Winter Wishes: Mountain Hearts, #3

By Abby Everheart

He's come to destroy her life. She's determined to change his mind. 

 

Grace: The boss is in town and he wants to take away everything from her. She has a solution and if she can just get him to stay and work with her, there's no way she can't change his mind.

 

Sean: How did that bubbly redhead rope him into this? He's former special forces, he's tough, his heart softening isn't something he ever planned on.

 

As Grace and Sean learn to work together a serial killer with a taste for redheads comes to town. Will Sean be able to protect Grace or will the beginning embers of love be snuffed out?

 

 

Welcome to the Colorado mountains where every love story has a suspenseful twist and a happily ever after.
Winter Wishes is a clean, sweet romance and the third complete standalone in the Mountain Hearts series.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abby Everheart
• Release date: Feb 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215418277

Abby Everheart

Abby Everheart is the nom de plum for a woman who believes everyone should be able to go on adventures and experience sweet romance from their favorite reading chair. Her favorite part of the day is at night after work when she can sit down and put pen to paper crafting characters and stories she hopes you will love.   You can find her at abbyeverheart.com or follow her on Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/authorabby or Bookbub @abbyeverheartauthor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

There was nothing like starting one’s day to an email from the boss saying that he would be there today and that they needed to discuss something important. Technically, the email said he’d be there tomorrow, but Grace was reading it at four a.m. the day after it was sent, so it was today. No pressure. She spent more time than she probably should have staring at that email, trying to read between the brusque lines of text, to no avail.

Nothing good came from emails that said the boss who lived in another state would be coming to discuss something in person.

Grace loved managing the coffee shop and had done so for almost thirteen years. He couldn’t possibly be unhappy with her work, could he? She racked her brain for answers. The owner, Sean, had inherited the coffee shop from his mom when she passed. His mom had been a wonderful woman that Grace had worked with and absolutely loved, and had given Grace this chance. About a year ago the woman had passed at seventy-nine from age-related illness back in Texas, where she’d retired years earlier to be near her son when he was back from deployment. When Sean had taken over the shop he’d given Grace a call, and they’d spoken briefly and then, he had been silent ever since. The financial books were good and Grace knew he was getting a substantial income from the place, so she couldn’t possibly think of what issue he could take with her work or why he would be coming. This was going to bother her all day. She wished he had included a time in his email.

Gazing out the window of her small log cabin, she watched snow lightly fall, fluttering delicately in the beams of her porch lights.

Oh well, I’ll just have to be patient, she muttered to herself. Patience was not her biggest attribute, so she’d be stressed about this all day. Still, at least he’d told her he was coming and wouldn’t just show up unannounced.

With a sigh, she closed her laptop and shuffled back to her room to change out of her fluffy robe and slippers and get ready for the day.

Half an hour later the snow crunched loudly under her feet when she left the house and headed for her truck, the brisk wind tugging at her long camel coat. Despite the cold, mornings, before hardly anyone else had risen, when the sun had only just started to illuminate the world and shadows were still long—that was Grace’s favorite part of the day.

Thankfully, no one else was on the snowy roads guessing where the lines were this early, and she only had to slow for a group of deer crossing the road. As she entered town, with its businesses and trees lit up with pretty white lights that stayed up all winter, she saw a big buck walking down the sidewalk, enjoying his freedom in the still-asleep town before he would be driven back to the national forest surrounding the town by the bustling activities of people as they woke and headed to work.

At the café the back door proved stubborn to open, with ice caking the keyhole. Grumbling uncomplimentary things at the door, Grace went back to her car for the lock deicer and proceeded to get the door open.

At least wait for anything to go wrong until I’ve had my coffee, she muttered at the

door before closing it firmly and locking it once again.

As she prepped for the day in the back of the shop, she couldn’t help but think about why the owner would be coming in person to speak with her. It bothered her, considering they’d only ever had one phone conversation and a couple of emails. She didn’t know what to expect. She remembered the late owner, his mother, Jean, talking about her son being in the military. Definitely a different personality than Jean who was always hippie-styled and carefree. She’d loved eccentric things. Grace smiled, remembering when Jean had first brought in an indoor waterfall statue of a unicorn rearing up. She’d been so proud of finding it at a garage sale. What kind of garage sale had a unicorn water fountain, Grace didn’t know, and she’d never seen anything similar, but if anyone could have found something that unique, it was Jean. To this day it brought cheer to customers, and they were always talking about it. During the holiday season Grace would dress it up with a red velvet mini horse blanket and a Santa hat. People loved it. Or looked at it warily, as if it might come alive and prong them.

Grace was so deep in her thoughts that it took a moment for her to realize that someone was tapping on the front door. Glancing at the clock she realized that she’d not unlocked the door at her usual time of five a.m.

Quick steps took her past a thick curtain to the front. She waved with a big smile as she approached the door. It was a regular, Eleanor. Like Grace, she loved early mornings, but dealing with people in the morning was not her favorite activity, and she always needed a big dirty chai before speaking with anyone. Especially considering she dealt with the headache of insurance.

Oh, God bless you, child. I had thought that you were closed and almost had a panic attack. You know how I need my caffeine for the day, Eleanor said with a reassuring tilt of her lips to tell that she was joking.

Grace chuckled. Thankfully, no. I was just lost in my thoughts and forgot to unlock. She reached over to the window and flicked the open sign on, the red light bright against the darkness outside. I apologize for that. Come on in and let’s get you your chai. That is what you would like, right? Grace whisked back behind the counter and started preparing the drink while Eleanor stood at the register, leaning against the tall counter.

It’s almost like I’m here every morning and you know exactly what I want, the woman drawled.

Grace had to laugh. She always asked, to be polite, in case Eleanor ever wanted to try something new, and the answer was always the same. Eleanor was as steadfast as a tree in her decisions.

It didn’t take long for people to start wandering in, yawns and mumbled good mornings accompanying most of them. Grace bustled about, happy to give them some cheer at the start of their day.

You’re an early bird, aren’t you? one lady said. She had only just recently started coming to the coffee shop and wasn’t accustomed to Grace’s cheery early morning greetings yet.

I love the morning. I’ve been getting up at four a.m. for over a decade. It’s so peaceful. She slipped a cover onto the to-go coffee cup, which was white with light-blue snowflakes, and set it on the counter near the woman with a big smile.

The lady inhaled the warm steam curling from the opening in the lid and sighed contentedly. Have a good day.

You too! Grace was already busy with the next order.

Usually, Grace loved seeing her employees, but when Madalyn walked in, Grace felt a pit grow in her stomach. The feeling increased when the busyness of the early- and mid-morning started to wane as afternoon approached.

If you’re okay up here, I’ll go do some ordering, Grace said to Madalyn, eliciting a nod from the quiet girl.

In the back Grace grabbed her work laptop and settled into one of the soft chairs. She found it hard to focus on the screen, her mind again going over the email Jean’s son had sent. They’d increased revenue each year, they had consistent staffing, good vendors, happy customers . . . she knew shaking her head wouldn’t help, but she did it anyway and tried to focus on the screen.

As agonizing as it was to go through her normal ordering and inventory assessment with the unknown on her mind, she was glad to get a reprieve when Madalyn peeked her head around the curtain and told her there was a line. The early afternoon rush was a relief, with people coming in for a desperate after-lunch wake up so they could continue their day without taking a nap at their desks.

The day dragged on and by closing time, Grace had cleaned everything up front and reorganized everything in the back more than a couple of times. Madalyn was beginning to eye her like she was going crazy. The thought almost made her laugh. She felt like she was.

Madalyn brought her towel over to an area of the counter next to Grace, one that she’d already cleaned. Are you doing okay? she finally asked.

I’m just wound up.

Yeah, no kidding.

Grace laughed. Thanks for checking. The owner was supposed to come today, so I was stressed. But, she glanced at the big, artsy clock on the wall, it doesn’t look like he’s going to make it today. We close in twenty minutes.

Another fast day. Madalyn yawned.

Why don’t you go home early? There’s nothing much left except to lock the doors and take out the trash.

Are you sure?

Absolutely, and you’ll get paid for the full hour. No worries. She knew the college girl needed the money. It was only twenty minutes—not enough to worry about it hurting the bottom line to pay her for a full last hour of work. Grace swore there was a place in hell for skimpy people. But she knew she shouldn’t be too judgmental. She just wasn’t raised that way, that was all.

Great, thanks. Madalyn aimed a big smile at Grace, collected her things, and headed out the back door.

Grace loved the simple things. Like making an employee happy just by telling her to leave a mere twenty minutes early.

No one was in the café, so she took the liberty of wiping down some of the coffee tables and head to the back to organize an order that had come in midday.

As she was situating a large bag on a shelf, the bottom seam split, pouring ground coffee onto her. Sputtering and waving her hands, trying to find the tear with her eyes closed against the onslaught, she muttered an expletive and got dark roast ground coffee in her mouth. Lips firmly pressed together, she finally found the opening and pinched it shut, containing whatever few grains of coffee that weren’t in her hair or decorating her face and shirt.

The ringing of the little chimes above the front door announced a customer.

A groan slipped past her lips, and she tried to brush herself off. Hoping that she looked at least semi-presentable, she straightened her shirt and went to the front. She would deal with the spilled coffee after the customer.

Grace pushed past the curtain that separated the back from the counter and front. For a second, fear snaked its way around her ribcage. The man who’d come in was massive, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His winter coat did little to hide the powerful physique.

Grace put on a big smile as she came up behind the register. He may have been a big guy, and looked like he’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and hadn’t had any coffee, but he was still just a person. And most people were nice to those who gave them coffee. At least, that was her experience.

Hello! We’re just about ready to close, my friend, but I can whip you up a coffee if that’s what you’d like. We also have pastries, she gestured at the displays. But we don’t make our in-house sandwiches so close to closing time.

I’m not here to get anything, he said, his voice hard but smooth, like a dark roast coffee she could sip on all day. His eyes perused the place, lingering on certain elements of the décor, specifically the rearing unicorn waterfall, and then settled on Grace. His eyes were a striking green. She would have assumed he wore contacts, except that he didn’t come across as someone who would wear colored contacts. If she were to guess, she’d say he was a mafia hitman. Irish mafia hitman, thanks to the brown hair and green eyes. I’m watching too much TV this winter.

Well, are you just looking for a place to set up a laptop and work, then? She kept the smile on her face and refused to lower her eyes, holding his bright and less-than-friendly stare.

I am here to do some work. He finally released her gaze and looked at the white curtain separating the back storage and preparation area from the main room. Without a word, he started for it.

Grace’s smile dropped, and she rushed behind him. Hey! Sir, this room is only meant for employees.

He didn’t turn.

You are trespassing right now. If you must insist on doing this, I will have to call the police and have them escort you off the property.

This time, he stilled and turned. Grace skidded to a stop much closer to him than she wanted to be, but refused to step back. She didn’t want to show this big dude that she cared that he was a hundred pounds bigger than her. Or so she assumed.

Actually, I’m not trespassing. I own this coffee shop.

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The redhead stared at him as if he’d just told her he was the president. Her mouth opened and then closed. Finally, she took a breath and spoke. Brown particles of —what was that, coffee?— slipped from her cheeks as she opened her mouth.

Oh . . . yes, I got your email. You’re Jean’s son. She paused, meeting his gaze with her own soft one. Jean was a wonderful woman and mentor. I’m ever so sorry for your loss.

He shrugged. Everyone has to go sometime.

She crossed her arms and frowned at that. Yeah, she was soft and sweet and he was the opposite. She’d learn that real quick. It had hurt when he’d lost his mom, not that he’d say that out loud, but it was over a year ago and he had to move on with life. That would be Mom’s desire too. Honor the dead with a good life.

Listen . . . He glanced over at the curtain that seemed to separate off a back room. Is there a place we can sit down and discuss why I’m here?

Yes, of course. Let me lock up. The set of her shoulders was tense as she bustled around the counter and to the door, clicking the deadbolt, and shutting off the open sign and the strings of tiny, warm lights that decorated the big windows. She had good reason to be tense. She’d been here for a long time and had taken care of the place for his mom when she’d moved back to their home state of Texas. Because of that, he felt a responsibility to tell her the bad news in person. Somehow an email or phone call seemed too cruel even for him.

The woman said nothing, just strode forward, passed him. As she went by, the sweet scent of some type of gingerbread-like perfume—or maybe shampoo?—tempted him to breathe deeper. He exhaled forcefully. He wasn’t here to play friendly, and she’d most likely hate his guts when he was finished telling her the purpose of his visit.

Chapter 2

Grace racked her brain, trying to remember Mr. Unfriendly’s name in the stressful moment. They’d spoken once before, when Jean had passed and he was calling to let Grace know, and at that time she’d assumed the man’s demeanor was because of his mother’s death. Apparently, grumpy was just his personality.

She held the curtain open for him and he went past, walking straight for the big, comfy, blue wingback chairs they used for breaks. He paused to glance down at the pile of dark brown ground coffee on the floor and she could have slapped herself for the mess. He continued to the chairs without a word.

With a soft inhale she forced herself to sit, calmly crossing her legs and waiting for him to speak. No use letting herself get riled just yet. Though she had a feeling that whatever he’d made the trip to talk with her about wouldn’t be something she was happy with. But she couldn’t be sure. Maybe he wanted to change up the way she ran the place or add some additional revenue streams. Her mind shied away from any other possibilities. Those two seemed the least detrimental to her. Numbers had continued to climb positively under her management, even with the brief period where they’d had to close to replace the old, ruptured plumbing and fix some mildewed areas in the back due to said ruptured plumbing. She glanced down to see grains of coffee slide down her blouse into her lap. Of course, there was no other time that such a thing would happen. She gritted her teeth and refused to brush nervously at her clothes and hair.

The man sat on the edge of his seat, leaning forward but not looking at her