Santa’s Wish Fulfilled: A Dickens Holiday Romance, #12

By Jan Scarbrough

Last Christmas, Santa made a wish… 

Last Christmas Roz Henry lost her boyfriend and her job. With her beloved grandfather sick, she went home to the small New England town of Dickens. She'd found what she didn't know she was looking for: a second chance with the boy she'd left behind all those years ago, Cooper Brown. A widower, Cooper had never forgotten his first love. Christmas brings rekindled romance and a proposal, just like a perfect Hallmark movie. But what happens after the happily-ever-after ending? 

 

This Christmas, Santa's wish is fulfilled… 

A year has passed but Roz still hasn't started planning the wedding, and Cooper's starting to worry. Roz is, too. Is it just cold feet? Worry she's not living up to her potential? Roz comes from a long line of selfless medical professionals, so what's she doing working in a bookstore? She wants to be more than a housewife and mother, even though that life made her Grandma Tress happy. Her grandfather believed love never dies, but can it wither away from neglect? Roz loves Cooper, but she needs to be her own person first. Maybe a real happily-ever-after takes hard work, a lot of love, and some special Dicken's Christmas magic. 

 

This is a small-town, sweet Christmas romance. It can be read as a standalone but features cameo appearances of characters written by other authors in the Dickens Holiday Romance series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saddle Horse Press
• Release date: Nov 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781734371451

Jan Scarbrough

Whether it is the Bluegrass of Kentucky, the mountains of Montana, or Medieval England, Jan Scarbrough brings you home with romances from the heart. Jan Scarbrough is the author of two popular Bluegrass series, writing heartwarming contemporary romances about home and family, single moms and children. Living in the horse country of Kentucky makes it easy for Jan to add small town, Southern charm to her books and the excitement of a Bluegrass horse race or a competitive horse show. Leaving her contemporary voice behind, Jan has written paranormal gothic romances: Tangled Memories, a Romance Writers of America (RWA) Golden Heart finalist, and Timeless. Her medieval romance, My Lord Raven is a story of honor and betrayal. A member of Novelist, Inc., Jan self-publishes her books with the help of her husband. She has published 26 romances. Jan lives in Louisville, Kentucky, with one rescued dog, one rescued cat, and a husband she rescued 23 years ago. When she isn't writing, she loves to ride American Saddlebred horses, drive grandchildren to activities, and volunteer with Alley Cat Advocates. There is nothing she enjoys more than curling up with a good book. Subscribe to Jan’s monthly newsletter and receive a free eBook.https://janscarbrough.com/contact/

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Last Christmas, Santa made a wish…

Rosalind Henry stood in front of the female director’s desk in HR. Her boss Frank stood with his back to her looking out the window of the twenty-story Chicago office building.

You’ve heard about the corporate cutback? the director asked.

Yes, I’ve heard some rumors. Roz’s voice was shaky. Surely, the layoffs wouldn’t affect her. She knew she was a valued member of the marketing team. She clutched her hands together in front of her, trying to still the tremors vibrating through her body.

I suspected you had. As much as Management has tried to keep morale high through this economic crisis, there has been some negative information circulating. Because of the economy, we are forced to cut costs. Unfortunately, we have to reduce our workforce by ten percent. The director glanced at Roz’s boss. Marketing will be eliminating your position.

You mean Mr. Smith is firing me? How could the company eliminate her? She had singlehandedly saved the Collins account. If anyone should go, it should be her boss. He had been the one who had put the account in jeopardy. Well, if this was payback for her making him look bad, then she would sure as heck let him know she knew what motivated his decision. Does this have something to do with how he almost lost the Collins account?

Frank Smith stiffened but didn’t turn to answer her question.

No, the HR director said. This is simply a corporate matter. Each department must eliminate a number of positions based on department census and company need. Frank thought your position could be easily managed by the rest of the staff. You will, of course, be given severance pay and the company has contracted with a consulting firm to help you find a new job.

I see. When is my last day? I have several projects I’d like to finish up before I leave. Roz had been in other jobs where she’d been given two weeks to a month before leaving.

There is no need to spoil the upcoming holidays with work. Your other team members can finish up your projects. Today is your last day. As soon as you can box up your personal effects, my assistant will help you carry them to your car. You will, of course, be paid for the full day.

The shock of the director’s statement roiled through Roz like an earthquake. Brown boxed. Fired. Terminated. Laid off. It all amounted to the same thing. She was out of a job. Crap! What was she to do now? It was the middle of December. No one hired this late in the year. Most companies in her field were already on holiday hiatus until after the New Year.

She fought back tears, straightened her shoulders, and marched from the room.

Three of her co-workers helped her pack the stuff from her desk while the HR assistant hovering in the background tried to make herself invisible. Roz couldn’t blame the woman for being uncomfortable. A few other employees had been canned also, but Roz was the only one from her department, and her coworkers were not being discreet how they felt about it.

As she sorted through the myriad of papers, pictures, and books littering her desk, she vowed to never again keep personal belongings at work.

After her friends lugged the boxes downstairs to the parking garage, she’d hugged them, and they’d gone back to work. Roz slid into the driver’s seat of her car and sat shell shocked behind the steering wheel. What else could go wrong?

Just then her phone pinged indicating an instant message had arrived. She picked up her phone and saw the message was from her boyfriend Justin. She breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, something positive in a truly horrible day. She tapped open the message.

So sorry to spring this on you like this, Roz, she read, but we‘re through. You’re a great gal, but I’ve met someone I like better. We’re going to Paris for Christmas. Seemed like a better offer than visiting your lamo grandparents. Hope you have a great life! Bye.

What! That jerk Justin was dumping her in an instant message. And today of all days! She leaned her head against the wheel and squeezed out a couple tears of self-pity. Well, screw him. There were better fish in the sea as Grandma Tress always said.

She suppressed the urge to send back a scathing reply and instead tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. What she needed now was a large glass of wine, a box of chocolates, and a few minutes to think. This wasn’t the end of the world, much as it felt like it. She’d mended a broken heart more than once before and found better jobs than she’d left. She could do it again. This might be the incentive she needed to finally take control of her life, to stop letting life make decisions for her.

Roz turned on the ignition, backed her car from the parking space, and headed home. Just like Scarlet O’Hara, she’d worry about today tomorrow. She’d made plans to visit her grandparents this Christmas in Dickens, the small New England town where they lived, and she’d not change them just because her life was in the toilet. Her grandfather was sick. Her own parents were out of the country. Reconnecting with her roots after so many years away might be what she needed to reevaluate the direction of her life going forward.

At that moment, an image of a brown-haired boy running hand-in-hand with her under a night sky brightly lit with stars filled her mind. Cooper Brown! Why would she think of him now? She hadn’t thought of him in years. Cooper had lived next door to her grandparents. Roz spent every summer with them until she left for grad school. Back in the day, she and Cooper had been an item. She’d heard he’d married, but she didn’t know whether he still lived in town.

She revisited the image of Cooper. Goodness, he had been a cutie, and she had liked him so much. As children they’d been inseparable, promising they would remain friends forever. She hadn’t been kind, though, when she broke up with him. Was this karma finally catching up with her? Did she think of him because of the parallel between the cavalier way Justin dumped her and how she’d broken Cooper’s heart so many years ago? Was this the universe’s way of telling her that apologizing to Cooper might be the first step towards putting her life back in order?

Dickens looked like an old-fashioned postcard or the set of a Hallmark Christmas movie with its historic town common festively decorated for the holidays. City staff had festooned the gazebo with white lights and huge evergreen wreaths and decorated a pine tree with bright, colorful lights and a white star topper. A statue of a town founder stood proudly in the middle. Roz drove her Honda around the common and headed toward Victoria Street where her grandparents lived.

Growing up, she’d spent most of her summers with Tress and Ken Henry, because her physician parents left their practice every year to go on medical mission trips. Her grandparents had been her lifeline. She could always count on them, but not so much her parents whose minds were fixed on saving the world, not raising their only child.

A flush of resentment caused Roz to swallow hard as she drove down the picturesque town streets. She’d gotten over her parents’ selfishness, accepting that’s the way they were. At least, she’d told herself she’d gotten over it. Now, when she could use their support, they were thousands of miles away in some sub-Saharan African country curing the sick at a medical clinic. She’d be selfish herself, if she faulted them for it.

When she arrived at her grandparents’ house, she noticed a plumber’s panel truck parked in the gravel driveway almost up to the detached garage. Roz pulled in behind it. She was early. Three days early to be exact. Grandma Tress wouldn’t expect her, so Roz thought it best to ring the front doorbell. She didn’t want to startle the old woman by walking in unannounced. Maybe she should have called in advance, but she’d been so upset that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. She’d just thrown a few things in her suitcase and got on the road.

Her grandparents’ home was a two-story clapboard house, built in the1900’s, with a pitched roof and a front porch right on the street. She and Grandpa Henry used to sit side-by-side in the porch swing and count cars as they came down the street. The old porch swing was gone now, a relic of hot summer days long ago.

Her grandmother came at the sound of the ringing bell and drew the door open. My goodness, Rosalind! You’re early.

I had time off, Roz said, not wanting to admit she’d been fired—or laid off as she’d been told.

I’m so glad to see you!

Pulled into Grandma Tress’s arms, Roz felt how frail the gray-haired woman had become. She still wore her hair long and parted down the middle, like her hippie days, and a loose-fitting print dress decorated with yellow daisies.

Mrs. Henry, you’re going to need a new disposal. A man came around the corner out of the dining room and into the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Cooper. Roz dropped her arms as her grandmother turned around. Her gaze met Cooper’s for a long sober moment. He nodded. Then he focused on Grandma Tress. One mystery solved. Cooper still lived in town. Maybe she would get a chance to put things right.

Oh, dear! Grandma Tress threw up her hands. And the family is coming for Christmas Eve dinner.

For some reason, her grandmother had lost the self-assurance Roz remembered. She stood there now, wringing her hands, as if she couldn’t make a decision.

No worries. I’ll go buy a new one. I can install it this afternoon.

Oh, would you, Cooper? It would take such a load off my mind.

Cooper smiled. I’ll be right back, Mrs. Henry. He slipped past Roz without a word. She caught a whiff of his musk aftershave as he walked by. Obviously, he was still carrying a grudge.

Cooper had been gone only a few seconds when he came back. Your car is blocking my truck. His voice was matter-of-fact.

Of course, it was. I’m sorry. I’ll move it.

She still held her key fob, so she followed him out into the cold. The frost on her breath reminded her of his reception. She could at least speak to him.

I’m glad to see you, Cooper. How’s it going?

He paused at his truck door and glanced back at her. She saw the tenseness around his mouth. I guess you haven’t heard.

Heard what?

My wife died of breast cancer last year.

Her hands fell to her sides, and her stomach tightened. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.

Cooper shrugged and silently climbed into his truck. Roz could do nothing but scramble into her driver’s seat and back out of the driveway, letting him out. She drove back in, all the way up to the garage door. She sat there a moment, her hands remaining on the steering wheel.

Obviously, Cooper hurt so much that his wife’s death clouded his life. His tragedy suddenly made her problems seem miniscule. Could she do something to help him? After all, they used to be friends. Very good friends.

You’ll find a big change in your grandfather, Grandma Tress said, ushering Roz through the large eat-in kitchen still stuck in the 1970s with green Formica countertops and white appliances and into an enclosed back porch with a slate floor.

Grandpa Henry sat in his usual comfy blue rocking chair and faced the blaring big-screen television. Roz’s pulse picked up. She leaned in, moving closer to her grandfather.

Your parents think it’s too much for me to take care of Ken. Grandma Tress paused, looking down at her husband of fifty years. Her voice sounded sorrowful. His dementia is getting worse, and with my bad heart, I suppose they’re right. But I made them wait until after Christmas before we moved him.

Grandpa didn’t look up but stared blankly at an old Western movie. Cowboys chased across the screen, guns blazing, the dramatic action music at a volume that hurt her ears. Roz knew her parents had made arrangements for Grandpa to go to a memory care