Christmas With Carlie
Christmas With Carlie
Julianna Morris
All he wants for Christmas…Widower Luke Forrester’s fortune can’t buy happiness, but he’s counting on it to give his twin daughters the magical Christmas they deserve at Poppy Gold Inns. Activities director Carlie Benton, with her upbeat seasonal spirit, definitely isn’t impressed by money. She’s all about holiday cheer and he can’t resist.While Luke and Carlie try to restore the sparkle in his kids’ eyes, the heat between them melts the winter chill. And in the season of miracles, anything is possible—including a tempting second chance at love.
All he wants for Christmas...
Widower Luke Forrester’s fortune can’t buy happiness, but he’s counting on it to give his twin daughters the magical Christmas they deserve at Poppy Gold Inns. Activities director Carlie Benton, with her upbeat seasonal spirit, definitely isn’t impressed by money. She’s all about holiday cheer and he can’t resist.
While Luke and Carlie try to restore the sparkle in his kids’ eyes, the heat between them melts the winter chill. And in the season of miracles, anything is possible—including a tempting second chance at love.
Luke released a harsh breath as he watched Carlie walk away.
While he’d already noticed she was attractive, this time her appeal was striking a primal chord.
There was nothing indifferent about Carlie; she was passionate, vital and far more beautiful than he’d recognized at first. She reminded him of being in the desert after a spring thunderstorm, where everything had been dry and desolate, only to awaken with a roar after a dose of life-giving rain.
A wry smile curved Luke’s mouth—flash floods through an arroyo weren’t uncommon after a spring storm, either, and they could be lethal. Besides, he wasn’t a desert—he was a man who’d lost his wife.
The last thing he needed was to get fanciful about someone like Carlie.
Dear Reader (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7),
Christmas is a cherished time of the year and I love writing stories based around the holiday. In Christmas with Carlie I indulged in creating a setting filled with evergreen swags and twinkling lights, along with the scent of baking cookies and wassail.
For my first three stories placed around Poppy Gold Inns—my imaginary bed-and-breakfast complex—I wanted to include a military theme to honor the men and women who serve their country. And it occurred to me that a wealthy hero, who’d lost his wife in the army, would be interesting to explore. Luke Forrester has two small girls who are struggling to understand why Mommy never came home. In helping them, he discovers love again with a special woman who creates her own place in his heart.
Classic Movie Alert: There’s a wonderful 1988 TV movie called I’ll Be Home For Christmas starring a host of talented actors, including Hal Holbrook, Peter Gallagher and Eva Marie Saint. The title is shared with multiple holiday films, but this one is set in the last days of WWII. I haven’t had luck getting this on DVD yet, but I keep hoping!
I enjoy hearing from readers and can be contacted c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.
Julianna Morris
Christmas with Carlie
Julianna Morris
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Some of JULIANNA MORRIS’s most cherished childhood memories are of sitting by the fire and listening to Christmas music as she crafted gifts for her family. Since then Julianna has experienced Christmas in many different parts of the United States. Traditions vary, but she finds the spirit of the season wherever she travels. Perhaps one of her most unique memories is Christmas Eve in Albuquerque, New Mexico—spent, of all places, in the old cemetery, where people light luminarias to remember family and friends. She’ll never forget the warmth and love found in the flickering glow of thousands of candles.
To all the men and women who serve their country. May you find peace.
Contents
Cover (#ud6eece76-c4c5-53e2-82e5-6873372bdedc)
Back Cover Text (#u738de644-3e1c-52b9-a022-0274a1c8920a)
Introduction (#u2f28361d-711c-5f97-96f1-b25def55aee2)
Dear Reader (#u982993b9-9211-5cb7-98c3-9197f3f950b7)
Title Page (#uff81a3fc-29c2-5173-bdd4-8b79cc87d399)
About the Author (#uba2b0634-e3ff-5753-9e51-cf0016e34636)
Dedication (#u02ad4bd7-be71-549c-bb03-619a41152943)
PROLOGUE (#ud16658bd-9f7c-59c8-9d11-5eb1b325135b)
CHAPTER ONE (#u005fc357-cdfe-5df2-9f47-e9cf931727c3)
CHAPTER TWO (#ufae52b37-6caf-52d1-b8f4-1753a0da212a)
CHAPTER THREE (#u846c401e-d194-5996-9d3f-ce81016e582a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u93a328f8-3358-5755-9d31-3fe60eea045a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u99b185a8-a80c-59a5-bcb8-f16fe1a5b3f0)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
“MR. FORRESTER?”
Luke jerked, realizing he’d been staring into space, thinking about Erika again.
“Yes, Tilly?” he asked, shaking his head to clear it.
“I’ve made all the holiday arrangements you requested, but I wish you’d reconsider.”
Her face was tense and she only called him Mr. Forrester when she was annoyed. Tilly Robinson had been with him since soon after he’d started his business and often acted more like a mother hen than an executive assistant. Most recently she had been encouraging him to take his daughters away for Christmas. Maybe she was right. Beth and Annie were hurting over their mother’s death and no words seemed to comfort them.
Hell, he didn’t understand.
He’d never expected to fall in love with a soldier, but he hadn’t been able to ask Erika to give up something she’d believed in, even after their twin daughters were born. Her father and grandfather had served in the army and she’d prepared her whole life to follow in their footsteps. The night he’d proposed, Erika had reminded him that it couldn’t always be someone else’s husband or wife or daughter who served.
The sound of a throat clearing made Luke realize his thoughts had drifted yet again. He looked into Tilly’s determined eyes. “Why are you so sure that going away is the right idea? Even the grief therapists I’ve consulted can’t agree.”
“I’m not sure, but hanging around Austin hasn’t done you much good,” she replied bluntly. “How long has it been since you got a full night’s sleep?”
Longer than he could remember.
If he slept, he dreamed about his wife, especially their last vacation. The twins had been five and Erika had managed to get leave from her unit in the Middle East. She’d met them in Italy. They’d spent two weeks with the girls, exploring Tuscany. Three months later, an army notification team had shown up, regretfully informing him that his wife had died in the line of duty.
Telling Annie and Beth had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. The look on their faces had haunted him ever since. It was as if they’d retreated into themselves and he didn’t know how to bring them back.
“I’ve never slept that much, Tilly, you know that. And it’s Beth and Annie that matter.” Luke tossed his pen onto the desk. “Do you have a place in mind for your great plan?”
“I’m sure we can come up with something.”
His first thought was the large villa he’d rented for the family in Tuscany. The twins had enjoyed the indoor pool and the villa had come fully staffed. He shook his head. What was he thinking? Italy was the last place they’d seen Erika. It would simply remind them that she wasn’t there.
“Maybe the Caribbean,” he mused.
“Absolutely not,” Tilly told him sharply. “That’s where you went that time Erika’s leave was revoked. And don’t suggest the French château you went to three years ago, either. You should go somewhere completely new. Take a look at this.” She slapped a paper down on his desk.
It was a printout from the website of a place called Poppy Gold Inns on the West Coast.
“California?”
Tilly’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with California. As a matter of fact, General Pierson’s aide recommended Poppy Gold the last time we spoke. I’m sure I can clear your appointment and meeting schedule for the next month.”
“A month?” he repeated. “How did we go from getting out of town for Christmas to a whole month?”
“It has to be long enough to do some good. Better yet, stay a week or two into the New Year. They have a fully equipped business center, so you’d be able to handle anything urgent that comes up.”
“Let me take a look.”
Luke turned to his computer and pulled up the website for Poppy Gold Inns, where the holidays—both Thanksgiving and Christmas—were the main theme. According to the description, the entire historic district of a town in the California Gold Country had been converted to a group of bed-and-breakfast inns. In the pictures, Poppy Gold Inns was a quaint Victorian village, decorated to the nines with holly, evergreen and red velvet bows.
“I don’t see any snow,” he said, “so it obviously wouldn’t be a white Christmas.”
Tilly snorted. “When was the last time we had a white Christmas in Austin, Texas? Down here, it’s Santa Claus in a cowboy hat, driving a stagecoach. Stop procrastinating. I’ve checked and one of the houses is available.”
“You’ve already checked? Let me guess—you’ve already reserved it, too.”
“Of course. I didn’t want anyone else to take it while you were dragging your feet. It needed a referral from General Pierson’s office, so the clock was ticking.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. Maybe a change would be best for the girls.
For him, too.
“All right, clear my calendar from the last week of November through the first week of January,” he told her. “We’ll take the jet and leave the day after Thanksgiving.”
Tilly pursed her lips. “What about your parents? They planned to be in Austin until the twenty-fifth.”
Luke loved his mother and father, but they could be something of a trial. Craig and Heather Forrester both had generous trust funds, but when he was a kid, they’d always spent their annual allowance within nine or ten months. He’d hated the way they lived off their wealthier friends the rest of the year. Luke’s grandparents on both sides had given up on them before his sister, Nicole, was born, being people who heartily disapproved of a frivolous lifestyle. He barely remembered them.
“Get my parents invited to an embassy dinner in Washington. They’ll regretfully call off their trip to Austin.”
Craig and Heather’s latest goal was getting appointed to a diplomatic post. They were effortlessly charming, so it was possible, but he doubted they understood that being in the diplomatic corps required actual effort. Work wasn’t a concept they grasped well.
“Which embassy?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just find one that’s having a party. I’ll ask my sister if she wants to come with us to California.”
“You’ll also need a tutor for the girls so they don’t get behind in school.” Tilly made a note on her pad. “Anything else?”
“Not right now, but I hope this bed-and-breakfast place has decent plumbing.”
Tilly looked smug. “If they don’t, you can fire me.”
“I’ve fired you a hundred times. You refuse to go.”
“That’s what makes me such a valuable employee... I don’t listen to a word you say.”
He smiled faintly. Tilly was more valuable to him than a thousand other employees and she knew it.
As she walked out of the office, he closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to when life had been simpler. But life never got simpler. It just got harder.
CHAPTER ONE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
CARLIE BENTON BREEZED through the back entrance of Old City Hall. No longer a civic building, it housed the reservation hub and guest reception area for Poppy Gold Inns and Conference Center, along with various offices and other useful spaces.
“Good morning,” called a familiar voice.
Carlie grinned at her aunt. “Good morning, Aunt Polly. Wasn’t Thanksgiving terrific?”
“It was wonderful. I think we broke a record for everyone getting back home to Glimmer Creek for the holiday.”
“That’s because they wanted to see Tessa’s baby.”
Polly Murphy beamed. “I don’t think Tessa and Gabe got to hold their daughter the entire afternoon, even to change Meredith’s diapers.”
“Tessa was able to nurse Merri, that’s all.” Carlie glanced at the clock. “Oops, I’ve got to go. Busy day. See you later.”
Until sixteen months ago, Carlie had been working in the San Francisco Bay Area, only returning to her hometown for visits. Then she’d been hired as the Poppy Gold Inns’ activity director. Carlie loved it and in many ways working at the historic bed-and-breakfast facility was like attending a family reunion every day. Her cousin Tessa McKinley was the owner-manager along with her father, Liam Connor, and half the employees were related in one way or another.
If only her own father...
A hint of melancholy went through Carlie. Dad had been injured the previous summer while laying down asphalt on a road as a highway worker. An impatient driver had sped around some slow-moving cars and plowed into him, permanently damaging his leg. Mike Benton now worked as a traffic flagger at road construction sites, which he hated. But he also wouldn’t take a job at Poppy Gold, no matter how much the family cajoled him.
“I don’t want anybody’s pity,” he’d declared on more than one occasion. He didn’t understand that it wouldn’t be pity; it would be giving Poppy Gold the benefit of three decades of practical, hands-on civil engineering experience.
Carlie shook the thought away and greeted the members of her staff who’d already arrived.
“Did you hear...?” Joan Peters started to say, only to stop and blush.
“Hear what?” asked Carlie.
“Nothing,” Tracy Wade said hastily.
Tracy and Joan exchanged glances and hurriedly went back to making holiday name tags for the staff.
Carlie frowned.
She’d sensed an air of anticipation in Old City Hall after arriving, but had put it down to adrenaline. They had to hit the ground running to get ready for Christmas, so there was little time for day-after-Thanksgiving relaxation. For the next six weeks, Poppy Gold would be devoted to the Christmas and New Year celebrations. The Victorian village was ideally suited for strings of lights, electric candles in the windows, mistletoe, evergreen swags and everything else that was bright and cheerful.
“Is something going on that I should know about?” she asked.
“Uh, no. We mustn’t gossip.”
Especially here at work, Carlie added silently.
Gossip was a form of entertainment in the small town of Glimmer Creek, but it was discouraged at Poppy Gold, particularly when it came to their guests.
Carlie didn’t have time to think about anything new, regardless. The basic holiday schedule had been established long before she’d begun working as the activities director, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be busy implementing her own ideas. Traditionally, the autumn decorations came down the morning after Thanksgiving, with Christmas arriving with a vengeance the next day. Well, it would arrive with a fervent festive spirit.
Poppy Gold Inns had guests who booked years in advance for Christmas kickoff day, as the regulars called it. Visitors didn’t have to participate, but being able to join in as part of the “work crew” was why many of them came for the extended Thanksgiving weekend, saying it got them in the mood for the holiday. Some loved decorating trees, some preferred making wreaths, while others strung evergreen garlands on fences or lampposts or worked on the public areas of a specific Victorian. There were lots of things to do for all ages.
In her office, Carlie pulled up a list of the expected Friday check-ins on the computer, her eyebrows shooting upward when she saw that the largest suite at the John Muir Cottage had been reserved for the next month by the Forrester family. Actually, for the next month and a half.
Forrester?
The name seemed familiar, but she couldn’t think why.
Carlie dialed her cousin’s number. Tessa was Poppy Gold’s manager, and if anyone knew what was going on, she was the one. After all, the John Muir Cottage was special. Poppy Gold reserved it for active service members, as well as veterans and military families who were going through a difficult period.
“Hi,” she said when Tessa answered. “I wanted to check with you about the John Muir Cottage. The Yosemite suite has been reserved through January 7. What if you get an urgent referral for someone else?”
“We’ll put them in the Gold Strike House or find something else. You know we always keep a certain percentage of space available for emergencies, though nothing the size of the Yosemite suite. It should be okay. Referrals for families are rare at Christmastime.”
“But a month and a half? That’s longer than normal.”
“It’s an unusual situation. I, um...” Tessa sounded distracted, probably because of the baby crying in the background. A moment later, she came back on the line. “Sorry, Merri needed some attention. Anyway, Mrs. Forrester was an army major who died in the Middle East. The father wants to get away from home with his twin daughters to help them through the holiday season. Apparently they’re still having a rough time dealing with their mother’s death.”
Forrester?
Carlie’s jaw dropped as she realized why the name was familiar. The year before it had been on magazine covers, scandal rags, newspapers...everywhere. There weren’t too many wealthy men whose wives had died wearing army fatigues and the media had covered the story for weeks. She’d felt terrible for them. Grief should be a private thing.
“Uh...oh, I see,” Carlie said. “Are they staying under the usual terms?”
Poppy Gold’s policy was to offer military families seven days of rest and relaxation at no charge, and a substantially reduced rate for longer visits, but Luke Forrester could probably buy Poppy Gold with his pocket change. She remembered the articles about him saying he had the Midas touch for everything from real estate to investing to manufacturing. Basically, he ran a huge conglomerate of different companies.
“It was a regular referral from General Pierson’s office, so it wouldn’t seem right to treat them differently from anyone else who’s stayed there.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Carlie hung up. Her staff had left on various tasks, giving her a quiet moment to think. Celebrities often visited Poppy Gold, so she couldn’t be sure the air of anticipation she’d noticed was because of Luke Forrester’s imminent arrival. It seemed possible, though. He was a different kind of celebrity and female employees were bound to see him as a romantically tragic figure, particularly the unmarried ones.
She shook her head and went to the storeroom to finish checking the contents of the shipment received on Wednesday. This year, she’d suggested they give a uniquely designed Poppy Gold Christmas ornament to the guests and volunteers for kickoff day. But the ornaments had arrived late and she and her staff were still checking for quality and putting them back into their gift boxes.
Two hours later, she got up and stretched. She wasn’t done, but she wanted to attend a noon luncheon at the concert hall catered by Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Sarah was one of her cousins and a fabulous cook and baker.
It was a fun event, featuring dishes made with “leftover” turkey. Of course, they weren’t actually leftovers because the catering staff had been baking turkey all night, but the guests wouldn’t care. They could enjoy “leftover” Thanksgiving dishes, but also curried turkey salad, turkey croquettes, turkey sandwiches...along with a huge number of other inventive offerings.
Creative Turkey Bites had started nine years ago when Tessa’s mother decided a few of their stay-over guests might miss leftovers. Because of that, Poppy Gold had begun serving a second turkey meal on the Friday after Thanksgiving. The tickets were expensive, but worth twice the price in Carlie’s opinion.
“Carlie, Bill Blalock just phoned,” Tim Mahoney called out from his cubicle. “Your presence is requested in Guest Reception.”
Because her office was located in Old City Hall, she was sometimes asked to help out with public relations issues. On the few occasions when her presence was “requested,” it meant they had a difficult guest. She headed to the reception area, only to stop and blink when she saw Luke Forrester standing near the curved mahogany reception counter.
His pictures hadn’t done him justice. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen—and the most grumpy-looking one, too. Two little girls stood nearby. Both seemed solemn and anxious and one had tearstains on her face. Plainly they weren’t experiencing any warm, after-Thanksgiving glow.
Carlie stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Carlie Benton. May I help you?”
“Yes. We’ve been up since two this morning and now I’ve been informed we can’t get into our accommodations for several hours,” Luke Forrester snapped, ignoring her extended hand.
“I see.”
So much for romantically tragic; he was more like the Grinch who’d stolen Christmas. Carlie cast a look at the clock. It was shortly before noon and check-in started at 4:00 p.m. unless prior arrangements had been made. Both the website and any employee Mr. Forrester talked to would have made that clear.
Carlie walked around to a registration monitor and confirmed they had a standard reservation, with no special requests.
“I’m sorry, but your rooms aren’t ready yet.” She smiled at the two girls, who had to be identical twins—they were as alike as two peas in a pod. “In the meantime, would you like to have a yummy lunch?”
The one whose cheeks were tearstained ducked her head while the other offered a tiny smile in return. “Yes, thank you. I’m Beth,” she said. “And this is my sister, Annie.”
She nudged Annie, who wiggled her fingers in a small wave.
“It’s great to meet you both. I’m Carlie.”
“Excuse me, you haven’t explained why you weren’t ready for us when we arrived,” Luke Forrester interjected impatiently.
Carlie fixed him with the steady gaze she’d cultivated dealing with newspaper reporters at her old public relations job. It was never easy for her to stay calm, though. She had a terrible temper.
“Mr. Forrester, I’m very sorry, but check-in time is 4:00 p.m. We had visitors at the John Muir Cottage last night. They left on schedule and our housekeeping staff is working to get everything ready for you. In the meantime, there’s a special luncheon being served down the street. You and your daughters are welcome to eat as our guests while you’re waiting.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and she expected further demands, but he finally said, “Fine,” in a sharp tone.
Carlie glanced at Bill Blalock. He was excellent with people, so it was unusual for him not to be able to handle a difficult client. Of course, no matter how skilled he was, a few guests always insisted on speaking to someone with more authority. In most cases, she’d discovered they’d caused their own problem and didn’t want to take responsibility.
“Bill, please call me when Mr. Forrester’s accommodations are ready,” she asked, giving him a significant look that suggested putting a rush on the cleaning crew.
Poppy Gold Inns allowed guests into their rooms early when feasible, but first they had to be properly prepared and approved by a housekeeping supervisor. While Carlie didn’t believe that bad manners and arbitrary expectations should be rewarded, the Forrester family was obviously under a great deal of strain. Quickly getting them into their suite would be best all around.
“I’ll take care of it,” Bill promised. “Don’t be concerned about your luggage, Mr. Forrester. We’ll secure your bags here and deliver them later.”
* * *
LUKE NODDED CURTLY.
He still questioned whether this trip to California was the best idea for the girls, and being told the house wasn’t available hadn’t helped. A part of him knew it was unreasonable to be upset, but nothing was going well.
Flying at night was his preference since it saved time, but the jet’s copilot had been rear-ended while driving to the airport. Though she’d escaped injury, Luke had insisted she take a few days off. Not wanting to wait for a replacement, he’d taken the copilot’s seat himself rather than working during the flight as planned. He held a pilot’s license for emergencies, though this had mostly qualified as an inconvenience.
His sister was still in Austin; she was being treated for an ear infection and couldn’t fly until the doctor said it was okay. Luke had hired a backup copilot and sent the jet back to Texas so Nicole could come once she was well enough for travel.
The limousine service had been late meeting them at the airport and the drive to Glimmer Creek on the small curving roads had upset Annie’s stomach. She’d cried and gotten sick, only to push him away when he tried to help.
On top of everything else, the private tutor he’d hired had canceled just hours before their departure, so now he’d have to get someone local.
A polite throat-clearing sound drew his attention. “This way, Mr. Forrester,” said Carlie Benton.
She was holding Beth’s hand, and though her expression was pleasant, Luke suspected she wasn’t impressed with him. That was okay. He hadn’t gotten where he was without making a few enemies.
“Do either of you skate?” Carlie asked the girls as they walked down the front steps. “Ice skating, I mean.”
“Yes, but not like Aunt Nicole,” Beth told her. “She’s awfully good. She can spin and twirl and everything.”
“Aunt Nicole was s’posed to come with us in Papa’s jet, but her ear got sick,” Annie half whispered, making Luke’s eyes widen. Annie was shier than her sister and rarely spoke to strangers.
“That’s too bad. Is she coming later?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m glad. We have a skating rink starting tomorrow after the water freezes, so you’ll have a chance to skate if your papa doesn’t mind.” Carlie stopped and pointed across the street to the park. “It’s going to be right over there, past that little white bandstand. And you know what else we’re having this year? A sledding hill. That is, we’ll have one when the temperature is cold enough to make snow.”
“Yippee,” cried Beth.
Carlie grinned at both girls and continued walking. Down the street was an attractive building with a historic marker on the front lawn saying Glimmer Creek Concert Hall. It reminded Luke of the concert hall at the historic Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado.
Where he’d stayed with Erika on their honeymoon.
Hell, how long would everything remind him of what he’d lost?
Frustrated, Luke directed his thoughts elsewhere as they climbed the steps. On the pillared veranda, he read a freestanding sign next to the door. “Creative Turkey Bites?” he asked wryly. “So your ‘special’ luncheon is recycled Thanksgiving leftovers.”
“We don’t serve leftovers at Poppy Gold,” Carlie said, her blue eyes glittering coolly. “The meal showcases the ways leftover turkey could be made into something new and different. In addition, traditional Thanksgiving dishes are provided for people who still want them. But everything is freshly prepared.”
Inside, there was a buzz of conversation and Carlie was greeted by one guest after another. She introduced Beth and Annie by their first names only, for which Luke was grateful. While it was entirely possible nobody would recognize their names, he preferred to avoid awkward moments. Privacy was important, particularly for his daughters.
A barbershop quartet in red-and-white-striped jackets was entertaining in the front of the hall, their mellow tones resonating around the room. While pleasant, the decorations were still autumnal in theme and Luke worried the girls would be disappointed. He’d told them that spending the holidays in California would be like going to a Christmas wonderland. When would he learn not to promise something he couldn’t control?
“Good afternoon, Sarah,” Carlie said to a slender blonde woman wearing a chef’s apron. “This is Luke and his two daughters, Annie and Beth. They’re Poppy Gold’s guests today for lunch.”
Sarah beamed. “Welcome. Just get in line and tell the servers what you want to try.”
“Thanks.” Carlie crouched so she was level with Annie. “Would you like to wash your face before you eat?” she asked gently.
“Okay.” Annie put her fingers in Carlie’s outstretched hand.
“Is that all right?” Carlie queried, looking up at him. “I can take her through the food line when we get back. Just let me know if she has any allergies.”
“It’s fine. Neither of the girls have allergies.”
Yet Luke was perturbed as he watched his daughter leave with her. Damn it, he was Annie’s father, but she’d refused to let him help her, either in the limousine or after they’d arrived.
Sometimes he questioned whether Beth and Annie blamed him for their mother not being there. Sometimes he even wondered that himself. If he hadn’t been so open-minded about Erika staying in the service, she might still be alive.
Open-minded?
He snorted at the thought. Hardly. More than anything he’d wanted to keep Erika at home. Even the media had known he wasn’t open-minded. What was the headline that had become so popular...the Beauty and the Autocrat?
It hadn’t been fair to his wife. While beautiful, she’d also been a brilliant, decisive army officer. Luke didn’t see himself as autocratic, either—he just tried to make sure the people he cared about were safe and didn’t lack for anything. There was nothing wrong with that. Nonetheless, he’d wanted to be supportive of Erika’s career choice.
The irony was that his wife had raised the question of resigning her commission after the girls were born. He’d tried not to influence her, so now he would always wonder what might have happened if he’d followed his instincts and asked her to stay home.
* * *
“IS THAT BETTER?” Carlie asked Annie, drying her cheeks with a towel.
The youngster heaved a sigh. “I guess. But my eyes are scratchy.”
“You’ll probably forget about it when you eat.”
They were in the lounge area of the restroom and Annie patted the cushion she was sitting on. “This couch is funny.”
“It’s called a fainting couch. They used to be popular back in the 1800s, which is when the concert hall was built. What do you know about Poppy Gold? That’s the name of this place.”
Annie shrugged. “Papa told Aunt Nicole that it’s a tourist town.”
Carlie knew she was biased, but Poppy Gold was a whole lot more than just a tourist town. “It’s a Victorian village, Annie, which means it was built long ago when Queen Victoria ruled England. People visit here and stay in our homes and hotels. We have lots of fun things to do and I think you came at the best time of all. Christmas is my favorite time of year.”
“I used to like it, too. But, um, I’m not sure anymore.”
“Maybe we can make it your favorite again. Will you give Poppy Gold a chance?”
Annie chewed her lip for a long minute. “I’ll try.”
Sadness went through Carlie. The child couldn’t be more than six, yet her eyes were much older.
Out in the main hall, Carlie took her through the food line, letting her carry her plate to the table where Beth and her father were sitting.
Luke murmured a “Thank you,” along with his daughter.
“You’re welcome to eat all you like,” Carlie said, winking at Beth and giving Annie a smile meant just for her.
Over at the serving table, she got back in line.
“Lots of turkey curry salad,” she told the server, someone on Sarah’s staff she didn’t know well.
“It’s my favorite, too.” The woman put three large scoops onto the plate and sprinkled them with roasted cashews. “What else can I get you?”
“One of the turkey-and-cranberry-cream-cheese sandwiches. And some green salad so I can pretend I’m eating healthy again.”
“You got it.”
Plate filled, Carlie joined her aunt Polly at a table along the wall.
Aunt Polly clucked at her. “I was trying to ignore that curry salad. Your hips can stand it—mine can’t.”
“Sorry.” Carlie ate a forkful. “Would it help if I said it was terrible?”
“Nope, because I’d know you were lying.”
It was a lie. The food that Sarah and her catering staff prepared was always fabulous.
Carlie periodically looked over at the Forrester family, noticing that Annie and Beth were talking to each other, but Luke didn’t seem to be talking to anyone. He was eating, though, and drinking large amounts of the specially blended Poppy Gold coffee.
Carlie’s tension grew as the meal progressed. Being six-year-olds, Annie and Beth were slow eaters, but they would finish eventually. If they weren’t in their suite soon, she’d have to go to plan B to keep them busy. Fortunately, her phone rang as she was swallowing a last bite of custard-rhubarb pie. It was Bill Blalock saying the Yosemite suite was ready for the Forresters.
“Thanks, Bill. Great timing—they just finished.”
“Their luggage is already in the cottage and Christine will personally escort them in a guest shuttle. She’s outside the concert hall as we speak.”
“Terrific. I’ll let them know.”
She got up and crossed the hall to where the Forresters were sitting. “Hi. I just got the call that your rooms are ready. A shuttle is waiting outside to take you there.”
Luke Forrester nodded. He wore a slightly mellower expression, possibly aided by food and coffee.
Time would tell what kind of guest he’d be. But at least he did have two adorable daughters.
CHAPTER TWO (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
“YOU’RE IN THE Yosemite suite,” Christine Saunders explained as she stopped the electric shuttle in front of a Victorian. “The door opens off the garden on the south side. Breakfast will be delivered by our caterer, Sarah’s Sweet Treats, and Housekeeping will come each morning to clean. Is anytime after eight too early, or would you prefer later?”
Luke stared at the young woman who’d driven them from the concert hall. “Are you saying we don’t have the entire house?”
“Er, no, Mr. Forrester. The John Muir Cottage is divided into several different suites, but the Yosemite is the largest and has private access. Please be assured, the walls are well insulated, so it should be very quiet.”
His temper began to rise again. It had been on a short fuse for the past year, and when he was particularly tired, it was even worse.
“It was my understanding I’d rented the entire house.”
Confusion flitted across her face. “Did someone at Poppy Gold tell you that?”
“I didn’t speak to anyone here. My executive assistant made the arrangements. She said—”
Luke stopped abruptly and gritted his teeth. Actually, all Tilly had said was that they were staying at the John Muir Cottage. Which, despite being called a cottage, was actually a large, rambling Victorian. He’d simply assumed they’d have the entire house and all the amenities he was accustomed to having when he traveled.
Damn it, Tilly knew the locations where he took the girls always had a full staff, from housekeepers to nannies. She’d mentioned they’d have to eat out for lunch and dinner, but that was all.
“Mr. Forrester, I assure you the Yosemite suite is quite spacious,” Christine explained earnestly. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs you have a smaller bedroom, a family room, front living room, powder room, kitchen and laundry. Each bedroom also has a private bath.”
The comment Luke had made to Tilly about modern plumbing flitted through his mind. It hadn’t occurred to him that some of the bedrooms might not have a private bath.
“Very well,” he said tensely. There was little else he could do. It was unlikely that other suitable accommodations were available in the small town and returning to Austin would just upset the girls even more. “After eight is fine for Housekeeping, but I’d prefer breakfast earlier.”
“Is the seven to eight time slot all right?”
“Yes.” Luke lifted his daughters out of the shuttle.
“Would you like me to show you around the suite?” Christine asked.
“Thanks, but we’ll be fine.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay. Please let us know if there’s anything you need.” She drove away before he could get his wallet out for a tip.
“Let’s go see our home for the next few weeks,” he said to Beth and Annie.
They looked at him doubtfully. Perhaps he should have brought their nanny, but he’d agreed with Tilly that if the trip was going to do any good, a complete break was best. He just hadn’t expected Nicole to get sick and the tutor to drop out at the eleventh hour.
He’d manage, though. His sister would be here in a few days, and however small the town of Glimmer Creek appeared to be, surely they had qualified tutors available.
The garden around the John Muir Cottage was trimmed and mulched for winter, but it was still attractive. A covered porch overlooked the garden and rolling hills beyond, and it was furnished with white wicker outdoor furniture.
The real disappointment started inside.
While the rooms had a pleasant Victorian flavor, there were no Christmas decorations in sight. Granted, it was just the day after Thanksgiving, but he’d expected more. A thorough check of the premises also revealed there wasn’t a single piece of office equipment, though he could have sworn that Tilly had mentioned a full business center.
Beth and Annie had slept on the plane, but they seemed half-asleep now—maybe the turkey lunch was making them groggy—so he hunted through the luggage for their favorite stuffed animals and they curled into bed for a nap. Down in the kitchen, he dialed Tilly’s cell number. A chirpy voice-mail recording greeted him. Knowing Tilly Robinson and her determined attempts to manage his life, she probably planned to duck his calls for a few days until he cooled down.
“Tilly, it’s me,” he said after the beep. “I refuse to believe you didn’t know this is a suite, not the whole house, or that there’s no personal staff. Right now, it’s just me and the girls. The tutor didn’t come and Nicole couldn’t fly with us because she has an ear infection. She won’t be here for another few days. Get back to me.”
Muttering beneath his breath, he called the front desk.
“Yes, Mr. Forrester?” Based on the British accent, it was most likely the employee who’d first greeted them.
“I’d like to speak with Carlie Benton.”
“Certainly, but is there anything I can do?”
“I prefer dealing with Ms. Benton.” Luke wasn’t certain why except that she appeared to be the kind of person who could get things done. Besides, Beth and Annie had responded to her...a lot more than they’d responded to him the past year.
“Yes, sir.” A moment later, the same voice came back on the line. “I’m sorry—Carlie is away from her desk. But I’ve called her mobile and she’ll stop at your suite in a few minutes.”
Luke had frowned the moment he heard “away from her desk,” only to realize that a face-to-face discussion would be best.
* * *
CARLIE COULDN’T BELIEVE she already needed to deal with Luke Forrester again.
Though she was the Poppy Gold activities director, her responsibilities included public relations. The job had its challenging moments, but it was a big improvement over doing PR for a company with frequent product safety recalls. It was one of the reasons she’d resigned...along with not wanting to see her ex-fiancé every day. Especially after he’d gotten engaged to the owner’s daughter.
July the previous year had not been a good month. First her wedding had been canceled at the last minute in the most embarrassing way, and ten days later her father was critically injured.
A friendly voice hailed her as she approached the John Muir Cottage. “Hi, Carlie.”
It was Esther Perkins, one of their repeat guests. Esther lived in San Jose and stayed at Poppy Gold several times a year, but Christmas kickoff day seemed to be her favorite.
“What’s up, Esther?”
“I just want to be sure that I can decorate at the Victorian Cat tomorrow. I like it best.”
“Of course you can.” Guests weren’t employees; they could volunteer for anything they wanted to do.
“Do you think Moby Dick will let me put a red bow around his neck?” Esther asked. “It would look darling against his fur.”
Poppy Gold tried to make something unique about each of the houses, and at the Victorian Cat mansion, each room was populated by an amiable feline. Moby Dick was a fluffy white cat with a talent for manipulating guests into giving him extra treats.
Carlie chuckled. “Moby is easygoing, but I wouldn’t try making him wear a bow. Not to worry, though—Tessa found red and green cat collars from a specialty store and they’ll be put on the VC cats tomorrow.”
“That’s wonderful.”
With a wave, Esther hurried away and Carlie continued toward the John Muir Cottage, wishing all their guests were like Esther Perkins.
Bill had offered to give Luke Forrester her cell number to save her a trip, but Luke was the kind of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to phone at 2:00 a.m. to demand a cup of tea. The twenty-four-hour staff in Guest Reception could handle those kinds of calls and decide whom to contact in case of something more serious. She might do public relations work in addition to being the activities director, but she wasn’t a frontline manager, thank goodness.
Trying to appear friendly rather than frustrated, Carlie knocked at the Yosemite suite.
The door opened almost immediately.
“Hello, Mr. Forrester. I understand you asked for me.”
He cocked his head as if listening for something and then stepped onto the porch. “Yes, I have several concerns. For one, where are the decorations? I promised my daughters this would be a holiday extravaganza. Even though this is just the day after Thanksgiving, I expected to see a few signs of Christmas.”
Carlie could see his concern and knew it wouldn’t help to point out that the website listed the date when Poppy Gold was decorated. At any rate, it was Annie and Beth who mattered and Carlie didn’t want them to be disappointed.
“I understand, but tomorrow should reassure the girls. Our guests call it Christmas kickoff day,” she told him. “Members of the historical society will be in Victorian costumes and go around caroling in small groups. In addition, we’ll have snack kiosks throughout the facility serving coffee, hot spiced cider, cocoa and a selection of cookies and other treats. It’s purely voluntary, but guests are invited to help decorate trees, make wreaths, put up decorations and this ye—”
“You have guests do staff work?” Luke’s tone was neutral, with only the faintest emphasis on the words guests and staff, but Carlie spotted a hint of derision in his eyes. Her temper rose, but she managed to squash it down again.
“Not staff work, just fun. Kickoff day is extremely popular. Most of our guests come for Thanksgiving weekend just to participate,” she replied evenly.
The event was expensive for Poppy Gold since they needed an army of employees to keep an eye on things, do the heavy work, watch the treat kiosks and do the primary decorating. Getting everything done in one day would be impossible without the massive amounts of planning and prep work she and the other Poppy Gold employees did for weeks beforehand.
“I’m sure it’s entertaining if you enjoy that sort of thing.” Luke’s expression suggested only a moron would enjoy “that sort of thing.”
Her smile became even more strained. She loved Christmas...the colors, music, the warmth, the decorating and the way many people seemed to behave nicer in the holiday season. Though in Luke Forrester’s case, she’d hate to think this was his “nice.”
“As I mentioned, Mr. Forrester, participation is voluntary. If you aren’t interested in decorating, my staff has planned a number of activities, as well. As for your suite, it will be dec—”
“Not by nosy guests, I presume,” he said, cutting her off a second time. “I expect privacy. As a matter of fact, I expected to have the entire house, not just a section of it.”
Muscles tightening, Carlie reminded herself again that Luke Forrester had lost his wife and no matter how wealthy and demanding, he was dealing with something traumatic.
She drew a deep breath. “Employees decorate inside the suites. As for having the entire house, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” she apologized as cordially as possible. “But there are eleven bedrooms in the John Muir Cottage and dividing the space means it’s available to multiple individuals or families.”
“I see.”
“Before I forget, I wanted to tell you that since we’re supposed to have a hard freeze tonight, we’re starting the snowmakers on the sledding hill as soon as the temperature drops low enough. Probably around eight. Spiced cider and other goodies will be served. I thought Annie and Beth might enjoy it.”
“I don’t think so. We’ve had a long day.”
“Please, Papa, can we go?” asked a voice from the open door behind them.
Luke jerked around. “Beth, I thought you were asleep.”
“I woke up. Carlie, can you take us to see the snow if Papa is too tired?”
Carlie made an effort to keep her face straight. “That’s up to your papa.” She’d hoped to be sliding into a warm bath by then, but couldn’t resist the entreaty in Beth’s eyes.
“I wanna go with Carlie,” Annie declared, peeking around her sister.
Luke seemed thoroughly harassed. “Very well. That is, we’ll all go. Now go back to bed. You’ll need extra rest if you’re going to be out late.”
The twins instantly hurried away and Carlie tried to look innocent as he turned to her. “Shall I come by around seven thirty this evening?”
“No, we’ll meet you there.”
“Fine. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I need a tutor for the girls. The one I hired in Austin quit at the last minute.”
I wonder why, Carlie thought wryly.
“I also need a business center installed,” he continued. “Desk, a computer with dual monitors, a minimum of two additional phone lines, printer-fax machine and satellite communications. The downstairs bedroom can be used since it won’t be needed for a live-in tutor. I’ll be managing my business concerns remotely for the next six weeks, and contrary to what your website claims, there aren’t any business services in the suite.”
She stared. Had he honestly believed those kinds of facilities were installed in every building at Poppy Gold?
“There’s a courtesy business center available at Old City Hall,” Carlie told him firmly. “That’s what the website states. At this time of year we don’t book any business conferences, so except for a few guests checking their email, it’s empty most of the time.”
“I need one here in the suite.”
Carlie suspected her patience was going to be tested to the absolute limit by this guy.
“Mr. Forrester, the John Muir Cottage isn’t wired for that kind of technology. However, Poppy Gold has Wi-Fi and we can provide a multifunction printer for your visit, along with a computer since you apparently didn’t bring your own laptop. The existing phone line can be used to send and receive faxes.”
His features tightened. “I do have a laptop with me, but I keep it off-line when I’m outside my company’s firewall. I take it there isn’t a business supply store in Glimmer Creek where a new computer could be purchased.”
“No.”
“In that case, I’ll take the loaner until my assistant can arrange for the proper equipment to be sent.”
She nodded. “All right. As for a tutor, the school district has a list of people who do that sort of work. I’ll send a copy over and you can call them for interviews.”
“I—”
“Have a good rest of the day,” Carlie interrupted brightly. “I’m going back to my office now to get things started. If you get hungry, there are several restaurants that deliver. Just consult the information folder in the kitchen. We put a facility map in there, so you shouldn’t have a problem finding the sledding hill later. See you then.”
Carlie hurried away before she lost her cool and gave him a piece of her mind. Honestly, he wanted a full office in his suite? According to what Tessa had said, Luke Forrester was at Poppy Gold to help his daughters through Christmas, but how was he going to do that if it was business as usual for him?
* * *
LUKE CLOSED THE door and groaned. The coffee he’d drunk had carried him for an extra hour, but that was all.
At home he’d be working, no matter how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. Except for the rare times Erika had been on leave, he used the day after Thanksgiving to read reports and make calls to overseas associates who didn’t celebrate the US holiday.
As for Beth and Annie, they would have gone to the Austin zoo or aquarium with his parents. Curiously, becoming grandparents had changed Craig and Heather Forrester. A little at least. They were still irresponsible in many ways, but they tried to spend time with their granddaughters every couple of months.
He appreciated it. When he was growing up, they’d acted more like reckless playmates than dependable adults. Money was no longer a problem for them, either, since he’d quietly tripled the size of their trust funds and arranged for the trustees to disburse the payments monthly, rather than annually.
Inexplicably, his thoughts drifted to Carlie Benton. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so tired and distracted he might have handled their contacts with more grace. He certainly should have realized they wouldn’t have a business center in every suite at Poppy Gold Inns, but he’d grown accustomed to the kind of services provided by Caribbean villas and French châteaus.
Tilly often claimed he’d been spoiled by success and needed a dose of reality... Maybe this was her way of giving it to him.
Luke got up and found the informational folder Carlie had mentioned, flipping through it to acquaint himself with Poppy Gold’s amenities and those of the local community. Then he saw a reminder of the check-in and checkout times and sighed.
Apparently he’d made an ass of himself in more ways than one.
* * *
NICOLE FORRESTER PUT a warm compress against her infected ear and wondered how Luke and her nieces were getting settled in California. The pictures she’d seen on the internet of the Victorian community looked wonderful.
She’d always wanted to explore the Gold Country; stories of the 1849 Gold Rush had fascinated her as a child. Well, a lot of things fascinated her. She’d just never found a vocation that compelled her. Instead, she worked for her brother as a computer programmer. Luke paid his employees well and provided excellent benefits, but she hadn’t earned the job on her own merits. He also did ridiculously generous things like buying a new car every year for her birthday and paying off her condo, no matter how much she protested.
Her protective big brother. She adored him, though ever since Erika’s death, he’d been different.
Everything had been different.
Depressed, Nicole stuffed another pillow behind her neck. Sometimes it seemed as if she hadn’t achieved a single thing with her life. Certainly nothing like Luke, who’d made his first billion by the time he was twenty-seven. Everything he touched turned to gold. Soon afterward he’d gotten married and a few years later the twins were born. He seemed able to do anything, whether it was achieving wild success in real estate, playing the stock market or building a massive conglomerate company with dozens of subsidiaries.
Or finding someone who genuinely loved him.
Bored and vaguely discouraged, Nicole turned on the television and flipped through the cable channels. Finally she got up and put a DVD into the player. She hadn’t watched Forbidden Planet in a while and it would be a distraction. Normally she wasn’t so moody, but getting sick and being unable to travel with Luke and her nieces was lousy timing.
She was worried about Luke and just as worried about Beth and Annie. Annie was shy and introverted, while Beth plowed ahead, often thoughtlessly. They were young, but patterns were established early.
Nicole shuddered as she recalled a kid she’d met in childhood. The Forresters had been out of money as usual, so they’d invited themselves to stay with wealthy friends in South Carolina. Kira was the Lexingtons’ only child and had demanded her own way in everything. She was still like that...which might explain her four divorces.
The opening segment of the film began playing and Nicole relaxed. Some of the special effects were poor, but she loved old science fiction movies and Forbidden Planet was one of her favorites. It was great seeing Walter Pidgeon and Leslie Nielsen on the screen together—one older, one younger, and both equally delicious.
Yet in a way, seeing the character played by Anne Francis was discouraging. The woman was fearless, even if she wasn’t always likable. Nicole wished she could be more like that...strong, bold and unafraid. Instead, she tried to be invisible most of the time.
She pulled a lap robe over her legs. It was still just midafternoon and she ought to be doing something productive, but she wanted to recover and get out to California as soon as possible. Anyway, she was already packed and ready to go. She just needed the swelling in her ear to go down so it would be safe to fly.
* * *
CARLIE DROPPED BY the maintenance yard to see the loads of fresh evergreen that had been delivered that morning. The crew was sorting the branches, cutting them into usable sections and loading everything into containers for delivery to the various decorating work sites.
Lord, it really would be easier if Poppy Gold didn’t invite guests to help decorate. That way the evergreen swags and wreaths could be made ahead of time and be ready to go up first thing in the morning. Of course, it wouldn’t be as much fun, either.
Carlie inhaled the thick scent of pine and cedar. She loved Christmas and had always tried to be there for kickoff day. Her ex-fiancé’s indifference to her favorite time of year should have been her first clue that he was the wrong guy for her.
“What are you doing here?” asked Uncle Liam. He smiled at her, almost the way he used to smile before Aunt Meredith had died. They’d shared a wonderful marriage and had created Poppy Gold together. “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy?”
“I’m just stressed and wanted a sniff—nothing says Christmas like fresh-cut evergreen boughs.”
He gave her a hug. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I’m okay, just feeling sorry for myself. It’s an unattractive habit I’m trying to break.”
Uncle Liam was less depressed now, but the family tried to keep things upbeat around him. He left managing Poppy Gold to Tessa, though he still looked after the maintenance department, while Tessa’s husband had taken over the security division.
Thinking about it reminded Carlie that she ought to give her cousin a heads-up about Luke Forrester. As the Poppy Gold owner-manager, she needed to know what was going on. So instead of going straight back to Old City Hall, Carlie stopped at Tessa’s office in the train depot and found her cuddling little Meredith.
Carlie’s throat ached. She was thirty-one, only a year younger than Tessa, and had hoped to be a mother herself by now. And she might be if Derek had been the man she’d thought.
Instead, the morning they were supposed to get married he’d told her it was a mistake. Yeah, a mistake...he’d asked another woman to marry him. Incredibly, he seemed to think it wasn’t cheating since he’d decided to call off the wedding before sleeping with someone else. Or at least that was what he’d claimed.
She wasn’t convinced. In the cold light of reason, Carlie suspected he’d seen an opportunity to marry into money and had taken it.
So instead of being a wife and mother, she was an honorary aunt to the younger members of the family. She’d have to be content with that for now, because she wasn’t ready to let her heart get shredded again.
Tessa looked up. “Hey, you look frustrated.”
Carlie determinedly pushed Derek out of her mind. He hadn’t been a part of her life for more than a year and didn’t warrant the kind of energy she was spending on him. Perhaps it was on her mind, seeing how happy Tessa was with her husband. Gabe McKinley seemed to be Tessa’s opposite in every respect, but the way he looked at her and his new daughter...
“Carlie?” Tessa prompted.
“Sorry, my brain was somewhere else. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Luke Forrester isn’t particularly happy. Apparently he believed his family would have the entire John Muir Cottage. He also wants a full office installed in the Yosemite suite, including satellite communications.”
Tessa blinked. “He couldn’t have been serious.”
“Noooo, he was quite serious. He plans to run his conglomerate from Poppy Gold while staying here. Anyway, I told him about the facilities we do have and that he’s welcome to use loaner equipment.”
“We don’t expect anybody to take abuse from a guest,” Tessa said quietly. “No matter what their circumstances.”
Carlie shook her head. “He’s just demanding and his daughters almost make up for him being difficult. They’re adorable. I just wanted you to know since there’s a good chance he won’t be satisfied, whatever we do.”
“Don’t lose any sleep over it. Maybe Poppy Gold will work its magic on him.”
“I hope the magic works fast.”
They chatted for another few minutes before Carlie got up and said goodbye.
On the walk to her office, she called her parents, who expected her for dinner with her two brothers, home visiting from college over the Thanksgiving break. Between everything she had left to do and attending the snowmaking event with the Forresters later, she wouldn’t be able to eat with them.
“I’ll send Quinn or Russ over with something for you to eat,” Mom offered instantly. When Leah Benton couldn’t do anything to fix a problem, she fed people.
“No need. I have stuff in the office fridge and ate too much at lunch, anyhow. How is Dad? I wish he hadn’t worked today.”
“You know...the usual.”
Yeah, Carlie knew.
Her father pretended everything was fine, but standing for so many hours as a traffic flagger made his chronic pain that much worse. He didn’t have to work—the settlement from the accident was enough to cover lost wages—but Mike Benton refused to take things easy. To his way of thinking, men worked to support their families. They didn’t live on insurance settlements.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Carlie got off and hurried up the Old City Hall’s front steps. Inside to the left was a broad, curving staircase that rose to an open, semicircular gallery in front of the ballroom. On the right, there was a pair of elaborate double doors set with an intricate pattern of sparkling beveled glass. They were a striking entryway into the guest reception area and original to the building, which made them even better. She waved at Bill and Christine through the clear oval center and headed through the rotunda.
Quickly she packed a spare computer from the storeroom into a box, along with a multifunction printer. Then she printed out the list of local tutors. Next to Luisa Cabrera’s name she wrote that Luisa had taught first grade for thirty-five years.
“Tim, would you take this to the Yosemite suite for me?” she asked, putting the list into an envelope.
“No problem.”
She sealed the envelope and then accessed her voice mail. There was only one message. It was from Luke Forrester and what he said practically knocked her to the floor.
“Ms. Benton, it’s Luke Forrester calling. I failed to thank you for our lunch today. It was a nice gesture. I’ve read through the informational packet you mentioned and see that Poppy Gold Inns’ standard check-in time is 4:00 p.m. So, um, it was good to get into our accommodations early. Have a good afternoon and we’ll see you tonight.”
Carlie blinked. All things considered, it was practically an apology.
* * *
THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED rapidly once the sun had gone down and Carlie shivered as she hurried across Poppy Gold to meet the Forresters at the sledding hill. Turning down the twins’ requests had been impossible, but she hadn’t expected to stay this late and had just worn a lightweight coat to work.
The sledding hill was in the more open section of Poppy Gold where a number of gold miners’ cabins and other relics of the 1849 Gold Rush were preserved.
As the story went, a few of the miners had dug their heels in when the “townsfolk” wanted to buy them out and build fine homes on the rolling land above the creek. They’d hung on, forcing the town to build north of them on a flatter section. Most had been abandoned by the time James Connor bought the historic district of Glimmer Creek, but they’d been restored now. A few were even available for people who wanted to try sleeping in a primitive gold miner’s shanty.
A number of guests had already gathered at the base of the hill, breath fogging as they sipped from paper cups. Cheerful greetings back and forth showed their spirits weren’t dampened by the chilly air. Stacks of hay bales lined the gentle slope, creating a wide channel down to the flatter area below. Spotlights illuminated the scene, along with Christmas lights on the bare branches of the surrounding trees.
Carlie checked to see if the Forresters had arrived before getting decaf coffee for herself, grateful to wrap her fingers around the warm cup. If Luke and the twins didn’t arrive soon, they might miss the first sprays of snow from the machines. Not that it was actually snow when it came out, but the water droplets froze almost instantly in the frigid air.
Hurry up, she urged mentally.
A couple of minutes later she spotted them coming up the lighted path.
“We’re just about to start,” she called.
The girls eagerly got cider and cookies and stood at the base of the slope with the other guests. They were just in time. Uncle Liam stood at the top with two large handbells. He raised his arms theatrically and shook them.
The snowmakers chugged into life, starting at the top of the hill and moving down, spewing white plumes across the grass. The onlookers cheered and someone began singing “Let It Snow.” The others joined in and it was soon followed by “Jingle Bells” and other festive songs.
There were sixteen snowmakers altogether and they could put out a huge amount of “snow” by morning. In the meantime, the holiday lights sparkled brilliantly against the plumes of white.
Despite her awareness of Luke Forrester’s brooding presence, Carlie smiled.
She really loved Christmas.
CHAPTER THREE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
CARLIE GOT TO Poppy Gold early before six the next morning and went over her to-do list one more time. Her division wasn’t in charge of decorating—they coordinated guest activities—but she still felt responsible for anything that would add to or detract from a visitor’s experience.
She went upstairs to the ballroom where volunteers and employees had gathered. A cheerful babble of people talking greeted her, along with the scent of coffee and breakfast foods.
Uncle Liam and Tessa were talking to the supervisors assigned to the teams of decorators. Tessa’s husband was also there. He managed security operations for Poppy Gold and was speaking to his staff, who would keep a careful eye on the buildings as they were decorated. Gabe was a former navy SEAL, so he was fierce about security. Poppy Gold had always felt safe, but with Gabe McKinley on the job, it was probably more secure than Fort Knox.
Carlie collected a cup of coffee and a bagel and gathered her own team for a chat. They’d already been over the day’s plans, so she mostly wanted to be sure they didn’t have any questions. It was her second Christmas as the activities director, but she was still filled with nervous anticipation.
Everything had been staged for kickoff day the night before, including putting out the kiosks to be used for treats and setting up the locations where the wreaths and evergreen swags would be made. The equipment and supplies to create and decorate the skating rink had also been moved into position.
“Okay, everybody,” Tessa called twenty minutes later, clapping her hands. “It’s nearly seven o’clock and some of our guests get out early. Let’s go.”
Employees and volunteers began streaming through the various doors. Poppy Gold tried to have everyone in position by the time the first guests had finished breakfast, but they never succeeded. Excitement trumped the desire to sleep. Some didn’t even wait to eat breakfast, but that was all right—the treat kiosks would be stocked within the hour.
Work would also begin on filling the skating rink; it might have been better to set it up the previous evening and let the chilly weather help with the freezing process, but this way visitors could watch. As for the snowmakers on the sledding hill, they’d run all night and would keep going until the temperature rose too high.
Snow was probably coming out of their ears by now.
Carlie ate her last bite of bagel and hurried down the main staircase, humming. Yet her festive spirit faltered when she saw Luke Forrester and his daughters in the rotunda. She certainly hoped he was in a better mood this morning.
“Merry Christmas,” she called. “I hope you didn’t get too cold last night.”
“It was splendid,” Beth declared while Annie smiled shyly and ducked her head.
“This is better,” Luke said, glancing around with visible approval. The night registration staff had started decorating after midnight and it was lovely.
“Thanks. What can I do for you, Mr. Forrester?”
“Well, I—”
“Papa, why does Carlie have to call you Mr. Forrester?” Beth interrupted.
“Uh, she doesn’t.” He focused on Carlie. “That is, please call me Luke. I’m afraid I spilled coffee on our list of activities for today. I came to get another copy.”
Spilling coffee was such a human thing to do that Carlie grinned. “No problem—we have plenty. Just give me a moment.” She went to the reception desk to fetch another list. She returned and held it out. “Here you go. Annie and Beth may also enjoy seeing how much snow has been made since last night. The temperature is still below freezing, so the machines should be operating.”
Luke looked down at the cream-colored paper with holly decorating the edges. He appeared more rested than he had the day before, but whether it would have a positive effect on his mood remained to be seen.
“Just in case, I also got you another copy of the events planned in the next week,” Carlie added, giving him a second sheet. “Those are just the activities that have been scheduled. Other things occur spontaneously.”
He frowned. “How can the girls join in if we don’t know what’s happening?”
What part of spontaneous didn’t he understand?
“Don’t stay in your suite,” she replied. “Go sledding. Come out to the events. Then if something happens, you’ll have a fair chance of getting involved.”
And don’t spend all your time working, she told him silently.
After getting home late the night before, she’d researched Luke Forrester on the internet. She’d felt guilty because it had seemed like reading petty gossip, but she’d figured that knowing more might help her deal with the guy. Descriptions like brilliant, decisive and confident had been mixed with less complimentary labels, such as ruthless and arrogant. While she certainly agreed with the arrogant part, he also appeared supremely confident.
Not surprisingly, numerous pictures of his wife had also popped up and she was as beautiful as Carlie remembered. Society shots showed her in elegant evening gowns and expensive gems, while others were of her in uniform. She’d been stunning, even in military fatigues. Erika Forrester would have intimidated most women, no matter how sound their egos might be...and Carlie’s ego wasn’t particularly sturdy after the way Derek had treated her.
She glanced at Annie and Beth. In her brief acquaintance with them, she’d noticed they almost seemed disconnected from their father. There were few of the unspoken signals that usually flowed between parent and child. If she’d seen them somewhere and didn’t know the family, she wouldn’t have thought they were related.
Was it grief?
Tessa and Uncle Liam had grown even closer when Aunt Meredith died, but Tessa had been an adult. The girls being twins might change things, too.
Carlie checked the clock on the wall. She needed to be out, circulating through the different areas to be sure how the various activities her staff had planned were going. “Annie, Beth, would you like to start by making paper chains?” she asked encouragingly. “We’re giving prizes for different designs.”
“Goody,” cried Beth, while Annie nodded.
Carlie led the twins outside, assuming Luke would follow. Poppy Gold was abuzz with activity in the early-morning light. Mother Nature was cooperating when it came to the skating rink and sledding hill. Other than the rain forecast for Monday or Tuesday, the weather was supposed to be dry and unseasonably cold, which was ideal.
“Some of the kids’ activities are in the concert hall today,” she explained to Luke as they climbed the steps of the hall.
Only after Annie and Beth had begun work did Luke say something. “Paper chains?” he asked with eyebrows raised.
“It’s a good holiday craft for young children.”
“I guess. I just haven’t seen anybody make them since I was a kid.”
Carlie cocked her head. “Not even your daughters?”
“No, we have professional decorators. Ordinarily they come on November 30th and do the house inside and out.”
A wry comment threatened to break through Carlie’s diplomacy, so she pursed her lips and went over to check on Annie.
* * *
LUKE FOCUSED ON his daughters as they sorted through containers of colorful paper strips. He appreciated Carlie’s restraint in not pointing out that he’d expected Poppy Gold to be decked out several days before when his own house would have been decorated.
Christmas music was playing, and despite the early hour, quite a few children were in the room, cheerfully making their chains. Lighted “pine” garland entwined with strings of silver beads and red velvet ribbons had been put up the day before. Each corner of the room had an enormous decorated tree, covered with twinkling lights and ornaments that fit the quaint, historic atmosphere.
He shifted uncomfortably. What had possessed him to come to California? He didn’t do quaint. He didn’t do charming. He didn’t do cute. Erika hadn’t, either.
Yet Beth and Annie seemed to enjoy that kind of thing, possibly because of their nanny. Dacia was from Kilrush in Ireland and he sometimes thought he caught the lilt of her accent reflected in his daughters’ voices. When he’d interviewed her for the position, Dacia had announced she didn’t hold with not telling young ones fairy tales, so they should expect her to share the old legends and myths with their girls.
Though Luke had appreciated Dacia’s forthright honesty, Erika hadn’t been as certain since she didn’t want her daughters becoming fanciful. Yet even as infants, Beth and Annie had responded to Dacia far better than the other applicants. In the end, that had counted for more than anything else.
Luke read through the two activities lists. There were carol-singing parties, craft workshops to make Christmas ornaments, holiday scavenger hunts, a nightly parade of lighted historic vehicles and much more.
With any luck, the girls would react well. Otherwise, there wasn’t any point to visiting Glimmer Creek in the first place.
His phone rang and he stepped into a quieter spot to answer. “Hey, Nicole. How are you feeling?”
“Much better. The doctor thinks I can fly Monday. What’s going on there?”
He glanced around the room. “Quite a few things. They call it Christmas kickoff day, which means the entire historic district is being decorated. They surround it with activities and serve hot drinks and snacks at different locations. Last night they even made a production out of starting the snowmaking machines. There were treats and singing. Very...traditional.”
“It sounds like fun,” Nicole said, sounding wistful.
“The girls seemed to enjoy themselves. At the moment they’re making paper chains.”
“How are they doing?”
“It’s hard to tell—with Annie at least. Right now she might be on the verge of tears,” Luke said, worried again. “The activities director is talking to her. By the way, the tutor I hired couldn’t come. I have an interview set up with a retired schoolteacher instead.”
* * *
BACK IN AUSTIN, Nicole pressed a finger to her forehead. She wasn’t great with children, but she certainly could have tutored her nieces. Why had Luke invited her to go with him to California if he didn’t want her to help out?
“Maybe I could do it,” she suggested.
“No, getting someone else will give you time to enjoy yourself. But be prepared. Glimmer Creek is even smaller than I thought. There isn’t much shopping or other services.”
“I don’t have a problem with small towns.”
“You’ve never spent much time in one, either,” Luke retorted. “By the way, they’re setting up an outdoor skating rink today, so bring your skates.”
That was nice to hear about, but Nicole didn’t know why she couldn’t spend a few hours each day going over Beth and Annie’s schoolwork. It might help them get closer. Yet there wasn’t any point arguing with Luke once he’d made up his mind. Maybe she should cancel her trip altogether, but if there was the smallest chance she could do something to help her brother or nieces, she wanted to try.
“Okay. Anything else I should pack?” she asked.
“You may need your ski clothes. They’re also offering a sledding hill when the weather is cold enough. I’ve arranged for skates and sleds to be sent by express courier.”
“Surely the facility has sleds to go with the hill.”
“Probably, but I’m more comfortable choosing ones I know are well constructed. We’ll donate them when we leave.”
“Beth and Annie might want to keep theirs.”
“I can always get new sleds if needed.”
Nicole hesitated. “What I meant is that they might prefer keeping their sleds for sentimental reasons. I realize you and, uh, that you aren’t sentimental yourself, but your daughters might be.” She’d almost said “you and Erika,” only to catch herself. She never knew whether to talk about her sister-in-law or keep her mouth shut.
While Nicole had been fond of Erika, her sister-in-law hadn’t been easy to know, probably because they’d had so little in common. Luke’s wife had grown up in a military household, moving whenever her father was reassigned. From earliest childhood, she’d wanted to follow the family tradition of serving in the military. She’d been brilliant, courageous and dynamic. But having a conversation with her had always stymied Nicole.
“I don’t see any point in being sentimental,” Luke retorted, dragging Nicole’s thoughts to the present.
“It isn’t a crime.”
“Are you trying to start something with me, sister dear?”
Nicole made a face. She wasn’t bold or outspoken and it was rare that she “started” something with anybody, even her brother. On the other hand, this was something she felt strongly about. “No, but I have to defend Beth and Annie’s right to be themselves. They aren’t your clones. They’re little girls.”
A long silence followed until she heard a heavy exhalation through the receiver. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing—trying to make my daughters be like me?”
“I don’t know, but please don’t throw those sleds out before talking to them.”
Nicole was actually more worried about Luke trying to make Beth and Annie into clones of Erika. She couldn’t be sure that was happening, but she also didn’t understand why her nieces were still struggling so desperately with their mother’s death. Fourteen months wasn’t long, but they were young and Erika had been stationed away from Austin for most of their lives. Sad to say, they couldn’t have known her that well.
“If you think it’s important, I’ll ask before I do anything,” Luke said. “I’ve sent the jet back to Austin, so it’s ready for you to fly out. Let the captain know what time you want to take off and he’ll notify the limousine service when to meet the plane.”
“Maybe I should fly commercial and rent a car.”
“Don’t be crazy. This is much more convenient.”
It was convenient, which was part of the problem. Letting her brother smooth the bumps in the road was very easy. Some people didn’t realize how generous he could be. Nicole knew all too well... She also figured she ought to weather more of those bumps without his help.
“I’ll be there soon, at any rate,” she murmured. “Give Beth and Annie my love.”
“Will do. Glad you’re feeling better.”
After saying goodbye, Nicole looked around her condominium. While it was attractive, she had to admit there wasn’t a whole lot of individuality except for the shelves of old movies in her spare room. There hadn’t been any point getting fond of belongings as a kid. Her parents’ roving lifestyle hadn’t lent itself to saving stuffed animals and dolls or other childhood mementos.
Nonetheless, she was a closet sentimentalist. She adored lemon drops because they reminded her of summer. Daffodils were also special. Her father had given her a bouquet of sixteen perfectly made sugar daffodil blossoms for her Sweet Sixteen birthday party. They’d been so pretty she couldn’t bear to eat them, though it hadn’t taken long before they’d crumbled into piles of yellow and green sugar.
Luke hadn’t been kidding about his own lack of sentimentality. He loved his family, but Nicole doubted he’d kept private mementos of Erika, such as receipts from restaurants they’d visited or his boutonniere from the wedding. He and Erika had been alike in that way—too practical to invest emotional value in an inanimate object. After returning from her honeymoon, Erika had even donated her wedding gown to be used by military brides.
Nicole, on the other hand, had carefully dried the roses from her maid of honor bouquet and hung her dress in a protective garment bag in the back of her spare closet. She’d done it reasoning that Luke and her sister-in-law might have children someday who’d want a few keepsakes.
But no matter what she’d told herself, the truth was that the dress and dried flowers were reminders of a day when her brother had looked perfectly happy for the first time in his life.
* * *
CARLIE MANAGED TO slip away from the concert hall fairly soon, though not before she’d seen how differently Annie and Beth each approached making their paper chains.
Beth’s were wild, gaudy with glitter, made with any color that took her fancy. Annie’s color choices were green, red and white in a creative arrangement that included larger and smaller rings. Her sister had pestered her, declaring it needed more color and glitter, so Annie had begun carefully applying a dot of silver glitter to each ring, probably to stop her sister’s nagging.
But she hadn’t looked happy.
Around Poppy Gold, groups of Victorian-garbed carolers were out in force, singing carols such as “Good King Wenceslas” and “Jingle Bells.” It added a lovely mood to the day, spiced by the fragrance of hot cider and other tasty snacks at the treat kiosks.
Poppy Gold didn’t need guests to actually do the decorating, which meant they were all free to enjoy the benefits of kickoff day. Everyone would also receive one of the specialty gift ornaments, which were being placed in their suites.
“Carlie, I need to check with you about something,” called a voice.
She turned and smiled at Gideon Cartwright, the new veterinarian in Glimmer Creek. He’d volunteered to coordinate the farm animals and help set up the living nativity scene they were having every Friday and Saturday night until Christmas. It would be staged in front of the small white church that served as Poppy Gold’s travelers’ chapel.
“What can I do for you, Gideon?”
“I just got a call. Thaddeus Baxter won’t be able to bring his sheep tonight—he’s got pneumonia. I’m going to see if any of my other clients have sheep they’re willing to loan for the evening.”
Carlie was instantly concerned. They’d lost Aunt Meredith from pneumonia. “I hope Thad will be okay.”
“It’s just a mild case and his wife tells me this has convinced him to get the pneumonia vaccine,” Gideon assured her quickly. “But I’m not sure how long it will take to make the calls to other livestock owners in the area and I’m supposed to start my health exams of the VC cats at 10:00 a.m. I haven’t been able to locate either Liam or Tessa to let them know I’ll be late.”
Traditionally Dr. Chevalier had come to the Victorian Cat to give the resident felines their quarterly health checkups, but he’d retired earlier that year. When Gideon had bought the practice, he’d continued the custom, saying it was easier for everybody to spend a morning at the VC examining the cats one after another than to do it at the clinic.
“I’ll tell them,” Carlie promised. “Another Saturday might be better, in any case. The cats must be stirred up with everything going on here.”
Gideon looked rueful. “Probably. I hadn’t realized kickoff day was such a big deal. I’ll do my best to find another pair of sheep for tonight.”
“I appreciate it.”
The living nativity was Carlie’s brainchild. It was the first time they’d had one at Poppy Gold, but she figured everyone would enjoy the event. Even if Gideon couldn’t locate replacement sheep, it would be a nice tableau.
* * *
GIDEON WALKED QUICKLY toward the Poppy Gold parking lot where he’d left his car. He was thoroughly enjoying his move to Glimmer Creek, though after eight years of veterinary practice in Beverly Hills, he’d had to reacquaint himself with horses, cows and sheep. Not to mention llamas, pigs and a small, cantankerous herd of buffalo.
Yet even as pleasure went through him, his mouth compressed. He’d never wanted to live in the city, but had made an agreement with his wife. After qualifying, he would go to work at her father’s exclusive Beverly Hills veterinary clinic for eight years. Then, if he still wanted to be a small-town vet, they’d pack up and move. But when the time came, Renee had flatly refused. Apparently she’d made the agreement never thinking she’d have to keep it, figuring nobody would choose to live anywhere else once they’d had a taste of Los Angeles.
In the end, Gideon realized they’d grown so far apart they really didn’t have a marriage to save.
Back at the office he unlocked the computer and did a search for clients with sheep. Dr. Chevalier had disdained computers, keeping detailed paper records instead. One of the huge jobs still ahead was getting those files entered into the system, but at least Gideon’s office manager had finally gotten the basic data input done on all their current clients. It would have to do for now.
He’d hate to disappoint Carlie. Her enthusiasm about the living nativity was refreshing.
Gideon made a couple of calls and found a teenager involved in the 4-H club who was thrilled to have her two sheep in the living nativity.
He’d just hung up the phone when a handful of mail was dropped through the slot on the door. He sorted through the envelopes until he reached one from Los Angeles.
Inside was his final divorce decree.
CHAPTER FOUR (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
LUKE WAS CONCERNED how the girls would react to the paper-chain-making contest, but since every kid won a prize—for one reason or another—it turned out all right. Beth was triumphant over getting “most colorful,” while Annie appeared quietly pleased with “prettiest use of traditional Christmas colors.”
Every award was “the best” or “the most” or another superlative, and he wondered how long it had taken Carlie or her staff to come up with enough prizes to be sure each child received an accolade of some type.
Once the ceremonies had been completed, the paper-chain-making supplies were moved to a single table and other crafts were set out.
“Look, Carlie is back,” Annie cried and ran across the room, followed by her sister.
Luke watched, wishing his daughters would greet him with that much enthusiasm. They immediately grabbed the activities director by the hand and dragged her to where he sat with a cup of coffee.
Carlie’s cheeks were pink from the cold air outside and he had to admit she was pretty with her blue eyes and long, golden-brown hair. Wholesome. Like a character from a Christmas film where true love triumphs. It wasn’t any wonder the twins gravitated toward her, though Annie’s instant attachment was unusual.
“What are you doing now?” Carlie asked the girls.
“I want to make origami birds,” Annie said, pronouncing the new word with care. She pointed to a table where a woman was demonstrating how to fold paper into different shapes.
“No. That’s dumb,” Beth declared. “Let’s go see how much snow there is.”
Carlie looked at him. “Maybe Annie could learn to do origami while the two of you go out to the sledding hill. There are volunteers here to watch the children.”
Luke hesitated. While marginally quieter now, the room was still busy with kids and adults coming and going. He couldn’t see letting Annie stay by herself, even if someone was specifically assigned to watch her. “Maybe another time. I saw on the schedule that Poppy Gold has another holiday craft workshop next Saturday.”
“Yippee,” Beth cried.
Annie was still hanging on to Carlie’s arm, and Carlie was talking to her in a soft voice. He only caught a few words. “Only if you go, too,” Annie said finally. “But I don’t want to squish my chain.” She held up the gift bag the children had been given to carry their paper chains and other belongings.
“You can put it in my office and come back for it later,” Carlie offered.
“Let’s just go,” Beth implored, hopping impatiently from one foot to the other.
Carlie smiled at her. “It won’t take long and this way you don’t have to carry your bag around.”
“Oookaaay.”
As they stepped outside, Luke asked why the building used for Guest Reception had the words City Hall impressed above the main doors. Was it to add to the village atmosphere?
“It was Glimmer Creek’s original city hall,” Carlie explained when he asked. “James Connor purchased the town’s historic district during the Great Depression, including all the civic structures except the Carnegie library.”
“Sounds like the Connors are one of the early robber-baron families of California.”
Carlie looked annoyed. “Actually, James Connor paid top dollar, donated a boatload of money to the town and allowed residents to live in their homes rent-free for five years. He didn’t buy the property for profit. He did it to preserve history and help Glimmer Creek get through the Depression. Personally, I don’t think the town was properly grateful—they called it Connor’s Folly for decades.”
“Oh.”
“Why did you assume he was out for himself?” she asked.
Luke made a noncommittal gesture, though he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t questioned people’s motives. Growing up, he’d seen too many people taking advantage of others, his parents included. It had made him determined to make a different life and to take care of his sister. Nicole kept saying she needed to take care of herself, but that was nonsense. She was independent. While he’d paid for her college expenses and given her a job, she worked hard and was a terrific computer specialist, in her own right. Nobody could accuse her of being a freeloader.
* * *
CARLIE UNLOCKED HER private office. It was quiet in this part of the building; on such a busy day all available staff members were out, handling various responsibilities.
“Just put your bags on my desk,” she told the twins, who’d gone instantly to look at the decorated tree in the corner, seeming to forget everything else.
The branches were adorned with white lights, delicate crystal icicles and the wild-animal ornaments she’d collected since she was a little girl. Raccoons, squirrels, mountain lions, rabbits, foxes, birds of every variety, mice, deer and other animals adorned the branches and she loved them all. They sat on beds of “snow” as if in their mountain home.
“It’s the bestest tree ever,” Annie said solemnly.
Beth nodded, but Carlie suspected she normally preferred something flashier. That was okay. Sometimes Carlie enjoyed flashy, too, though they tried to keep the decorations at Poppy Gold restrained.
Perhaps the girls would like to have a Christmas tree in their bedroom. Actually, two trees. They could do the decorating and make them as individual as they liked. She scribbled a note and put it on her computer monitor, not wanting to mention it to Luke until she’d collected a selection of ornaments that reflected both Annie’s and Beth’s apparent tastes.
It wasn’t in her job description, of course, which was mostly to entertain the guests. Decorating wasn’t an “activity” like scavenger hunts and hayride parties, but Tessa gave her a lot of leeway. If Carlie saw a way to enhance a guest’s visit, she could act on it without getting permission.
“These must be your parents,” Luke said, looking at a framed photo on the wall, taken shortly before her father’s accident. In it, he was hale and hearty, and looked half the age he did now.
“Yes. Shall we go to the sledding hill?” Carlie prompted.
“Sure.”
When they arrived, she was pleased to see the snowmaking machines were still running and the guys in parkas and heavy gloves were out grooming the slope. A line of kids, both young and old, were queuing at the top in anticipation. There were so many, in fact, that Carlie excused herself to go talk with her uncle about creating a separate snow field for making snowmen.
“Splendid idea,” Uncle Liam said enthusiastically. “We’ve got more than enough snow for sledding today. The water hoses are long enough. We’ll just move the snowmakers over to the open area and hope it stays cold enough for a couple of hours.”
The snowmakers were shifted and Carlie called to see if the local grocery store could deliver a rush order of carrots, prunes and other environmentally friendly items for the snowmen’s features. They promised her everything would be there within twenty minutes.
Before long, the overflow of sledding enthusiasts were making snowmen and women, including Beth and Annie.
“This is what I meant by spontaneous,” Carlie told Luke as she brushed snow from her hair after a trek through the wide circle of snowmakers. While she was trying to sound innocent, a part of her was smug that he’d been present for one of the impromptu events. “Why don’t you help Beth and Annie build their snow person?”
“They probably want to do it alone.”
“Why wouldn’t they want their father to help?”
A mix of emotions flitted across his face. “No reason, I suppose.”
* * *
LUKE APPROACHED HIS DAUGHTERS. It was difficult to acknowledge, even to himself, but he didn’t know if they wanted him around. They were unusually self-sufficient for their age. The evening before he’d asked if they needed help getting ready for bed or for him to read a story, but they’d refused. And that morning they were already dressed and playing a game by the time he came out of his bedroom.
Snow was still shooting out from the machines and the girls were enjoying the artificial blizzard. Annie kept putting her head back and letting the flakes settle on her closed eyelids, while Beth danced around, trying to catch them in her mittens.
The thought flitted through his head that he could have tried renting a ski lodge in Tahoe or somewhere else for the holidays, but he shook it away. They were at Poppy Gold, and though the place wasn’t what he’d expected, it could work out. With that thought, he glanced at Carlie, who was setting out piles of fruits and vegetables for everyone to use creating the snow people’s features. Surely she would become less important to the girls once Nicole arrived.
“Sorry, everyone,” an older man called from the opposite side after another hour. He was the same man who’d signaled for the snowmaking machines to be turned on the night before. “The temperature is starting to rise. We have to shut everything down.”
Almost immediately, silence descended, followed by good-natured groans. Beth stuck out her lip in an undeniable pout and even Annie seemed a bit sulky.
“Okay, let’s build that snowman,” Luke said to them, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t made one since I was your age.”
He began gathering snow into a mound when Beth fixed him with a stern gaze that reminded him of Erika. “Papa, you have to roll it around. See?” She and Annie demonstrated, rolling a small ball of snow around the white ground. It picked up layers, slowly becoming larger.
“And we’re building a snow girl, not a snowman,” Annie added.
“Oh.” He hid a smile. “I’m glad you told me.”
* * *
BEFORE GIDEON RETURNED to Poppy Gold, he took the divorce decree upstairs to his apartment, glad it had come on a Saturday when the office was closed. Until things settled down more, he was living in one of the two apartments above the clinic. He’d finally gotten a post office box for his personal mail, but he must have forgotten to update his address with the court and his lawyer in Los Angeles.
Intentionally?
He considered the possibility and then shook his head. The divorce bothered him, but it was for the best. He and his ex-wife had never valued the same things and it was hard to base a marriage on such a poor foundation. In their last argument, Renee had even snapped that she’d done her best, but he was still a clod-hopping Nebraska farm boy who didn’t deserve her.
They were just too different. Once she’d thought it was charming that he’d grown up on a farm, while he’d been proud of her stylish sophistication. Now he saw women in designer clothes and wanted to run the opposite direction.
Gideon tossed the paperwork in a drawer.
At least Renee’s parting retort had reminded him that he was proud of who he was and where he’d come from. The only reason he hadn’t returned to Nebraska after Beverly Hills was because of the long winters. Going away to college hadn’t been about changing into a different kind of person. It had been about learning to be the best vet he could be.
Now that his foster parents had sold their farm, he was trying to convince them to move to Glimmer Creek. Helga had asthma and Gideon hoped she’d do better in a milder climate. At the very least he wanted them to come out for a few months to see if they liked it here. That was one of the reasons he’d started looking for a house. Lars and Helga hesitated to accept anything from him, but he might be able to convince them to stay in the apartment above the clinic if it was empty.
* * *
NICOLE PUT HER skates with the other luggage in the foyer of her condominium. Her restlessness and uncertainty had increased after talking to Luke. Granted, he and the twins had only been in California for a day, but she hadn’t liked hearing Annie was tearful in the midst of all the holiday cheer.
Belatedly she remembered she hadn’t packed her digital camera and got even more depressed. Wouldn’t a proper aunt have thought of that first?
She padded up to the spare room and collected her camera and charger, along with a handful of new SD cards, trying to think if there was anything else she might need. From Luke’s description of Glimmer Creek, it might be difficult to get some items and she didn’t want him making an extravagant gesture to get her lip gloss or something.
Laundry soap, Nicole thought. She used an organic, unscented variety. It raised the question of whether there were any laundry facilities at Poppy Gold Inns, or would they need to use a community Laundromat?
She looked up the phone number and called California.
“Poppy Gold Inns. Can I help you?” a man’s friendly voice said.
“I hate to be a bother,” Nicole apologized, “but I’m flying out Monday to stay for a few weeks. I’m meeting my brother and his family, who have already arrived. I wanted to find out if you have any laundry facilities or what other plans I should make. Oh, and is there a dry cleaner in town?”
“There’s a dry cleaner that will pick up and deliver. We also have laundry facilities on-site and a limited number of suites have them, as well. May I ask your name?”
“Sorry—Nicole Forrester.”
“Er, right. Mr. Forrester mentioned your arrival had been delayed. The suite where you’re staying includes a full utility room with a frontload washer and dryer. There’s also a nicely equipped kitchen.”
It was probably her imagination, but something in the man’s tone made Nicole wonder if Luke had made a nuisance of himself. She was the first to admit her brother wasn’t always the most sensitive guy and he liked having things his way.
“I don’t cook, but that sounds wonderful,” she replied brightly. “And I’m sure there are restaurants in town.”
“Yes. A hot breakfast is also delivered each morning from a local caterer. The food is freshly prepared, with a different central dish every day.”
Nicole had stayed at bed-and-breakfast inns where breakfast was little more than Danish and coffee, so she’d wait and see what Poppy Gold actually provided. In the meantime, the tension in the polite conversation was uncomfortable.
“I don’t want to take any more of your time,” she said. “But thank you for the information.”
“Of course, Ms. Forrester. Have a safe trip. Happy holidays.”
“Happy holidays to you, too.” She gratefully hung up the phone.
Anyhow, her questions had been answered, so Nicole packed a supply of laundry soap. She turned around, looking for something else to do, and her gaze lit on the space in front of the window. She’d always put a Christmas tree there the day after Thanksgiving and now she thought the condo was lonely without it.
Even knowing she was being silly, she took her tree out from the storage area under the stairs and assembled it, stringing lights and hanging ornaments. At least she could enjoy the cheerful lights and tinsel until she left.
* * *
THE BEST VANTAGE point for the official “lighting” of Poppy Gold was at the city square park. Carlie had noted the information on the activities sheet for everyone, though most of the regulars already knew. The townspeople of Glimmer Creek knew, as well, and were all welcome to participate.
Of course, not everything was controlled by the master switches. The electric candles in the windows operated by sensors, so they’d turned on when the sun set. The same was true of the lights on the wreaths and assorted other decorations. But lights on the houses, trees and buses would go on when the switches were thrown.
Between the singing and eating and general bonhomie, the park resembled a block party. People were tired and it had been a long day, but the payoff was at 6:00 p.m. when Poppy Gold would go “live” for Christmas.
“Is it soon, Carlie?” asked Beth, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. She looked bright and lively, probably because she and her sister had taken naps that afternoon. Luke had insisted over their protests, saying they needed rest to enjoy the evening events.
Carlie checked her cell phone. “Twenty-five more minutes.
“Did you know your new tutor taught me in first grade?” she asked Beth, hoping to distract her. While the girls were napping, Luke had interviewed Luisa Cabrera and hired her as their tutor.
“Honest?”
“Honest. Mrs. Cabrera was one of my favorite teachers.”
From what Carlie could see of Beth’s expression, she seemed content with the comment, while Annie was harder to read. But they were obviously accustomed to employees in their lives. Their artless chatter throughout the day had included numerous references to their nanny and assorted other household staff.
Erika Forrester hadn’t been mentioned, though that wasn’t necessarily strange since according to what Tessa had said, they were still having trouble dealing with their mother’s death. Carlie hadn’t lost a parent, but she’d come close when her dad was injured. She didn’t know how she would have handled losing him and she was much older than the twins.
“Um, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, her stomach rumbling. She walked over to one of the treat kiosks.
“Hey, Sarah,” she said, seeing her cousin put out a fresh platter of cookies. “You look bushed.”
Sarah chuckled. “That’s the catering business. Sixteen-hour days and never enough sleep.”
“I’m glad it isn’t me—I’m devoted to sleep.” Carlie grabbed an empty cup and stuffed it full of apple wedges and cheese.
“Hey, you’re still here, too,” Sarah pointed out. “And I’m guessing you haven’t eaten all day.”
Carlie grinned. “I had a bagel this morning.” She crunched down a bite of apple, followed by a cheese cube. “Besides, my job is to help people have fun. What could be better than that? Today I was just too busy enjoying myself to eat.”
“We can’t have you passing out from hunger or dehydration.” Sarah held out a cup of warm cider.
Carlie glanced toward the Forresters as she drank thirstily. It wasn’t unusual for certain guests to gobble up a lot of time. Tessa liked the personal touch at Poppy Gold and had given her a staff, so if some guests were more demanding, the others weren’t neglected. Of course, they’d never had a guest stay for six weeks, either.
But Luke had mentioned his sister would be arriving Monday, which meant Annie and Beth should be better occupied. It was just as well. The twins were sweet, but surely they needed family, not a stranger.
After gulping the rest of her apple slices and cheese, Carlie circulated through the crowd of people, chatting and offering reminders about the living nativity that was starting in another forty-five minutes. But she quickly held up her hand when the reporter-photographer from the Glimmer Creek Gazette raised his camera.
“Please, Perry, I don’t want to be in the newspaper. Surely you’d prefer a photo of Uncle Liam or Tessa.”
“I didn’t say anything about putting it in the Gazette.” He winked and took a quick shot. “You were always my dream girl. If I can’t have you, at least I can put your picture under my pillow.”
Carlie laughed. They’d gone to high school together and had even dated as juniors, but she’d never been his dream girl; Perry Fisher enjoyed playing the field too much. Still, he was a fun guy and a volunteer fireman with a reputation for going beyond the call.
“Keep talking, Perry. You’re good for my ego.”
“Does that mean you’ll finally go out with me? How many times have I asked since you came back to Glimmer Creek?”
“I’m just so busy,” she said, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “You know, with everything...”
Perry’s face sobered. “I know. We miss Mike down at the fire department. How is he?”
“About the same.” Her dad had been forced to resign as a volunteer firefighter after his accident. “Why don’t you take pictures of the carolers in their costumes for your article?” she suggested, eager to change the subject. “I’d also love a plug for the living nativity. Remember, every Friday and Saturday night until Christmas, six thirty to nine.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
A few minutes later, she circled around to Annie and Beth and smiled at them. “We’re getting close.”
“I don’t think they believe you,” Luke murmured.
“When you’re six, minutes can seem like hours. By the way, I want to ask you something later.”
He instantly looked suspicious. “I don’t do interviews and the girls are off-limits at all times.”
Carlie blinked, confused. “What makes you think I’d want you to do an interview?”
* * *
LUKE WAS ANNOYED that he’d said the first thing to pop into his mind. “I’ve been watching that photographer, the one with the press badge, and saw you talking to him.”
Carlie’s lips tightened. “I asked him to do extra promotion for the living nativity. It’s a new event and I want it to be a success. An interview was my last thought. For your information, Poppy Gold frequently has high-profile guests. We have an agreement with the Gazette and local radio station to leave them alone. Perry is taking pictures and writing a story about kickoff day. That’s all.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve had much more interesting people stay at Poppy Gold, by the way. I don’t think you need to worry.”
From her flashing eyes, Luke suspected Carlie would have loved to tell him off, but was constrained by her position working for the bed-and-breakfast complex. Not that she’d done a bad job of knocking his ego down a peg with her polite comment about “much more interesting” people staying at Poppy Gold. Luke didn’t mind; honesty was a quality he valued as much as his privacy.
“We’re starting, everyone,” a voice called above the carol singing, which quieted instantly.
A count started in the crowd, reminiscent of Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“Five, four, three, two...”
As the final number rang out, the rooflines, windows and doors of the Victorians were suddenly outlined with strings of lights. The trees lit up a moment later, along with bushes and the poles of lampposts that looked like they were converted gaslights.
Beth and Annie squealed with excitement and clapped their hands. Carlie Benton’s face reflected their blissful pleasure, and even Luke, who wasn’t big on showy displays, thought it was attractive.
Christmas had arrived with a splash at Poppy Gold.
CHAPTER FIVE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
EARLY TUESDAY MORNING, Nicole got dressed and walked quietly down the stairs of the Yosemite suite. She hadn’t gotten much chance to explore the suite after arriving the previous afternoon and wanted to indulge her curiosity.
She’d taken an architectural history class in college and particularly loved homes from the Victorian period.
From the little Luke had said, she’d expected a pokey set of rooms carved out of the servants’ quarters of an old house. It was nothing of the kind. Everything was lovely. The rooms were spacious—not the size of Luke’s home in Austin, but very nice—with great architectural details. The overall feel was gracious comfort.
Nicole looked out the windows and took in the garden and hillsides beyond. It seemed fitting that the John Muir Cottage was on the edge of town since it was a huge, old Victorian farmhouse.
A faint smile curved her mouth as she thought about the families that must have lived there, expanding the building to accommodate new generations of married children and grandchildren. She hadn’t resented their nomadic childhood the way Luke had, but having a real home with roots was immensely appealing.
Curiously she looked around the kitchen. It was nicer than the one in her condo, but since she didn’t cook, she hadn’t looked for a place with a showcase kitchen and appliances. The real-estate agent had objected, talking about resale value, but Nicole wasn’t worried about that. The condo met her needs and she didn’t expect to get married or sell anytime soon. Dating tended to be casual since she’d discovered that some men felt her connection to Luke Forrester was her biggest appeal.
With the ease of long practice, she pushed the thought from her head. She couldn’t regret being Luke’s sister, but it brought challenges.
A tap sounded on the front door and she remembered Luke mentioning that the catering service delivered breakfast between seven and eight in the morning. She peeked out to be sure it was them and opened the door.
“Hi,” said the woman carrying two insulated containers. “I’m from Sarah’s Sweet Treats Catering Service. I’m a couple minutes early, but I saw the light turn on in the kitchen. May I come in?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Nicole stepped back and the catering employee walked briskly inside. “I’m Nicole Forrester. You’ve probably met my brother and nieces.”
“Yes—cute kids. Did you get in yesterday?”
“Midafternoon.”
“Welcome to Poppy Gold. I’m Mariko Kirahara.” Mariko put the insulated containers on the counter. “Cold items are in the bag with the blue tag and hot in the other. Instructions are on the labels.”
“Don’t you need to take them with you?”
“Nope.” Mariko opened a cupboard door and removed identical bags. “These are from yesterday. The housekeeping staff puts them here for us. Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
Mariko left quickly, probably because she had other food to deliver. Poppy Gold was huge and must provide accommodations for hundreds of guests each day.
After Nicole had arrived the previous day, Luke and the girls had shown her around the Victorian village. The sledding hill and skating rink were huge attractions, along with the lighted historic vehicle parade that occurred each evening.
But Beth and Annie’s greatest excitement had been introducing her to Carlie Benton, the Poppy Gold activities director. Carlie seemed to have instantly inspired pure adoration from the twins.
Nicole sighed and investigated the coffeemaker. It was similar to the one she used at home, so she quickly filled the filter with coffee and poured water into the reservoir. Soon a rich fragrance filled the air.
Mmm. Making coffee was one of the few domestic skills she possessed. When she and Luke had talked late Saturday evening, he’d mentioned that Poppy Gold Inns had their own special blend. His description of “remarkably flavorful” had made her look forward to a taste. Her brother didn’t bestow praise lightly.
There were unopened containers of cream in the fridge and Nicole made her cup rich and sweet. But before she could take a sip, Luke appeared at the kitchen door.
“Did I wake you up?” she asked.
“It wasn’t you. I haven’t slept much since...well, for over a year.” He rubbed his face.
Nicole poured him a cup of coffee and sat in the picturesque breakfast nook, unsure how to respond. His reluctance to say Erika’s name was the reason everyone else danced around it, as well.
Understanding Luke seemed impossible. Maybe part of the problem was the age and experience gap. She was thirty; he was nine years older. By the time she’d started college he was already wealthy and successful. She hadn’t married, while he was a widower with two children. He was fearless; she was practically scared of her own shadow.
Still, even as a child, Luke had kept a piece of himself separate, watchful, as if holding off the world. Perhaps it was because she’d always had him to depend upon, while he’d only had himself. Nicole didn’t count their parents as reliable support; as Luke said often, Craig and Heather had a long way to go before they became responsible adults.
Luke sat down and stared into the steam rising from his cup.
“How late were you up?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I was working. Three or four, probably. Tilly didn’t want to send anything for me to look at, but I insisted.”
Nicole pressed her lips together. Tilly Robinson was probably the only person in the world who would challenge Luke. Sometimes she won, sometimes she didn’t. Nicole envied her, and at the same time was frustrated that somebody else could be closer to Luke than his own family.
“Surely your business interests could survive a few weeks without your spending so much time on them,” she suggested carefully.
“If I can’t sleep, I might as well work,” Luke murmured, still looking only half-awake. “Oh, the tutor started yesterday. She’s coming weekday mornings at eight thirty to work with the girls for a few hours and will stay if we’re out for some reason. Beth and Annie are playing in their room. I’ll call them down for breakfast.”
Wanting to be useful, Nicole set the table and then unpacked the two insulated bags. The food smelled delicious. Everything was out on the table when Beth and Annie appeared and sat quietly. In a sad way it reminded Nicole of her own childhood, when they’d stayed with other families and were expected to be invisible. Luke had rebelled, but she’d learned the lesson all too well.
“Would you like orange juice?” she asked.
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Julianna Morris
All he wants for Christmas…Widower Luke Forrester’s fortune can’t buy happiness, but he’s counting on it to give his twin daughters the magical Christmas they deserve at Poppy Gold Inns. Activities director Carlie Benton, with her upbeat seasonal spirit, definitely isn’t impressed by money. She’s all about holiday cheer and he can’t resist.While Luke and Carlie try to restore the sparkle in his kids’ eyes, the heat between them melts the winter chill. And in the season of miracles, anything is possible—including a tempting second chance at love.
All he wants for Christmas...
Widower Luke Forrester’s fortune can’t buy happiness, but he’s counting on it to give his twin daughters the magical Christmas they deserve at Poppy Gold Inns. Activities director Carlie Benton, with her upbeat seasonal spirit, definitely isn’t impressed by money. She’s all about holiday cheer and he can’t resist.
While Luke and Carlie try to restore the sparkle in his kids’ eyes, the heat between them melts the winter chill. And in the season of miracles, anything is possible—including a tempting second chance at love.
Luke released a harsh breath as he watched Carlie walk away.
While he’d already noticed she was attractive, this time her appeal was striking a primal chord.
There was nothing indifferent about Carlie; she was passionate, vital and far more beautiful than he’d recognized at first. She reminded him of being in the desert after a spring thunderstorm, where everything had been dry and desolate, only to awaken with a roar after a dose of life-giving rain.
A wry smile curved Luke’s mouth—flash floods through an arroyo weren’t uncommon after a spring storm, either, and they could be lethal. Besides, he wasn’t a desert—he was a man who’d lost his wife.
The last thing he needed was to get fanciful about someone like Carlie.
Dear Reader (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7),
Christmas is a cherished time of the year and I love writing stories based around the holiday. In Christmas with Carlie I indulged in creating a setting filled with evergreen swags and twinkling lights, along with the scent of baking cookies and wassail.
For my first three stories placed around Poppy Gold Inns—my imaginary bed-and-breakfast complex—I wanted to include a military theme to honor the men and women who serve their country. And it occurred to me that a wealthy hero, who’d lost his wife in the army, would be interesting to explore. Luke Forrester has two small girls who are struggling to understand why Mommy never came home. In helping them, he discovers love again with a special woman who creates her own place in his heart.
Classic Movie Alert: There’s a wonderful 1988 TV movie called I’ll Be Home For Christmas starring a host of talented actors, including Hal Holbrook, Peter Gallagher and Eva Marie Saint. The title is shared with multiple holiday films, but this one is set in the last days of WWII. I haven’t had luck getting this on DVD yet, but I keep hoping!
I enjoy hearing from readers and can be contacted c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, ON M3B 3K9, Canada.
Julianna Morris
Christmas with Carlie
Julianna Morris
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Some of JULIANNA MORRIS’s most cherished childhood memories are of sitting by the fire and listening to Christmas music as she crafted gifts for her family. Since then Julianna has experienced Christmas in many different parts of the United States. Traditions vary, but she finds the spirit of the season wherever she travels. Perhaps one of her most unique memories is Christmas Eve in Albuquerque, New Mexico—spent, of all places, in the old cemetery, where people light luminarias to remember family and friends. She’ll never forget the warmth and love found in the flickering glow of thousands of candles.
To all the men and women who serve their country. May you find peace.
Contents
Cover (#ud6eece76-c4c5-53e2-82e5-6873372bdedc)
Back Cover Text (#u738de644-3e1c-52b9-a022-0274a1c8920a)
Introduction (#u2f28361d-711c-5f97-96f1-b25def55aee2)
Dear Reader (#u982993b9-9211-5cb7-98c3-9197f3f950b7)
Title Page (#uff81a3fc-29c2-5173-bdd4-8b79cc87d399)
About the Author (#uba2b0634-e3ff-5753-9e51-cf0016e34636)
Dedication (#u02ad4bd7-be71-549c-bb03-619a41152943)
PROLOGUE (#ud16658bd-9f7c-59c8-9d11-5eb1b325135b)
CHAPTER ONE (#u005fc357-cdfe-5df2-9f47-e9cf931727c3)
CHAPTER TWO (#ufae52b37-6caf-52d1-b8f4-1753a0da212a)
CHAPTER THREE (#u846c401e-d194-5996-9d3f-ce81016e582a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u93a328f8-3358-5755-9d31-3fe60eea045a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u99b185a8-a80c-59a5-bcb8-f16fe1a5b3f0)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
“MR. FORRESTER?”
Luke jerked, realizing he’d been staring into space, thinking about Erika again.
“Yes, Tilly?” he asked, shaking his head to clear it.
“I’ve made all the holiday arrangements you requested, but I wish you’d reconsider.”
Her face was tense and she only called him Mr. Forrester when she was annoyed. Tilly Robinson had been with him since soon after he’d started his business and often acted more like a mother hen than an executive assistant. Most recently she had been encouraging him to take his daughters away for Christmas. Maybe she was right. Beth and Annie were hurting over their mother’s death and no words seemed to comfort them.
Hell, he didn’t understand.
He’d never expected to fall in love with a soldier, but he hadn’t been able to ask Erika to give up something she’d believed in, even after their twin daughters were born. Her father and grandfather had served in the army and she’d prepared her whole life to follow in their footsteps. The night he’d proposed, Erika had reminded him that it couldn’t always be someone else’s husband or wife or daughter who served.
The sound of a throat clearing made Luke realize his thoughts had drifted yet again. He looked into Tilly’s determined eyes. “Why are you so sure that going away is the right idea? Even the grief therapists I’ve consulted can’t agree.”
“I’m not sure, but hanging around Austin hasn’t done you much good,” she replied bluntly. “How long has it been since you got a full night’s sleep?”
Longer than he could remember.
If he slept, he dreamed about his wife, especially their last vacation. The twins had been five and Erika had managed to get leave from her unit in the Middle East. She’d met them in Italy. They’d spent two weeks with the girls, exploring Tuscany. Three months later, an army notification team had shown up, regretfully informing him that his wife had died in the line of duty.
Telling Annie and Beth had been the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. The look on their faces had haunted him ever since. It was as if they’d retreated into themselves and he didn’t know how to bring them back.
“I’ve never slept that much, Tilly, you know that. And it’s Beth and Annie that matter.” Luke tossed his pen onto the desk. “Do you have a place in mind for your great plan?”
“I’m sure we can come up with something.”
His first thought was the large villa he’d rented for the family in Tuscany. The twins had enjoyed the indoor pool and the villa had come fully staffed. He shook his head. What was he thinking? Italy was the last place they’d seen Erika. It would simply remind them that she wasn’t there.
“Maybe the Caribbean,” he mused.
“Absolutely not,” Tilly told him sharply. “That’s where you went that time Erika’s leave was revoked. And don’t suggest the French château you went to three years ago, either. You should go somewhere completely new. Take a look at this.” She slapped a paper down on his desk.
It was a printout from the website of a place called Poppy Gold Inns on the West Coast.
“California?”
Tilly’s eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with California. As a matter of fact, General Pierson’s aide recommended Poppy Gold the last time we spoke. I’m sure I can clear your appointment and meeting schedule for the next month.”
“A month?” he repeated. “How did we go from getting out of town for Christmas to a whole month?”
“It has to be long enough to do some good. Better yet, stay a week or two into the New Year. They have a fully equipped business center, so you’d be able to handle anything urgent that comes up.”
“Let me take a look.”
Luke turned to his computer and pulled up the website for Poppy Gold Inns, where the holidays—both Thanksgiving and Christmas—were the main theme. According to the description, the entire historic district of a town in the California Gold Country had been converted to a group of bed-and-breakfast inns. In the pictures, Poppy Gold Inns was a quaint Victorian village, decorated to the nines with holly, evergreen and red velvet bows.
“I don’t see any snow,” he said, “so it obviously wouldn’t be a white Christmas.”
Tilly snorted. “When was the last time we had a white Christmas in Austin, Texas? Down here, it’s Santa Claus in a cowboy hat, driving a stagecoach. Stop procrastinating. I’ve checked and one of the houses is available.”
“You’ve already checked? Let me guess—you’ve already reserved it, too.”
“Of course. I didn’t want anyone else to take it while you were dragging your feet. It needed a referral from General Pierson’s office, so the clock was ticking.”
Luke’s jaw tightened. Maybe a change would be best for the girls.
For him, too.
“All right, clear my calendar from the last week of November through the first week of January,” he told her. “We’ll take the jet and leave the day after Thanksgiving.”
Tilly pursed her lips. “What about your parents? They planned to be in Austin until the twenty-fifth.”
Luke loved his mother and father, but they could be something of a trial. Craig and Heather Forrester both had generous trust funds, but when he was a kid, they’d always spent their annual allowance within nine or ten months. He’d hated the way they lived off their wealthier friends the rest of the year. Luke’s grandparents on both sides had given up on them before his sister, Nicole, was born, being people who heartily disapproved of a frivolous lifestyle. He barely remembered them.
“Get my parents invited to an embassy dinner in Washington. They’ll regretfully call off their trip to Austin.”
Craig and Heather’s latest goal was getting appointed to a diplomatic post. They were effortlessly charming, so it was possible, but he doubted they understood that being in the diplomatic corps required actual effort. Work wasn’t a concept they grasped well.
“Which embassy?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just find one that’s having a party. I’ll ask my sister if she wants to come with us to California.”
“You’ll also need a tutor for the girls so they don’t get behind in school.” Tilly made a note on her pad. “Anything else?”
“Not right now, but I hope this bed-and-breakfast place has decent plumbing.”
Tilly looked smug. “If they don’t, you can fire me.”
“I’ve fired you a hundred times. You refuse to go.”
“That’s what makes me such a valuable employee... I don’t listen to a word you say.”
He smiled faintly. Tilly was more valuable to him than a thousand other employees and she knew it.
As she walked out of the office, he closed his eyes, wishing he could go back to when life had been simpler. But life never got simpler. It just got harder.
CHAPTER ONE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
CARLIE BENTON BREEZED through the back entrance of Old City Hall. No longer a civic building, it housed the reservation hub and guest reception area for Poppy Gold Inns and Conference Center, along with various offices and other useful spaces.
“Good morning,” called a familiar voice.
Carlie grinned at her aunt. “Good morning, Aunt Polly. Wasn’t Thanksgiving terrific?”
“It was wonderful. I think we broke a record for everyone getting back home to Glimmer Creek for the holiday.”
“That’s because they wanted to see Tessa’s baby.”
Polly Murphy beamed. “I don’t think Tessa and Gabe got to hold their daughter the entire afternoon, even to change Meredith’s diapers.”
“Tessa was able to nurse Merri, that’s all.” Carlie glanced at the clock. “Oops, I’ve got to go. Busy day. See you later.”
Until sixteen months ago, Carlie had been working in the San Francisco Bay Area, only returning to her hometown for visits. Then she’d been hired as the Poppy Gold Inns’ activity director. Carlie loved it and in many ways working at the historic bed-and-breakfast facility was like attending a family reunion every day. Her cousin Tessa McKinley was the owner-manager along with her father, Liam Connor, and half the employees were related in one way or another.
If only her own father...
A hint of melancholy went through Carlie. Dad had been injured the previous summer while laying down asphalt on a road as a highway worker. An impatient driver had sped around some slow-moving cars and plowed into him, permanently damaging his leg. Mike Benton now worked as a traffic flagger at road construction sites, which he hated. But he also wouldn’t take a job at Poppy Gold, no matter how much the family cajoled him.
“I don’t want anybody’s pity,” he’d declared on more than one occasion. He didn’t understand that it wouldn’t be pity; it would be giving Poppy Gold the benefit of three decades of practical, hands-on civil engineering experience.
Carlie shook the thought away and greeted the members of her staff who’d already arrived.
“Did you hear...?” Joan Peters started to say, only to stop and blush.
“Hear what?” asked Carlie.
“Nothing,” Tracy Wade said hastily.
Tracy and Joan exchanged glances and hurriedly went back to making holiday name tags for the staff.
Carlie frowned.
She’d sensed an air of anticipation in Old City Hall after arriving, but had put it down to adrenaline. They had to hit the ground running to get ready for Christmas, so there was little time for day-after-Thanksgiving relaxation. For the next six weeks, Poppy Gold would be devoted to the Christmas and New Year celebrations. The Victorian village was ideally suited for strings of lights, electric candles in the windows, mistletoe, evergreen swags and everything else that was bright and cheerful.
“Is something going on that I should know about?” she asked.
“Uh, no. We mustn’t gossip.”
Especially here at work, Carlie added silently.
Gossip was a form of entertainment in the small town of Glimmer Creek, but it was discouraged at Poppy Gold, particularly when it came to their guests.
Carlie didn’t have time to think about anything new, regardless. The basic holiday schedule had been established long before she’d begun working as the activities director, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be busy implementing her own ideas. Traditionally, the autumn decorations came down the morning after Thanksgiving, with Christmas arriving with a vengeance the next day. Well, it would arrive with a fervent festive spirit.
Poppy Gold Inns had guests who booked years in advance for Christmas kickoff day, as the regulars called it. Visitors didn’t have to participate, but being able to join in as part of the “work crew” was why many of them came for the extended Thanksgiving weekend, saying it got them in the mood for the holiday. Some loved decorating trees, some preferred making wreaths, while others strung evergreen garlands on fences or lampposts or worked on the public areas of a specific Victorian. There were lots of things to do for all ages.
In her office, Carlie pulled up a list of the expected Friday check-ins on the computer, her eyebrows shooting upward when she saw that the largest suite at the John Muir Cottage had been reserved for the next month by the Forrester family. Actually, for the next month and a half.
Forrester?
The name seemed familiar, but she couldn’t think why.
Carlie dialed her cousin’s number. Tessa was Poppy Gold’s manager, and if anyone knew what was going on, she was the one. After all, the John Muir Cottage was special. Poppy Gold reserved it for active service members, as well as veterans and military families who were going through a difficult period.
“Hi,” she said when Tessa answered. “I wanted to check with you about the John Muir Cottage. The Yosemite suite has been reserved through January 7. What if you get an urgent referral for someone else?”
“We’ll put them in the Gold Strike House or find something else. You know we always keep a certain percentage of space available for emergencies, though nothing the size of the Yosemite suite. It should be okay. Referrals for families are rare at Christmastime.”
“But a month and a half? That’s longer than normal.”
“It’s an unusual situation. I, um...” Tessa sounded distracted, probably because of the baby crying in the background. A moment later, she came back on the line. “Sorry, Merri needed some attention. Anyway, Mrs. Forrester was an army major who died in the Middle East. The father wants to get away from home with his twin daughters to help them through the holiday season. Apparently they’re still having a rough time dealing with their mother’s death.”
Forrester?
Carlie’s jaw dropped as she realized why the name was familiar. The year before it had been on magazine covers, scandal rags, newspapers...everywhere. There weren’t too many wealthy men whose wives had died wearing army fatigues and the media had covered the story for weeks. She’d felt terrible for them. Grief should be a private thing.
“Uh...oh, I see,” Carlie said. “Are they staying under the usual terms?”
Poppy Gold’s policy was to offer military families seven days of rest and relaxation at no charge, and a substantially reduced rate for longer visits, but Luke Forrester could probably buy Poppy Gold with his pocket change. She remembered the articles about him saying he had the Midas touch for everything from real estate to investing to manufacturing. Basically, he ran a huge conglomerate of different companies.
“It was a regular referral from General Pierson’s office, so it wouldn’t seem right to treat them differently from anyone else who’s stayed there.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Carlie hung up. Her staff had left on various tasks, giving her a quiet moment to think. Celebrities often visited Poppy Gold, so she couldn’t be sure the air of anticipation she’d noticed was because of Luke Forrester’s imminent arrival. It seemed possible, though. He was a different kind of celebrity and female employees were bound to see him as a romantically tragic figure, particularly the unmarried ones.
She shook her head and went to the storeroom to finish checking the contents of the shipment received on Wednesday. This year, she’d suggested they give a uniquely designed Poppy Gold Christmas ornament to the guests and volunteers for kickoff day. But the ornaments had arrived late and she and her staff were still checking for quality and putting them back into their gift boxes.
Two hours later, she got up and stretched. She wasn’t done, but she wanted to attend a noon luncheon at the concert hall catered by Sarah’s Sweet Treats. Sarah was one of her cousins and a fabulous cook and baker.
It was a fun event, featuring dishes made with “leftover” turkey. Of course, they weren’t actually leftovers because the catering staff had been baking turkey all night, but the guests wouldn’t care. They could enjoy “leftover” Thanksgiving dishes, but also curried turkey salad, turkey croquettes, turkey sandwiches...along with a huge number of other inventive offerings.
Creative Turkey Bites had started nine years ago when Tessa’s mother decided a few of their stay-over guests might miss leftovers. Because of that, Poppy Gold had begun serving a second turkey meal on the Friday after Thanksgiving. The tickets were expensive, but worth twice the price in Carlie’s opinion.
“Carlie, Bill Blalock just phoned,” Tim Mahoney called out from his cubicle. “Your presence is requested in Guest Reception.”
Because her office was located in Old City Hall, she was sometimes asked to help out with public relations issues. On the few occasions when her presence was “requested,” it meant they had a difficult guest. She headed to the reception area, only to stop and blink when she saw Luke Forrester standing near the curved mahogany reception counter.
His pictures hadn’t done him justice. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen—and the most grumpy-looking one, too. Two little girls stood nearby. Both seemed solemn and anxious and one had tearstains on her face. Plainly they weren’t experiencing any warm, after-Thanksgiving glow.
Carlie stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Carlie Benton. May I help you?”
“Yes. We’ve been up since two this morning and now I’ve been informed we can’t get into our accommodations for several hours,” Luke Forrester snapped, ignoring her extended hand.
“I see.”
So much for romantically tragic; he was more like the Grinch who’d stolen Christmas. Carlie cast a look at the clock. It was shortly before noon and check-in started at 4:00 p.m. unless prior arrangements had been made. Both the website and any employee Mr. Forrester talked to would have made that clear.
Carlie walked around to a registration monitor and confirmed they had a standard reservation, with no special requests.
“I’m sorry, but your rooms aren’t ready yet.” She smiled at the two girls, who had to be identical twins—they were as alike as two peas in a pod. “In the meantime, would you like to have a yummy lunch?”
The one whose cheeks were tearstained ducked her head while the other offered a tiny smile in return. “Yes, thank you. I’m Beth,” she said. “And this is my sister, Annie.”
She nudged Annie, who wiggled her fingers in a small wave.
“It’s great to meet you both. I’m Carlie.”
“Excuse me, you haven’t explained why you weren’t ready for us when we arrived,” Luke Forrester interjected impatiently.
Carlie fixed him with the steady gaze she’d cultivated dealing with newspaper reporters at her old public relations job. It was never easy for her to stay calm, though. She had a terrible temper.
“Mr. Forrester, I’m very sorry, but check-in time is 4:00 p.m. We had visitors at the John Muir Cottage last night. They left on schedule and our housekeeping staff is working to get everything ready for you. In the meantime, there’s a special luncheon being served down the street. You and your daughters are welcome to eat as our guests while you’re waiting.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and she expected further demands, but he finally said, “Fine,” in a sharp tone.
Carlie glanced at Bill Blalock. He was excellent with people, so it was unusual for him not to be able to handle a difficult client. Of course, no matter how skilled he was, a few guests always insisted on speaking to someone with more authority. In most cases, she’d discovered they’d caused their own problem and didn’t want to take responsibility.
“Bill, please call me when Mr. Forrester’s accommodations are ready,” she asked, giving him a significant look that suggested putting a rush on the cleaning crew.
Poppy Gold Inns allowed guests into their rooms early when feasible, but first they had to be properly prepared and approved by a housekeeping supervisor. While Carlie didn’t believe that bad manners and arbitrary expectations should be rewarded, the Forrester family was obviously under a great deal of strain. Quickly getting them into their suite would be best all around.
“I’ll take care of it,” Bill promised. “Don’t be concerned about your luggage, Mr. Forrester. We’ll secure your bags here and deliver them later.”
* * *
LUKE NODDED CURTLY.
He still questioned whether this trip to California was the best idea for the girls, and being told the house wasn’t available hadn’t helped. A part of him knew it was unreasonable to be upset, but nothing was going well.
Flying at night was his preference since it saved time, but the jet’s copilot had been rear-ended while driving to the airport. Though she’d escaped injury, Luke had insisted she take a few days off. Not wanting to wait for a replacement, he’d taken the copilot’s seat himself rather than working during the flight as planned. He held a pilot’s license for emergencies, though this had mostly qualified as an inconvenience.
His sister was still in Austin; she was being treated for an ear infection and couldn’t fly until the doctor said it was okay. Luke had hired a backup copilot and sent the jet back to Texas so Nicole could come once she was well enough for travel.
The limousine service had been late meeting them at the airport and the drive to Glimmer Creek on the small curving roads had upset Annie’s stomach. She’d cried and gotten sick, only to push him away when he tried to help.
On top of everything else, the private tutor he’d hired had canceled just hours before their departure, so now he’d have to get someone local.
A polite throat-clearing sound drew his attention. “This way, Mr. Forrester,” said Carlie Benton.
She was holding Beth’s hand, and though her expression was pleasant, Luke suspected she wasn’t impressed with him. That was okay. He hadn’t gotten where he was without making a few enemies.
“Do either of you skate?” Carlie asked the girls as they walked down the front steps. “Ice skating, I mean.”
“Yes, but not like Aunt Nicole,” Beth told her. “She’s awfully good. She can spin and twirl and everything.”
“Aunt Nicole was s’posed to come with us in Papa’s jet, but her ear got sick,” Annie half whispered, making Luke’s eyes widen. Annie was shier than her sister and rarely spoke to strangers.
“That’s too bad. Is she coming later?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m glad. We have a skating rink starting tomorrow after the water freezes, so you’ll have a chance to skate if your papa doesn’t mind.” Carlie stopped and pointed across the street to the park. “It’s going to be right over there, past that little white bandstand. And you know what else we’re having this year? A sledding hill. That is, we’ll have one when the temperature is cold enough to make snow.”
“Yippee,” cried Beth.
Carlie grinned at both girls and continued walking. Down the street was an attractive building with a historic marker on the front lawn saying Glimmer Creek Concert Hall. It reminded Luke of the concert hall at the historic Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado.
Where he’d stayed with Erika on their honeymoon.
Hell, how long would everything remind him of what he’d lost?
Frustrated, Luke directed his thoughts elsewhere as they climbed the steps. On the pillared veranda, he read a freestanding sign next to the door. “Creative Turkey Bites?” he asked wryly. “So your ‘special’ luncheon is recycled Thanksgiving leftovers.”
“We don’t serve leftovers at Poppy Gold,” Carlie said, her blue eyes glittering coolly. “The meal showcases the ways leftover turkey could be made into something new and different. In addition, traditional Thanksgiving dishes are provided for people who still want them. But everything is freshly prepared.”
Inside, there was a buzz of conversation and Carlie was greeted by one guest after another. She introduced Beth and Annie by their first names only, for which Luke was grateful. While it was entirely possible nobody would recognize their names, he preferred to avoid awkward moments. Privacy was important, particularly for his daughters.
A barbershop quartet in red-and-white-striped jackets was entertaining in the front of the hall, their mellow tones resonating around the room. While pleasant, the decorations were still autumnal in theme and Luke worried the girls would be disappointed. He’d told them that spending the holidays in California would be like going to a Christmas wonderland. When would he learn not to promise something he couldn’t control?
“Good afternoon, Sarah,” Carlie said to a slender blonde woman wearing a chef’s apron. “This is Luke and his two daughters, Annie and Beth. They’re Poppy Gold’s guests today for lunch.”
Sarah beamed. “Welcome. Just get in line and tell the servers what you want to try.”
“Thanks.” Carlie crouched so she was level with Annie. “Would you like to wash your face before you eat?” she asked gently.
“Okay.” Annie put her fingers in Carlie’s outstretched hand.
“Is that all right?” Carlie queried, looking up at him. “I can take her through the food line when we get back. Just let me know if she has any allergies.”
“It’s fine. Neither of the girls have allergies.”
Yet Luke was perturbed as he watched his daughter leave with her. Damn it, he was Annie’s father, but she’d refused to let him help her, either in the limousine or after they’d arrived.
Sometimes he questioned whether Beth and Annie blamed him for their mother not being there. Sometimes he even wondered that himself. If he hadn’t been so open-minded about Erika staying in the service, she might still be alive.
Open-minded?
He snorted at the thought. Hardly. More than anything he’d wanted to keep Erika at home. Even the media had known he wasn’t open-minded. What was the headline that had become so popular...the Beauty and the Autocrat?
It hadn’t been fair to his wife. While beautiful, she’d also been a brilliant, decisive army officer. Luke didn’t see himself as autocratic, either—he just tried to make sure the people he cared about were safe and didn’t lack for anything. There was nothing wrong with that. Nonetheless, he’d wanted to be supportive of Erika’s career choice.
The irony was that his wife had raised the question of resigning her commission after the girls were born. He’d tried not to influence her, so now he would always wonder what might have happened if he’d followed his instincts and asked her to stay home.
* * *
“IS THAT BETTER?” Carlie asked Annie, drying her cheeks with a towel.
The youngster heaved a sigh. “I guess. But my eyes are scratchy.”
“You’ll probably forget about it when you eat.”
They were in the lounge area of the restroom and Annie patted the cushion she was sitting on. “This couch is funny.”
“It’s called a fainting couch. They used to be popular back in the 1800s, which is when the concert hall was built. What do you know about Poppy Gold? That’s the name of this place.”
Annie shrugged. “Papa told Aunt Nicole that it’s a tourist town.”
Carlie knew she was biased, but Poppy Gold was a whole lot more than just a tourist town. “It’s a Victorian village, Annie, which means it was built long ago when Queen Victoria ruled England. People visit here and stay in our homes and hotels. We have lots of fun things to do and I think you came at the best time of all. Christmas is my favorite time of year.”
“I used to like it, too. But, um, I’m not sure anymore.”
“Maybe we can make it your favorite again. Will you give Poppy Gold a chance?”
Annie chewed her lip for a long minute. “I’ll try.”
Sadness went through Carlie. The child couldn’t be more than six, yet her eyes were much older.
Out in the main hall, Carlie took her through the food line, letting her carry her plate to the table where Beth and her father were sitting.
Luke murmured a “Thank you,” along with his daughter.
“You’re welcome to eat all you like,” Carlie said, winking at Beth and giving Annie a smile meant just for her.
Over at the serving table, she got back in line.
“Lots of turkey curry salad,” she told the server, someone on Sarah’s staff she didn’t know well.
“It’s my favorite, too.” The woman put three large scoops onto the plate and sprinkled them with roasted cashews. “What else can I get you?”
“One of the turkey-and-cranberry-cream-cheese sandwiches. And some green salad so I can pretend I’m eating healthy again.”
“You got it.”
Plate filled, Carlie joined her aunt Polly at a table along the wall.
Aunt Polly clucked at her. “I was trying to ignore that curry salad. Your hips can stand it—mine can’t.”
“Sorry.” Carlie ate a forkful. “Would it help if I said it was terrible?”
“Nope, because I’d know you were lying.”
It was a lie. The food that Sarah and her catering staff prepared was always fabulous.
Carlie periodically looked over at the Forrester family, noticing that Annie and Beth were talking to each other, but Luke didn’t seem to be talking to anyone. He was eating, though, and drinking large amounts of the specially blended Poppy Gold coffee.
Carlie’s tension grew as the meal progressed. Being six-year-olds, Annie and Beth were slow eaters, but they would finish eventually. If they weren’t in their suite soon, she’d have to go to plan B to keep them busy. Fortunately, her phone rang as she was swallowing a last bite of custard-rhubarb pie. It was Bill Blalock saying the Yosemite suite was ready for the Forresters.
“Thanks, Bill. Great timing—they just finished.”
“Their luggage is already in the cottage and Christine will personally escort them in a guest shuttle. She’s outside the concert hall as we speak.”
“Terrific. I’ll let them know.”
She got up and crossed the hall to where the Forresters were sitting. “Hi. I just got the call that your rooms are ready. A shuttle is waiting outside to take you there.”
Luke Forrester nodded. He wore a slightly mellower expression, possibly aided by food and coffee.
Time would tell what kind of guest he’d be. But at least he did have two adorable daughters.
CHAPTER TWO (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
“YOU’RE IN THE Yosemite suite,” Christine Saunders explained as she stopped the electric shuttle in front of a Victorian. “The door opens off the garden on the south side. Breakfast will be delivered by our caterer, Sarah’s Sweet Treats, and Housekeeping will come each morning to clean. Is anytime after eight too early, or would you prefer later?”
Luke stared at the young woman who’d driven them from the concert hall. “Are you saying we don’t have the entire house?”
“Er, no, Mr. Forrester. The John Muir Cottage is divided into several different suites, but the Yosemite is the largest and has private access. Please be assured, the walls are well insulated, so it should be very quiet.”
His temper began to rise again. It had been on a short fuse for the past year, and when he was particularly tired, it was even worse.
“It was my understanding I’d rented the entire house.”
Confusion flitted across her face. “Did someone at Poppy Gold tell you that?”
“I didn’t speak to anyone here. My executive assistant made the arrangements. She said—”
Luke stopped abruptly and gritted his teeth. Actually, all Tilly had said was that they were staying at the John Muir Cottage. Which, despite being called a cottage, was actually a large, rambling Victorian. He’d simply assumed they’d have the entire house and all the amenities he was accustomed to having when he traveled.
Damn it, Tilly knew the locations where he took the girls always had a full staff, from housekeepers to nannies. She’d mentioned they’d have to eat out for lunch and dinner, but that was all.
“Mr. Forrester, I assure you the Yosemite suite is quite spacious,” Christine explained earnestly. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs you have a smaller bedroom, a family room, front living room, powder room, kitchen and laundry. Each bedroom also has a private bath.”
The comment Luke had made to Tilly about modern plumbing flitted through his mind. It hadn’t occurred to him that some of the bedrooms might not have a private bath.
“Very well,” he said tensely. There was little else he could do. It was unlikely that other suitable accommodations were available in the small town and returning to Austin would just upset the girls even more. “After eight is fine for Housekeeping, but I’d prefer breakfast earlier.”
“Is the seven to eight time slot all right?”
“Yes.” Luke lifted his daughters out of the shuttle.
“Would you like me to show you around the suite?” Christine asked.
“Thanks, but we’ll be fine.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay. Please let us know if there’s anything you need.” She drove away before he could get his wallet out for a tip.
“Let’s go see our home for the next few weeks,” he said to Beth and Annie.
They looked at him doubtfully. Perhaps he should have brought their nanny, but he’d agreed with Tilly that if the trip was going to do any good, a complete break was best. He just hadn’t expected Nicole to get sick and the tutor to drop out at the eleventh hour.
He’d manage, though. His sister would be here in a few days, and however small the town of Glimmer Creek appeared to be, surely they had qualified tutors available.
The garden around the John Muir Cottage was trimmed and mulched for winter, but it was still attractive. A covered porch overlooked the garden and rolling hills beyond, and it was furnished with white wicker outdoor furniture.
The real disappointment started inside.
While the rooms had a pleasant Victorian flavor, there were no Christmas decorations in sight. Granted, it was just the day after Thanksgiving, but he’d expected more. A thorough check of the premises also revealed there wasn’t a single piece of office equipment, though he could have sworn that Tilly had mentioned a full business center.
Beth and Annie had slept on the plane, but they seemed half-asleep now—maybe the turkey lunch was making them groggy—so he hunted through the luggage for their favorite stuffed animals and they curled into bed for a nap. Down in the kitchen, he dialed Tilly’s cell number. A chirpy voice-mail recording greeted him. Knowing Tilly Robinson and her determined attempts to manage his life, she probably planned to duck his calls for a few days until he cooled down.
“Tilly, it’s me,” he said after the beep. “I refuse to believe you didn’t know this is a suite, not the whole house, or that there’s no personal staff. Right now, it’s just me and the girls. The tutor didn’t come and Nicole couldn’t fly with us because she has an ear infection. She won’t be here for another few days. Get back to me.”
Muttering beneath his breath, he called the front desk.
“Yes, Mr. Forrester?” Based on the British accent, it was most likely the employee who’d first greeted them.
“I’d like to speak with Carlie Benton.”
“Certainly, but is there anything I can do?”
“I prefer dealing with Ms. Benton.” Luke wasn’t certain why except that she appeared to be the kind of person who could get things done. Besides, Beth and Annie had responded to her...a lot more than they’d responded to him the past year.
“Yes, sir.” A moment later, the same voice came back on the line. “I’m sorry—Carlie is away from her desk. But I’ve called her mobile and she’ll stop at your suite in a few minutes.”
Luke had frowned the moment he heard “away from her desk,” only to realize that a face-to-face discussion would be best.
* * *
CARLIE COULDN’T BELIEVE she already needed to deal with Luke Forrester again.
Though she was the Poppy Gold activities director, her responsibilities included public relations. The job had its challenging moments, but it was a big improvement over doing PR for a company with frequent product safety recalls. It was one of the reasons she’d resigned...along with not wanting to see her ex-fiancé every day. Especially after he’d gotten engaged to the owner’s daughter.
July the previous year had not been a good month. First her wedding had been canceled at the last minute in the most embarrassing way, and ten days later her father was critically injured.
A friendly voice hailed her as she approached the John Muir Cottage. “Hi, Carlie.”
It was Esther Perkins, one of their repeat guests. Esther lived in San Jose and stayed at Poppy Gold several times a year, but Christmas kickoff day seemed to be her favorite.
“What’s up, Esther?”
“I just want to be sure that I can decorate at the Victorian Cat tomorrow. I like it best.”
“Of course you can.” Guests weren’t employees; they could volunteer for anything they wanted to do.
“Do you think Moby Dick will let me put a red bow around his neck?” Esther asked. “It would look darling against his fur.”
Poppy Gold tried to make something unique about each of the houses, and at the Victorian Cat mansion, each room was populated by an amiable feline. Moby Dick was a fluffy white cat with a talent for manipulating guests into giving him extra treats.
Carlie chuckled. “Moby is easygoing, but I wouldn’t try making him wear a bow. Not to worry, though—Tessa found red and green cat collars from a specialty store and they’ll be put on the VC cats tomorrow.”
“That’s wonderful.”
With a wave, Esther hurried away and Carlie continued toward the John Muir Cottage, wishing all their guests were like Esther Perkins.
Bill had offered to give Luke Forrester her cell number to save her a trip, but Luke was the kind of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to phone at 2:00 a.m. to demand a cup of tea. The twenty-four-hour staff in Guest Reception could handle those kinds of calls and decide whom to contact in case of something more serious. She might do public relations work in addition to being the activities director, but she wasn’t a frontline manager, thank goodness.
Trying to appear friendly rather than frustrated, Carlie knocked at the Yosemite suite.
The door opened almost immediately.
“Hello, Mr. Forrester. I understand you asked for me.”
He cocked his head as if listening for something and then stepped onto the porch. “Yes, I have several concerns. For one, where are the decorations? I promised my daughters this would be a holiday extravaganza. Even though this is just the day after Thanksgiving, I expected to see a few signs of Christmas.”
Carlie could see his concern and knew it wouldn’t help to point out that the website listed the date when Poppy Gold was decorated. At any rate, it was Annie and Beth who mattered and Carlie didn’t want them to be disappointed.
“I understand, but tomorrow should reassure the girls. Our guests call it Christmas kickoff day,” she told him. “Members of the historical society will be in Victorian costumes and go around caroling in small groups. In addition, we’ll have snack kiosks throughout the facility serving coffee, hot spiced cider, cocoa and a selection of cookies and other treats. It’s purely voluntary, but guests are invited to help decorate trees, make wreaths, put up decorations and this ye—”
“You have guests do staff work?” Luke’s tone was neutral, with only the faintest emphasis on the words guests and staff, but Carlie spotted a hint of derision in his eyes. Her temper rose, but she managed to squash it down again.
“Not staff work, just fun. Kickoff day is extremely popular. Most of our guests come for Thanksgiving weekend just to participate,” she replied evenly.
The event was expensive for Poppy Gold since they needed an army of employees to keep an eye on things, do the heavy work, watch the treat kiosks and do the primary decorating. Getting everything done in one day would be impossible without the massive amounts of planning and prep work she and the other Poppy Gold employees did for weeks beforehand.
“I’m sure it’s entertaining if you enjoy that sort of thing.” Luke’s expression suggested only a moron would enjoy “that sort of thing.”
Her smile became even more strained. She loved Christmas...the colors, music, the warmth, the decorating and the way many people seemed to behave nicer in the holiday season. Though in Luke Forrester’s case, she’d hate to think this was his “nice.”
“As I mentioned, Mr. Forrester, participation is voluntary. If you aren’t interested in decorating, my staff has planned a number of activities, as well. As for your suite, it will be dec—”
“Not by nosy guests, I presume,” he said, cutting her off a second time. “I expect privacy. As a matter of fact, I expected to have the entire house, not just a section of it.”
Muscles tightening, Carlie reminded herself again that Luke Forrester had lost his wife and no matter how wealthy and demanding, he was dealing with something traumatic.
She drew a deep breath. “Employees decorate inside the suites. As for having the entire house, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” she apologized as cordially as possible. “But there are eleven bedrooms in the John Muir Cottage and dividing the space means it’s available to multiple individuals or families.”
“I see.”
“Before I forget, I wanted to tell you that since we’re supposed to have a hard freeze tonight, we’re starting the snowmakers on the sledding hill as soon as the temperature drops low enough. Probably around eight. Spiced cider and other goodies will be served. I thought Annie and Beth might enjoy it.”
“I don’t think so. We’ve had a long day.”
“Please, Papa, can we go?” asked a voice from the open door behind them.
Luke jerked around. “Beth, I thought you were asleep.”
“I woke up. Carlie, can you take us to see the snow if Papa is too tired?”
Carlie made an effort to keep her face straight. “That’s up to your papa.” She’d hoped to be sliding into a warm bath by then, but couldn’t resist the entreaty in Beth’s eyes.
“I wanna go with Carlie,” Annie declared, peeking around her sister.
Luke seemed thoroughly harassed. “Very well. That is, we’ll all go. Now go back to bed. You’ll need extra rest if you’re going to be out late.”
The twins instantly hurried away and Carlie tried to look innocent as he turned to her. “Shall I come by around seven thirty this evening?”
“No, we’ll meet you there.”
“Fine. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I need a tutor for the girls. The one I hired in Austin quit at the last minute.”
I wonder why, Carlie thought wryly.
“I also need a business center installed,” he continued. “Desk, a computer with dual monitors, a minimum of two additional phone lines, printer-fax machine and satellite communications. The downstairs bedroom can be used since it won’t be needed for a live-in tutor. I’ll be managing my business concerns remotely for the next six weeks, and contrary to what your website claims, there aren’t any business services in the suite.”
She stared. Had he honestly believed those kinds of facilities were installed in every building at Poppy Gold?
“There’s a courtesy business center available at Old City Hall,” Carlie told him firmly. “That’s what the website states. At this time of year we don’t book any business conferences, so except for a few guests checking their email, it’s empty most of the time.”
“I need one here in the suite.”
Carlie suspected her patience was going to be tested to the absolute limit by this guy.
“Mr. Forrester, the John Muir Cottage isn’t wired for that kind of technology. However, Poppy Gold has Wi-Fi and we can provide a multifunction printer for your visit, along with a computer since you apparently didn’t bring your own laptop. The existing phone line can be used to send and receive faxes.”
His features tightened. “I do have a laptop with me, but I keep it off-line when I’m outside my company’s firewall. I take it there isn’t a business supply store in Glimmer Creek where a new computer could be purchased.”
“No.”
“In that case, I’ll take the loaner until my assistant can arrange for the proper equipment to be sent.”
She nodded. “All right. As for a tutor, the school district has a list of people who do that sort of work. I’ll send a copy over and you can call them for interviews.”
“I—”
“Have a good rest of the day,” Carlie interrupted brightly. “I’m going back to my office now to get things started. If you get hungry, there are several restaurants that deliver. Just consult the information folder in the kitchen. We put a facility map in there, so you shouldn’t have a problem finding the sledding hill later. See you then.”
Carlie hurried away before she lost her cool and gave him a piece of her mind. Honestly, he wanted a full office in his suite? According to what Tessa had said, Luke Forrester was at Poppy Gold to help his daughters through Christmas, but how was he going to do that if it was business as usual for him?
* * *
LUKE CLOSED THE door and groaned. The coffee he’d drunk had carried him for an extra hour, but that was all.
At home he’d be working, no matter how little sleep he’d gotten the night before. Except for the rare times Erika had been on leave, he used the day after Thanksgiving to read reports and make calls to overseas associates who didn’t celebrate the US holiday.
As for Beth and Annie, they would have gone to the Austin zoo or aquarium with his parents. Curiously, becoming grandparents had changed Craig and Heather Forrester. A little at least. They were still irresponsible in many ways, but they tried to spend time with their granddaughters every couple of months.
He appreciated it. When he was growing up, they’d acted more like reckless playmates than dependable adults. Money was no longer a problem for them, either, since he’d quietly tripled the size of their trust funds and arranged for the trustees to disburse the payments monthly, rather than annually.
Inexplicably, his thoughts drifted to Carlie Benton. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so tired and distracted he might have handled their contacts with more grace. He certainly should have realized they wouldn’t have a business center in every suite at Poppy Gold Inns, but he’d grown accustomed to the kind of services provided by Caribbean villas and French châteaus.
Tilly often claimed he’d been spoiled by success and needed a dose of reality... Maybe this was her way of giving it to him.
Luke got up and found the informational folder Carlie had mentioned, flipping through it to acquaint himself with Poppy Gold’s amenities and those of the local community. Then he saw a reminder of the check-in and checkout times and sighed.
Apparently he’d made an ass of himself in more ways than one.
* * *
NICOLE FORRESTER PUT a warm compress against her infected ear and wondered how Luke and her nieces were getting settled in California. The pictures she’d seen on the internet of the Victorian community looked wonderful.
She’d always wanted to explore the Gold Country; stories of the 1849 Gold Rush had fascinated her as a child. Well, a lot of things fascinated her. She’d just never found a vocation that compelled her. Instead, she worked for her brother as a computer programmer. Luke paid his employees well and provided excellent benefits, but she hadn’t earned the job on her own merits. He also did ridiculously generous things like buying a new car every year for her birthday and paying off her condo, no matter how much she protested.
Her protective big brother. She adored him, though ever since Erika’s death, he’d been different.
Everything had been different.
Depressed, Nicole stuffed another pillow behind her neck. Sometimes it seemed as if she hadn’t achieved a single thing with her life. Certainly nothing like Luke, who’d made his first billion by the time he was twenty-seven. Everything he touched turned to gold. Soon afterward he’d gotten married and a few years later the twins were born. He seemed able to do anything, whether it was achieving wild success in real estate, playing the stock market or building a massive conglomerate company with dozens of subsidiaries.
Or finding someone who genuinely loved him.
Bored and vaguely discouraged, Nicole turned on the television and flipped through the cable channels. Finally she got up and put a DVD into the player. She hadn’t watched Forbidden Planet in a while and it would be a distraction. Normally she wasn’t so moody, but getting sick and being unable to travel with Luke and her nieces was lousy timing.
She was worried about Luke and just as worried about Beth and Annie. Annie was shy and introverted, while Beth plowed ahead, often thoughtlessly. They were young, but patterns were established early.
Nicole shuddered as she recalled a kid she’d met in childhood. The Forresters had been out of money as usual, so they’d invited themselves to stay with wealthy friends in South Carolina. Kira was the Lexingtons’ only child and had demanded her own way in everything. She was still like that...which might explain her four divorces.
The opening segment of the film began playing and Nicole relaxed. Some of the special effects were poor, but she loved old science fiction movies and Forbidden Planet was one of her favorites. It was great seeing Walter Pidgeon and Leslie Nielsen on the screen together—one older, one younger, and both equally delicious.
Yet in a way, seeing the character played by Anne Francis was discouraging. The woman was fearless, even if she wasn’t always likable. Nicole wished she could be more like that...strong, bold and unafraid. Instead, she tried to be invisible most of the time.
She pulled a lap robe over her legs. It was still just midafternoon and she ought to be doing something productive, but she wanted to recover and get out to California as soon as possible. Anyway, she was already packed and ready to go. She just needed the swelling in her ear to go down so it would be safe to fly.
* * *
CARLIE DROPPED BY the maintenance yard to see the loads of fresh evergreen that had been delivered that morning. The crew was sorting the branches, cutting them into usable sections and loading everything into containers for delivery to the various decorating work sites.
Lord, it really would be easier if Poppy Gold didn’t invite guests to help decorate. That way the evergreen swags and wreaths could be made ahead of time and be ready to go up first thing in the morning. Of course, it wouldn’t be as much fun, either.
Carlie inhaled the thick scent of pine and cedar. She loved Christmas and had always tried to be there for kickoff day. Her ex-fiancé’s indifference to her favorite time of year should have been her first clue that he was the wrong guy for her.
“What are you doing here?” asked Uncle Liam. He smiled at her, almost the way he used to smile before Aunt Meredith had died. They’d shared a wonderful marriage and had created Poppy Gold together. “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy?”
“I’m just stressed and wanted a sniff—nothing says Christmas like fresh-cut evergreen boughs.”
He gave her a hug. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I’m okay, just feeling sorry for myself. It’s an unattractive habit I’m trying to break.”
Uncle Liam was less depressed now, but the family tried to keep things upbeat around him. He left managing Poppy Gold to Tessa, though he still looked after the maintenance department, while Tessa’s husband had taken over the security division.
Thinking about it reminded Carlie that she ought to give her cousin a heads-up about Luke Forrester. As the Poppy Gold owner-manager, she needed to know what was going on. So instead of going straight back to Old City Hall, Carlie stopped at Tessa’s office in the train depot and found her cuddling little Meredith.
Carlie’s throat ached. She was thirty-one, only a year younger than Tessa, and had hoped to be a mother herself by now. And she might be if Derek had been the man she’d thought.
Instead, the morning they were supposed to get married he’d told her it was a mistake. Yeah, a mistake...he’d asked another woman to marry him. Incredibly, he seemed to think it wasn’t cheating since he’d decided to call off the wedding before sleeping with someone else. Or at least that was what he’d claimed.
She wasn’t convinced. In the cold light of reason, Carlie suspected he’d seen an opportunity to marry into money and had taken it.
So instead of being a wife and mother, she was an honorary aunt to the younger members of the family. She’d have to be content with that for now, because she wasn’t ready to let her heart get shredded again.
Tessa looked up. “Hey, you look frustrated.”
Carlie determinedly pushed Derek out of her mind. He hadn’t been a part of her life for more than a year and didn’t warrant the kind of energy she was spending on him. Perhaps it was on her mind, seeing how happy Tessa was with her husband. Gabe McKinley seemed to be Tessa’s opposite in every respect, but the way he looked at her and his new daughter...
“Carlie?” Tessa prompted.
“Sorry, my brain was somewhere else. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Luke Forrester isn’t particularly happy. Apparently he believed his family would have the entire John Muir Cottage. He also wants a full office installed in the Yosemite suite, including satellite communications.”
Tessa blinked. “He couldn’t have been serious.”
“Noooo, he was quite serious. He plans to run his conglomerate from Poppy Gold while staying here. Anyway, I told him about the facilities we do have and that he’s welcome to use loaner equipment.”
“We don’t expect anybody to take abuse from a guest,” Tessa said quietly. “No matter what their circumstances.”
Carlie shook her head. “He’s just demanding and his daughters almost make up for him being difficult. They’re adorable. I just wanted you to know since there’s a good chance he won’t be satisfied, whatever we do.”
“Don’t lose any sleep over it. Maybe Poppy Gold will work its magic on him.”
“I hope the magic works fast.”
They chatted for another few minutes before Carlie got up and said goodbye.
On the walk to her office, she called her parents, who expected her for dinner with her two brothers, home visiting from college over the Thanksgiving break. Between everything she had left to do and attending the snowmaking event with the Forresters later, she wouldn’t be able to eat with them.
“I’ll send Quinn or Russ over with something for you to eat,” Mom offered instantly. When Leah Benton couldn’t do anything to fix a problem, she fed people.
“No need. I have stuff in the office fridge and ate too much at lunch, anyhow. How is Dad? I wish he hadn’t worked today.”
“You know...the usual.”
Yeah, Carlie knew.
Her father pretended everything was fine, but standing for so many hours as a traffic flagger made his chronic pain that much worse. He didn’t have to work—the settlement from the accident was enough to cover lost wages—but Mike Benton refused to take things easy. To his way of thinking, men worked to support their families. They didn’t live on insurance settlements.
“Okay, Mom. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Carlie got off and hurried up the Old City Hall’s front steps. Inside to the left was a broad, curving staircase that rose to an open, semicircular gallery in front of the ballroom. On the right, there was a pair of elaborate double doors set with an intricate pattern of sparkling beveled glass. They were a striking entryway into the guest reception area and original to the building, which made them even better. She waved at Bill and Christine through the clear oval center and headed through the rotunda.
Quickly she packed a spare computer from the storeroom into a box, along with a multifunction printer. Then she printed out the list of local tutors. Next to Luisa Cabrera’s name she wrote that Luisa had taught first grade for thirty-five years.
“Tim, would you take this to the Yosemite suite for me?” she asked, putting the list into an envelope.
“No problem.”
She sealed the envelope and then accessed her voice mail. There was only one message. It was from Luke Forrester and what he said practically knocked her to the floor.
“Ms. Benton, it’s Luke Forrester calling. I failed to thank you for our lunch today. It was a nice gesture. I’ve read through the informational packet you mentioned and see that Poppy Gold Inns’ standard check-in time is 4:00 p.m. So, um, it was good to get into our accommodations early. Have a good afternoon and we’ll see you tonight.”
Carlie blinked. All things considered, it was practically an apology.
* * *
THE TEMPERATURE DROPPED rapidly once the sun had gone down and Carlie shivered as she hurried across Poppy Gold to meet the Forresters at the sledding hill. Turning down the twins’ requests had been impossible, but she hadn’t expected to stay this late and had just worn a lightweight coat to work.
The sledding hill was in the more open section of Poppy Gold where a number of gold miners’ cabins and other relics of the 1849 Gold Rush were preserved.
As the story went, a few of the miners had dug their heels in when the “townsfolk” wanted to buy them out and build fine homes on the rolling land above the creek. They’d hung on, forcing the town to build north of them on a flatter section. Most had been abandoned by the time James Connor bought the historic district of Glimmer Creek, but they’d been restored now. A few were even available for people who wanted to try sleeping in a primitive gold miner’s shanty.
A number of guests had already gathered at the base of the hill, breath fogging as they sipped from paper cups. Cheerful greetings back and forth showed their spirits weren’t dampened by the chilly air. Stacks of hay bales lined the gentle slope, creating a wide channel down to the flatter area below. Spotlights illuminated the scene, along with Christmas lights on the bare branches of the surrounding trees.
Carlie checked to see if the Forresters had arrived before getting decaf coffee for herself, grateful to wrap her fingers around the warm cup. If Luke and the twins didn’t arrive soon, they might miss the first sprays of snow from the machines. Not that it was actually snow when it came out, but the water droplets froze almost instantly in the frigid air.
Hurry up, she urged mentally.
A couple of minutes later she spotted them coming up the lighted path.
“We’re just about to start,” she called.
The girls eagerly got cider and cookies and stood at the base of the slope with the other guests. They were just in time. Uncle Liam stood at the top with two large handbells. He raised his arms theatrically and shook them.
The snowmakers chugged into life, starting at the top of the hill and moving down, spewing white plumes across the grass. The onlookers cheered and someone began singing “Let It Snow.” The others joined in and it was soon followed by “Jingle Bells” and other festive songs.
There were sixteen snowmakers altogether and they could put out a huge amount of “snow” by morning. In the meantime, the holiday lights sparkled brilliantly against the plumes of white.
Despite her awareness of Luke Forrester’s brooding presence, Carlie smiled.
She really loved Christmas.
CHAPTER THREE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
CARLIE GOT TO Poppy Gold early before six the next morning and went over her to-do list one more time. Her division wasn’t in charge of decorating—they coordinated guest activities—but she still felt responsible for anything that would add to or detract from a visitor’s experience.
She went upstairs to the ballroom where volunteers and employees had gathered. A cheerful babble of people talking greeted her, along with the scent of coffee and breakfast foods.
Uncle Liam and Tessa were talking to the supervisors assigned to the teams of decorators. Tessa’s husband was also there. He managed security operations for Poppy Gold and was speaking to his staff, who would keep a careful eye on the buildings as they were decorated. Gabe was a former navy SEAL, so he was fierce about security. Poppy Gold had always felt safe, but with Gabe McKinley on the job, it was probably more secure than Fort Knox.
Carlie collected a cup of coffee and a bagel and gathered her own team for a chat. They’d already been over the day’s plans, so she mostly wanted to be sure they didn’t have any questions. It was her second Christmas as the activities director, but she was still filled with nervous anticipation.
Everything had been staged for kickoff day the night before, including putting out the kiosks to be used for treats and setting up the locations where the wreaths and evergreen swags would be made. The equipment and supplies to create and decorate the skating rink had also been moved into position.
“Okay, everybody,” Tessa called twenty minutes later, clapping her hands. “It’s nearly seven o’clock and some of our guests get out early. Let’s go.”
Employees and volunteers began streaming through the various doors. Poppy Gold tried to have everyone in position by the time the first guests had finished breakfast, but they never succeeded. Excitement trumped the desire to sleep. Some didn’t even wait to eat breakfast, but that was all right—the treat kiosks would be stocked within the hour.
Work would also begin on filling the skating rink; it might have been better to set it up the previous evening and let the chilly weather help with the freezing process, but this way visitors could watch. As for the snowmakers on the sledding hill, they’d run all night and would keep going until the temperature rose too high.
Snow was probably coming out of their ears by now.
Carlie ate her last bite of bagel and hurried down the main staircase, humming. Yet her festive spirit faltered when she saw Luke Forrester and his daughters in the rotunda. She certainly hoped he was in a better mood this morning.
“Merry Christmas,” she called. “I hope you didn’t get too cold last night.”
“It was splendid,” Beth declared while Annie smiled shyly and ducked her head.
“This is better,” Luke said, glancing around with visible approval. The night registration staff had started decorating after midnight and it was lovely.
“Thanks. What can I do for you, Mr. Forrester?”
“Well, I—”
“Papa, why does Carlie have to call you Mr. Forrester?” Beth interrupted.
“Uh, she doesn’t.” He focused on Carlie. “That is, please call me Luke. I’m afraid I spilled coffee on our list of activities for today. I came to get another copy.”
Spilling coffee was such a human thing to do that Carlie grinned. “No problem—we have plenty. Just give me a moment.” She went to the reception desk to fetch another list. She returned and held it out. “Here you go. Annie and Beth may also enjoy seeing how much snow has been made since last night. The temperature is still below freezing, so the machines should be operating.”
Luke looked down at the cream-colored paper with holly decorating the edges. He appeared more rested than he had the day before, but whether it would have a positive effect on his mood remained to be seen.
“Just in case, I also got you another copy of the events planned in the next week,” Carlie added, giving him a second sheet. “Those are just the activities that have been scheduled. Other things occur spontaneously.”
He frowned. “How can the girls join in if we don’t know what’s happening?”
What part of spontaneous didn’t he understand?
“Don’t stay in your suite,” she replied. “Go sledding. Come out to the events. Then if something happens, you’ll have a fair chance of getting involved.”
And don’t spend all your time working, she told him silently.
After getting home late the night before, she’d researched Luke Forrester on the internet. She’d felt guilty because it had seemed like reading petty gossip, but she’d figured that knowing more might help her deal with the guy. Descriptions like brilliant, decisive and confident had been mixed with less complimentary labels, such as ruthless and arrogant. While she certainly agreed with the arrogant part, he also appeared supremely confident.
Not surprisingly, numerous pictures of his wife had also popped up and she was as beautiful as Carlie remembered. Society shots showed her in elegant evening gowns and expensive gems, while others were of her in uniform. She’d been stunning, even in military fatigues. Erika Forrester would have intimidated most women, no matter how sound their egos might be...and Carlie’s ego wasn’t particularly sturdy after the way Derek had treated her.
She glanced at Annie and Beth. In her brief acquaintance with them, she’d noticed they almost seemed disconnected from their father. There were few of the unspoken signals that usually flowed between parent and child. If she’d seen them somewhere and didn’t know the family, she wouldn’t have thought they were related.
Was it grief?
Tessa and Uncle Liam had grown even closer when Aunt Meredith died, but Tessa had been an adult. The girls being twins might change things, too.
Carlie checked the clock on the wall. She needed to be out, circulating through the different areas to be sure how the various activities her staff had planned were going. “Annie, Beth, would you like to start by making paper chains?” she asked encouragingly. “We’re giving prizes for different designs.”
“Goody,” cried Beth, while Annie nodded.
Carlie led the twins outside, assuming Luke would follow. Poppy Gold was abuzz with activity in the early-morning light. Mother Nature was cooperating when it came to the skating rink and sledding hill. Other than the rain forecast for Monday or Tuesday, the weather was supposed to be dry and unseasonably cold, which was ideal.
“Some of the kids’ activities are in the concert hall today,” she explained to Luke as they climbed the steps of the hall.
Only after Annie and Beth had begun work did Luke say something. “Paper chains?” he asked with eyebrows raised.
“It’s a good holiday craft for young children.”
“I guess. I just haven’t seen anybody make them since I was a kid.”
Carlie cocked her head. “Not even your daughters?”
“No, we have professional decorators. Ordinarily they come on November 30th and do the house inside and out.”
A wry comment threatened to break through Carlie’s diplomacy, so she pursed her lips and went over to check on Annie.
* * *
LUKE FOCUSED ON his daughters as they sorted through containers of colorful paper strips. He appreciated Carlie’s restraint in not pointing out that he’d expected Poppy Gold to be decked out several days before when his own house would have been decorated.
Christmas music was playing, and despite the early hour, quite a few children were in the room, cheerfully making their chains. Lighted “pine” garland entwined with strings of silver beads and red velvet ribbons had been put up the day before. Each corner of the room had an enormous decorated tree, covered with twinkling lights and ornaments that fit the quaint, historic atmosphere.
He shifted uncomfortably. What had possessed him to come to California? He didn’t do quaint. He didn’t do charming. He didn’t do cute. Erika hadn’t, either.
Yet Beth and Annie seemed to enjoy that kind of thing, possibly because of their nanny. Dacia was from Kilrush in Ireland and he sometimes thought he caught the lilt of her accent reflected in his daughters’ voices. When he’d interviewed her for the position, Dacia had announced she didn’t hold with not telling young ones fairy tales, so they should expect her to share the old legends and myths with their girls.
Though Luke had appreciated Dacia’s forthright honesty, Erika hadn’t been as certain since she didn’t want her daughters becoming fanciful. Yet even as infants, Beth and Annie had responded to Dacia far better than the other applicants. In the end, that had counted for more than anything else.
Luke read through the two activities lists. There were carol-singing parties, craft workshops to make Christmas ornaments, holiday scavenger hunts, a nightly parade of lighted historic vehicles and much more.
With any luck, the girls would react well. Otherwise, there wasn’t any point to visiting Glimmer Creek in the first place.
His phone rang and he stepped into a quieter spot to answer. “Hey, Nicole. How are you feeling?”
“Much better. The doctor thinks I can fly Monday. What’s going on there?”
He glanced around the room. “Quite a few things. They call it Christmas kickoff day, which means the entire historic district is being decorated. They surround it with activities and serve hot drinks and snacks at different locations. Last night they even made a production out of starting the snowmaking machines. There were treats and singing. Very...traditional.”
“It sounds like fun,” Nicole said, sounding wistful.
“The girls seemed to enjoy themselves. At the moment they’re making paper chains.”
“How are they doing?”
“It’s hard to tell—with Annie at least. Right now she might be on the verge of tears,” Luke said, worried again. “The activities director is talking to her. By the way, the tutor I hired couldn’t come. I have an interview set up with a retired schoolteacher instead.”
* * *
BACK IN AUSTIN, Nicole pressed a finger to her forehead. She wasn’t great with children, but she certainly could have tutored her nieces. Why had Luke invited her to go with him to California if he didn’t want her to help out?
“Maybe I could do it,” she suggested.
“No, getting someone else will give you time to enjoy yourself. But be prepared. Glimmer Creek is even smaller than I thought. There isn’t much shopping or other services.”
“I don’t have a problem with small towns.”
“You’ve never spent much time in one, either,” Luke retorted. “By the way, they’re setting up an outdoor skating rink today, so bring your skates.”
That was nice to hear about, but Nicole didn’t know why she couldn’t spend a few hours each day going over Beth and Annie’s schoolwork. It might help them get closer. Yet there wasn’t any point arguing with Luke once he’d made up his mind. Maybe she should cancel her trip altogether, but if there was the smallest chance she could do something to help her brother or nieces, she wanted to try.
“Okay. Anything else I should pack?” she asked.
“You may need your ski clothes. They’re also offering a sledding hill when the weather is cold enough. I’ve arranged for skates and sleds to be sent by express courier.”
“Surely the facility has sleds to go with the hill.”
“Probably, but I’m more comfortable choosing ones I know are well constructed. We’ll donate them when we leave.”
“Beth and Annie might want to keep theirs.”
“I can always get new sleds if needed.”
Nicole hesitated. “What I meant is that they might prefer keeping their sleds for sentimental reasons. I realize you and, uh, that you aren’t sentimental yourself, but your daughters might be.” She’d almost said “you and Erika,” only to catch herself. She never knew whether to talk about her sister-in-law or keep her mouth shut.
While Nicole had been fond of Erika, her sister-in-law hadn’t been easy to know, probably because they’d had so little in common. Luke’s wife had grown up in a military household, moving whenever her father was reassigned. From earliest childhood, she’d wanted to follow the family tradition of serving in the military. She’d been brilliant, courageous and dynamic. But having a conversation with her had always stymied Nicole.
“I don’t see any point in being sentimental,” Luke retorted, dragging Nicole’s thoughts to the present.
“It isn’t a crime.”
“Are you trying to start something with me, sister dear?”
Nicole made a face. She wasn’t bold or outspoken and it was rare that she “started” something with anybody, even her brother. On the other hand, this was something she felt strongly about. “No, but I have to defend Beth and Annie’s right to be themselves. They aren’t your clones. They’re little girls.”
A long silence followed until she heard a heavy exhalation through the receiver. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing—trying to make my daughters be like me?”
“I don’t know, but please don’t throw those sleds out before talking to them.”
Nicole was actually more worried about Luke trying to make Beth and Annie into clones of Erika. She couldn’t be sure that was happening, but she also didn’t understand why her nieces were still struggling so desperately with their mother’s death. Fourteen months wasn’t long, but they were young and Erika had been stationed away from Austin for most of their lives. Sad to say, they couldn’t have known her that well.
“If you think it’s important, I’ll ask before I do anything,” Luke said. “I’ve sent the jet back to Austin, so it’s ready for you to fly out. Let the captain know what time you want to take off and he’ll notify the limousine service when to meet the plane.”
“Maybe I should fly commercial and rent a car.”
“Don’t be crazy. This is much more convenient.”
It was convenient, which was part of the problem. Letting her brother smooth the bumps in the road was very easy. Some people didn’t realize how generous he could be. Nicole knew all too well... She also figured she ought to weather more of those bumps without his help.
“I’ll be there soon, at any rate,” she murmured. “Give Beth and Annie my love.”
“Will do. Glad you’re feeling better.”
After saying goodbye, Nicole looked around her condominium. While it was attractive, she had to admit there wasn’t a whole lot of individuality except for the shelves of old movies in her spare room. There hadn’t been any point getting fond of belongings as a kid. Her parents’ roving lifestyle hadn’t lent itself to saving stuffed animals and dolls or other childhood mementos.
Nonetheless, she was a closet sentimentalist. She adored lemon drops because they reminded her of summer. Daffodils were also special. Her father had given her a bouquet of sixteen perfectly made sugar daffodil blossoms for her Sweet Sixteen birthday party. They’d been so pretty she couldn’t bear to eat them, though it hadn’t taken long before they’d crumbled into piles of yellow and green sugar.
Luke hadn’t been kidding about his own lack of sentimentality. He loved his family, but Nicole doubted he’d kept private mementos of Erika, such as receipts from restaurants they’d visited or his boutonniere from the wedding. He and Erika had been alike in that way—too practical to invest emotional value in an inanimate object. After returning from her honeymoon, Erika had even donated her wedding gown to be used by military brides.
Nicole, on the other hand, had carefully dried the roses from her maid of honor bouquet and hung her dress in a protective garment bag in the back of her spare closet. She’d done it reasoning that Luke and her sister-in-law might have children someday who’d want a few keepsakes.
But no matter what she’d told herself, the truth was that the dress and dried flowers were reminders of a day when her brother had looked perfectly happy for the first time in his life.
* * *
CARLIE MANAGED TO slip away from the concert hall fairly soon, though not before she’d seen how differently Annie and Beth each approached making their paper chains.
Beth’s were wild, gaudy with glitter, made with any color that took her fancy. Annie’s color choices were green, red and white in a creative arrangement that included larger and smaller rings. Her sister had pestered her, declaring it needed more color and glitter, so Annie had begun carefully applying a dot of silver glitter to each ring, probably to stop her sister’s nagging.
But she hadn’t looked happy.
Around Poppy Gold, groups of Victorian-garbed carolers were out in force, singing carols such as “Good King Wenceslas” and “Jingle Bells.” It added a lovely mood to the day, spiced by the fragrance of hot cider and other tasty snacks at the treat kiosks.
Poppy Gold didn’t need guests to actually do the decorating, which meant they were all free to enjoy the benefits of kickoff day. Everyone would also receive one of the specialty gift ornaments, which were being placed in their suites.
“Carlie, I need to check with you about something,” called a voice.
She turned and smiled at Gideon Cartwright, the new veterinarian in Glimmer Creek. He’d volunteered to coordinate the farm animals and help set up the living nativity scene they were having every Friday and Saturday night until Christmas. It would be staged in front of the small white church that served as Poppy Gold’s travelers’ chapel.
“What can I do for you, Gideon?”
“I just got a call. Thaddeus Baxter won’t be able to bring his sheep tonight—he’s got pneumonia. I’m going to see if any of my other clients have sheep they’re willing to loan for the evening.”
Carlie was instantly concerned. They’d lost Aunt Meredith from pneumonia. “I hope Thad will be okay.”
“It’s just a mild case and his wife tells me this has convinced him to get the pneumonia vaccine,” Gideon assured her quickly. “But I’m not sure how long it will take to make the calls to other livestock owners in the area and I’m supposed to start my health exams of the VC cats at 10:00 a.m. I haven’t been able to locate either Liam or Tessa to let them know I’ll be late.”
Traditionally Dr. Chevalier had come to the Victorian Cat to give the resident felines their quarterly health checkups, but he’d retired earlier that year. When Gideon had bought the practice, he’d continued the custom, saying it was easier for everybody to spend a morning at the VC examining the cats one after another than to do it at the clinic.
“I’ll tell them,” Carlie promised. “Another Saturday might be better, in any case. The cats must be stirred up with everything going on here.”
Gideon looked rueful. “Probably. I hadn’t realized kickoff day was such a big deal. I’ll do my best to find another pair of sheep for tonight.”
“I appreciate it.”
The living nativity was Carlie’s brainchild. It was the first time they’d had one at Poppy Gold, but she figured everyone would enjoy the event. Even if Gideon couldn’t locate replacement sheep, it would be a nice tableau.
* * *
GIDEON WALKED QUICKLY toward the Poppy Gold parking lot where he’d left his car. He was thoroughly enjoying his move to Glimmer Creek, though after eight years of veterinary practice in Beverly Hills, he’d had to reacquaint himself with horses, cows and sheep. Not to mention llamas, pigs and a small, cantankerous herd of buffalo.
Yet even as pleasure went through him, his mouth compressed. He’d never wanted to live in the city, but had made an agreement with his wife. After qualifying, he would go to work at her father’s exclusive Beverly Hills veterinary clinic for eight years. Then, if he still wanted to be a small-town vet, they’d pack up and move. But when the time came, Renee had flatly refused. Apparently she’d made the agreement never thinking she’d have to keep it, figuring nobody would choose to live anywhere else once they’d had a taste of Los Angeles.
In the end, Gideon realized they’d grown so far apart they really didn’t have a marriage to save.
Back at the office he unlocked the computer and did a search for clients with sheep. Dr. Chevalier had disdained computers, keeping detailed paper records instead. One of the huge jobs still ahead was getting those files entered into the system, but at least Gideon’s office manager had finally gotten the basic data input done on all their current clients. It would have to do for now.
He’d hate to disappoint Carlie. Her enthusiasm about the living nativity was refreshing.
Gideon made a couple of calls and found a teenager involved in the 4-H club who was thrilled to have her two sheep in the living nativity.
He’d just hung up the phone when a handful of mail was dropped through the slot on the door. He sorted through the envelopes until he reached one from Los Angeles.
Inside was his final divorce decree.
CHAPTER FOUR (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
LUKE WAS CONCERNED how the girls would react to the paper-chain-making contest, but since every kid won a prize—for one reason or another—it turned out all right. Beth was triumphant over getting “most colorful,” while Annie appeared quietly pleased with “prettiest use of traditional Christmas colors.”
Every award was “the best” or “the most” or another superlative, and he wondered how long it had taken Carlie or her staff to come up with enough prizes to be sure each child received an accolade of some type.
Once the ceremonies had been completed, the paper-chain-making supplies were moved to a single table and other crafts were set out.
“Look, Carlie is back,” Annie cried and ran across the room, followed by her sister.
Luke watched, wishing his daughters would greet him with that much enthusiasm. They immediately grabbed the activities director by the hand and dragged her to where he sat with a cup of coffee.
Carlie’s cheeks were pink from the cold air outside and he had to admit she was pretty with her blue eyes and long, golden-brown hair. Wholesome. Like a character from a Christmas film where true love triumphs. It wasn’t any wonder the twins gravitated toward her, though Annie’s instant attachment was unusual.
“What are you doing now?” Carlie asked the girls.
“I want to make origami birds,” Annie said, pronouncing the new word with care. She pointed to a table where a woman was demonstrating how to fold paper into different shapes.
“No. That’s dumb,” Beth declared. “Let’s go see how much snow there is.”
Carlie looked at him. “Maybe Annie could learn to do origami while the two of you go out to the sledding hill. There are volunteers here to watch the children.”
Luke hesitated. While marginally quieter now, the room was still busy with kids and adults coming and going. He couldn’t see letting Annie stay by herself, even if someone was specifically assigned to watch her. “Maybe another time. I saw on the schedule that Poppy Gold has another holiday craft workshop next Saturday.”
“Yippee,” Beth cried.
Annie was still hanging on to Carlie’s arm, and Carlie was talking to her in a soft voice. He only caught a few words. “Only if you go, too,” Annie said finally. “But I don’t want to squish my chain.” She held up the gift bag the children had been given to carry their paper chains and other belongings.
“You can put it in my office and come back for it later,” Carlie offered.
“Let’s just go,” Beth implored, hopping impatiently from one foot to the other.
Carlie smiled at her. “It won’t take long and this way you don’t have to carry your bag around.”
“Oookaaay.”
As they stepped outside, Luke asked why the building used for Guest Reception had the words City Hall impressed above the main doors. Was it to add to the village atmosphere?
“It was Glimmer Creek’s original city hall,” Carlie explained when he asked. “James Connor purchased the town’s historic district during the Great Depression, including all the civic structures except the Carnegie library.”
“Sounds like the Connors are one of the early robber-baron families of California.”
Carlie looked annoyed. “Actually, James Connor paid top dollar, donated a boatload of money to the town and allowed residents to live in their homes rent-free for five years. He didn’t buy the property for profit. He did it to preserve history and help Glimmer Creek get through the Depression. Personally, I don’t think the town was properly grateful—they called it Connor’s Folly for decades.”
“Oh.”
“Why did you assume he was out for himself?” she asked.
Luke made a noncommittal gesture, though he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t questioned people’s motives. Growing up, he’d seen too many people taking advantage of others, his parents included. It had made him determined to make a different life and to take care of his sister. Nicole kept saying she needed to take care of herself, but that was nonsense. She was independent. While he’d paid for her college expenses and given her a job, she worked hard and was a terrific computer specialist, in her own right. Nobody could accuse her of being a freeloader.
* * *
CARLIE UNLOCKED HER private office. It was quiet in this part of the building; on such a busy day all available staff members were out, handling various responsibilities.
“Just put your bags on my desk,” she told the twins, who’d gone instantly to look at the decorated tree in the corner, seeming to forget everything else.
The branches were adorned with white lights, delicate crystal icicles and the wild-animal ornaments she’d collected since she was a little girl. Raccoons, squirrels, mountain lions, rabbits, foxes, birds of every variety, mice, deer and other animals adorned the branches and she loved them all. They sat on beds of “snow” as if in their mountain home.
“It’s the bestest tree ever,” Annie said solemnly.
Beth nodded, but Carlie suspected she normally preferred something flashier. That was okay. Sometimes Carlie enjoyed flashy, too, though they tried to keep the decorations at Poppy Gold restrained.
Perhaps the girls would like to have a Christmas tree in their bedroom. Actually, two trees. They could do the decorating and make them as individual as they liked. She scribbled a note and put it on her computer monitor, not wanting to mention it to Luke until she’d collected a selection of ornaments that reflected both Annie’s and Beth’s apparent tastes.
It wasn’t in her job description, of course, which was mostly to entertain the guests. Decorating wasn’t an “activity” like scavenger hunts and hayride parties, but Tessa gave her a lot of leeway. If Carlie saw a way to enhance a guest’s visit, she could act on it without getting permission.
“These must be your parents,” Luke said, looking at a framed photo on the wall, taken shortly before her father’s accident. In it, he was hale and hearty, and looked half the age he did now.
“Yes. Shall we go to the sledding hill?” Carlie prompted.
“Sure.”
When they arrived, she was pleased to see the snowmaking machines were still running and the guys in parkas and heavy gloves were out grooming the slope. A line of kids, both young and old, were queuing at the top in anticipation. There were so many, in fact, that Carlie excused herself to go talk with her uncle about creating a separate snow field for making snowmen.
“Splendid idea,” Uncle Liam said enthusiastically. “We’ve got more than enough snow for sledding today. The water hoses are long enough. We’ll just move the snowmakers over to the open area and hope it stays cold enough for a couple of hours.”
The snowmakers were shifted and Carlie called to see if the local grocery store could deliver a rush order of carrots, prunes and other environmentally friendly items for the snowmen’s features. They promised her everything would be there within twenty minutes.
Before long, the overflow of sledding enthusiasts were making snowmen and women, including Beth and Annie.
“This is what I meant by spontaneous,” Carlie told Luke as she brushed snow from her hair after a trek through the wide circle of snowmakers. While she was trying to sound innocent, a part of her was smug that he’d been present for one of the impromptu events. “Why don’t you help Beth and Annie build their snow person?”
“They probably want to do it alone.”
“Why wouldn’t they want their father to help?”
A mix of emotions flitted across his face. “No reason, I suppose.”
* * *
LUKE APPROACHED HIS DAUGHTERS. It was difficult to acknowledge, even to himself, but he didn’t know if they wanted him around. They were unusually self-sufficient for their age. The evening before he’d asked if they needed help getting ready for bed or for him to read a story, but they’d refused. And that morning they were already dressed and playing a game by the time he came out of his bedroom.
Snow was still shooting out from the machines and the girls were enjoying the artificial blizzard. Annie kept putting her head back and letting the flakes settle on her closed eyelids, while Beth danced around, trying to catch them in her mittens.
The thought flitted through his head that he could have tried renting a ski lodge in Tahoe or somewhere else for the holidays, but he shook it away. They were at Poppy Gold, and though the place wasn’t what he’d expected, it could work out. With that thought, he glanced at Carlie, who was setting out piles of fruits and vegetables for everyone to use creating the snow people’s features. Surely she would become less important to the girls once Nicole arrived.
“Sorry, everyone,” an older man called from the opposite side after another hour. He was the same man who’d signaled for the snowmaking machines to be turned on the night before. “The temperature is starting to rise. We have to shut everything down.”
Almost immediately, silence descended, followed by good-natured groans. Beth stuck out her lip in an undeniable pout and even Annie seemed a bit sulky.
“Okay, let’s build that snowman,” Luke said to them, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I haven’t made one since I was your age.”
He began gathering snow into a mound when Beth fixed him with a stern gaze that reminded him of Erika. “Papa, you have to roll it around. See?” She and Annie demonstrated, rolling a small ball of snow around the white ground. It picked up layers, slowly becoming larger.
“And we’re building a snow girl, not a snowman,” Annie added.
“Oh.” He hid a smile. “I’m glad you told me.”
* * *
BEFORE GIDEON RETURNED to Poppy Gold, he took the divorce decree upstairs to his apartment, glad it had come on a Saturday when the office was closed. Until things settled down more, he was living in one of the two apartments above the clinic. He’d finally gotten a post office box for his personal mail, but he must have forgotten to update his address with the court and his lawyer in Los Angeles.
Intentionally?
He considered the possibility and then shook his head. The divorce bothered him, but it was for the best. He and his ex-wife had never valued the same things and it was hard to base a marriage on such a poor foundation. In their last argument, Renee had even snapped that she’d done her best, but he was still a clod-hopping Nebraska farm boy who didn’t deserve her.
They were just too different. Once she’d thought it was charming that he’d grown up on a farm, while he’d been proud of her stylish sophistication. Now he saw women in designer clothes and wanted to run the opposite direction.
Gideon tossed the paperwork in a drawer.
At least Renee’s parting retort had reminded him that he was proud of who he was and where he’d come from. The only reason he hadn’t returned to Nebraska after Beverly Hills was because of the long winters. Going away to college hadn’t been about changing into a different kind of person. It had been about learning to be the best vet he could be.
Now that his foster parents had sold their farm, he was trying to convince them to move to Glimmer Creek. Helga had asthma and Gideon hoped she’d do better in a milder climate. At the very least he wanted them to come out for a few months to see if they liked it here. That was one of the reasons he’d started looking for a house. Lars and Helga hesitated to accept anything from him, but he might be able to convince them to stay in the apartment above the clinic if it was empty.
* * *
NICOLE PUT HER skates with the other luggage in the foyer of her condominium. Her restlessness and uncertainty had increased after talking to Luke. Granted, he and the twins had only been in California for a day, but she hadn’t liked hearing Annie was tearful in the midst of all the holiday cheer.
Belatedly she remembered she hadn’t packed her digital camera and got even more depressed. Wouldn’t a proper aunt have thought of that first?
She padded up to the spare room and collected her camera and charger, along with a handful of new SD cards, trying to think if there was anything else she might need. From Luke’s description of Glimmer Creek, it might be difficult to get some items and she didn’t want him making an extravagant gesture to get her lip gloss or something.
Laundry soap, Nicole thought. She used an organic, unscented variety. It raised the question of whether there were any laundry facilities at Poppy Gold Inns, or would they need to use a community Laundromat?
She looked up the phone number and called California.
“Poppy Gold Inns. Can I help you?” a man’s friendly voice said.
“I hate to be a bother,” Nicole apologized, “but I’m flying out Monday to stay for a few weeks. I’m meeting my brother and his family, who have already arrived. I wanted to find out if you have any laundry facilities or what other plans I should make. Oh, and is there a dry cleaner in town?”
“There’s a dry cleaner that will pick up and deliver. We also have laundry facilities on-site and a limited number of suites have them, as well. May I ask your name?”
“Sorry—Nicole Forrester.”
“Er, right. Mr. Forrester mentioned your arrival had been delayed. The suite where you’re staying includes a full utility room with a frontload washer and dryer. There’s also a nicely equipped kitchen.”
It was probably her imagination, but something in the man’s tone made Nicole wonder if Luke had made a nuisance of himself. She was the first to admit her brother wasn’t always the most sensitive guy and he liked having things his way.
“I don’t cook, but that sounds wonderful,” she replied brightly. “And I’m sure there are restaurants in town.”
“Yes. A hot breakfast is also delivered each morning from a local caterer. The food is freshly prepared, with a different central dish every day.”
Nicole had stayed at bed-and-breakfast inns where breakfast was little more than Danish and coffee, so she’d wait and see what Poppy Gold actually provided. In the meantime, the tension in the polite conversation was uncomfortable.
“I don’t want to take any more of your time,” she said. “But thank you for the information.”
“Of course, Ms. Forrester. Have a safe trip. Happy holidays.”
“Happy holidays to you, too.” She gratefully hung up the phone.
Anyhow, her questions had been answered, so Nicole packed a supply of laundry soap. She turned around, looking for something else to do, and her gaze lit on the space in front of the window. She’d always put a Christmas tree there the day after Thanksgiving and now she thought the condo was lonely without it.
Even knowing she was being silly, she took her tree out from the storage area under the stairs and assembled it, stringing lights and hanging ornaments. At least she could enjoy the cheerful lights and tinsel until she left.
* * *
THE BEST VANTAGE point for the official “lighting” of Poppy Gold was at the city square park. Carlie had noted the information on the activities sheet for everyone, though most of the regulars already knew. The townspeople of Glimmer Creek knew, as well, and were all welcome to participate.
Of course, not everything was controlled by the master switches. The electric candles in the windows operated by sensors, so they’d turned on when the sun set. The same was true of the lights on the wreaths and assorted other decorations. But lights on the houses, trees and buses would go on when the switches were thrown.
Between the singing and eating and general bonhomie, the park resembled a block party. People were tired and it had been a long day, but the payoff was at 6:00 p.m. when Poppy Gold would go “live” for Christmas.
“Is it soon, Carlie?” asked Beth, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. She looked bright and lively, probably because she and her sister had taken naps that afternoon. Luke had insisted over their protests, saying they needed rest to enjoy the evening events.
Carlie checked her cell phone. “Twenty-five more minutes.
“Did you know your new tutor taught me in first grade?” she asked Beth, hoping to distract her. While the girls were napping, Luke had interviewed Luisa Cabrera and hired her as their tutor.
“Honest?”
“Honest. Mrs. Cabrera was one of my favorite teachers.”
From what Carlie could see of Beth’s expression, she seemed content with the comment, while Annie was harder to read. But they were obviously accustomed to employees in their lives. Their artless chatter throughout the day had included numerous references to their nanny and assorted other household staff.
Erika Forrester hadn’t been mentioned, though that wasn’t necessarily strange since according to what Tessa had said, they were still having trouble dealing with their mother’s death. Carlie hadn’t lost a parent, but she’d come close when her dad was injured. She didn’t know how she would have handled losing him and she was much older than the twins.
“Um, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, her stomach rumbling. She walked over to one of the treat kiosks.
“Hey, Sarah,” she said, seeing her cousin put out a fresh platter of cookies. “You look bushed.”
Sarah chuckled. “That’s the catering business. Sixteen-hour days and never enough sleep.”
“I’m glad it isn’t me—I’m devoted to sleep.” Carlie grabbed an empty cup and stuffed it full of apple wedges and cheese.
“Hey, you’re still here, too,” Sarah pointed out. “And I’m guessing you haven’t eaten all day.”
Carlie grinned. “I had a bagel this morning.” She crunched down a bite of apple, followed by a cheese cube. “Besides, my job is to help people have fun. What could be better than that? Today I was just too busy enjoying myself to eat.”
“We can’t have you passing out from hunger or dehydration.” Sarah held out a cup of warm cider.
Carlie glanced toward the Forresters as she drank thirstily. It wasn’t unusual for certain guests to gobble up a lot of time. Tessa liked the personal touch at Poppy Gold and had given her a staff, so if some guests were more demanding, the others weren’t neglected. Of course, they’d never had a guest stay for six weeks, either.
But Luke had mentioned his sister would be arriving Monday, which meant Annie and Beth should be better occupied. It was just as well. The twins were sweet, but surely they needed family, not a stranger.
After gulping the rest of her apple slices and cheese, Carlie circulated through the crowd of people, chatting and offering reminders about the living nativity that was starting in another forty-five minutes. But she quickly held up her hand when the reporter-photographer from the Glimmer Creek Gazette raised his camera.
“Please, Perry, I don’t want to be in the newspaper. Surely you’d prefer a photo of Uncle Liam or Tessa.”
“I didn’t say anything about putting it in the Gazette.” He winked and took a quick shot. “You were always my dream girl. If I can’t have you, at least I can put your picture under my pillow.”
Carlie laughed. They’d gone to high school together and had even dated as juniors, but she’d never been his dream girl; Perry Fisher enjoyed playing the field too much. Still, he was a fun guy and a volunteer fireman with a reputation for going beyond the call.
“Keep talking, Perry. You’re good for my ego.”
“Does that mean you’ll finally go out with me? How many times have I asked since you came back to Glimmer Creek?”
“I’m just so busy,” she said, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “You know, with everything...”
Perry’s face sobered. “I know. We miss Mike down at the fire department. How is he?”
“About the same.” Her dad had been forced to resign as a volunteer firefighter after his accident. “Why don’t you take pictures of the carolers in their costumes for your article?” she suggested, eager to change the subject. “I’d also love a plug for the living nativity. Remember, every Friday and Saturday night until Christmas, six thirty to nine.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
A few minutes later, she circled around to Annie and Beth and smiled at them. “We’re getting close.”
“I don’t think they believe you,” Luke murmured.
“When you’re six, minutes can seem like hours. By the way, I want to ask you something later.”
He instantly looked suspicious. “I don’t do interviews and the girls are off-limits at all times.”
Carlie blinked, confused. “What makes you think I’d want you to do an interview?”
* * *
LUKE WAS ANNOYED that he’d said the first thing to pop into his mind. “I’ve been watching that photographer, the one with the press badge, and saw you talking to him.”
Carlie’s lips tightened. “I asked him to do extra promotion for the living nativity. It’s a new event and I want it to be a success. An interview was my last thought. For your information, Poppy Gold frequently has high-profile guests. We have an agreement with the Gazette and local radio station to leave them alone. Perry is taking pictures and writing a story about kickoff day. That’s all.”
“Oh.”
“We’ve had much more interesting people stay at Poppy Gold, by the way. I don’t think you need to worry.”
From her flashing eyes, Luke suspected Carlie would have loved to tell him off, but was constrained by her position working for the bed-and-breakfast complex. Not that she’d done a bad job of knocking his ego down a peg with her polite comment about “much more interesting” people staying at Poppy Gold. Luke didn’t mind; honesty was a quality he valued as much as his privacy.
“We’re starting, everyone,” a voice called above the carol singing, which quieted instantly.
A count started in the crowd, reminiscent of Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“Five, four, three, two...”
As the final number rang out, the rooflines, windows and doors of the Victorians were suddenly outlined with strings of lights. The trees lit up a moment later, along with bushes and the poles of lampposts that looked like they were converted gaslights.
Beth and Annie squealed with excitement and clapped their hands. Carlie Benton’s face reflected their blissful pleasure, and even Luke, who wasn’t big on showy displays, thought it was attractive.
Christmas had arrived with a splash at Poppy Gold.
CHAPTER FIVE (#uf3e98621-2c67-52d1-9396-d3997def8eb7)
EARLY TUESDAY MORNING, Nicole got dressed and walked quietly down the stairs of the Yosemite suite. She hadn’t gotten much chance to explore the suite after arriving the previous afternoon and wanted to indulge her curiosity.
She’d taken an architectural history class in college and particularly loved homes from the Victorian period.
From the little Luke had said, she’d expected a pokey set of rooms carved out of the servants’ quarters of an old house. It was nothing of the kind. Everything was lovely. The rooms were spacious—not the size of Luke’s home in Austin, but very nice—with great architectural details. The overall feel was gracious comfort.
Nicole looked out the windows and took in the garden and hillsides beyond. It seemed fitting that the John Muir Cottage was on the edge of town since it was a huge, old Victorian farmhouse.
A faint smile curved her mouth as she thought about the families that must have lived there, expanding the building to accommodate new generations of married children and grandchildren. She hadn’t resented their nomadic childhood the way Luke had, but having a real home with roots was immensely appealing.
Curiously she looked around the kitchen. It was nicer than the one in her condo, but since she didn’t cook, she hadn’t looked for a place with a showcase kitchen and appliances. The real-estate agent had objected, talking about resale value, but Nicole wasn’t worried about that. The condo met her needs and she didn’t expect to get married or sell anytime soon. Dating tended to be casual since she’d discovered that some men felt her connection to Luke Forrester was her biggest appeal.
With the ease of long practice, she pushed the thought from her head. She couldn’t regret being Luke’s sister, but it brought challenges.
A tap sounded on the front door and she remembered Luke mentioning that the catering service delivered breakfast between seven and eight in the morning. She peeked out to be sure it was them and opened the door.
“Hi,” said the woman carrying two insulated containers. “I’m from Sarah’s Sweet Treats Catering Service. I’m a couple minutes early, but I saw the light turn on in the kitchen. May I come in?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Nicole stepped back and the catering employee walked briskly inside. “I’m Nicole Forrester. You’ve probably met my brother and nieces.”
“Yes—cute kids. Did you get in yesterday?”
“Midafternoon.”
“Welcome to Poppy Gold. I’m Mariko Kirahara.” Mariko put the insulated containers on the counter. “Cold items are in the bag with the blue tag and hot in the other. Instructions are on the labels.”
“Don’t you need to take them with you?”
“Nope.” Mariko opened a cupboard door and removed identical bags. “These are from yesterday. The housekeeping staff puts them here for us. Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
Mariko left quickly, probably because she had other food to deliver. Poppy Gold was huge and must provide accommodations for hundreds of guests each day.
After Nicole had arrived the previous day, Luke and the girls had shown her around the Victorian village. The sledding hill and skating rink were huge attractions, along with the lighted historic vehicle parade that occurred each evening.
But Beth and Annie’s greatest excitement had been introducing her to Carlie Benton, the Poppy Gold activities director. Carlie seemed to have instantly inspired pure adoration from the twins.
Nicole sighed and investigated the coffeemaker. It was similar to the one she used at home, so she quickly filled the filter with coffee and poured water into the reservoir. Soon a rich fragrance filled the air.
Mmm. Making coffee was one of the few domestic skills she possessed. When she and Luke had talked late Saturday evening, he’d mentioned that Poppy Gold Inns had their own special blend. His description of “remarkably flavorful” had made her look forward to a taste. Her brother didn’t bestow praise lightly.
There were unopened containers of cream in the fridge and Nicole made her cup rich and sweet. But before she could take a sip, Luke appeared at the kitchen door.
“Did I wake you up?” she asked.
“It wasn’t you. I haven’t slept much since...well, for over a year.” He rubbed his face.
Nicole poured him a cup of coffee and sat in the picturesque breakfast nook, unsure how to respond. His reluctance to say Erika’s name was the reason everyone else danced around it, as well.
Understanding Luke seemed impossible. Maybe part of the problem was the age and experience gap. She was thirty; he was nine years older. By the time she’d started college he was already wealthy and successful. She hadn’t married, while he was a widower with two children. He was fearless; she was practically scared of her own shadow.
Still, even as a child, Luke had kept a piece of himself separate, watchful, as if holding off the world. Perhaps it was because she’d always had him to depend upon, while he’d only had himself. Nicole didn’t count their parents as reliable support; as Luke said often, Craig and Heather had a long way to go before they became responsible adults.
Luke sat down and stared into the steam rising from his cup.
“How late were you up?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I was working. Three or four, probably. Tilly didn’t want to send anything for me to look at, but I insisted.”
Nicole pressed her lips together. Tilly Robinson was probably the only person in the world who would challenge Luke. Sometimes she won, sometimes she didn’t. Nicole envied her, and at the same time was frustrated that somebody else could be closer to Luke than his own family.
“Surely your business interests could survive a few weeks without your spending so much time on them,” she suggested carefully.
“If I can’t sleep, I might as well work,” Luke murmured, still looking only half-awake. “Oh, the tutor started yesterday. She’s coming weekday mornings at eight thirty to work with the girls for a few hours and will stay if we’re out for some reason. Beth and Annie are playing in their room. I’ll call them down for breakfast.”
Wanting to be useful, Nicole set the table and then unpacked the two insulated bags. The food smelled delicious. Everything was out on the table when Beth and Annie appeared and sat quietly. In a sad way it reminded Nicole of her own childhood, when they’d stayed with other families and were expected to be invisible. Luke had rebelled, but she’d learned the lesson all too well.
“Would you like orange juice?” she asked.
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Julianna Morris
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: All he wants for Christmas…Widower Luke Forrester’s fortune can’t buy happiness, but he’s counting on it to give his twin daughters the magical Christmas they deserve at Poppy Gold Inns. Activities director Carlie Benton, with her upbeat seasonal spirit, definitely isn’t impressed by money. She’s all about holiday cheer and he can’t resist.While Luke and Carlie try to restore the sparkle in his kids’ eyes, the heat between them melts the winter chill. And in the season of miracles, anything is possible—including a tempting second chance at love.