Christmas in Sweetbriar Cove

Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was three days before Christmas, and Ellie Lucas was up to her elbow in raw sewage.

“I can’t thank you enough,” the guest in Cabin Four fretted. Mrs. Atkins was in her sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a bright orange windbreaker. “It’s an heirloom, passed down from my grandmother. I just don’t know what I would do if we lost it.”

“Uh huh.” Ellie tried to keep a cheery smile on her face as she held her breath and reached a little deeper into the toilet.

Even in sturdy rubber gloves, she couldn’t ignore the squishing sensation as she rooted around for the beloved ring – or the gross smell wafting from the sewers.

She didn’t even want to know what she was touching right now. “Are you sure it fell in?”

“Oh yes.” Mrs. Atkins hovered in the doorway of the tiny bathroom. “I heard it drop.”

“Like a splash?” Ellie asked, trying not to gag.

“No, more like a clatter,” she said. “I was standing right here. It’s a pink gemstone,” she added. “It’s not worth much, but the sentimental value is beyond measure…”

Ellie leaned down further, searching the floor until she saw a glint of metal from underneath the vanity.

“You mean, like this?” Ellie freed her hand from the bowels of the toilet, and used the long pipe of the plunger to knock the ring free. It rolled into the middle of the floor.

“You found it!” Mrs. Atkins scooped it up. “Oh, you angel. Thank you!”

“All part of the service.” Ellie straightened up, getting light-headed now from holding her breath. She replaced the toilet fixtures then cracked a window. “You, umm, might want let the room air out for a while. A long, long while.”

She stumbled outside and inhaled a lung full of crisp New England winter air.

It was a bright, blue-skied morning and the snow was still soft on the ground on Cape Cod.

The woods were white and frozen around the cabins, and through the bare branches, she could see glimpses of the flint-colored waves down by the shore.

Walking in a winter wonderland…

A stinky, sewer-scented wonderland, she corrected herself with a wry grin.

Ellie peeled off the glove and discarded it in the trash as she crossed the courtyard and let herself back into the main inn lodge.

She breathed in the scent of pine trees and cinnamon cookies with relief and went to rinse her hands, slathering on plenty of soap, but somehow, the sewer scent still lingered.

Eau de commode.

She sighed. The really gross part was that wasn’t the first time she’d been down on her knees digging around in a guest’s sewage, and she was guessing it wouldn’t be the last.

Just call her Ellie Lucas, the sewer queen of Sweetbriar Cove.

The front desk phone rang. She picked it up with a bright, “Sweetbriar Inn, wishing you a happy holidays!”

“How’s it going?” her older sister, Charlotte, asked.

Ellie trapped the phone under her ear and spritzed some pine-scented room freshener around. “I’d be better if you hadn’t abandoned me.”

After working the holidays every year that she could remember, Ellie’s parents had finally decided to take a much-deserved break—thanks to a sweepstakes cruise vacation they won in a radio contest. Her sister already had plans to spend the week in Boston with friends, and since they couldn’t afford to turn away business, Ellie had been left running the inn alone.

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte apologized. “Is it terrible, stuck there all alone for the holidays?”

“No, it’s fine,” Ellie lied. “I have all our guests to keep me company. Are you having fun, at least?”

“Tons. And Mom and Dad called this morning, they’re setting sail at noon. They said to tell you bon voyage.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?” Ellie asked.

“They’re new to the cruising life.” Charlotte laughed. “Mom was worried they wouldn’t have cell reception out on the water.”

Ellie smiled. “You should have seen how many wet-wipes she packed. I tried telling her the ship would have toiletries for sale, but she didn’t believe me.”

“Hey, at least if they get stranded, she’ll be the cleanest person around! What about you?” Charlotte changed the subject. “How are you handling things?”

“It’s non-stop, as usual,” Ellie quipped, looking around the quiet reception room. “Lost rings, a missing paperback book. Some guests saw deer in the woods, there was nearly a riot.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it handled.”

“I’ll let you know if there’s an emergency,” Ellie reassured her, “like running out of eggnog, or forgetting to restock the mistletoe.”

“OK, I’m going shopping with the girls. Then we’re getting gingerbread scrubs at the spa, whatever that is.”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Ellie sighed wistfully. “Have fun!”

Charlotte hung up, and Ellie turned back to the front desk. Despite her teasing, she didn’t mind staying home to work that holiday season. More guests meant more tips—and she needed every last dollar if she was ever going to get out of Sweetbriar Cove.

Not that it wasn’t a lovely place to live.

Nestled in the crook of the arm of the Cape, with golden sandy beaches in the summer, and bright leafy woods in the fall, it won “most charming New England small town” three years running.

But visiting somewhere on vacation and living there 24/7 were very different things, and after twenty-five years with everyone knowing everything about her, Ellie was ready to see what else the world had to offer.

If she could ever get around to leaving.

“There she is!” The Atkins family bustled in, wrapped up warmly in matching winter hats and ready to go. Denise beamed, “I was just telling my husband how you saved the day finding my ring!”

“It was nothing.” Ellie smiled. “Are you guys heading into town?”

“That’s right. We thought we’d get a sneak peek at the square, and scope out the best spot for the carol service tonight.”

Ellie grabbed some leaflets. “Well, be sure to check out the nativity. And I think…yes, there’s a gingerbread house contest at three. Just stop by the tearooms.”

“Ooh, doesn’t that sound delicious?” Denise cooed. She tucked the papers away, and gave Ellie a smile. “I just love how everybody gets into the holiday spirit for the festival here in town. It’s a real treat.” She paused, looking around the room. “Well, almost everybody. You have a great day now!”

They headed out into the snow, and Ellie cast a new eye around reception.

Her parents had been too busy preparing for their trip to get into decorating, so they had left that for Ellie to handle.

There was a tree in the corner by the door, stockings pinned to the mantle, and mistletoe over the desk.

By most people’s standards, it was perfectly festive, but this wasn’t just any small town.

It was Sweetbriar Cove—home to the famous Starbright Winter Festival—and here, more was definitely more.

Ellie went to dig around in the back until she found a box of old decorations.

She knew they were lucky to have such a draw for tourists outside the summer season.

Other inns and motels on the Cape saw their business disappear as soon as the weather grew frosty, but with the Starbright Festival, Sweetbriar was still the biggest attraction around.

A whole week of festivities, drawing holiday-lovers from across the country—and filling her family inn’s cabins to capacity.

She had one more guest due to arrive, and then they would be fully booked.

The least she could do was sprinkle some more tinsel around.

Ellie was balancing on the top of a stool, adorning the tree with another round of sparkly ornaments when the bell over the door beside her dinged a warning.

“Wait!” She yelped. “Don’t open the—”

Too late. The front door swung wide open, knocking straight into her stool, and sending her careening into the prickly embrace of the Christmas tree.

“Oww!” Ellie cried, clinging on for dear life.

“I’m sorry.” A man’s voice came, with an Irish burr. “Hang on!”

“I’m hanging!” she gulped, trying to keep her balance. The tree rocked perilously, seventy pounds of tinsel-bedecked branches swaying closer to disaster.

Ellie felt strong arms wrap around her legs. “It’s OK, I’ve got you.”

Before she could move, she found herself lifted down and set on the ground. “Thanks,” she said breathlessly, turning. “We were this close to a tree disaster—”

The words faded on her lips. She was looking up at the sexiest man to ever step foot through the doors of the Sweetbriar Inn.

Granted, the average age of their guests was about fifty-seven, but still.

If they’d had a parade of male models striding through every other week, there would still be no competition.

Dark hair, curling just a little too long over blue eyes, and rugged cheekbones she could have willingly impaled herself on. He had two-day stubble and was wearing a battered navy peacoat, looking distractingly disheveled, with a leather duffel bag hoisted over his shoulder.

In other words, dangerously good-looking. Emphasis on the danger.

She had rules about getting involved with tourists or men who were so hot, they should have come with a warning, and the sum of it was pretty much: Don’t.

“Hi,” Ellie managed, quickly stepping back and putting a safe distance between them. “Welcome. Thanks for the rescue,” she added.

“My pleasure. Although, that thing still might tip over of its own accord,” he noted, looking at the sheer weight of decorations. “You don’t go for the minimal look around here, then?”

“There’s nothing minimal about the Starbright Festival,” she said, heading over to the desk and quickly smoothing her sweater down.

“The what now?”

Ellie looked up. “The festival. That’s why you’re here, right? To celebrate the joy of the holidays, in all its snow-capped glory.”

The man frowned. “Actually, I was after some peace and quiet. A friend of mine recommended the place. I thought it would be empty out of season.”