Christmas at Barncastle Inn: Four-in-One Collection
Page 1
INTRODUCTION
The Barncastle family transforms its sprawling Victorian bed-and-breakfast into a fantasy world. Guests can rent the entire inn at Christmas for a vacation set in whatever historical period they choose. Parents Ted and Diane are skeptical that anyone will pay the exorbitant price their daughter Jayne recommends—but they’re wrong. Plenty of people long for Christmas in another time.
Love Comes to the Castle by Susan Page Davis
Jayne Barncastle has big ideas for her family’s bed-and-breakfast, but is the idea so big it will break them? With the rich Dillard family paying for a deluxe medieval Christmas, Jayne must come through for her folks. But how will the Dillards feel about her attraction to their widowed son-in-law, Luke?
Christmas Duets by Lynette Sowell
Sean McSweeney is the last person Marcella Goudreau wants to see during her family’s Christmas vacation at Barncastle Inn, because she holds him partly responsible for her grandparents’ split. Sean finds that being part of a family again brings up feelings of abandonment he’d long thought buried. While they re-create a World War II–era Christmas, complete with music from White Christmas, will Sean and Marcella learn to sing a duet of the heart?
Where Your Heart Is by Janelle Mowery
Stephanie Minter never expected to see Matthew Raynor again, after the way she broke his heart. But when she finds him working at the Barncastle bed-and-breakfast, Stephanie believes God has given her a second chance. As she helps Matthew re-create the pirates’ life for her wards, can she prove she has changed, or will he always think of her as the thief who stole his happiness?
First Christmas by Darlene Franklin
Waverly Coe, a young unmarried mother, works as a veterinarian’s assistant to Alec Ross. In addition to his practice, he serves as animal specialist for the Barncastle Inn. As they involve guests in celebrating the First Christmas, can they see past their circumstances to celebrate their first Christmas together?
©2011 Love Comes to the Castle by Susan Page Davis
©2011 Christmas Duets by Lynette Sowell
©2011 Where Your Heart Is by Janelle Mowery
©2011 First Christmas by Darlene Franklin
Print ISBN 978-1-61626-438-3
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-878-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-879-4
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Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible, © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Kirk DouPonce, DogEared Design
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Love Comes to the Castle by Susan Page Davis
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Christmas Duets by Lynette Sowell
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Where Your Heart Is by Janelle Mowery
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
First Christmas by Darlene Franklin
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
LOVE COMES TO THE CASTLE
Susan Page Davis
Dedication
To all those who wish they could travel through time, and to my sisters, with whom I’ve traveled more than fifty years. Next Sister Week at the Barncastle!
Love is patient, love is kind.
1 CORINTHIANS 13:4 NIV
Chapter 1
The maples in the front yard showed a few red leaves as Jayne Barncastle hopped out of her silver compact. The dear old house welcomed her as always when she ventured home from Boston—not often enough these days. She gazed up at the stone walls and the east turret, where her room lay, and smiled.
Her parents had given her the tower room on the third story when they moved in fifteen years ago, and she’d reigned supreme in it ever since, with her private view of the lake and the meadow. How many dreams she’d hatched up there!
She glanced at the sign beside the driveway. BARNCASTLE INN. The name suited the stone and wooden house, a miniature Gothic castle with a hint of rambling barn. The only way the Barncastles could afford the taxes on the oddity was to share it with travelers. Her folks had run the sprawling house as a bed-and-breakfast since Jayne was nine. They’d gotten by on the erratic income—the inn was fully booked in summer and welcomed “leaf peepers” in October and occasional hardy guests at other seasons. But Jayne was sure they could do better with a little clever marketing.
The front door burst open and her mother scurried across the porch and down the steps, her arms wide and her too-early silver curls bobbing.
“Jayne! It’s so good to have you home.”
“Hello, Mom.” They stood for a moment, engulfed in their embrace and memories. Mom smelled faintly of ginger and furniture polish, and Jayne wondered why she’d ever yearned for wider horizons.
“How did your interviews go?” Mom asked.
“Very well, thanks.” Jayne grinned as her father ambled around the corner of the house with a hammer in his hand.
Jayne hugged him and patted his back. “You look good, Dad. How’s business?”
“Not bad. We’ve got a couple coming in Friday afternoon for the weekend, and a party of four staying four days next week.”
Jayne nodded, thinking plenty but saying nothing. Those numbers barely gave them the income they needed to maintain the house. Her parents wanted to retire next year, but on what? Their income from the busy season had to stretch over the bleak winter months.
Her father grabbed the handle on her wheeled suitcase, and Jayne pulled out her laptop case and closed the trunk. She walked beside her mother inside and to the kitchen, where the enticing aroma of baking biscuits made Jayne’s mouth water.
“How long can you stay?” her mother asked.
“I should probably leave Sunday.” Jayne sat on one of the stools beside the butcher-block worktable.
“So soon?”
�
��Yeah, I’ll need to start work.”
Her father came in from the hall. “I left your suitcase by the stairs, Jaynie. I’ll take it up after we eat. “
“That’s fine, Dad. And I can lug it myself.”
“Up two flights?”
She laughed. “I was your star bellhop before I went away to school, remember?”
The family usually ate in the kitchen, amid the polished wood cabinets, granite countertops, and gleaming cookware. This room was the heart of Barncastle Inn, not the dining room, where the guests ate.
They sat down together. Her father closed his eyes, and Jayne automatically bowed her head.
“Lord, we thank You for this food, and for bringing our daughter home safe. May we please You in all we say and do. Amen.”
“Amen,” Jayne murmured as she opened her eyes.
Mom dipped a generous portion of beef stew—one of her specialties—from the slow cooker and handed Jayne the ironstone bowl.
“Thank you. This smells delicious.”
“So, Jaynie.”
“Yes?” She looked expectantly at her father.
“What’s the news?”
She smiled. “I have an offer.”
“Oh,” Mom said. “That’s wonderful.”
“You don’t look very pleased.”
Her mother glanced toward Dad. “Of course we’re happy for you, but … to be honest, we had other dreams.”
“Like what?”
“We missed you this summer.” Her mom picked up another bowl, dipped it full of stew, and handed it to Dad.
“We hoped you’d help us run the inn this year,” her father said.
“You mean … stay here in Vermont and help you? Now?”
He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”
“Well, I did have an idea of how you might increase your business. If you’re interested, I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Might be good,” Dad said. “But you’ve got a job in the city, eh? I’m sure you’re anxious to get started.”
“Well, yes.” Jayne looked uncertainly from him to her mother. Neither seemed overjoyed at her success. She’d opted for summer school to finish up her master’s degree, rather than coming home to help at the inn as usual. Now she was ready to move into an independent life. They’d encouraged her every step of the way, so why the long faces?
“Actually, I told them I’d give them my answer Monday. I wanted a chance to think it over and to talk to you about the offer.”
Her parents perked up at that.
“Does something about it make you hesitate?” Mom asked.
“Well, it’s a very responsible position. I’d be in charge of the marketing department at a young company. It would be a great challenge, but kind of scary.” Jayne sipped her water. “In some ways, I’d almost rather work for a more established firm—one that had some experienced people working with me and showing me the ropes. I get the feeling I’d be pretty much on my own at Bowker-Hatley.”
“So all the blame would fall on you if something went wrong,” her father said.
“Well, yes.”
He nodded. “What about your other interviews?”
“There’s an opening with less pay at the Ringfield Toycompany. The cost of living is so high in the city, I’d barely clear my living expenses the first year. But I’d be up for a substantial raise after that. I’m on their short list, and they say they’ll call me, but this other offer …”
Her parents looked at each other in silence.
“Tell me about this idea you had.” Jayne didn’t say so, but she’d considered the thought herself more than once. But questions always arose. Did she really want to bury herself in small-town Vermont? Now that she had her MBA in marketing, would she get the same satisfaction from running a small inn, no matter how beautiful? And could the inn continue to support her and her parents? She knew how hard the work was. If she wanted to run Barncastle Inn, she’d have to hire help, especially if Mom and Dad retired.
Her parents watched her thoughtfully.
“We kind of thought you might like first dibs on the place,” her dad said.
“You mean … buy it from you?” Jayne laughed. “With what?”
“We’d set up terms. If you stayed, we’d work with you through next summer and then turn it over to you. We figured that by now you know enough about marketing to attract more customers. If you filled four rooms every night, you could make a nice living here. The thing is, we’re getting older, and we couldn’t keep up with that kind of traffic.”
“And we’d like to retire while we’re still young enough to enjoy some travel,” Mom added.
Jayne pressed her lips together. This was the moment. “About that marketing thing, Dad. I do think I could help you pull in more business. Would you be willing to hire help if you needed it?”
“Sure, if the revenue is there.”
She nodded. “I’ve done some preliminary research. Just a sec—I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the hall and opened her laptop case. Inside with her computer was a folder she’d prepared. She carried it to the kitchen and slid into her chair, pushing her soup plate aside.
“What’s this?” her father asked, squinting down at the cream-colored paper she placed in his hand. At the top was a small photo of the inn, with the words CHRISTMAS ANY TIME in large letters beneath it.
Her mother accepted one of the papers and began to read. “Go back in time for the Christmas of your dreams at Barncastle Inn.” She glanced at Jayne, puzzled, then read on. “Have Christmas in the Victorian era, the Roaring Twenties, or colonial days. Relive your favorite childhood holidays. Hosts Ted and Diane Barncastle will transform their charming country inn into the holiday time and place you long for.”
“What on earth is this all about?” Dad laid his paper on the table and stared at her.
“I don’t see how we could do something like this,” Mom said. “What exactly are you proposing?”
Jayne smiled at them. “Everyone has a picture in their mind of the ideal Christmas. Let’s say your customer was born in the 1930s. He’s old now, but he remembers those simpler days. He wants his grandchildren to have a Christmas like he did. We decorate the inn 1930s style. We make garlands for the tree by stringing popcorn and cranberries. We bring in greenery for the swags and birchlogs for the fireplace—nothing modern, everything simple and nostalgic. We set up activities from the period—a sledding party and an evening of caroling. The gifts would be typical of the era—a pair of skates, a classic book, a model of Lucky Lindy’s plane.”
“And people will pay for this?” Her father’s face projected skepticism, but Jayne waved away his doubt.
“Not only will they pay—they’ll pay extra.”
“You’re kidding,” her mother said. “People today want modern comfort and convenience. We lost a lot of bookings last year because we couldn’t give Internet service in every room.”
“That’s right,” Dad said. “So now we pay for expensive cable service so the guests can get their e-mail while they’re here. Who’s going to want to go back to the days of kerosene lanterns and outhouses?”
Jayne laughed. “I don’t think you need to take out the plumbing! And they can still bring their computers. But say someone wants to be at Charlemagne’s coronation on Christmas Day in 800 AD. They could rent the whole place for a week. We’d play up the castle aspects of the architecture, and Mom, you could serve wassail and leg of lamb and other dishes from the Middle Ages. The staff would wear medieval costumes. We’d hire a minstrel to come in and sing during dinner, and we could even organize a pageant, reenacting the coronation.”
Her mother nodded slowly, but her eyes looked a little glazed.
“Jaynie, you keep saying ‘we,’” her dad pointed out. “I’m not sure your mom and I would be up to doing all this. Imean, we’ve hit sixty. We’re looking at retiring after the summer season next year, and there’s only one Christmas season between now and then. Who exactly would do
all of this decorating and event planning?”
Jayne pulled in a deep breath. “Well …” Her stomach fluttered. “I … uh … I could do the ads for you. Gratis.”
Dad shook his head. “I just don’t think we could do it, kiddo.”
“Me either,” Mom said. “Not without someone young and energetic heading up all this activity. I’m sorry, sweetie. It sounds like great fun, but it also sounds like a lot of work.”
Dad gave her a rueful smile. “Too much work for our last year in business. Now if I were twenty-four, like you …”
“So what will you do with the inn if I don’t want to have a part in it?” Jayne asked in a small voice. She couldn’t imagine not having the castle to come home to.
“Sell it, I guess.” Her father reached for his coffee cup. “Hate to do it, but we’ve spent enough time maintaining this place. Somebody else needs to take over.”
“Yes,” Mom said. “While we spend next winter somewhere warm.”
“Well …” The dismay that ambushed Jayne shocked her. “If you did decide to sell it, this plan should increase the value of the business for you.” Jayne pondered the problem while she cut a warm, flaky biscuit in half and smeared it with butter. Her throat felt tight as she swallowed.
Mom launched into an update of the neighbors and church family. Jayne and her father said little until Mom asked if they wanted seconds.
“There’s pie.” Dad had a faint glitter in his eyes.
Mom always made pie for her first night home. Jayne stood and gathered her silverware. “Let me help you clear the dishes, Mom.”
As she carried their plates to the counter, her mother loaded the dishwasher. Jayne refilled her father’s coffee cup, and Mom took a pie from the warm oven.
“You can get the vanilla ice cream, Jaynie.”
“All right.”
What would it be like to stay here this fall and help her folks run the inn? She’d revamp all their ads for the foliage season tourists and put the place in the holiday mood by the first of November. It would be so much fun.
She was standing in front of the open freezer surveying the stash of food when her father said, “I guess we were hoping you’d look at the inn with fresh eyes and think about keeping the business.”