Christmas at Fireside Cabins

by Jenny Hale

Genres: Family Life; Holiday books; Women's Fiction; Romance; Clean & Wholesome Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

Escape to the idyllic small town of Pinewood Hills in this enchanting romance, about falling in love under the mistletoe with a sprinkle of Christmas magic… For Lila Evans, Christmas is the toughest time of year––a heartbreaking reminder of losing her father, and just how lonely she is… This year, she’s organized a blissful getaway with her closest friends: just the remedy for the December blues. The countryside resort of Fireside Cabins, tucked away in the snowy Tennessee hills, seems like this year’s perfect setting to get into the festive spirit. But it’s far from a winter wonderland––the crumbling cottage is falling apart, and the owner, a widow named Eleanor Finely, confesses that the cabins are on the brink of closure. Lila and her friends should pack their bags right there and then, but Lila can’t bear to leave the tearful elderly woman. She clearly has no one, and Lila, more than anyone, knows how that feels. In search of holiday cheer, the women find a local coffee shop. But the rugged, surly owner Theo Perry has an apparent aversion to Christmas, seeming downright angry when Lila asks for a peppermint latte. No one in the area knows who he is––but it’s clear he’s running from something. Yet there’s more to this small town than Theo’s frosty reception. As much as his coldness infuriates her, Lila can’t deny that on the rare occasions when he does smile, it feels like coming home. Plus, the cabins are just calling for some festive sparkle. And, unexpectedly, Pinewood Hills could hold a new beginning for Lila… But can she save Fireside Cabins in time for Christmas? With a dusting of festive magic, spiced apple cider and sugarplum pie, could this be the first holiday she doesn’t spend alone? Indulge in this glittering page-turner that might just prove, at this magical time of year, that almost anything is possible. Christmas at Fireside Cabins is the perfect holiday treat for fans of Debbie Macomber, Susan Mallery and Sheila Roberts. Readers totally love Jenny Hale’s festive tales: “ Wow, I have literally fallen in love with this book, a truly wonderful, heartfelt read from start to finish. It was so much more than a romance story, had lots going on and I was pretty much glued to the pages throughout and couldn't turn the pages quick enough. I loved the Christmas cozy feel to it… It really was the perfect read, and I didn't want it to end.” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“ Jenny Hale and Christmas, the perfect combination! I absolutely adore the Christmas vibes in this story… It’s heartwarming, warm, cozy and just MAGICAL!!! ” Simona’s Corner of Dreams, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“ Wow!… Wonderful… Amazing and magical.” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“ Amazing… Loved it from start to end… Magical.” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I absolutely adore Jenny Hale… Yet again I wished that this book would never end. I loved it so much… If you are after a cozy, super-romantic read, full of idyllic scenery and utterly adorable characters then this is the book for you! Pure festive magic.” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Sigh. This was such a sweet story! I literally laughed and cried throughout it. I loved this family and the lives they built together… If you are looking for a wonderful Christmas romance, look no further! ” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“ Brilliant… Period. The emotions in this story were like the shiny baubles on the Christmas tree. Each one sparkled and left me longing for more… A fun Christmassy read!!” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“ Loved this… GREAT READ.” Goodreads Reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Release date: October 14, 2020

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 306

Sample

“Sorry I’m late,” Lila Evans said to her three best friends, as she dropped into a chair around the table at their favorite coffee shop. Her purse and red-and-green Christmas shopping bags full of gifts landed on the floor with a thud beside her. She unwound her scarf, shaking the snow off of it, still breathless from rushing.

A solo guitar player strummed holiday tunes on a small holly-rimmed stage in the corner, singing into a microphone, his raspy voice coming through the miniature amplifier by his feet while busy shoppers grabbed coffees on their way to various festive destinations around the city. Live acoustic music was one of the perks of going to a coffee shop on Music Row in Nashville.

“My manager insisted that we all stay later on our shifts to help him keep the restaurant open longer during the Christmas season.” Lila tucked the runaway strands of damp hair behind her ear, the newly falling snow having had its way with it. The rest of her chocolate-brown locks were pinned up in a messy bun, just like every day she waitressed. “He didn’t tell me we were staying past our usual hours until I’d gotten there this morning.” She fluttered her fingers in the air. “But I’m here now,” she said with a grin. “And I’ve got something to show everyone.” Lila reached down into her purse, grabbing her iPad and setting it on the table in preparation for what she had to share with the girls.

“When are you going to quit that job?” her friend Edie James asked, clearly noticing Lila’s exhaustion despite her attempts to hide it.

Edie knew all too well that Lila could be doing better things with her time than dealing with her disaster of a manager. But their conversation was interrupted when the barista called Edie’s name.

“I got you a peppermint latte with extra whipped cream. I’d already figured when you hadn’t arrived yet that you’d need to treat yourself,” she said to Lila, getting up to retrieve the two oversized white mugs sitting next to an arrangement of berries and pinecones on the coffee bar beside their table.

Edie was the grounded one of the group, who kept them all under a strong reality check. She worked for a high-profile PR firm downtown, and she was constantly getting called in to work off-hours or on weekends for some big client, yet no matter where they decided to meet she was always punctual, arriving to their group meetings at the precise minute they were supposed to be there and leaving no earlier than exactly one hour later. She had a heart the size of Texas and she’d do anything for them.

“Thanks,” Lila said as Edie handed her a steaming mug. “I don’t know when I’m gonna quit.” She shook her head. “The truth is that I don’t have any better options, really. I could waitress for someone else, but I’m sure I’d face headaches over something anywhere I worked, and the tips are really good.”

She’d worked at the steakhouse the entire three years she’d known this group of women surrounding her now, and she’d considered quitting at least once a day the whole time. She’d fallen into waitressing when she’d taken the first job she could get that paid decently, and she’d been stuck there ever since. She often wondered if she’d somehow missed the cosmic signs for what she was supposed to do with her life. Growing up, she’d imagined working with disadvantaged kids full time or doing something with people that would make a difference, but she just hadn’t ever found her place.

“I hear you.” Edie set her own coffee down and crossed the flaps of her cardigan, wrapping it tightly around herself, as if it would keep out the winter chill that danced into the shop every time the door opened.

Lila took a sip of her latte, the nutty smooth flavor of the chocolate and the pop of peppermint instantly lifting her up to a state of festivity. “How about you, Edie? How’s the big pitch going?”

Edie had been given the largest account her firm had ever received. If she could get this one in the bag, she was looking at a major promotion. She hadn’t divulged exactly what the promotion entailed, but she’d used the words “life-changing.”

“We’re really close,” she said. “The client is considering us and one other.” Edie pointed to the iPad. “Did you say you found us something?” she asked, sitting down and wrapping her fingers around her mug.

“Maybe,” Lila replied, “but first, I want to hear how everyone’s doing?”

“My tyrant of an agent finally did something great. He just got me a TV network contract and I’ll be styling the actors on a few of their shows,” Lila’s friend Charlotte Meade, professional hairstylist to the stars, said, all smiles. Then her full, glossy lips dropped to a frown. “But I’m a little worried about styling Nikki Mars—you know that actress who dates the lead singer of the Misfit Junkies? She’s got that unruly mop of hair.” She made a face and ran her almond-shaped manicured nails past her boutique hoop earrings, through her golden locks.

“You’ll be great,” Edie told her. She reached across the table and patted her arm.

Suddenly, as if it occurred to all three women at once, their gaze turned to Piper Watson, the bubbliest of them all, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet.

Lila grinned just looking at Piper, as she sat about to burst with excitement.

“I brought y’all something.” Piper picked up the tattered patchwork bag that in its own cool way would be considered vintage rather than old, and lumped it on the table. She stood to dig around inside it, pushing up the sleeves of her oversized cardigan, which she’d layered with an old T-shirt for some rock band that Lila had never heard of. Her tiny waiflike arms moved a mile a minute in her enthusiasm.

Piper’s earthy, eclectic lifestyle kept them all on their toes. A soap-maker by trade, she could always be found at the local fairs and flea markets peddling the wares for her company, Scented Spirit. Her company motto was Skincare to protect and perfect the carrier of your soul. She had such an infectious personality that she made an incredible living because anyone walking by would stop to listen to her, and she pulled them right in with her irresistible charm. She could sniff out a skeptical shopper in a second, and using her personable nature, she’d have them walking away with bags of her soaps. She could relate to anyone, and she held a wealth of information, her interests spanning everything from pop culture to holistic living.

“One for you,” she said in a singsong voice, dropping a little piece of holiday-colored fabric tied with a string of twine in front of Edie. “One for you.” She handed one to Charlotte. “And one for you.” She gave a little happy squeal and bounced back into her seat. “Open them!”

Lila unwound the string and set it aside, the scrap of fabric becoming slack, revealing a small jar of lotion. She turned hers around toward the center of the table so everyone could see. “Mine says Midnight.” Lila opened the jar and smiled. “Lavender,” she said, her favorite scent dancing into the air under her nose. “How lovely, Piper.”

“Oh, I have Rockstar,” Charlotte piped up, opening the lid and taking in the scent of it. “It smells like coconut. I love it.” She dipped her finger into the shimmery cream and spread it over the back of her hand. “It sparkles.” Her eyebrows bounced up and down. “Thank you.”

“I made them last night,” Piper said, beaming, her pointy, delicate features alight. “It’s my new all-natural lotion line. I’m planning to pass some around after my yoga class tomorrow and also at the farmer’s market this weekend. I’ve made around two hundred samples so far.”

“Such the entrepreneur,” Edie told her as she held hers up. “I’m so proud of you.”

Piper reached over and gave Edie a hug.

Once Piper let go of her, Edie showed hers to the table. “Mine is aptly named Focus.”

“What does Focus smell like?” Charlotte wanted to know, still rubbing Rockstar cream on her hands and wriggling her fingers to show off its shimmer.

Edie unscrewed the lid and wafted the scent toward her. “Mint.” She blew a kiss to Piper and thanked her.

They all ooed, making Piper bounce elatedly in her seat.

Once they’d all settled down, Edie turned to Lila. “Okay, I can’t stand it anymore. Dish. Where are we going?”

Lila had known Charlotte, Piper, and Edie since she’d moved to Nashville three years ago—they’d found themselves in the same apartment complex. Lila’s mother had died tragically in a car crash just after Lila’s birth and her father had passed away of cancer when she was twenty, so these women were the closest thing to family she had. Wanting to live the dream so badly, she’d chased a guy to Nashville, hoping to start a family of her own one day, and when the relationship hadn’t worked out, her three friends had convinced her to stay in the city. That same year, the four women, all single, formed a group to support each other, and that’s exactly what they’d done.

For the last three years, during the holidays—when being single was the hardest—they spent a week together in December, filling their time with laughter, and strengthening their friendship by traveling to new places and visiting other towns and cities. Christmas was their favorite time of year. But for Lila, it was a bit more than that. Every day that went by was one day further away from the last time she’d given her dad a hug, and if she let herself think about it, she’d crumble. Just once, she would’ve loved to sit in a circle with her family, cherishing their time together and making the most of every moment, but she hadn’t gotten to do that. So instead she valued the trips she made with her girlfriends. Having never really settled anywhere, those trips felt like home.

But this year, she was starting to worry about how many more trips they would get to take together. As luck would have it, Lila’s lease was up right before the Christmas holiday and she had just weeks to decide if she wanted to stay or not. And with her friends also moving on with their lives, it was only a matter of time before they all went their separate ways and her little family, as she liked to think of them, would disappear.

“Okay,” Lila said. “Now, Edie, I know you’ve started dating someone, and Piper, you’ve got so much going on right now with house hunting in Colorado… and Charlotte, I’m sure your schedule is going to be full with your new network deal—”

“Just show us already!” Piper said, sending her little air kisses.

Lila had been feeling down because it seemed as though an era was coming to an end—no more traveling, no more constant support from her close friends. Everyone else seemed to be progressing in life, but she was treading water, stuck in her current situation with no plans for anything else. Her heart ached with loneliness at the thought. So she’d called them all to the coffee shop today for an emergency meeting. She had an idea—one last celebration.

“We can take a trip in early December instead of right at Christmas like we usually do, since everyone’s going to be so busy during the holiday. I say we pack up a tree and our gifts, and get rooms in cabins in the country about a two-hour drive from here. It’s a sort of ‘staycation.’” She brought her iPad screen to life and turned it around. “Look at this gorgeous retreat tucked away in the Tennessee hills.”

She began scrolling through the photos of the main cabin, with double stone chimneys and a wide front porch framed by log railings and rocking chairs. The smaller cabins for rent sat nestled in the snowy hills, and the local market looked like it had been snapped right out of a movie set.

“It’s called Fireside Cabins. It’s family owned and the whole place is filled with the history of local battles and early settlers. There are hiking trails and farms down the road offering horse rides, loads of shops on Main Street, a Christmas fair… and there’s even a coffee shop in town,” Lila said, biting her lip through an enormous smile while the other ladies looked on in interest.

“I knew you’d find us something!” Charlotte said, bending down to reach into a small shopping bag she’d kept beside her chair. “I was so confident that I made these. I’m in!” She tossed each of them a T-shirt with Girls’ Week emblazoned on the front in sparkly red-and-green script.

“Count me in.” Edie ran her fingers over the lettering of the T-shirt.

“Definitely,” Piper said.

“I’m glad you all approve—I knew you’d like it! I already booked it, putting it in all of our names—since the site said we could cancel at anytime. You should get a text with the confirmation in a few days.” Lila picked up her coffee and took a sip. Then from behind her mug, she said, “Let’s make this the best Christmas vacation ever.” And she knew they would. She could feel the Christmas spirit already.

The purple line of hills on the horizon framed the rolling landscape of fields, an endless expanse of green, dotted with spots of white from the falling snow. As they made their way down the winding road, the only indication that the area was inhabited at all was the narrow strip of gray asphalt zigzagging through the serene countryside, and the occasional red barn, perched on the hillside like a postcard.

“How many more minutes left?” Piper asked as she wriggled in her seat. “I kind of have to go to the bathroom.”

Lila made eye contact with her friend in her rearview mirror. “Didn’t you go at the last gas station?”

“Yes, but I have to go again.”

“And you went at that market down the road—Pinewood Market.”

“I know, but I drank my whole thermos of water.” She groaned.

“My navigation says the local coffee shop should be just around the corner. We can stop in there if you can’t wait until we check in at Fireside Cabins.”

“Yes, please,” Piper squealed.

Edie pointed to a tiny shack of a structure with an old farmhouse-style sign that said Coffee in black letters. “There it is, I think,” she told them. “Is that the name of it? Just Coffee?”

Lila pulled the car into the narrow gravel lot and cut off the engine. Piper shot out and ran inside, while the others followed.

Putting her hands on her hips, Charlotte fanned out her long winter coat and assessed the place. “Kind of rustic…”

Lila had to admit that the online photos of the town must have been taken at a very good angle, with lots of filters, because Main Street—which had looked like a quaint Christmas escape in the photos—more resembled a tiny spot along the road. The shops were quaint, their picture windows filled with wares, but only a few folks strolled about, the sidewalks mostly empty. Perhaps it was a winter lull. There was a used bookstore, a café, a small market, and a gas station. “Let’s go check it out,” she said, trying to make the best of it.

She took in the simple, unsophisticated décor of the coffee shop as they stood at the entrance. It was a no-frills kind of place. A log table sat outside with a view of Main Street, but the porch was empty, buried under snow. Lila could imagine the old oak trees in the fall, set against the backdrop of the small town with the hills in the distance, and what looked like a grand farm just beyond. She was willing to bet that it would be stunning when the leaves had all changed color, a little different than the barren empty branches that now reached out toward the heavens, as if grasping for their lives.

They all walked in, and Lila found herself standing in the center of a cramped and dark dining area dotted with only a few odd customers. A stone fireplace flickered, the fire only dancing when the door to the place was open. It had an old, bare wood bar that stretched across the wall in front of them, and there was nothing by the register or on the tables to let anyone know it was Christmas. Encased in thick shellac on top of the bar were old guitar picks and sheet music, clearly paying homage to Music City. A soft bluesy country music track hummed above them. And a sad, forlorn Christmas wreath, which might have been alive last year, hung from the center wall above the bar. The barista standing under it didn’t appear to be full of festive spirit either. He was about their age, as rugged as a lumberjack, and staring at them with a frown and piercing blue eyes.

His gaze landed on the sparkly lettering of the T-shirts Charlotte had made, which they had all put on over their long-sleeved shirts. Then his head turned to the side and he leaned over to look past them, the skin between his brooding eyes wrinkling. “Can you shut the door, please?” he asked, as if he was bothered by their mere existence. “It gets cold in here.”

“Oh!” Lila jumped to follow his command. “Sorry.” She turned around and grabbed the doorknob, shutting out the view of her old Volvo with the giant Christmas tree tied to the top, and wondering what he thought of it. She closed the door just as Piper joined them from the bathroom. “We saw your sign outside. Is that the name of this place?” Lila asked, making light conversation.

“Sure,” he answered.

“Sure?” Edie contested his answer, clearly put off by his lack of manners and obvious annoyance that they were even there. “So the coffee shop doesn’t have a name?”

“The locals don’t need a name. Do you, Johnny?” he called over to a man in bibbed overalls, who was reading the paper with a mug in his hand.

“Nope,” he yelled back.

“Charming,” Edie said under her breath. “Like Prince, but coffee. Marketing nightmare…”

“We’re vacationing here,” Charlotte told the man behind the bar, but he didn’t seem fazed by it, so she just went ahead and put in her drink order.

The barista huffed condescendingly at Charlotte’s selection as he grabbed a cup.

Lila asked for her usual latte and then plopped down into one of the chairs, ready to get their vacation started. The coffee shop wouldn’t be the height of their Christmas merriment, certainly, but it was at least warm and the fire was nice.

“I read an article about this place last night when I was researching the area to get ideas about things to do this week, and it suggested that someone mysterious owns it,” Piper whispered into the center of their circle once they were all settled, one eye on the barista who still wasn’t giving them a minute of his attention. Piper was a walking celebrity aficionado by accident, due to her love of music and reading; she knew anything and everything about music. She could give you endless strings of concert dates, celebrity musician sightings, and song lyrics.

Piper stretched her long arms out onto the table casually, her beaded bracelets tapping together. “No one knows who the owner is for sure. The article I read said all the transactions have been made under the pseudonym Brian Brown, but no one believes he exists. There are no records of anyone in this area with that name. If you ask the barista, they say he won’t utter a word about it. Maybe he’s undercover or something. Or famous.”

Lila tried not to be conspicuous while she stole a look at the guy behind the counter to whom she’d just given her drink order. His face was strikingly attractive, with dark hair to match the shadow of stubble and those bright blue eyes. He had a resigned look on his face while he reluctantly frothed the latte he was making. Then suddenly he made eye contact and her blood ran cold.

“Hey, I don’t have any almond milk for your latte,” he said to her, in a way that made it seem like he was resentful at having to use his energy to speak. “All I’ve got is real milk.”

Lila got up so they didn’t have to yell across the dining area. “You’re a coffee shop and you don’t have an alternative to dairy? What if I was allergic?”

He frowned. “Are you?”

“No, but still.”

With his eyes on her, he picked up the jug of whole milk and tipped it, letting it glug into the frothing cup as if to spite her. When he’d finished topping off the espresso in her cup, he said, “Lids are at the back,” and slid it toward her, nodding to a small stack of supplies at the end of the counter.

“Well, if we’re going the dairy route, I want whipped cream,” she said, sliding it back to him.

“It’s extra. Twenty cents.”

“No, it’s not. Because I ordered an almond milk latte, which you have on your menu.” She pointed to the wooden sign with the list of drinks on the wall above the bar. “And if you’re out of ingredients,” her words came out syrupy sweet, “no matter what I’d ordered, you should give me some whipped cream as a consolation for making me take a drink I wasn’t prepared to have.” Just before he denied her, she added, “But none of that matters because you charge an extra twenty-five cents for almond milk when I only got dairy milk, so you actually owe me a nickel.” She scooted the cup a little further toward him. “But we’ll call it even.”

Those blue eyes glistened with interest for a moment, and she had to work to keep herself steady, but then it was gone, his face irritated and smug again. He unenthusiastically added whipped cream onto the top of her latte, but the can was empty, causing it to spit out all over her and the cup. Lila jumped back with a squeal, brushing the white globules off her coat as he handed her cup back.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“That’s all. Thank you,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and returning to her friends. “I don’t think he’s anyone famous,” Lila said quietly, disgust on her face. She glanced back over at him once more.

Charlotte leaned forward. “Even though he is pretty cute.”

“Definitely not,” Piper said with a chuckle. “Famous, I mean. As for the cuteness factor, he’s got that going for him.” She tucked her long white-blonde hair behind her ear and reached for her coffee.

“So tell us about your date, Lila,” Charlotte piped up, changing the subject. “I’m dying to know what Kyle was like!”

Lila made a face. “I’ll never trust your blind date suggestions again,” she told her friend.

Charlotte burst into laughter.

“I can hardly match my Tupperware lids to the correct bowls on a regular basis, and that guy had me dangling from the edge of a mountain. I had to put all my faith in staying alive with these little color-coded hooks jutting out from the rock, and the tether that I prayed I’d clipped on to it correctly. Never again.”

She should have seen the red flag when he told her to be sure to have cash for the parking.

“You aren’t coming to pick me up?” she’d asked, while drawing her lip-gloss across her lower . . .