Heart of Christmas Cookies & Dreams

By Wendy Kendall

Liz buried her hopes three years ago when she buried her husband. Her dream to run her own bakery? Shelved, along with dreams of love. She hides behind a corporate desk, struggling for time with her young son and his grandmother, Violet.
George is chef at the assisted living facility where Violet recovers from an accident. His adopted beagle, Phil is George's only family, and a therapy dog for the residents.
Violet plays matchmaker, plotting a cookie bake at the facility kitchen. Her plans put George's job at risk.
When tail-wagger Phil suddenly disappears, George is desperate to find him. The search leads George into a surprising twist of fate, and accidentally pulls Liz along with him.
Together can they discover the heart of Christmas, and find the ribbons of love that run through it?

• Language: Unknown
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Dec 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781509245871

Wendy Kendall

The result of Wendy Kendall's passion for purses, mystery and romance is the intriguing In Purse-Suit Mysteries. Kat Out of the Bag introduces Katherine Watson purse designer/sleuth. As Kat moves from designer bags to body bags, she's uncovering clues to a murder. The prequel, Purse-Stachio Makes A Splash delves into a chilling cold case. The romantic suspense, Snow Kiss Cookies To Die For creates a tangle of mystery and love and raises suspicions about Desiree's romantic new sweetheart, Leo. A summer read that will keep you on the edge of your beach towel, Cherry Shakes In The Park blends danger, divas, and frothy delights. Wendy enjoys investigating the Pacific Northwest life, and she leaves a trail of her own clues as a blogger, YouTube podcaster, speaker, project manager, and syndicated columnist.

Book preview

George laughed. Your daughter is a whirlwind.

She gave him a warm look, nothing like her daughter’s. Liz, a whirlwind? George, life can be a hurricane that rushes in with a front throwing your hopes and plans in every direction. When that happens, destroying dreams, changing everything, starting again not only takes courage but also help from others. Are you in a hurry to get home tonight? She pointed to the chair. Would you stay and let me tell you about Liz?

Spurred by curiosity, he didn’t debate whether to stay. Nothing waited for him at home. Nothing ever did. I’m happy to sit with you.

She tasted the soup as he pulled the chair closer. Delicious. You’re an amazing chef.

Her sincerity touched him, and George felt himself blush for the second time that night. Phil laid down.

Violet ate more of her soup then paused and met his gaze. Now, let me tell you a tale of two Lizes.

Heart of Christmas Cookies & Dreams

by

Wendy Kendall

Christmas Cookies Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Heart of Christmas Cookies & Dreams

COPYRIGHT © 2022 by Wendy Kendall

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Edition, 2022

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-4587-1

Published in the United States of America

Dedication

To my dear sons Alex Riggs and Brad Riggs

And with thanks to Brad for his original cookie recipe

To George.

It may not be his story, but it is his spirit

Chapter One

The familiar tension in Liz’s voice pulsed through the open door into the C wing’s hallway, where George Williams stood next to the name tag Violet Sterling posted on the wall. He didn’t make a habit of eavesdropping outside residents’ rooms. He’d promised Violet he’d cook her the soup she said helped her sleep at night. In his thirty-eight years, he’d never broken a promise, and he wasn’t going to start now with Violet Sterling. He didn’t want to enter her room and interrupt a tense family scene though. He pushed his kitchen cart against the wall, checked the lid on the soup pot, and straightened his chef shirt as he listened to Liz.

Mother, nobody wanted you to move out of your house after your fall, but you need assistance to fully recover. You must face the time you’ll need to heal. It hasn’t even been three months. You can’t return home too early because you still need a lot of help. I can’t take care of you, plus keep up with my VP promotion at work, not to mention raise a ten-year-old. What does it really matter if you’re home for Christmas or home a month later? Nothing. We’ll come visit you here for Christmas, and you’ll be home in the new year.

George frowned. Canine whimpering came from the cart’s undertray, attached just above the wheels. George kneeled by his beagle who rode on the dog cushion. I know Phil, you want to comfort her. You can hear she’s upset.

George relaxed as Violet responded in her usual calm voice. I don’t want to interfere with your work. I know you’re busy, but I’m feeling better. I can do more each day. I just want to spend Christmas at home with both of you, with our traditions. I’m friends here with patients and with staff. Take George, for example. I like him very much, but Christmas—

George? The chef here? Well, that’s good. We’ll be with you at Christmas. Maybe we can invite your friends here to your room, invite your friend George too.

Violet spoke again, softer now, and George leaned closer to hear. I see. Well, at least I do get joy when I see Matt every day after school, my favorite time of day. Will I still see him on his vacation?

In contrast came a vibrant youthful voice, sounding a bit muffled as if smothered in a hug. I like being with you, Gran.

The dog wagged his tail at that. George scratched behind the dog’s ear. Ah, Phil, you hear your pal.

George pictured mischievous, blond Matt with his broad smiles, twinkling blue eyes, and ever-present baseball cap. Could it already be three months since this kid started visiting every day, carrying his baseball mitt and backpack? When George passed by with Phil on their therapy-animal rounds, he’d see Matt playing cribbage with his grandmother. And he was still visiting her well into the evenings. George often stopped to talk and joke with them, and Phil basked in their loving attentions.

Liz’s agitated voice came again, Yes, his visits are helpful after school and with holidays.

George agreed. This graceful grandmother and energetic Matt created a warmth of family, and sometimes included George in their fun. At least, George guessed family times were this attentive, fun, and caring. Too bad Liz didn’t make an effort to relax and enjoy her visits, instead of being all business. George shrugged. Liz wouldn’t realize what she’d had until someday it disappeared. He sighed. He’d never had it. He stood again, wondering if he should just come back later.

Violet simply said, I’m happy to play cribbage, talk baseball, and visit. You should try it, Liz.

Matt burst forth with an invitation, Mom, come play a couple of hands with us.

George eagerly absorbed the enthusiasm, sure that all would now smooth out. He adjusted the cart and got ready to walk in with the soup and cookies from his kitchen.

Liz’s response stopped him. Don’t be ridiculous. We don’t have time for card playing this late at night. We need to get home.

But Mom—

Liz interrupted, Get your things together. You’ll be back tomorrow. I have to go see nurse Greer before we go. Liz charged into the hall. She crashed into his cart, and glared at him with an icy, blue squint. He recoiled from this woman with her smeared makeup and jagged iciness, dangling dangerously close to her breaking point.

Phil jumped off the cart, as wide-eyed George pulled it out of her way. Sorry, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?

She pushed on the cart, shoving it back into his hip. The lid on the soup jiggled, and the contents sloshed. You didn’t see me? Looks like you heard though. When you’re not stopping by to say hello, you’re listening in on our conversation from the hall?

Heat rushed to his face. I brought something from the kitchen for Violet and Matt.

Her breathing labored, Liz stepped aside. She glanced at the dog and stepped farther over. Don’t let me get in your way then. Thank you, but I’m headed to the nurse’s station and then taking Matt home.

She walked forward. Did she ever smile? I’ve brought plenty if you want to stay a few minutes and join in. He took the lid off and waved some of the steam in her direction. You’ve got a couple of wonderful people waiting inside.

Yes, yes, your soup smells delicious, but I’m in a hurry tonight. Her heels clattered down the hall with the fast-moving blur of her tailored, navy-blue pantsuit. Her shoulder-length brown hair jerked and bounced with each step.

He muttered, "I’ve never seen you not in a