Pining Over You

By JN Welsh

Vermont nights might get a little cold, but Sasha Merry has her work to keep her warm. Running the family farm has always been her dream, and this year it's her time to shine. Sasha won't let anything stand in the way of her plans. So when her most valuable employee gets hurt right before Christmas, she will do whatever it takes to prove to her father that she is up to the job, even if it means accepting help from the man who broke her heart.

 

Rodney Chestnut is finally back home in Charlotte, Vermont after years of living the adventurous life he has always dreamed of. Rodney lives his life without regrets, but being back in town, he's face-to-face with his only one—Sasha Merry. There was a time when he owned Sasha's heart, and then he broke it. After years of putting his ambitions first, seeing Sasha again reminds him that he's neglected his heart.

 

Swept up in a blizzard of their old memories, the old flames start roaring immediately. The passions between them have always blazed hot, but the question is, will they be brave enough to take a chance on love or will their dreams lead them on separate paths all over again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JN Welsh
• Release date: Dec 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393481454

JN Welsh

JN Welsh is a native New Yorker. She writes entertaining, often humorous, and provocative tales about strong, career-driven, multicultural heroines of color who are looking for love. Her punchy, flowing dialogue and big city stories are heartwarming and stick to your ribs. She is a wellness warrior especially for writers and is passionate about practicing mindfulness for body and spirit through a holistic approach to self-care, routines and rituals. When she’s not writing she can be found dancing, wine-ing, rooting for her favorite baseball team, and/or indulging in countless guilty pleasures.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sasha Merry groaned at the sound of All I Want for Christmas is You. She thudded down the light gray carpeted staircase, certain she was the only somebody who couldn’t wait for the Mariah Carey song to end, only to have it repeat two songs later on the radio station her mother played.

She snagged a cookie from the cooling rack on the kitchen counter. Her mother had been baking and listening to music in the kitchen that morning, and the whole house smelled like baking chocolate. If Sasha was going to have to listen to Mariah not wanting a lot for Christmas for the seventh time today, she could at least listen to it while eating a cookie.

They’re still hot, her mother warned.

Sasha bit into the soft gingerbread. The spiced chocolate filling burned her tongue numb, and her fast, open-mouthed chews did little to cool the steam rising from her mouth. Why didn’t you tell me they were still hot? she asked. She smiled big at her mom.

Already a floury mess, Melody Merry put her hand on her one hip and with pursed lips pinned Sasha with a, Girl, you better not even, look. "Take a few for your father and uncle, please. They should be perfect by the time you get to East Meadow.

Where are your two other minions? Sasha’s sisters could often be found by their mom’s side aiding with food prep and baking for their shop.

Breonna is at Mrs. Tizel’s house helping out with the last details for the cookie exchange, and Angela is in town securing the contributions for the Christmas dance. Especially mistletoe that the florist ships in from North Carolina. Her mother grinned. Who knows, maybe some dashing gentleman will catch you underneath the many flowers we plan on putting up this year.

Sasha almost threw up in her mouth. The lack of beau was fine by her book but her mom wanted her to be boo-ed up, especially during the holidays. Sasha had dated over the years, but no one ever made it past a couple of months and definitely not long enough for the Christmas dance.

Sasha used to love the dance, back when it felt more like a community affair and less like Christmas prom. The main holiday event had her family and most of her town of Charlotte, Vermont regressing to middle school and high school, all the way down to the holly corsages. For Sasha, the dance posed as another way to evaluate her marital status for the year.

You gonna put on a dress this time or come in your lumberjack clothes again this year? Her mother side-eyed her.

Did you forget the twinkle light catastrophe that I had to fix last year to ensure that you all had your slow dance ambiance? I didn’t get a chance to change. Nor had Sasha tried to. She would have much rather slipped away to sit on the crest of Lovers’ Rock, the highest peak on The Merry’s one hundred and forty acres. It was the best spot to be at twilight to watch the delicately falling snow land on the tree needles and branches. Honestly, she always found things to fix and fuss with at the dance, just to keep herself unavailable for anyone to try and introduce her to their cousin from downstate.

Listen little miss, Melody Merry said, wagging one floured hand. I want dress, hair, and heels this year.

Heels? Sasha gasped at the punishment. We live on a farm. The dance is in the barn. That’s not practical, Mother Merry.

Young lady, you know better than to call me that, her mother said. Her mother hated the nickname that Sasha and her sisters used. The thing was, it rolled off their lips and sometimes they used the nickname just to needle their mom when she nagged or meddled. You heard me, daughter.

I ain’t wearing no damn heels, Sasha mumbled all the way to the door.

I’m sorry, what was that? her mother challenged.

Nothing. Sasha turned until she was positive her mother couldn’t see her face, then rolled her eyes. She zipped up her jacket in preparation for her outdoor excursion.

That’s what I thought. Even the last bite of her mother’s divine cookie couldn’t relieve the stress of feminine expectation her mother slapped on her. At least she had two weeks until the dance. Until then there were Christmas trees to sell and other less oppressive events to help organize and attend.

I’ll see you later. I have to stop by the mill this morning before collecting the trees to sell in town this week. Sasha placed her hand on the handle.

Don’t forget you need to take me into town to pick up some supplies while the girls are busy today, her mother reminded.

The girls. Sasha was a girl, too, even if she was twenty-four years old. Because she wasn’t the kind of girl that baked in the kitchen, knitted, and quilted like it was an extreme sport or made herself up daily the way her older and younger sisters did, she always felt a bit on the outs.

Yep, Sasha returned. I’ll see you after lunch.

Be safe, her mother said. Bad enough I have to worry about one of my daughters out there in the woods.

Sasha’s shoulders tightened. I will. Sasha did what she always did when her family used her way of being against her. She fled to nature.

As she marched to her truck, the light snow crunched beneath her logger boots. Her nose estimated the temperature hovered somewhere around the mid to low forties and she pulled her gloves out of her pocket. The car had been warmed from her 5:00am morning rounds, but with the cool temps, she let the engine run for a couple minutes to heat up again, and herself to cool down from her mother’s remark. She’d been a hands-on farmer for years now and still her mother made her feel less of a woman because she didn’t don an apron. Sasha tried to shake the disappointment out of her bones. With the farm in full swing, she moved on to her other work. Planning for next year and taking over the farm.

Sasha arrived at their mill office to the buzzing sounds of cutting mechanical blades and the woodsy fragrance of sawdust. She located her father talking outside on the office patio, up the stairs, with a logger. Fall had claimed the leaves on many of the surrounding trees, however the thriving evergreens indicated the season. All were in need of more snow to brighten the cloudy day.

Hey, Pinecone, Quintin Merry greeted her from his perch at the mill office. The tree house office offered an extended view of the pine, firs, spruces, and other tree varieties. Many of which Sasha could identify by age, since she’d been planting seeds and saplings since she could walk.

Hi, Daddy. How’s it going? The wood stairs creaked under her weight as she ascended.

Can’t complain, her father said, which translated to, ‘everything’s running smoothly.’

Here you go. She handed her father the cookies her mother had sent.

Oh. I sure do love these ones she makes. Her father popped a cookie in his mouth, a few crumbs landing on his salt and pepper beard.

They are pretty yummy. Sasha looked around. Where’s Uncle Bobby?

Last time I saw him, he and Pops headed out to Evergreen Valley to layout the land for next season’s trees.

Sasha shifted her weight and though stuffed inside her jacket, managed to cross her arms. Her grandfather and uncle went off on their adventures into the wilderness without her. Daddy… Her stern I mean business tone was just the beginning of her complaint. I thought we agreed that this year I’d take the lead role on the farm.

We did, but you know how those two get when the air is crisp and the sun is out, her father said.

She scoffed. That’s not a valid excuse. How else are you, Pops, and Uncle Bobby going to see what I can do if you all keep doing things without me?

It’s only a preliminary look, sweetheart. Don’t be too upset. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm. It’s just old habit.

Sasha’s shoulders slumped. She’d done tree planting with each of the Merry Men or other farm hands, but with every outing she learned something new. The more she learned, the more creative she got with how to expand and grow the farm. Now if only she could get the patriarchs of the family to get on board and let her run things more.

When she didn’t respond, he nudged her with his arm. Just explain to them what you want when they’re eating your mother’s cookies. He winked.

Daddy. She groaned. Not funny.

You can always meet them out there, he suggested.

She fanned him off. I don’t want to take two trucks out. Plus I have tons to do here. Sasha stretched her hands into her work gloves in preparation to cut and gather the trees she needed take into town. How do we look?

A little slower with such a warm season, but it’ll pick up with the snow in the forecast. It’s just taking our customers a little longer to get movin’ but they’ll come on through, even if it’s last minute, to get their Merry trees.

And what do you think you’re doing? she asked as he wrestled into a tree harness.

You see that branch up there? He tapped her chin with a gloved hand to drag her eyes away from the tree crampons on his feet that he used on trails and to climb. He pointed upward about three stories on a five-story pine. It’s been damaged since that rain storm the other day and before it falls and hurts someone, I’m gettin’ it.

Oh no you don’t. Her father wasn’t an old man, but he wasn’t a young man either. With some of the lumberjacks on deck, he could easily ask someone else to climb up the massive tree with a saw and handle the break for him. Why don’t you just get someone else to do it, or wait and I’ll do it when I come back from town?

And miss out on a little adventure? Nah, girl. This is my farm, and some maintenance is the least I can do while I still got these muscles you see here. Her father flexed his forearms and she couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness.

Be careful, she said, then checked the harness strength by pulling on the tightly woven straps.

When your uncle comes back, he’ll be chopping some lumber for a delivery to The Chestnuts. I know how you love to visit their lodge, especially during the holidays.

She did. Edmond and Layla Chestnut’s lodge had become a safe place for her, especially with the absence of their son, Rodney. She could always guarantee being part of a Chestnut Christmas without the pain and rejection that came with seeing him. She’d reclaimed so much in his absence.

This year, she’d finally show the folks of Charlotte that she could run the farm just as well as the Merry men and develop the areas she’d dreamed about since the first college class of her agriculture degree. She’d spent the last few years cranking up her activity on the farm to demonstrate her seriousness to her family, studying every aspect of the business and performing every task from top to bottom until they were second nature. She thought her grandfather, father, and uncle agreed she’d take the helm this year, but with her family doing their own thing, she was the only one following through on that deal. She had to show them she was ready to take more of a lead role and update Merryville farming with some 21 st century farming techniques. Now if only she could get them to ease off the bit and let her gallop onward.

I’m going to take a look at these stacks and then I’m headed to East Meadow to check on the saplings.

Don’t forget to set up a couple trees in the barn. We’ll need those for the dance, her father reminded. I heard the Honor boy is still sweet on you. Maybe you two can go to the dance.

The frown that already ached her face intensified. Sasha wished she hadn’t lost her virginity to Calvin Honor, not because he hadn’t delivered what she’d kind of expected, but because he stayed in Charlotte. She and Calvin had only dated for a short time yet he was yet another dating ghost, from Christmas past, her father couldn’t help himself from conjuring. Now you know that matchmaking is not your lane, Daddy. It’s bad enough Mommy wants me to go all dressed up. That’s where I draw the line.

I’m just offering a suggestion, Pinecone. Her father’s chuckle reminded her of what she always thought Santa Claus should sound like and it warmed her heart despite his meddling.

If you see Uncle Bobby, tell him to wait for me before he heads to the lodge.

You got it, Boss. Her father winked at her but she really liked the sound of his words.

Quintin Merry was the chief and his brother was second in command. Presently, Sasha felt like the boss in theory regardless of the fact that Sasha managed the farm with them. Her Pops was retired, but she had learned a lot from her