I'll Be Home for Christmas: A Novella

By Barbara J. Scott

Walkin' in a winter wonderland is no stroll in the park . . .


Forget asking for a pony. Sophia Tucker and her sisters have inherited an entire horse farm for Christmas. The money from selling the place should be enough for Soph to open her own veterinary clinic. Finally.


All that's left to do is return home for one last Christmas. But there's a catch.


His name is Matt Weatherly, a former Marine medic and childhood friend. Nurse to her late father, Matt sets to work helping the Tucker sisters bring the family homestead back to its former glory. However, it's anything but peace on earth when Matt considers reenlisting. Is it possible for Soph to have herself a merry little Christmas?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kregel Publications
• Release date: Oct 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781683701330

Barbara J. Scott

Barbara Scott, an inspirational author, editor, and well-known writing workshop faculty member, released her first novella with Gilead Publishing in late 2016 titled “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” that appears in Sleigh Bells Ring: Four Contemporary Romance Novellas. Barbara and her husband Mike live in the Ft. Lauderdale area with their two Chihuahuas, Riley and Sissy, both rescued from puppy mills. Reading, writing, editing, and teaching are her passions.

Book preview

I’ll Be Home for Christmas

Written by Barbara J. Scott, originally published as part of the novella Sleigh Bells Ring

Published by Gilead Publishing, Grand Rapids, MI

www.gileadpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-68370-133-0 (eBook)

Barbara J. Scott is represented by the literary agency of WordServe Literary (www.wordserveliterary.com).

Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Editors: Barbara J. Scott and Sandra D. Bricker

Cover and interior designer: Larry Taylor

My Sweet Sophie,

I’m writing to you one last time, hoping my attorney can track down your most recent address. You’ll always be my little cowgirl. I remember that light in your eyes as clearly as if it were yesterday when I carried you on my shoulders out to the stable. You sure loved taking care of those horses, didn’t you? I never saw a little girl more suited to riding tall in a saddle than you.

By the time you read this, I suspect this old Marine will be long gone. The horse farm belongs to you and your sisters now. I can only hope my death will bring the four of you back together—back to the home you once loved so much. I’m sorry I wasn’t around much when you were growing up, but I want you to know, I love you, and I always will.

Tuck

Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.

—Psalm 127:3–5

Chapter One

Sophie Tucker loosened her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel of her 1999 white Ranger pickup as she gradually slowed to pull into the ice- and snow-covered driveway. Home . . . finally. She heaved a sigh of relief.

What should have been a three-and-a-half-hour drive from Nashville to Bluegrass Crossing outside of Lexington, Kentucky, had turned into six hours, and she’d spent another half hour creeping along the rural road to the horse farm where she’d grown up. As she gently turned the steering wheel to the right, the truck’s rear-end fishtailed. Panicked, she turned into the skid to stop her slide into a deep ditch. Instead of gaining control, her truck spun around, one wheel hitting the gravel shoulder. She gunned the engine, but that only made things worse.

Her anxiety level hit the stratosphere when she realized what she feared most was happening, almost as if in slow motion. Her Ranger slid sideways down the six-foot embankment, and she thought it might roll over. She screamed, Jesus! over and over again until she came to rest at a 45-degree angle, the downhill side of her truck buried in snow.

Breathing hard, her heart throbbing in her throat, Sophie shut off the engine and dropped her head on the steering wheel. When someone rapped hard on her side window, she whipped her head around, trying to see through the frost. Someone yanked on her door handle. She turned the key back on and rolled down her window, looking up into the bluest eyes she’d seen in a long time. Not since high school anyway.

Ice crystals pelted her face. Matthew Weatherly, you scared the life out of me.

Right back at ya, Soph. I had just walked out of the stable when I saw you skidding into the ditch.

What are you doing here?

Smiling in relief, he poked his head inside, his warm breath caressing her cheek. Looks like I’m rescuing you, Peanut. We need to get you out of there before your pickup decides to roll. Unlock your door.

Sophie’s heart slowed now that she was safe, and she felt the return of those melted-chocolate feelings she once had for her first real crush. Not that he’d ever known how she felt about him back when they goofed around in their church’s youth group and rode horses together. He was a senior when she was a lowly sophomore. He had all the girlfriends he wanted, and she didn’t qualify. Then he’d graduated and joined the military—traitor—just like his hero Tuck. Her father’s nickname stuck in her throat.

She broke his friendly stare and reached for her truck keys. I don’t need rescuing. I push around thousand-pound thoroughbreds for a living, remember?

How could I forget, Dr. Sophia Tucker, equine veterinarian extraordinaire? he drawled. Your daddy was really proud of you.

Sophie bit her tongue, aware of the cold steel door that slammed closed in her heart. What she wanted to say was, Oh, you mean the father who abandoned my mother and his four daughters and ran off to play war games? Like I care what he thought.

Before taking out her keys, she raised the window and unlocked the doors.

I’m not sure we can get your door open, Matt yelled from outside. Maybe it would be safer if you crawled out the window.

Let’s try the door first.

With Matt’s help, she managed to crack it open, and with him pulling on the handle, they finally opened it far enough for her to squeeze out.

She pulled her duffle bag with her, but before she could swing it out, Matt took it out of her hands. The pickup door slammed shut. Then he helped steady her as she stepped into the deep snow to climb up the embankment. The full force of the wind hit her, making it hard to stand upright.

"Let’s get inside before we freeze