If Snowflakes Were Forever: MacLeod's Cove

By Luanna Stewart

Jillian Sinclair's usual Christmas glee is missing in action. Not to be defeated, she packs a few treasured ornaments and heads to a rented cottage. On a beach. In the middle of winter. Perfect for sitting near a crackling fire, thinking deep thoughts, and answering important questions. Like, should she quit her job selling cars to become a travel writer? Should she eat all the cookies the first night? Should she sleep with the gorgeous guy next door?

 

Famous author Patrick Evans has problems of his own, namely finish his next book before he misses his deadline, again. His house beside the ocean is supposed to provide solitude, an escape from painful memories. It's not supposed to be invaded by a beautiful but annoying woman with crazy, fun, sexy ideas.

 

Just a brief holiday romance, right? Jillian will head off on an adventure and never look back. And Patrick will finish his book, alone in his big, lonely house.

Exactly what they both want, right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luanna S. Nau
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781999246259

Luanna Stewart

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. She spends her days writing spicy contemporary romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and historical romance. When not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious. She lives in Nova Scotia with her patient husband, one spoiled cat, and five hens.

Book preview

Chapter One

Jillian Sinclair jiggled her foot, her patience evaporating faster than a raindrop in the desert. The work portion of the sales meeting at Three Coves Auto Group had been completed, now the team was discussing holiday plans. Normal for the last full work day before the short holiday break, but the least interesting topic under the circumstances.

She met Angela’s gaze and shared a synchronized eye roll. It seemed neither of them gave a rat’s ass about whether Jimmy had to put up with his in-laws or if DeeDee resented having to listen to her blowhard cousin.

Jill checked her phone for what must have been the hundredth time. The surgeon hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t emailed. Assuming Dr. Calder would be taking time off like everyone else, there weren’t many minutes left in the day to get the news Jill needed to get.

If she had to wait until the New Year, she’d have no fingernails left.

Her phone buzzed atop the conference table. She grabbed it, mouthed ‘I have to take this’ to Angela, and dashed to her office. She sucked in a lungful of hope and jabbed the green button. Hello Doctor Calder...

Her knees became liquid and she sank into her chair. Not melanoma. Thank you, thank you, thank you. She touched the tender area on her shoulder. It’s a little sore and tight... No, the colour is good... Thank you. Happy holidays to you as well.

Jill ended the call, closed her eyes, and sucked in a deep, quivering breath. She’d been sleepwalking since the surgery, convinced the news would be bad. Heck, aside from putting up a tree, she hadn’t even decorated for Christmas, the highlight of her year. Now her life could get back to normal, and she could look to the future. At only thirty-five, she counted on living another fifty years.

Except another fifty years of this life would be depressing. Every day the same, no real adventure. Ugh.

A month ago, when her business partner Gerald recognized she’d been phoning it in, going through the motions of running the shop, he offered to buy out her half of Three Coves Auto. Some days it was a bad idea. But other days, like today, it was the best idea since sticky notes.

Way back in time when bucket lists were all the rage, she’d filled an entire page in her journal with things she wanted to accomplish, like more travel, trying her hand at baking bread, and more travel. All these years later, the only item crossed off the list was a purple streak in her hair that had grown out months ago.

Pathetic.

With the good news from Dr. Calder, maybe now was the time to cut loose and take a risk.

Who was she kidding? After the holidays, she’d be back here selling cars, waiting for the perfect moment. Perfect moments didn’t exist. And it was impossible to schedule accidents and illnesses. She should use her week off to set actual goals with actual deadlines.

She tapped her manicured nails, scarlet with tiny snowflakes, on the desk. Except her house in MacLeod’s Cove was next door to Katherine’s. Her closest friend had three parties planned to celebrate both the holidays and finding the love of her life. Katherine often said she was so happy she’d burst if she didn’t share her joy.

No, Jill needed to get completely away. Not far since she only had a week, but definitely away.

She pulled up a vacation rental website and found one house available, starting tomorrow, Christmas Eve. Kingsburg was less than an hour’s drive from home. She clicked through the photos of the small cottage on the beach and could easily imagine long, bracing walks, reading beside a cosy fire, sipping a hot toddy - once she learned how to make one. She sent an email to the owners and crossed her fingers.

---

Not having heard yay or nay about the cottage all afternoon, Jill checked her email again the second she got home. She breathed a sigh of relief at the confirmation for the rental. Hallelujah.

After she sent quick emails to her sister and two brothers letting them know her plans for Christmas, she changed out of her work clothes, grabbed a gift bag, and popped next door. Katherine was in her kitchen, of course. A professional pastry chef by training, and owner of the Pasta Perfecto factory by default, she was always cooking or baking. Merry Christmas Eve eve.

Same to you. Katherine offered a plate of cookies. How was work?

Insane and boring, the usual. Jill nibbled at the soft ginger cookie, buttery and spicy, then finished it in two bites. Damn, woman, you are a danger to us dieters.

You don’t need to diet, silly.

That’s because I’m always dieting. Jill eyed the cooling racks filled with cookies and cakes and other treats. Several pots were bubbling atop the six-burner stove. Are you cooking for an army?

Ha! Just about. Mom called. She and Claude will be here after all.

How long until the nuptials?

They’re being coy about their plans. Katherine gave a quick stir to two of the saucepans. They’re in Halifax now and will drive down tomorrow.

Amazing turn of events.

"Caught me by surprise. Katherine pulled a pan of empty tart shells from the oven. I figured Claude was the latest in the long line of intimate friends, but I guess it’s true love. You should see the ring. I’m surprised she can lift her hand."

What’s the age difference again?

Katherine laughed. He’s five years older than me.

Sheee-it. But also, good for her!

She sounds happy.

Who wouldn’t be, with a young hunk spoiling you rotten. The pictures of his Paris apartment had filled Jill with genuine envy. The pictures of the man – total man-candy. Too bad she hadn’t met him first.

Pop over tomorrow before the party to meet him and say hi to Mom.

Actually, something’s come up and—

What’s his name? Katherine began emptying the dish rack. You can invite him along, too.

Of course Katherine would jump to that conclusion. Jill had broken their girl-dates a time or two when a new guy appeared on the scene. The relationships were always short-lived, though. She was too set in her ways, too unused to compromise, for anything lasting. I heard from the surgeon.

Katherine dropped the cookie sheet she’d been drying, and it clanged on the tiled floor. You said it was a routine—

I didn’t want you to worry.

I’m worried now. What’s going on?

It was a type of skin cancer. They got it all, I’m in the clear. She touched her shoulder. But it got me thinking.

Damn it, Jill, why didn’t you tell me it might have been cancer? Katherine put the cookie sheet into the sink to be washed again. Jill would have given it a quick swipe with the cloth or blown off the invisible dirt.

The whole not wanting you to worry thing I mentioned. She gave Katherine a hug. No sense both of us being miserable. I’ll need to be monitored every six months, that’s all.

Katherine dumped another pile of dirty bowls, spatulas and mystery utensils in the sink. Next time, you tell me.

I promise.

So you can’t come over because…

Jill explained her need for solitude. Deep thinking will be impossible if I stayed here, especially when the most handsome man in all of Europe arrives. I rented a cottage in Kingsburg. She went on to describe the cottage’s amenities.

Sounds like a lovely way to spend the holidays. I didn’t know those places were available in the winter.

Most aren’t, and this one won’t be after next week. I got lucky. Or it’s fate.

Ooh, yeah, and you’ll meet your one true love while freezing your nose and fingers and toes off on the beach.

Jill laughed. I suspect I won’t see another human, which I’m looking forward to. She handed the gift bag to Katherine and gave her another hug. Merry Christmas, buddy. Don’t open it as soon as I leave.

Oh, wait. Katherine dashed out of the kitchen, returned a moment later, and handed a gift-wrapped box to Jill. This may come in handy while you’re away. More of that fate stuff. She peaked inside the gift bag. My family had the tradition of opening one gift before bed on Christmas Eve, and I’ll choose yours.

Ours had the same tradition, but since the only gifts under the tree at that point were from grandparents and aunts, I had to pretend to be happy about a new hat or a pair of socks.

Same. Let me fill a plate with some of these cookies. Katherine opened a cupboard.

Please, no. I’ll eat them before I get half way across the yard.

Okay. Text me when you get to the cottage and send a photo or two.

Will do. I’ll be back in time for your New Year’s Eve bash. With a quick wave, she hurried home to pack, eager to start mapping out a more exciting future.

---

The next morning, as sunlight streamed through the windows, Jill sorted the luggage, tote bags, and assorted storage boxes while checking her list. Now that it was Christmas Eve, she needed a decoration on the Balsam fir that filled the air with the fragrance of the season. She rummaged through the ornament box, unwrapped the small angel holding a lamb, and hung it on a branch at eye level. Her mom had gifted all the kids with an ornament every year, and this was the last, given a month before she died. Jill would hang the other thirteen when she got back.

The welcome letter from the cottage owners noted that holiday decorations were in a box in the cupboard under the stairs. She’d take some of her own, as well, to festoon the rooms with a good dose of glitz and sparkle. Then the cottage would feel a tiny bit like home.

On the way out of town, she filled the gas tank and picked up groceries, including plenty of fresh veggies. She needed to be healthy and strong for the next chapter in her life.

The skin cancer scare had been the final feather on the scales of life. She didn’t want to wake up on her ninety-fifth birthday to find time had run out. The mindfulness course she bought and downloaded months earlier, and had yet to attempt, was supposed to help uncover the person hidden beneath the man-crazy, fashion-obsessed, party girl. This week would be devoted to mining for her true self.

The final stretch of road ran between barren fields and