be smart, and according to the photo on his website, he is also very good looking. He may be too much of a workaholic for Mylie, but at thirty-eight, he might be feeling ready to settle down. I spoke to Lacy about it, and she actually thinks Mark is a good candidate.”
Lacy Parker was a good friend and the wife of my contractor, Lonnie Parker. The couple had six children who I adored.
“Anyone else with theories as to Mylie’s perfect match at this point?” I wondered.
Georgia dipped her hands into the sink full of sudsy water. “Jeremy thinks that she’ll end up going for someone gorgeous like Riley, and Nikki has voiced her opinion that she will probably go for a guy like Andrew, who seems settled and dependable.” Nikki Peyton was our neighbor, and Georgia’s boyfriend, Tanner Peyton’s, younger sister. She worked part-time at the inn, helping out with the laundry and cleaning.
“And what do you think?” I asked.
“I think that someone like Riley seems the most interesting. Although it sounds as if Mylie is looking for settled and not interesting.”
“I would agree with that. So, it sounds like Mylie and her bachelors will occupy four of the six rooms. Who will be occupying the other two?”
“Christy and Haley Baldwin will be in the attic room,” Georgia answered. “I wasn’t sure we’d be able to fit her in, but I had a few cancellations, and I juggled things around so that we can accommodate her for her entire stay in Holiday Bay.”
I found myself smiling. “I’m so glad it worked for Christy and Haley to be with us. I’ve really missed them.” Christy was a widow, who had brought her daughter, Haley, to Holiday Bay last month to spend Thanksgiving with her deceased husband’s parents. During her stay over Thanksgiving, we’d discussed the fact that her in-laws wanted her to move to Holiday Bay where they could help out, but Christy had reservations due mostly to the fact that she feared her in-laws might try to take over her life as well as Haley’s if they lived in such close proximity. Christy wanted her daughter to know her father’s parents, but at what cost? Although Christy did have an added incentive to make the move. During her stay in November, she
’d met Noah Daniels who’d been staying at the inn, while in town to interview for the position as the new pastor for the community’s church. He’d taken the job and had settled into his new home in town. During the time both guests were at the inn, it seemed that Noah and Christy had really hit it off, and, in my opinion, if they had the opportunity to spend more time together, they might even end up making a connection of the romantic kind.
“I spoke to Christy at length yesterday,” Georgia informed me as she bent down to greet Molly, who had wandered out of the bedroom. Molly offered her a paw and was rewarded with a piece of a homemade dog cookie Georgia kept on hand. Of course, that had her Newfoundland, Ramos, lumbering over from his place in front of the fire as well. “She and Haley are both very excited about coming to Holiday Bay for Christmas, and they are extra excited that they are going to be able to spend the entire two weeks with us. They arrive on December nineteenth, and will be with us until January second.”
“And the sixth room?” I asked.
“Bud and Beth Trenton. I’m afraid their story is a bit sadder. They lost their only son in Afghanistan last year and didn’t want to stay home where they would be reminded of him at every turn, yet they also didn’t want to skip Christmas, so they decided on a holiday at the coast. They saw our ad and thought the inn would be a perfect place to nurse their broken hearts. They will be with us for just one week and will check in on December twenty-third.”
Now my heart was breaking. I knew what it was like to lose a child. I’d lost my infant son two years ago, so I understood how devastated they must feel. I had to give them credit for not just taking to their bed and pulling the blankets over their heads until January. That is exactly what I’d done that first year. “We’ll be sure they have a special holiday that honors their son and creates a space in their hearts for healing.”
Georgia smiled warmly at me. “That is one of the reasons why I adore you. You seem to know exactly what to say.”