Leela settled in beside him on the couch, sliding off her shoes and lifting her feet onto the ottoman, nearer the fire.
“Dr. Harrison has his attorney drawing up paperwork.” Jay wrapped a tendril of Leela’s hair around his fingertip. While Leela prepared for the dance, Jay had been mapping his next career move. And it didn’t involve moving anywhere, except permanently to Massey Falls.
“Already?”
“He’s anxious to get his hands on the prize.” Just like Jay was.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” She leaned her head against his chest, locking into a perfect fit in his arms. “You had a deadline today for signing to purchase a place in a veterinary clinic. You just didn’t know you’d end up signing papers to be the next large animal vet in Massey Falls.”
Dr. Harrison would be interesting to work with until he retired in a year or two. Jay still had a lot to learn, and Dr. Harrison seemed anxious to show him. Plus, Jay would get to practice the type of veterinary medicine he loved most, and Whitmore Thoroughbreds even offered him a position as their track-side vet for future races at Torrey Stakes.
“Things sometimes don’t work out the way you think, but they end up being a whole lot better.” He pressed a kiss into her hair.
“Burt bumped into me today when he came through to buy cookies. He probably just wants to know if he can count on the listing. He knows you’re not selling to Una Mae, understandably, but he wants to know—are you going to sell the Layton Mansion?” A tightness tugged in her voice.
Couldn’t she see where he’d been headed with all this stay in Massey Falls stuff? He’d better make his intentions clearer—even if it meant moving things at a faster pace than most guys would deem prudent. “Well, I can’t very well sell the Layton Mansion now.”
“What do you mean?” Leela pulled out from beneath his arm and curled around to look at him. “Why not sell? It’s so valuable. Think what you could do with that windfall.”
“The truth is”—he cupped her chin with his hand— “you’ve shown me its real value.”
Her eyes softened. “And what is that?”
“As a place for a family.”
“Whose”—her voice trembled—“family would that be, Jay?”
“Well, my own, for starters.” Jay traced a circle on the back of Leela’s hand. “I did what you asked.”
“What did I ask?”
“I called my mom. I invited her to see the house. Sent a few snapshots over the phone.”
“Oh?” Leela’s breath bated. “And?”
“And she said she’d think about it. She said it looked like a lot of junk had been cleared out, and that maybe it was time to clear out some of her own junk. Actually, she got especially interested when I told her we’d found the journal. And that I had met someone special in Massey Falls.”
“Did you mean … me?” He’d mentioned her? “Does she know I’m Freesia’s daughter?”
“I think I’ll spring that on her later.”
Good plan. “You said, for starters.” Leela didn’t want to press—but she wanted to press. “What family do you have in mind for this house after the starters?”
“Let me draw you a mental picture.” He described the rooms, the way they could fill them, with her father, their children, her baking projects, their large dog, their future lives together.
“I can see it, too, Jay. Plain as the firelight.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lower lip linger on her soft skin. “You recall, when that woman asked you to take over the Ladies’ Auxiliary, I mentioned you might have other commitments.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“I recall.” Leela’s eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed a kiss upon the lid of her left eye, and then upon her right, eliciting a sigh. “Like what?”
He’d like to elicit a lot more sighs, just like that one. “Like, for instance, being my precious companion.” To which she giggled, and he kissed her mouth softly, teasing her into a return kiss, warm like the fire he’d built for them. “And sharing raw cookie dough with me, right off the spoon.” He kissed her again. “And building a future family here, with kids sliding down banisters, and a dog or two, and singing around the fireplace—as my wife?”
“Those are commitments I feel completely ready to make,” she promised with a kiss of sugar and spice.
∞∞∞
EPILOGUE
BING WHITMORE
Bing Whitmore stomped toward the stables, the gravel crunching beneath his work boots. “It’s not about the loss of income, Freya.”
Yes, he should have developed thicker skin for this business by now, but when Rose Red’s leg broke, it nearly broke Bing in the same complex fracture.
Yes, horse breeding and racing were risky ventures, and getting too attached to individual horses increased the risk exponentially, but the problem was, Rose Red’s fracture followed hot on the heels of losing million-dollar Torrey Stakes winner Snow White just that summer.
“You love the horses.” Freya double-stepped to catch up with him. “More than anything or anyone. I get that, Bing.” His cousin brushed the collecting snowflakes off her shoulders. “We all do. It’s in our Whitmore blood.”
“Then you get why I need to quit.” Quit horses. Quit all of it.
“Quit! Owners don’t quit.”
“They do if they sell their shares of the business to the other partners.”
“But, Bing! You’re the one who runs the day-to-day aspects of Whitmore Stables. The rest of us are owners because of Grandpa, but we’re not exactly involved, not like you are.”
“Well, the you can hire someone to replace me. A professional.” Someone who wouldn’t go Three-Mile Island every time he picked up a curry comb to clean off a dusty flank or smelled leather. “Lots of guys out there would kill for a chance to manage a stable full of thoroughbreds.”
“Bing.” Freya slid her glasses off her head and balanced them on the end of her nose. “What’s really going on here?”
Uh-oh. It never worked in his favor when Freya started using her PhD in psychology on him. “I don’t need any head-shrinking, not even with the family discount.”
“Is this about the surgery? Rose Red is getting better.”
But she’d never race again, although at least she was alive. If that rookie veterinarian hadn’t shown up, Bing would have lost Rose Red, too.
And then what? Bing would have wandered off into the snow-covered hills with just the clothes on his back and become a statistic.
“Fine. No head-shrinking. And I can see you’re not going to answer any of my probing, empathetic questions—so I’ll just give you some unsolicited advice.”
Which he would reject, obviously.
“Don’t quit. Or sell. Or whatever. Not today.”
Maybe tonight, then. “It’s best for Whitmore Stables, Frey.”
“What about a vacation?”
“People in my line don’t take vacations.” Animal care wasn’t the kind of thing that could just be put on hold. The horses needed food, exercise, and close supervision. “In my eight years at Whitmore, I haven’t missed a day.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Freya punched his upper arm. “You need a break. Maybe some easygoing socialization with humans instead of animals. You’ve been through a lot this summer and fall. It’s going to be rough on anyone.”
No kidding. He crossed his arms over his chest. And he wasn’t getting into dating, if that was what Freya was hinting with her easygoing socialization verbiage.
They stood at the door of the stables, the wind howling and the snow collecting.
“Fine. Say you did quit, walk away from this—that would be a permanent vacation. You might not like it. Did you think of that? How about just giving it a trial run first? Just like you’d do with the horses, practice runs before a race.”
Bing shut his eyes. Freya would gloat if he agreed she was making sense.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t even
know how to take a vacation.”
“Look, I’ll talk to Dr. Harrison, see if he has someone he can recommend to man the stables for a few days”—she hiccuped when she must have seen his face—“make that weeks. Then, I’ll look around online for a good vacation spot and book you something completely quiet. A hotel with nobody else even staying in it. Maybe in the mountains somewhere like Steamboat Junction or Wilder River. You used to ski when we were kids. Remember?”
This wouldn’t work. Going away wouldn’t make him want to come back. However, being in the mountains might give him some peace. “I totally beat you down that black diamond run.”
“Ha! That was the beginners’ hill and you know it.”
“But the story is better my way.”
“So you’ll do it? I’m a great sleuth when it comes to finding off-the-beaten-path vacation spots. Not that I ever go to them, but this will be my big chance.”
“You’re going, too?” A little company might not hurt, instead of going everywhere alone in a strange place. “Uh, okay.”
Freya pulled off her glasses. “You’ll do it? I can make the plans?”
“Like you said, a trial run.” But his gut said he was through with horses forever.
***
To read the rest of Bing’s journey to love and healing at Christmastime, check out The Sleigh Bells Chalet, Book 2 in the Christmas House Romance Series. To read Mattie and Jesse’s story, check out Holiday Hunting Lodge, Book 3 in the Christmas House Romance Series.
The Christmas House Romance Series
The Christmas Cookie House
The Sleigh Bells Chalet
The Holiday Hunting Lodge
Stay in touch and find out about new clean romance releases. Sign up for Jennifer Griffith’s fun, lighthearted newsletter here by downloading a free, romantic novel.
All of Jennifer’s books can be found here.
BONUS RECIPE from ANDREA GRIFFITH
My wonderful mother-in-law
Truly the Most Delicious Soft Gingersnaps In the World
1 ½ cups butter
2 eggs
2 tsp ground cloves
1 ½ tsp salt
2 cups sugar
4 cups flour
2 tsp ginger
2/3 cup molasses
2 tsp cinnamon
4 tsp soda
Cream sugar and butter. Add eggs and molasses. Mix. Sift dry ingredients and add. Mix. Roll into 1 ½” balls and roll in granulated sugar. Bake 325° 10-12 minutes. Makes 5-6 dozen.
For Andrea
The Christmas Cookie House
© 2019 by Jennifer Griffith
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
Second Edition
ASIN: B07ZQQ885Z
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are creations of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locations is purely coincidental.
Cover art by Bluewater Books, 2018. Photo credit: Chris Wood, Robert Wood Photography
The Christmas Cookie House: A Sweet Holiday Romance (Christmas House Romances) Page 13