Every time Daisy brought up her mom, she’d cut herself off, as if she was afraid to upset James by talking about her. James hadn’t figured out yet how to tell her it was okay to talk about Marisa, and the longer it went on, the harder it was. So, he just moved on, like he always did.
“It’s in the car, in my visor. Remind me when we go out to meet the bus and I’ll put it in your bag.”
Satisfied, Daisy went back to watching the snow fall outside as she waited for her eggs. James quickly finished their breakfast and then checked her bookbag to make sure all of her homework was done. By the time they finished eating, he could hear the bus rumbling outside even before it started honking its horn. He quickly put on Daisy’s coat, scarf, hat, and mittens, helped her maneuver her backpack on over top of her many layers of clothes, and then they ran outside into the snow together. James was standing on top of the fresh powder in his bare feet before he even realized he’d forgotten to put on his own boots.
He stood there, jumping from foot-to-foot in the freezing cold, and watched diligently until Daisy was safely on the bus and waving at him from her window seat. He waved back and turned to go inside when he looked at his car and slapped his palm against his forehead.
“Aw, crap, the permission slip.”
As fast as he was able, he flung open the SUV’s door, grabbed the paper from his visor, and then started chasing after the bus down the slippery road, waving his arms and yelling until the driver finally saw him and stopped. When he caught up and the bus driver, Angie, opened the doors for him, she looked down at his bright red bare feet and laughed.
“Having one of those mornings, James?”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “Always, Angie. Mind if I come on and give this to Daisy?” She gestured for him to come aboard, which he did gratefully, happy to be out of the snow, even if it meant walking on the dirty bus floor. When Daisy saw him, she slapped her head, perfectly imitating his own action from a moment ago.
“The permission slip! I’m sorry, daddy.”
“My fault too, muffin. Have a good day,” he answered. He gave her the permission slip and a quick kiss on the top of the head before thanking Angie and clambering down the school bus steps and into the snow once more.
Once the bus was on its way again, and he’d waved a sufficient goodbye, James ran back into the house faster than he had ever run in his life and sat down in front of the radiator to allow his frozen red feet heat back up to some semblance of normal. As he sat there, trying to stop shivering, he glanced back up at the clock again and groaned.
He was late. He was supposed to meet a delivery truck at the restaurant at nine and it was already 8:50. He would never make it there in time.
“This day just keeps getting better and better,” he muttered as he grabbed a stray pair of socks off the chair. A minute later, he was in the car and driving toward town, but he would still be late. He and Daisy lived about twenty minutes outside of downtown Wintervale in a house that had been in his late wife’s family for several generations. It was a beautiful old farmhouse on five acres of land; in the spring and summer months, they grew fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs for James’ restaurant, the Middle Road Inn. James had never intended to own a restaurant, or a farm, but then he met Marisa, and everything changed.
Marisa Brookes had grown up in Wintervale, just like James, but they had never known each other well. Her family were hippies, farmers, and they spent a lot of time on their land instead of in town. The Brookes family owned farmland all over Vermont, but Marisa and her parents adored Wintervale and had become popular because of their amazing, homegrown produce. After James had his heart broken by his high school sweetheart, James had been unsure of what to do with himself, and he’d ended up working for Marisa’s family on their farm for a summer. By the time September rolled around, he was in love. Six months later, he and Marisa were married, nine months later, they had Daisy, and six years later…
Marisa was gone.
Marisa’s parents had gifted the house and land to James and their granddaughter, but unable to handle the memories, they left Wintervale not long after Marisa died. James couldn’t sustain himself and his daughter on just the farm, so he used their savings to buy the Middle Road Inn, a small restaurant and bar right in the middle of downtown. They stocked it with only fresh local produce and cooked the kind of simple, homey food that the people of Wintervale seemed to love. In their grief, The Inn had really helped both James and Daisy find something else to focus on. James was able to rebuild and rebrand the restaurant and Daisy helped him decorate and pick her favorite meals of his for the menu. Sometimes on weekends, she would fill water glasses and deliver bread, which was a real hit with customers.
Most mornings, it was just him at the restaurant, planning specials and getting things ready for the day, or unloading whatever he’d brought from the farm. But on delivery days, when trucks came with the supplies that James couldn’t grow or can himself, a member of the staff would come in early to help. When he arrived at the Inn that morning, he found one of his waitresses, Addison Murdoch, waiting at the front door. James parked hurriedly and jumped out of the car to let her in.
“I’m so sorry, I’m late. Did you hear the truck pull up? Aren’t you freezing?”
Addison shrugged and blew into her gloved-hands. Her long dark hair was mostly tucked up into her knit hat and her pale cheeks were bright red. “It’s fine. I don’t mind the cold. No truck yet. I think you lucked out and the snow slowed them down on the highway.”
James breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the door, he let Addison scoot in next to him, then quickly shut the door to prevent what little heat there was from getting out. As Addison started turning on the lights, James lit the fire in old stone fireplace in the corner of the room to get the warmth flowing through the Inn faster. If there was one thing you could count on at Christmas in Vermont, it was a brisk, snowy cold. He’d never liked it when he was young, but now, James spent so much time outside, he had to get used to it. Daisy loved the cold, especially when it snowed. She would live outside all year if he let her.
Addison walked back out to the dining room and let out a breath that fogged in the cold air. “Is it always this cold first thing in the morning? It might be warmer outside!”
“Sure is. That’s why I don’t let you guys come in until I’ve heated the place up. Just wait until we have to leave the door open for the deliveries. It’ll get even worse.”
Addison laughed a little overly-loud at something that wasn’t even a joke, but James was already too tired to really register it. The bubbly waitress had just started at the Inn, from what his manager said, she had just returned to Wintervale after graduating college, and while the customers really seemed to like her, James found her just a bit exhausting.
Added to that, she was always following him around, asking him questions and looking for help on easily solvable problems. He had gotten pretty good at avoiding her or passing her questions off to someone else, but she was like a ninja, stealthily appearing out of nowhere. It was a quality he would have admired if it didn’t interfere with his day so often.
James looked at his phone and saw that the distributor was now forty-five minutes late. At this rate, there was no telling what time they would show up, so he might actually have time to grab the things they needed at home from the grocery store and stash them in the walk-in until he could pick up Daisy. “Addison, I’m going to run out for a few minutes. Can you stay here and keep an eye out? If they show up, just call me on my cell and I’ll come right back.”
He didn’t give Addison time to answer before he ran out the door and started down the block for the Red Apple General Store. He didn’t get far, however, before he saw Meg Harrison trying to wheel herself out of Dr. Thornton’s office in the snow. She was having trouble navigating the wheelchair and the small front wheels were already wedged in the rapidly-piling slush. James sighed, regardless of their history, there was no way he was going to wat
ch the woman struggle. He crossed over, stopped in front of her and cleared his throat. Meg looked up, annoyed at first, but then a genuine smile crossed her face.
“James Everley, you sweet boy! What are you doing out in this horrible weather?”
James couldn’t help but laugh. “Meg, I think I should be asking you that question. What happened?” he asked, looking down at her casted leg.
“Chasing after Henry, as usual. How is Daisy doing? Tell that little angel to come by my shop sometime.”
“Alright, Meg,” James chuckled, “but first, why don’t we get you out of this snow? Is there a car waiting for you somewhere?”
“Oh, Gladys was supposed to pick me up, but her hatchback couldn’t get out of the driveway. I was going to take the bus.”
James’ eyes widened. He knew Meg Harrison’s house well, and the driveway that lead from road to her front door went straight up. Even if she could manage the bus, the spring thaw would have set in and she’d still be trying to get to her front door. “I don’t think so, Meg. I’m going to drive you home.”
“Don’t trouble yourself, James. I’ll manage!”
James just shook his head with a smile. Meg hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he’d eaten dinner at her kitchen table. For as long as he’d known her, she’d been as beautiful as a movie star, and she still was. Her curly blonde hair was a pale white now, but she was still tall and elegant, with a smile that melted your heart. When she’d walk by the restaurant on the way to her shop, she’d be dressed like a folk singer from the 60s and exuded the same joyful charm. Everyone in town loved her, and frankly, James missed her a lot. Just being around her was comforting in a way that reminded him of his own mother, who had long since moved to the warmth of the West Coast.
“Meg, there is absolutely no chance I am leaving you out here in this. You stay right here while I get my car and I swear, if you move one inch toward the bus I see coming this way, I will throw myself in front of it to stop you.”
Now it was Meg’s turn to laugh. She waved her hands at him with a smile. “Fine! But only because your life is at risk if I say no.”
The drive up to Meg’s house started out silent; James and Meg hadn’t said much more than “how are you” or “nice to see you” in over a decade. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to talk to each other… they just didn’t quite know what to say. But finally, as they crossed the bridge out of town and started for the north edge of Wintervale where Meg lived, James knew he had to at least make small talk.
“So… Henry?”
Meg laughed. “He’s still alive. He’ll be fifteen on Valentine’s Day, the little goofball. But you wouldn’t know it; he’s every bit the kitten he was when you first met him.”
“Sounds like it if you’re chasing him out onto roofs.”
They both chuckled lightly and then the car filled with silence again. As James pulled up the driveway that led up to the house, Meg sighed and shook her head. “James, how long are we not going to talk about…”
James gulped. “Belle.”
“Yes, Belle. I think it’s silly that…”
“No,” James shook his head as he pulled to a stop in front of the house. “Belle is here. On your porch.”
Meg looked up and let out a happy cry when she saw her granddaughter waiting for her on the front steps. But James’ stomach dropped down to his feet; if he didn’t need to help Meg out of the car, he wouldn’t have even opened his door. The last thing he wanted to do was see Annabelle Harrison…
The first girl he’d ever loved, and the first one who ever broke his heart.
3
Belle
Annabelle felt her entire body turn to ice, and it had nothing to do with the snow or the frigid temperatures in Vermont. She had been waiting at Meg’s house for half an hour, and she’d begun to get worried when her grandmother didn’t answer the door or her phone. She hadn’t known what to expect when the taxi dropped her off, but somehow, seeing Meg arrive in James Everley’ car was worse than anything she could have imagined. Annabelle was frozen in place, unable to convince her feet to propel her in the direction of either her grandmother or the high school sweetheart that she hadn’t seen in a decade.
Once upon a time, Belle thought she and James were going to get married. In high school, she was never much for being part of the popular circle, especially because she spent all of her free time in the Culinary lab. She didn’t play any sports or join the cheerleading squad; all she cared about was perfecting her recipes, so she could get into the culinary institute in New York as soon as she graduated. But then, one day when she was elbows-deep in a bowl of dough for a batch of orange-cranberry scones, she heard a voice from behind her.
“Annabelle Harrison, what is that amazing smell?”
Annabelle turned around and James Everley was standing in the doorway, his bookbag in one arm and a basketball in the other. James was the kind of guy that wasn’t just popular at Wintervale High; everyone in town knew him and loved him. He was the star of every sport, volunteered with local charities, and worked as a bagger at his mother’s grocery store. When James walked down the street, everyone stopped to say hello, and he always had a kind word for them in return. Annabelle did… not have that kind of reputation.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t nice to people, but when she had always kind of kept to herself, especially after her parents’ accident. She never felt like anyone shared her interests except her grandmother, and while she had friends, it was often easier to sneak away and bake than watch them pretend to care about how she’d improved her recipe for white chocolate brownies. High school wasn’t about being popular; it was about finishing so she could leave Wintervale.
So, it came as kind of a surprise to Annabelle that James Everley even knew her name, let alone stopped into the lab to see what she was doing. But that afternoon, he sat with her while she baked, asked her questions about what she was doing, and tasted everything she made. Annabelle laughed at his stupid jokes, listened while he talked about his worries over an upcoming game, and watched as he paced back and forth, as if he just couldn’t stay still. When the bell rang, and it was time to leave for the day, James asked her if she would go to the movies with him that weekend.
They barely spent a day apart for the next two years. But then, life had happened, and everything had changed.
“Belle! Baby! You made it,” Meg called out as James wheeled her up the snowy walkway, startling Belle from her fog. “I was worried with the snow.”
“Yeah, I made it. Hi, Gran” Annabelle answered as she slid down the steps and to her grandmother’s side. James didn’t make eye contact; he just cleared his throat and looked down at the snow.
“Meg, I can shovel this walk for you before I go,” his said with a voice slightly deeper than his real one. Belle barely concealed an eyeroll.
“Nonsense! I have a kid that does it for me. If you could just help Belle get me settled inside, then you can go back to your day. I’ve already taken up way too much of your time.”
James didn’t say anything; he just reached down and scooped Meg out of her wheelchair, then started up the stairs. Annabelle had forgotten how strong he was and for a moment, she was lost in thought again.
“Belle, can you bring the chair up?”
Annabelle folded up the chair and followed up after them. “You bet, gran.”
Once they were safely inside the warmth of Meg’s house, Annabelle forced herself to turn to James with a smile. “Thank you. For bringing her home. I assumed one of her friends from the hiking club would be doing it.”
“I was happy to. Couldn’t very well leave her in a snow drift on Elm Street, now could I? Anyway, Meg, if that’s all…”
Meg held up a hand, first to stifle a yawn, but then to stop James from leaving. “Jamie, can you just stay for one minute? I’m getting really tired, and once Belle gets me set up on the couch for a nap, I’d like her to go down to the store and get things settled, since I don’t k
now when I’ll get back.”
“Hold on.”
“Wait a second…”
Annabelle and James both started talking at the same time, a similar shade of panic in their eyes.
“Gran, I need to stay here in case the nurse comes. What if she shows up and you can’t get to the door?”
Meg scoffed. “Leave it unlocked. No one with nefarious intentions is going to climb that hill in this weather. Nothing worth the trouble in here.”
“But my allergies…” Annabelle weakly protested.
“Every six months, I restock your pills. Just in case. There is a fresh bottle in the medicine cabinet in your old bathroom.”
Annabelle looked awkwardly over at James. “So, it looks like there is absolutely no reason for me not to go.”
“Maybe you could just drive Meg’s car? Then you could get home on your own later?” James grasped.
Meg grinned. “Stick shift.”
Belle scowled at her grandmother and petulantly stomped off to the bathroom to get her allergy pills. She knew what Meg was up to and she didn’t like it one bit; her grandmother’s theory was that Annabelle had never found anyone else because she’d never gotten over her first love. But that was preposterous. She’d just been committed to her career, and that was about the only thing she had time for anymore. It had nothing to do with James, or his stubborn insistence to stay in their hometown forever.
Annabelle quickly swallowed two of the pills then hurried back down to the living room, where she found James covering Meg with a quilt. He’d already put a glass of water and the remote on the table next to her and propped her leg up on pillows.
“How long was I gone?” Belle asked.
“Let’s just say I’m pretty good at getting people settled in a hurry these days.” James didn’t have the opportunity to explain because Meg was snoring a second later. The injury and exertion had taken more out of her than she’d ever be willing to admit, and Annabelle smiled fondly at her grandmother’s sleeping form. She noticed James’ smile as he shook his head. “Time to go, I guess. Should you leave a note for the nurse?”
A Sugar Cookie Christmas: A Sweet Holiday Romance (Wintervale Promises Book 1) Page 2