Dreaming of a Heart Lake Christmas

Book 1: Heart Lake

by Sarah Robinson

Genres: Holiday books; Small Town & Rural; Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Holiday Romance

Synopsis

Just in time for the holidays, a delightful and heartwarming second-chance romance for fans of Brenda Novak, Annie Rains, and Debbie Mason!

Release date: October 26, 2021

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 352

Sample

Twenty Years Ago

Tanner Dean frowned as he stood in front of his parents’ sprawling Victorian lake house, loosening his black tie. The somber drone of guests milling around the living room and reminiscing about his mother’s life sounded like melancholic white noise from the driveway. He rolled his shoulders, his muscles straining against the too-tight formal jacket. He hadn’t worn this suit since his baseball awards dinner last year, and it barely fit over his broadening teenage shoulders. Dozens of cars filled the wide tree-lined street and spilled over into his neat front yard.

He walked over to the red pickup truck that was half on the thick green grass and half on the driveway, glaring at the deep grooves the tires had left in the dirt. He’d only just gotten his license a year ago, but even at his age, he knew the damage a heavy truck could have on someone’s yard.

That was the last thing he wanted his dad to have to deal with after today.

“Tanner?”

He turned around to see his younger sister’s best friend approaching him.

“They are, um… they are about to start the slide show.” Magnolia Bennett looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her dark red painted nails. “Your dad asked me to find you so you could join.”

“Do you see all this, Nola?” He waved his hand toward the de facto parking lot that had sprung up. “It’s a complete mess.”

She looked around, her brows knitting. “What?”

“The grass.” Tanner squatted down to survey the damage closer. “See what this guy’s tires did? That’s going to take a lot of landscaping work to fix.”

Nola placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him back to a standing position. “We can figure out the yard tomorrow. Let’s go inside.”

His eyes found hers, and he paused for a moment as he registered the concern in her expression. He glanced behind her toward the house. Two women stood on the front porch dressed in black dresses, both crying as they spoke, their blond heads close together—one was his old third-grade teacher, the other the president of the PTA. His mother had been adored in Heart Lake, and her funeral this morning had certainly been an example of just how deep that love had run.

His stomach churned at the thought of walking back into that house—into that crowd. All the open feelings. The hugs and empty apologies. Sweat pooled against his collar as he imagined it.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice slightly above a whisper. He cleared his throat. “I’m just… just… Not yet. Okay?”

Nola nodded, her eyes soft. “Okay.”

He looked around, unsure of what he wanted to do instead. He felt lost, and everything seemed so overwhelming that he couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought in his head. Despite the fact that he’d known this was coming, he still felt surprised. His mother had been battling breast cancer for years, but the last six months had taken a dramatic turn that had been difficult for his entire family to watch.

“I have some poster board in the trunk of my car leftover from the career fair at school,” Nola added after a quiet moment had passed between them. “What if we made some signs telling people where to park?”

Tanner hesitated, and the corner of her full lips curled in a soft smile.

“I won’t make you talk, or ask how you’re feeling,” she added. “Deal?”

He nodded, grateful that she seemed to understand what he needed. He didn’t want to say anything—he was too empty for that. But it would be good to have something to do with his hands, anything to be useful on this day when he felt so helpless. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

She led him to her small coupe parked against the curb halfway down the block. Nola popped open her trunk and handed him a few pieces of poster board and a handful of markers. “I don’t have any stakes to put them in the ground, but I have tape. We could tape one to the mailbox or something like that.”

“I can get some stakes from the shed.” Tanner placed the blank poster board on top of the hood of her car and began writing parking instructions in large, black letters. “And I think we have a staple gun in there, too.”

“That’s a good idea,” Nola agreed, working beside him on an off-center red NO PARKING sign.

They worked quickly and quietly, finishing the signs and gathering a few wooden stakes and a staple gun. Nola helped him position each board as he stapled it into place and stuck it in the ground. When they were finished, Tanner felt a tension ease in his chest. He watched Nola as she straightened the last sign and stepped back. Ironically, this had been the longest amount of time they’d spent around one another that hadn’t involved arguing. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, but Magnolia was younger than him and was his kid sister’s annoying friend. She tended to be a bit bratty and spoiled, but right now he didn’t see any of that. He’d seen her and his cousin Amanda holding Rosie’s hand during the service. They seemed to keep his sister upright throughout the entire funeral and that meant the world to him. He needed to know Rosie was okay, but he didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to step in himself. It comforted him to know that she had people who could do that for her.

“Ready to go inside?” he asked Nola, though he was really asking himself.

She nodded but didn’t speak. Instead, she slid her arm around his and walked with him back toward the house. He appreciated the gesture, even though she was much shorter than he was and he had to bend sideways to accommodate the height difference. Nola Bennett might just be his sister’s best friend, but he supposed she wasn’t so bad overall.

Hell, she just might be the one good part of today.

It had been some time since Magnolia Bennett had seen the giant lit-up mechanical pine cone in the middle of the town square in Heart Lake, Michigan. A long-held holiday tradition, it perfectly encapsulated the whimsical nature of Nola’s small hometown. A smile tilted the corners of her perfectly glossed lips as she drove past the reminder of childhood memories and turned off of Main Street to find herself pulling into the Hobbes Grocery Store parking lot.

Putting the car in park, Nola took a minute to stare out her windshield at the familiar storefront decorated with red-and-green wreaths and Christmas trees to celebrate the upcoming holiday. The last time she was here had been for her grandmother Gigi’s funeral, and while that had been almost a year ago, she still wasn’t sure she could bear all the old reminders of someone she had cherished so much. Which Hobbes would no doubt be chock-full of—both memories and people who would want a piece of her.

After taking a deep breath through her nose, Nola exhaled slowly out of her mouth. There was no escaping the errand tonight. After all, she needed to stock up on food—and wine, of course—before hunkering down for the next week or two at her grandmother’s home, also known lovingly as “The Castle” by those around town. It was a historic site for the area, reminiscent of an era long gone, and Gigi had left the entire place to Nola in her will. She had been shocked when she’d found out, but there was no doubt Gigi would have done something so kind as her dying wish. It was the type of person she was. She had wanted Nola to succeed, and the money from the sale of the house would certainly help Nola launch her own consulting practice. Gigi had always supported Nola’s dreams—so much, in fact, that she’d helped pay for her MBA at Northwestern and still found the time to send her a dozen of her famous snickerdoodles on the first of every month. Those were much appreciated given Nola’s complete inability to cook, or bake, or do anything remotely domestic.

Thankfully, she already had a buyer for The Castle lined up—Craig, her former high school boyfriend, who now ran a very successful real estate development company in the area. His plans to turn the lot into an upscale waterfront condominium complex next spring was certainly going to benefit the town by bringing in new, wealthier residents that could finally put Heart Lake on the map. Western Michigan wasn’t a bustling metropolis, and so modernizing the homey old towns seemed like a great way to help it catch up to the times.

At least, that was what Nola had decided to tell herself.

Grabbing her purse, she stepped out of her car and found herself sliding slightly on the icy ground as she made her way to the store’s entrance. High heels might not have been the best choice for the current weather, but where she had come from, convenience was compromised for beauty. Chicago certainly wasn’t New York or Los Angeles, but it had the Magnificent Mile, and a young woman in the business world was expected to look the part. With sharp heels, tight pencil skirts, and a blazer that reminded everyone she was there to make a statement, Nola had found herself quickly enveloped by the bustling city when she’d first gone there for college and then never left. Gigi had often gently remarked that Nola hadn’t come home enough, but it had always been hard to find the time to visit because of her job as a senior manager at a business consulting firm. She’d like to say she had a thriving social life that kept her busy as well, but that wouldn’t be honest. True, she had a great spin class worth rolling out of bed at 6:00 a.m. for five days a week and a gaggle of friendly coworkers to grab a coffee or cocktail with on the nights she didn’t work late. But was it home?

No. It was work. Heck, she barely ever saw the inside of her Wrigleyville condo during daylight hours, let alone the nearby baseball stadium.

Still, she was happy—busy, yes, but she was going places. You don’t get to rise up the ladder if you aren’t willing to put in the effort.

“Can it be?” Nola lifted her eyes to see a woman standing just inside the doorway of the quaint grocery store. Adorned in a brightly colored knitted poncho, her grandmother’s best friend, Marvel, stepped in for a hug. “My God, it is you! How long are you home for?” The tiny woman wrapped her arms around Nola and squeezed tightly before taking a step back and clapping her hands. “Good Lord, you smell lovely. What’s that perfume you’re wearing?”

“Chanel.” A warmth crept up Nola’s cheeks. “Gigi gave me my first bottle on my sixteenth birthday and I guess it’s my signature now.”

“It’s perfectly Magnolia.” Marvel inhaled deeply. “Classy yet sweet.”

Few people still called her by her full name, but Nola didn’t mind. Marvel had always been one of her favorite people—a local potter who was every bit the aged hippie, she had been close friends with Gigi for years. It was an unusual friendship in many ways, since Gigi had been at least twenty years older than Marvel and every bit the supporter of etiquette and sophistication that Marvel couldn’t care less for. Gigi was known for her high collars, pearls, and ability to transport guests back to the Victorian age when they would visit The Castle. Somehow, though, the two women had become best friends despite having almost nothing in common. Marvel owned a clay studio in town and did unusual events like pot throwing and smash-the-art nights. Gigi had always claimed throwing pots was the perfect cure for her arthritis, and admittedly, Nola had enjoyed a few nights smashing clay sculptures herself.

“Well, I am actually back in town to do a little work. Just here to grab some food and supplies for the week. I’m staying at Gigi’s for the holidays.” She tossed her light-brown hair over her shoulder and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her jacket.

Marvel clapped her hands together. “How is The Castle? I miss that place. Heck, I miss your grandmother. I loved that woman’s spirit fiercely. It’s so wonderful that you’re able to come back for a visit. Are your parents coming for the holidays as well?”

Nola shook her head. “I wish, but they are on a tropical vacation in a Costa Rican cloud forest for the month.”

“Costa Rica?” Marvel lifted her graying brows. “I’m surprised you’re not there with them!”

“They offered, but I wanted a bit of old-fashioned holiday spirit this year.” Though, the truth was she was going to be preparing the home to be sold. She wasn’t quite ready to tell that to Marvel, however. She wasn’t sure why, but it just felt like a decision that might cause some backlash… Better to put it off. “Plus, they’ve never had much time just to themselves. I think they deserve a romantic trip in their retirement.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling. I always said I was going to travel the world one day, but here we are.” Marvel shrugged her shoulders, then pointed to a back aisle. “Hey, do you know what they just started stocking? Plant burgers. Can you believe it? It looks like meat, except without the murder and torture of innocent animals.”

Nola snorted, trying not to laugh out loud. Marvel was a staunch vegan and only recently had more and more options become available to her in such a small town. “I have heard of them before but never tried one,” she admitted.

“Let’s do tea at The Castle later this week. I’ll bring some with me and we can sit out on the porch overlooking the water. That view of the lake… can’t beat it!”

She nodded, though she wasn’t interested in making big commitments with her time right now. “Sure, we can do tea.”

“Great! I’ll give you a call a bit later. I have to dash, darling, but we have so much to catch up on!” Marvel gave her an exuberant wave and then headed out into the cold air.

Nola turned back toward the store and grabbed a small cart as she began wandering the aisles. The selection was limited compared to what she was used to in Chicago, but she did manage to find a few favorites—a few bags of rice cakes, some holiday-themed Oreos, and a couple of frozen dinners. Plus all the wine. She’d stocked up on several bottles of red, as well as some dark roast coffee.

Priorities.

“Why, Magnolia Bennett! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Perry Mott stood in the middle of the liquor aisle holding a bottle of rum. As Heart Lake High School’s beloved woodshop teacher, Perry was a favorite among every alum.

“Hi, Mr. Mott,” Nola greeted the older gentleman, wondering when he’d aged so much. She’d only seen him a year ago or so, but he seemed more frail and tired than before, despite the big smile on his face. “I see you’re stocking up for your famous eggnog.”

“Perry, please.” He lifted the bottle of rum proudly. “My annual Heart Lake High School faculty party is coming up! You should come!”

“I’m not faculty,” she reminded him.

He waved a hand like that was nonsense. “But you like eggnog, and that’s all that really matters.”

“Thanks, Mr. er… Perry. You’ll have to save me some!” Nola gave him a quick hug before snatching up a fourth bottle of wine and heading back to the cashier. She had always loved Heart Lake, and there was no doubt that the people of this town were kind and loving. But she was here on a mission. She wanted to get in and out and call it a day. Honestly, every time she ran into someone she knew or thought of walking into The Castle, her heart squeezed a little with the painful thought that Gigi wouldn’t be wandering these streets anymore.

Climbing into her car with her purchases, Nola set off for The Castle. Her route took her back down Main Street. The quaint shops lining the street had the perfect small-town charm that was classic Americana, and they were all beautifully decorated for the holidays with lights, wreaths, trees, and more. But Nola knew behind each shop window was a struggling small-business owner trying to stay afloat. In Chicago, her job was to help mom-and-pop businesses build and grow, so it was impossible not to see her hometown and think of how much they were missing out on. A few small changes to diversify sales and build a robust commerce platform with a little out-of-the-box thinking could revive these little businesses into national treasures.

Ideas for improving the small businesses in Heart Lake began churning in her brain, but her thoughts were interrupted by the loud ringing of her cell phone. Her car was equipped with Bluetooth, so she clicked the button on her steering wheel to connect the call over her speakers.

“Hello?” Nola answered, mentally praying, please don’t be work, please don’t be work.

“Nola, darling, I was just inquiring… have you managed to send Spades the plan for their new social media handles?” Her boss—Charles St. John, the British-born CEO of St. John Consulting, one of Chicago’s biggest marketing firms—had a discordant, reedy voice that had the same effect on her ears as an elementary schooler playing the recorder. No doubt he was calling to mansplain something she already knew perfectly well. Charles didn’t even bother to say hello or ask how she was doing. “It was due today, you know.”

“I sent it to them yesterday,” she confirmed. Spades was a new distillery company that they were helping to promote.

“And did you include the promotions with the other businesses from the local bar and restaurant association? It’s very important to have cross-promotion from related businesses in a launch like this one. We need them all to want to stock this brand.”

Nola rolled her eyes, her nostrils flaring at the useless information. Still, she kept her tone steady and professional as she responded, “Yes, Charles. Everything is ready to go.”

This was exactly why she needed to sell The Castle and leave her job. She wanted to start her own consulting practice where she’d be the boss, rather than doing all the work while men like Charles took the credit. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she’d do all the legwork, and then he’d take credit in front of the clients as though he’d done the entire project himself. In a male-dominated industry, she was beginning to see a pattern of that happening, and it was time to make some changes.

But first, she needed to find the resources to launch her own female-forward small-business consulting firm.

“Great,” Charles responded, then launched into a long tirade about business-to-business sales that she’d heard a dozen times. Heck, she’d probably written the script. She gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to practice slow belly breathing to keep herself from snapping at him. All that yoga and meditation came in handy sometimes.

Suddenly, a snowball flew out of nowhere and slammed into the driver’s side window.

“Shit!” Nola yelled, completely caught off guard by the loud thunk.

“Excuse me?” Charles responded. “Did you just say my pitch was shit?”

Nola grimaced. “Oh, no! Sorry, Charles. I’m driving and something hit my car. I’ll call you back!”

She definitely was not going to call him back but quickly hit the end button and pulled her car over to the curb to ensure everything was fine. Her heart was still pounding in her chest at the scare, but she tried to shake it off as she unbuckled and stepped out into the snow. Her toes immediately curled in her heels at the cold moisture seeping through.

“Aunt Magnolia!” Little voices cheered her name as another snowball whizzed right past her head.

Becca and Zander, her best friend’s twins and her godchildren, were waving to her from a few yards away. Piled high in jackets and outdoor gear, their little cherub faces were rosy from the cold as they bounced toward her with arms wide open. Her first instinct was to scold them for hitting her car and causing a potentially dangerous scenario, but the look of adoration in their eyes was enough to still her annoyance and make her open her arms to them for a hug as well.

“Becca, Zander! Oh, I’ve missed you!” She wrapped the twins in her arms and squeezed them.

They squealed and squirmed, soaking her dress with their snow-covered jackets.

“Who is supposed to be watching you two?” Nola asked. “You can’t be out here all by yourself. You could have caused an accident!”

“Uncle Tanner is babysitting while Mama’s at the store,” Becca informed her, and Nola immediately gritted her teeth.

Of course Tanner would be somehow tied to this fiasco. He might be Heart Lake’s favorite bachelor—and one of the hottest, most ruggedly handsome men she’d ever seen—but anytime he was around Nola, all they did was bicker. She was going to find him and give him a piece of her mind.

“It’s still leaning to the left!”

Tanner Dean rubbed a calloused hand across his forehead and brows, trying to swallow the irritation building in him, while his other hand held steady a twenty-foot-tall Christmas tree in his father’s vaulted-ceiling living room. He pushed the tree more toward the right. “How’s this?”

“Now it’s too far to the right. The base isn’t even. You’ll have to take it down and cut it,” Thomas Dean replied, barking orders from the stuffed recliner that had definitely seen better days. The rest of Thomas’s living room and his entire house was professionally decorated—Tanner’s sister, Rosie, had enlisted their cousin Amanda’s help with that—and it was beautiful enough to be photographed in Home Digest, except for the plaid recliner with loose threads and faded patches placed in the center of the living room with perfect proximity to the fireplace to feel the warmth on cold winter nights. With the damn chair aimed squarely at the television, it was a safe bet that is where Tanner would find his father if he ever needed him.

Tanner still had memories of his mother arguing with his father over how ugly the chair was. In fact, he was pretty sure that his father had kept it all those years just to annoy her. After she’d passed away from breast cancer while Tanner was still in high school, his father had never really been the same. He was pretty sure he kept the chair now as a token of her memory. If there was one thing he’d known about his parents, it was how deeply they loved each other—and how passionately they argued with one another. He didn’t remember a day when the two weren’t on opposite sides of an issue, but their love and dedication to each other and their children was unwavering.

Tanner and his father weren’t in complete agreement about everything either, but Tanner did appreciate how his dad had stepped up and taken care of Rosie and him after their mother had died. He cooked dinner for them every night, always welcomed their friends over with a hot pot of chili, and still made it to watch every game Tanner played while also running a successful local business. He was ornery in his old age, but there was no doubt that he was a good man and an even better father.

“Dad, it’s even. I already made sure of it before I put it in the stand. Just tell me if it’s straight, will you?” Tanner grabbed the saw and went to work at the base of the tree, attempting to flatten the trunk to allow for a straighter edge. Hopefully then it would stand up in a simple line and his father could return to his shows.

“No, I think the base is uneven,” Thomas remarked before taking a sip of his dark beer.

Tanner sent up a silent prayer for patience before shifting the tree a bit to the left and then back to its original spot. “Now?”

He was trying his best to be understanding, but a please or thank you here or there certainly might have helped the situation. Tanner knew that his father’s bad back was keeping him from being part of the holiday prep, as well as from his work at Dean & Son Custom Construction. That didn’t make it any less frustrating to get unsolicited advice on how to saw a tree when Tanner himself was a professional woodworker. Dean & Son Custom Construction wasn’t a one-man show, and Tanner had come on board against his better judgment at the behest of his father. It wasn’t that he hated it—in fact, he was very talented at all things construction and woodworking. Genetics clearly carried skills down a generation. But Tanner also didn’t love it. He saw the passion in his father’s eyes when he used to work, and that same feeling was missing for Tanner. Still, however, it was his father’s dream to leave the company to him. So, here they were.

“If you’re going to do something, do it right,” Thomas continued to rant from the recliner.

A loud pounding came from the front door.

“What in the heck?” Thomas jolted in his chair and turned to look at the door. “Who is that?”

Tanner stood up abruptly and unceremoniously dumped the tree on the living room carpet to go find out the answer.

“You can’t just leave it like this,” his dad protested. “You’re getting pine needles all over the carpet!”

Tanner shrugged his shoulders. “I have to answer the door. It’s probably some carolers from Grace Lake Church down the street.”

Truthfully, some young kids singing Christmas songs badly would be an enjoyable break from the tension in the Dean household. Tanner swung open the large wooden front door, smiling wide when he suddenly froze.

Nola Bennett was standing on the front porch with his niece and nephew in either hand. Former queen bee of Heart Lake High School, Nola had been his teenage crush for as long as he could remember. She was older now as she stood in front of him with her jaw tight and her nostrils flared—the typical irritated expression she always had when they were around one another. But age had done nothing to dim her beauty. Her brown hair now had red highlights that perfectly matched the rosy tone of her flushed cheeks, and her deep-brown eyes were as piercing as they always were. Her nose was pointed, but in a way that fit her face perfectly and gave her an edge that matched her personality. Despite their history of bickering over literally everything and the fact that there ha. . .