A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

by Amy Vastine

  Count down to Thanksgiving with one of our 13 poignant Harlequin Heartwarming short stories. This is a time to get together with family and friends, and reconnect over pumpkin pie and hot apple cider…or read about the stories where heroes and heroines struggle to get their dream holiday!

  Snow Day Baby by Amy Vastine

  Wedding at Turkey Run by Liz Flaherty

  Her Thanksgiving Soldier by Leigh Riker

  Mr. Right All Along by Jennifer Snow

  Falling for the Cowboy by Sophia Sasson

  The Marriage Gift by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Heart of a Hero by Pamela Tracy

  Thankful for You by Karen Rock

  Autumn at Jasper Lake by Carol Ross

  The Firefighter’s Promise by Kate James

  Wedding of His Dreams by Cari Lynn Webb

  The Sweetheart Tree by Rula Sinara

  Married by Thanksgiving by Melinda Curtis

  A Heartwarming Thanksgiving

  Harlequin Heartwarming Authors

  Table of Contents

  Snow Day Baby by Amy Vastine

  • Recipe: French Apple Cake

  Wedding at Turkey Run by Liz Flaherty

  • Recipe: Italian Sausage and Cabbage

  Her Thanksgiving Soldier by Leigh Riker

  • Recipe: Thanksgiving Leftovers Casserole

  Mr. Right All Along by Jennifer Snow

  • Recipe: Pumpkin and Pear Soup

  Falling for the Cowboy by Sophia Sasson

  • Recipe: Bourbon Pecan Pie

  The Marriage Gift by Tara Taylor Quinn

  • Recipe: Thanksgiving Turkey Dressing

  Heart of a Hero by Pamela Tracy

  • Recipe: Sloppy Joes

  Thankful for You by Karen Rock

  • Recipe: Dinner Rolls

  Autumn at Jasper Lake by Carol Ross

  • Recipe: Pecan Tarts

  The Firefighter’s Promise by Kate James

  • Recipe: Crab & Cream Cheese Appetizer

  Wedding of His Dreams by Cari Lynn Webb

  • Recipe: Creamed Corn

  The Sweetheart Tree by Rula Sinara

  • Recipe: Gluten-Free Butternut Squash Cheesecake

  Married by Thanksgiving by Melinda Curtis

  • Recipe: Apple-Pineapple-Blueberry Minis

  Snow Day Baby

  By Amy Vastine

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Recipe: French Apple Cake

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Let’s remember, listening to your mom is important. One or two pieces of candy a day is plenty.” Dr. Scott Spencer gave seven-year-old Danny Klein’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as they left the ER exam room.

  The boy had stumbled across what was left of his Halloween candy and couldn’t resist eating everything in the bag until he made himself sick. Many of the capillaries in his face had broken, leaving him looking like a character out of a Ben-Day dot comic.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Klein said with a smug expression. She could be heard reminding her son that it was doctor’s orders that he listen to her from now on as they left St. Joseph’s Hospital.

  Scott stopped at the nurse’s station and made sure he had filled out all the information in Danny’s electronic chart properly. Thorough was one of his strengths, always noted in his reviews, and he wanted it to stay that way.

  “I thought you were leaving on-time today,” Nurse Emma Everhart said from behind the desk. “Don’t you have a flight to catch tomorrow morning?”

  Emma had the loveliest hazel eyes. Scott still found himself getting lost in them, even though their first date had also been their last. Emma only had eyes for a certain paramedic.

  “Just need to finish this and I’m out of here.”

  Dr. Gavin sidled up next to him at the counter. Her fiery red curls always reminded him of an untamed lion’s mane, which was fitting since Tessa Gavin was anything but tame. “Don’t forget to come back…or else.”

  Panic shot through him. What did she know? Tessa was his supervisor and mentor. He had great respect for her and wasn’t ready to explain that he was headed back home to Minnesota for more than Thanksgiving dinner.

  Scott rubbed his sweaty palms on his lab coat. “I’m scheduled to work a double on Saturday, and I’ll be here, Dr. Gavin. You don’t have to worry about it. My flight gets in Friday evening. I’ll get a good night’s sleep and be ready to do my part. I know holiday weekends are busy in the ER. I won’t let you down.”

  Tessa and Emma exchanged a look before Tessa gave Scott a reassuring pat on the back. “I was teasing you, Spencer. Chill out. Enjoy Thanksgiving with your family.”

  “Are you okay?” Emma asked once Dr. Gavin disappeared into an exam room.

  Scott rubbed his forehead. “I’m fine. She always makes me nervous.” And he was worried about how she would take the news that Scott was likely leaving Chicago for good. All he had to do was get to Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon for the interview. The spot was his to lose, according to his father, and Bradley Spencer was never wrong. “Are you staying in town for Thanksgiving?”

  “Charlie and I are splitting the day between my parents and his. I’m sure I won’t need to eat again for a week.” Emma held a hand to her stomach.

  “Well, don’t overindulge too much. I don’t want you to end up like poor Danny Klein,” Scott said with a grin that Emma quickly returned.

  “Sound advice, Dr. Spencer. What would we ever do without you around here?”

  Scott’s smile slipped. Unfortunately, they might have to figure it out.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Did you pack your prenatal vitamins?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need to print our tickets?”

  Sheridan Colfax bit her tongue and took a deep breath to stop herself from lashing out at her well-intentioned but sanity-stealing mother.

  “I don’t understand how electronic tickets work.” Rita Colfax fluttered around Sheridan’s one-bedroom condo like a hyperactive child.

  Sheridan’s older sister tried to ease their mother’s worries. “We can print you a boarding pass at the airport, Ma.” Daisy tied her golden-blonde hair into a high ponytail before washing the breakfast dishes.

  Sheridan couldn’t convince them she was capable of more than sitting on the couch. For some reason, they believed a woman who was thirty-three weeks pregnant couldn’t do anything other than be pregnant.

  “I still think we should leave for the airport earlier. The snow’s really coming down out there.” Her mother stood with her hands on her hips in front of the picture window that faced the street. In her belted black dress, all she needed was a pillbox hat to look like Jackie Kennedy Onassis from the 1960s.

  “We’ll be fine.” Sheridan pushed herself up and off the couch.

  Her mother flew to her side. “What do you need? I can get it for you. Sit.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom. Can you do that for me, or can I be trusted to do it by myself?” Sheridan snapped. Her mother and sister had been here less than twenty-four hours and she was already wishing they had met her in Florida instead of coming to Chicago first.

  “Be nice, Sher. She’s trying to be helpful,” Daisy reminded her.

  “It’s okay,” their mom said, backing off and lifting her hands in surrender. “I remember what it was like to be this far along. You’re uncomfortable and tired of being pregnant. It makes even the sweetest person a little sour.”

  Pregnancy wasn�
��t making Sheridan crabby—being smothered was. It was only going to get worse when they arrived in Florida where her eldest sister would be waiting for them with her perfect husband, perfect kids, perfect house, perfect life. Holly probably couldn’t wait to share all her advice and expertise in person instead of via text and email like she’d been doing since they all learned Sheridan was expecting.

  She closed the bathroom door and took a moment to appreciate the solitude. The baby took that as his cue to kick her hard in the ribs, a clear reminder that she wasn’t actually alone.

  “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t forget you were in there. Kind of hard since you sit on my bladder and use me as your punching bag,” she said, giving her enormous belly a rub.

  Glancing in the mirror, she noticed her braid was falling out. She pulled out the hair tie and combed her fingers through her mahogany locks. One perk of pregnancy was amazing hair.

  “Taxi’s here! Hurry, Sheridan!” her mother yelled through the door.

  No rest for the weary. Sheridan tried to rub the dark circles under her green eyes away before giving up with a heavy sigh. It didn’t matter how she looked. No one could get past her stomach to even focus on her face. Sheridan had stopped being anything but a mother-to-be as soon as that baby bump appeared.

  Her mom rapped on the door. “Are you okay in there?”

  Sheridan rolled her shoulders, trying to get the stubborn kinks out. “Okay” was a relative term. She often wondered if she’d ever truly be okay again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “They say eating less food more often is the best thing to do in the third trimester.” Daisy held a small bag of pretzels in front of Sheridan. “Women who eat at least five times a day are more likely to make it to their due date.”

  Traffic was backed up on the expressway thanks to the snow. The massive headache Sheridan felt coming on made her less receptive to Daisy’s second offer of a “healthy” snack in ten minutes.

  Sheridan snatched the pretzels from her sister and stuffed them in her purse as a compromise. “I’ve been successfully feeding myself for decades. If I get hungry, I promise to let you know.”

  As much as Sheridan loved her family and their support, surviving this trip and their constant hovering would require some sort of miracle.

  When they finally arrived, O’Hare was a flurry of activity. Sheridan people-watched while she waited curbside for her luggage. Dozens of travelers unloaded in front of Terminal 3.

  A pair of frazzled-looking parents caught her attention as they herded their five children while also keeping track of their multiple suitcases. A couple in shorts and light jackets walked hand-in-hand, pulling matching black carry-ons behind them, and Sheridan imagined they were headed somewhere tropical for their honeymoon. She ignored the sharp twinge of jealousy.

  Her phone chirped in her purse. “Shoot,” she muttered when she saw the text from the airline.

  Her mother rushed to her side and placed a hand on Sheridan’s protruding belly. “What’s the matter?”

  “Looks like we’re going to be here awhile,” Sheridan replied, stepping back to reestablish her personal space. “Flight’s delayed until this afternoon.”

  They went inside to check-in, only to be greeted by mile-long lines of what appeared to be the entire population of Chicago. The delay suddenly felt more like a blessing than a curse.

  After they checked their mother’s ridiculously over-packed suitcase, Rita headed straight for the TSA Pre-Check line. “Let’s ask if we can go in there since you’re pregnant,” she said.

  When Sheridan’s parents were married, her father’s indulgences created this expectation in her mother that the privileges his wealth afforded them was the norm. The first couple years after the divorce had been painfully eye-opening for Rita. Her ignorance to the ways of the world drove Sheridan’s need for independence.

  Security couldn’t care less that Sheridan was pregnant, so she and Daisy kept walking while her mom questioned the TSA agent. The way Sheridan saw it, people with children no longer confined to their mother’s womb seemed much more worthy of special treatment. She caught herself staring at that family with five kids in line ahead of her.

  The teenage boy with headphones that seemed glued to his ears was completely detached from the rest of the family. Someone could have yelled, “Bomb!” and he’d likely still be standing there, head bobbing to his music. His two slightly younger sisters kept themselves occupied by taking selfies while their curly-haired little brother made faces at the squirming toddler in his mother’s arms.

  Sheridan rested a hand on her stomach. Somehow that mother had managed to keep five children alive and well. Didn’t that mean Sheridan had a decent shot at taking care of one?

  The woman’s husband offered to hold the toddler, who clearly wanted to have both feet on the floor so he could run. She mouthed a silent thank you as she handed over the obstinate child. The dad lifted the boy above his head and got him to giggle. Husband and wife made a good team.

  Sheridan didn’t have a team. Well, not one with the same kind of partner those parents had in each other.

  “Why didn’t you come with me? Maybe if they had seen how huge Sheridan is, they would have let us through,” her mother complained when she joined her daughters in line.

  “Women don’t get pre-check status for being pregnant,” Daisy informed her. “And if Sheridan did, you and I wouldn’t get it just because we’re traveling with her. That’s not how it works.”

  “Mrs. Colfax?” Sheridan didn’t recognize the voice and glanced back over her shoulder.

  “Oh, my goodness! Scottie Spencer, is that you?” Rita set down her carry-on and gave him a hug, but there was no way that man was Scott Spencer. Not the Scott Spencer Sheridan knew, at least.

  The one she remembered from high school had been more brain than brawn. He’d been gangly, all legs and arms, wore glasses, and thought science was more interesting than…well, anything. He used to mow their lawn in running shorts and a tank top.

  “You remember my girls, Daisy and Sheridan.”

  Scott shook hands with Daisy before making eye contact with Sheridan. Were his eyes always that shade of brown? They were two pools of melted chocolate; Sheridan wanted to dive right in. It only took a second, though, for his gaze to lower to her stomach and his expression to change from wow to whoa.

  Sheridan felt heat creep up her neck. Back in high school, he used to stare at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. His attention fed her teenage ego nicely, but when he’d finally found the nerve to ask her out, she had begged him to understand she couldn’t commit social suicide by saying yes.

  Oh, how the tables had turned.

  He cleared his throat and looked back up. “Congratulations. I hadn’t heard you were expecting.”

  “I’m sure I mentioned it to your mom when I saw her last,” Rita interjected. “Maybe she forgot to tell you.”

  Sheridan knew her mother was lying by the way she tugged at the pearls around her neck. This finally confirmed how humiliating it must be for her to have a daughter pregnant out of wedlock.

  “That was probably it,” Scott said graciously. “What are you all doing in Chicago?”

  “We’re spending Thanksgiving with Holly and her family in Orlando,” Daisy answered. “We came to Chicago first so Sheridan wouldn’t have to fly alone in her condition.”

  “You say it like I have a disease.”

  “No, I think it’s more like a parasite or invasion of the body snatchers.” Daisy bent over and spoke to Sheridan’s stomach. “Where’s my sweet sister? What have you done with her?”

  Scott’s crooked grin made Sheridan’s heart beat a little faster. “It’s an epidemic, really. I see at least one pregnant woman a day in the ER. The good news is there’s a cure. It’s called labor, and it’s highly effective.”

  Sheridan would have laughed if the reality of labor wasn’t looming. “I didn’t know you were in Chicago,” she said, changing
the subject.

  “I’ve been here a little over a year. I’m an emergency medicine resident at St. Joe’s downtown. How long have you been in the city?”

  “Since I graduated from U of M. I work for E-Pulse—we have an office in Bucktown.”

  Scott moved closer. “E-Pulse? As in the E-Pulse that does the viral videos and crazy ‘Ten Things You Didn’t Know About Swedish People’-type lists?”

  It was true E-Pulse did once run a story on things people didn’t know about Swedes. Sheridan had helped write it. “Tell me you didn’t learn something new when you read it.”

  “I learned about Saturday candy. I’m not sure I could live somewhere people frowned upon eating some chocolate on a Wednesday.”

  Had he always been this charming? Sheridan remembered Scott being awkward and a little mousy. This Scott had an ease about him that complimented his striking outward appearance. Chatting with him made the time in line fly by.

  When they finally reached the front of the security line, the TSA agent took one look at Sheridan’s stomach and pointed her toward the metal detector instead of the body scanner. There was a loud beep when she stepped through.

  “Anything in your pockets, ma’am?” an agent with a narrow face and long nose asked.

  She took off her silver bracelet and went through again. Another beep. The agent had her step to the side so he could use his magic wand to find the weapon she wasn’t carrying.

  People began to stare and whisper. Her mother and sister finished their scans and collected the bags. As the wand passed over her chest, it beeped.

  “Underwire?” the agent asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you wearing an underwire bra, ma’am?” the agent asked.

  It had been a while since Sheridan had been embarrassed because there was no such thing as modesty during pregnancy. Between the doctor exams and the misconception that pregnant women loved strangers touching their stomachs, there was always some reason to forget about her dignity.

  The agent pulled on some pale blue rubber gloves and essentially felt Sheridan up in front of everyone in the security area, including Scott, who stood wide-eyed behind her mother. She slowly died a thousand deaths.