CHAPTER THREE
Max
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The journey back home ended up being more of a production than Max had anticipated.
When he called his parents to let them know not only would he be coming home for Christmas, but he would be staying for three weeks, they were ecstatic and insisted on forgoing their usual celebrations at their London home and instead had booked a house in Scotland for the holiday.
They also planned on inviting a few aunts, uncles, and cousins that were not otherwise engaged, for a large family party.
Max hadn’t seen these relatives in quite a while, so he was all for it.
What he wasn’t up for was the fact that there were no flights directly to Edinburgh from New York, which meant that what could have been a quick jaunt across the ocean was now a bit more complicated.
After taking the train from New Haven to New York City, the subway to LaGuardia Airport, and a plane to Heathrow, Max was now sitting on another train that would deposit him in Scotland where, hopefully, he would be a short car ride away from his family’s rental and a warm, comfortable bed to rest in.
Once the lights of London had faded into the night sky, Max was able to look out the window to try and appreciate the view of the English countryside.
If only it weren’t snowing, like Mother Nature herself had something to prove.
White powder blanketed the ground and just about everything else he could see through the sheets of thick flakes making their way down from the clouds.
Living in Connecticut, Max saw his fair share of snow, but there was something different about the way it looked now.
The pastoral scene in front of him was far more familiar and comforting than when Sunset Cove was covered in white.
The sand from the beach and all the cars pouring down Main Street made the snow look a bit dirty, whereas the snow here was as pure as he had ever seen.
If he were outside right now, he would be tempted to scoop up a handful and take a bite.
Max’s head leaned against the cool window of the train, his eyes drooping heavily with the weight of exhaustion after his long journey.
The trip hadn’t been easy, but he knew it would be worth it.
Not just because he would be getting to spend time with family, but because he was in a place as familiar to him as almost anything else.
There was just something about being in the land he was born and raised in that settled him.
The feeling came over him like a warm blanket, and he realized the question of whether or not he would be moving back to England anytime soon had basically been answered.
Max could easily see himself building a life in London or somewhere near there.
Now all that was left to figure out was what he was going to do for work.
That was a bigger question to ponder, and Max was too tired to think of anything but the possibility of getting a little rest while he waited for the last leg of his pilgrimage to be over.
***
Sometime later, Max woke with a start as the train car jolted to a stop.
Rubbing his dry eyes, he blinked and looked around the cabin.
Due to the late hour and the storm outside, he was one of only a few people on the train.
As his head whipped back and forth, searching the seats for anyone else, he realized he was the sole passenger in his car.
With a jaw-cracking yawn, Max stood and stretched his aching muscles then grabbed his luggage.
He assumed they were finally in Edinburgh, but when he looked outside, he saw nothing but more snow and faint lights in the distance.
There was no large station, no city lights.
Nothing but a silent scene from a holiday movie playing out the window.
More than a little confused, Max shouldered his bag and made his way down the aisle to the car in front of him.
After passing through the connecting door and finding that car was also empty, he kept going until he reached the conductor’s compartment.
After tapping on the window and watching the older woman inside jump with fright, Max flashed his most charming smile to try and put her at ease.
When the partition between them slid away, he nodded at the woman. “Good evening. I was wondering why the train has stopped.”
The woman, whose name was Midge if her nametag was anything to go by, winced as she peered up at him.
At six-foot-two, he was quite tall and was used to people having to look up at him, but the way the woman’s head tilted so far back was so comical he had to stifle a chuckle.
With graying hair and a friendly smile, she reminded him of his mother and there was no way he would laugh in the face of his mum.
“I thought everyone had gotten off already,” she said to him in a thick cockney accent. “The tracks are iced over north of here, and I was radioed to stop. This is the end of the line for now.”
Max looked through the front window of the train in hopes that he would recognize where he was or at least see a sign for the town on the small platform. Sighing when he saw nothing but snow, he turned back toward Midge. “And where are we?”
The woman frowned at him, as if she were disappointed he couldn’t glean the answer from the nothingness outside. “We’re about half an hour from the Newcastle upon Tyne station.”
After some quick mental math, Max calculated he was at least three hours from his final destination.
Wonderful. “I suppose this is my stop then. Thank you.” As he turned toward the door that would lead to the small platform outside, he pulled out his phone.
One look at the freezing cold outside, he decided to call his mother while in the warmth and safety of the cabin.
As soon as the call connected, his mother’s panicked voice came through the speaker.
“Maxwell? Are you alright? It’s brass monkeys out there today, and it seems like this snow isn’t stopping for man or God.
” Max chuckled at the familiar phrase referring to the cold.
It had been too long since he’d heard it or any other expression common to his homeland.
“I’m fine, mum, but it looks like the train won’t be pulling into Edinburgh anytime soon.
” He peeked outside and saw that the snow seemed to be coming down even harder than it had been moments ago.
“I may have to find some temporary lodging until the morning. Maybe by then the train will be running again, or I can catch a ride up North.”
“Are you sure? I don’t like thinking of you stranded alone somewhere.”
His mother acting like he was on some deserted island and not a small English town was entertaining, but Max kept his chuckles to himself.
He could practically hear her hands wringing through the phone and tried his best to put her at ease.
“I’ll be perfectly safe and warm in a hotel nearby.
If anything, it will allow me a good night’s rest before I have to share space with Uncle Norman and his incessant talk of Manchester United.
” Having grown up in England, Max too was a fan of football, but he had no allegiance to a particular team and listening to his uncle go on and on about his favorite had always been a bit too much for him.
His mother chuckled lightly and Max smiled at having been able to calm her a bit. “True enough. Well, send us a message as soon as you’re settled somewhere or I’ll worry that you’ve frozen solid.”
“I will. Love you, mum.” After she said the same, Max clicked off his phone and started to pull up listings for cabbie companies, but a throat clearing next to him caused him to pause.
Glancing over, he saw Midge smiling up at him.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a ride-share.” She flashed her teeth and pointed out into the snow.
When he followed her direction, he saw two headlights pulling into the lot near the platform.
He sighed with relief that he had one less thing to worry about.
Max turned back to Midge with a smile. If she hadn’t already reminded him a bit of his mother before, she certainly did now with her taking care of his transportation for him. “Thank you, Midge. You’ve been an angel.”
The woman blushed and waved off his compliment. “Go on and save that for the younger women. Have a safe journey.”
“You do the same,” Max replied as he walked through the doors she opened for him.
Pulling his coat closer together, Max made his way down the stairs and over to the car that was waiting for him.
There was some kind of business logo on the side, but the snow stuck to the door obscured it from view.
Slipping into the back of the warm vehicle, Max shook the snow from his shoulders and hair and plopped his large bag on the seat next to him.
When he looked up, he saw the driver had turned to look at him.
The younger man had dark hair and round glasses. A smile played across his face as he reached a hand out to Max. “Evening,” he said, his tone friendly. “I’m Brent, and I’ll be your driver this evening.”
Max shook his hand briefly and buckled himself in. “Evening, Brent. Thanks for making the trek out in this.”
“Not a problem. I was out making last-minute deliveries, so when Midge called and mentioned you were a bit stranded, I was more than happy to come out.” His eyes flicked toward Max in the rearview mirror as he started to drive out of the lot. “Where are you heading to...?”
“Max,” he replied. “And I need a place to stay for the night. I don’t suppose you know of a hotel nearby.” Much to his chagrin, one look out the window showed no signs of nearby accommodation, but perhaps this local knew better.
Brent sucked air through his teeth and shook his head.
“There are a few in Newcastle, but I know for a fact they’re booked solid, and I’m not sure I trust this storm not to get worse along the way.
” He seemed to think for a moment before his eyes met Max’s again.
“There is one place that has a vacancy, if you don’t mind slumming it in a small town for the night. ”
Max scoffed and straightened in his seat, slightly offended by the implication that he was a snob. “And what makes you think I would be slumming it?”
The man smiled and chuckled. “Oh, just the posh accent and the fact that your outfit looks like it costs more than my entire wardrobe put together.”
Max looked down at his Burberry coat and boots and winced slightly.
He did have a London accent and spent most of his hard-earned money that didn’t go into savings on clothes, but it was because he preferred quality items that lasted a long time over fast fashion.
“Be that as it may,” he addressed the driver.
“Just because I look like a toff doesn’t mean I act like one.
I happen to live in a small town thank..
.you...very...much.” Wow, he really did sound like a posh idiot.
Brent continued to chuckle as he steered through the heavy snow. “No offense meant, and I’m sure that even if you were a toff, you would absolutely enjoy your stay in Gingerbread Cottage.”
Max snorted at the name of the place he was heading. “Gingerbread Cottage? Are we heading toward a town of fairy tales and make-believe?”
Brent shook his head as he turned into town.
The streets were lined with brick houses and others in the Tudor style, as well as streetlamps that were decorated with large red ribbons that were still visible given the heavy snow.
“Not fairy tales and make believe, though if you talk to some people they do think there is a fair bit of magic in the air here, my fiancé being one of them.” The man seemed to get lost in thought, no doubt about said fiancé before he remembered Max’s comment.
“As for Gingerbread Cottage, it’s technically named The Blackthorn Inn.
We just all refer to it as Gingerbread Cottage because of the yearly biscuit decorating and well, the fact that the place itself looks a bit like a gingerbread house.
” The car pulled into a driveway before coming to a stop. “See for yourself.”
Max followed the man’s gaze out the window to a house made of brick, the same burnt orange color of gingerbread, with forest-green window shutters and a tiled roof that was covered in snow.
It did look very much like a house made of the spicy biscuits, but there was something else about it that had Max leaning toward the window to get a better look.
The place wasn’t just an Inn; it looked like a home.
A home he would very much like to stay in, if only for one night.
When Max had leaned in so close that his nose bumped the icy glass of the window, he pulled back and flashed a grin at his driver. “You were right.”
“I usually am,” Brent said with a smile. “Now, let’s get you inside. It’s a bit later than she would usually accept a guest, but I’m sure Lucy will make an exception given the circumstances.”
“Lucy?” Max asked as he climbed out into the cold. Brent jogged over to the passenger side and led him to the front door.
“Lucy Shaw, owner and operator of the Inn as well as my very good friend.” From the look in his eyes, the man was clearly proud of Lucy, and for whatever reason, the expression on his face caused Max to feel a pang of jealousy, which was odd because Brent was engaged and he hadn’t even met Lucy yet.
Perhaps he was just jealous of the feeling, but deep down he knew it was more than that, he just wasn’t sure what.
Max shook his head to clear the strange feelings, attributing it to being tired and a bit lonely.
He raised the door knocker and let it fall with a clang, stepping to the side and waiting as patiently as he could even though it felt as if his extremities were slowly turning to ice.
Some shuffling sounded on the other side of the door, but Max couldn’t see a thing through the narrow windows along the side.
When the door opened, so did Max’s mouth, but not a single sound came out.
It was impossible for his brain to form words.
He had referred to Midge at the station as an angel, but he was wrong.
The only angel he had seen that night was the one currently standing in front of him, and suddenly the detour to his journey was no longer an inconvenience, but an entirely welcome happenstance.