Road to Christmas Past

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Holiday Romance; Romantic Suspense; Holiday books

Synopsis

Holly Thompson’s life changed forever when she received an early Christmas present from her dead Aunt Meg. Prior to her death, her former foster mother won the gorgeous PI during one of her Tuesday morning poker games. The only survivor of a tragic automobile accident when she was only days old, Holly grew up never knowing who she was or where she came from. When Ben Holiday claimed to have a clue about her past, Holly set out on a Christmas road trip in the hope of finding the family she never knew she had. Road to Christmas Past is a tender romance that will remind you of the power of love and the importance of family.

Release date: December 2, 2013

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Print pages: 284

Sample

Chapter 1

Tuesday, November 26

 

“Four shots, nonfat, extra hot, no foam.” Holly Thompson’s tall, dark-haired assistant, Jessica Stewart, set a latte in front of her. “Whole wheat bagel with cream cheese on the side and today’s letters.” She set those next to the cup. “My favorite is on the top.”

Holly, a petite blonde with blue eyes and a sunny smile, tucked a lock of her long hair behind her ear, adjusted the glasses on her nose, and picked up the letter from the top of the stack. She glanced at the letter while Jessica perched on the side of her desk, sipping from her own coffee. 

For the past three years, Holly had worked as an advice columnist for a popular weekly women’s magazine. Her commitment to offering practical solutions to complex situations set her apart from other advice columns, sending her reader share to the top of the charts.

“Looks good,” Holly commented after scanning the handwritten note. “Get me the woman’s contact information and we’ll see where it goes. Do I have any messages?” 

“Actually, yes.” Jessica set down her legal pad and pulled a note out of her pocket. “Phillip wanted me to remind you that he needs your copy early this week due to the holiday weekend.”

“Holiday weekend?”

“Thanksgiving,” Jessica reminded her.

“Oh, yeah. Go on.”

“Kira wants to know if you got the tickets for the benefit next month, and Derek left a message asking if you wanted to do lunch.” 

“Tell Phillip he’ll have next week’s column by the end of the day. Call Derek and tell him I’ll have to take a rain check on lunch, then call and get four tickets to the PETA benefit next month. If you’re able to get the tickets, call Kira, see where she wants to have dinner, and make the reservations. Things tend to get busy in December. Oh, and see if you can find me a date.”

“A date? What kind of date?”

Holly shrugged. “The benefit is black tie, so preferably someone who has a black tie. Other than that, use your discretion.”

“You don’t want to go with Derek?”

“Derek?” Holly frowned.

“Derek Quinn,” Jessica reminded her. “The man you’ve been dating for the past five months.”

“Derek and I aren’t dating. We’re just . . .”

“Colleagues,” Jessica said, anticipating her response.

“Friends,” Holly countered.

Jessica smiled patiently, as she would at a child who was a little slow. “I’m sorry to break this to you, but you’re dating. Ask anyone.”

Holly frowned as she tried to digest what Jessica was telling her. 

“For someone who gives absolutely brilliant answers to others concerning their love lives, you are totally clueless when it comes to your own,” Jessica teased. “For future reference, when a very eligible single man takes you to dinner several times a week, showers you with gifts for absolutely no reason, and sends flowers on a regular basis, you’re dating.”

“Derek gave me one necklace he brought back from his trip to Paris. He doesn’t shower me with gifts.”

“Maybe not, but trust me, as far as he’s concerned, you’re dating. In fact, the entire third floor is involved in a pool to predict when he’ll pop the question.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Holly snorted. “We haven’t even . . .” Holly paused, and Jessica simply smiled at her boss’s discomfort. “Well, you know. Still, I guess I should talk to him.” 

“I think that might be a good idea.”

Holly sighed. She hated to ruin the friendship she thought she had with Derek by pointing out to him that she was in no way interested in any type of serious relationship, but she supposed she owed him some clarification. It wasn’t that Derek wasn’t perfectly datable. He was indeed quite the catch, but Holly didn’t have time to date. She had goals, ambitions, and a timeline that didn’t account for a serious relationship for at least another five years. 

“Anything else?” Holly asked.

“Noel’s on line three and Warren just called up from the lobby. I gather we have a very interesting delivery on the way up.”

“Interesting how?”

Jessica shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t say, but he was snickering, so I’m guessing it isn’t your normal brown box.”

“Okay.” Holly picked up her latte. “I’ll talk to Noel while I drink my coffee. Buzz me when the delivery gets here.” 

“Hey, Noel,” Holly greeted Noel Davis, her best friend in the entire world. Leaning back in her chair, she swiveled around so that her back was to her door and she was able to look out of the window. “Hope Jessica didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“It’s okay. I was making the kids’ lunches while I waited,” Noel said. “I know it’s early, but I wanted to catch you before you got too busy. I really need to finalize our plans for next month.”

“Next month?”

“Christmas, silly. We’re going to have the best time this year. There is so much I need to tell you.” 

Holly knew that the Davis household was probably already decked out in Christmas attire, even though there was still two days until Thanksgiving. 

“Remember, I told you that Donny married that socialite from Manhattan?” Noel continued without waiting for Holly’s reply. “Well, you’ll never guess what happened...”

Holly stared at the skyline outside the window of her New York City office as Noel droned on about the latest news from her hometown of Moosehead, Minnesota. Normally, Holly loved catching up with her former foster sister, but since Meg’s death, tales of Donny Preston’s new wife and the plans for the Winter Ball had failed to hold her interest the way they once had. 

Holly tried to listen, but talking to Noel brought back memories she hadn’t found the courage to deal with quite yet. She picked up the picture of Aunt Meg that she kept on her desk and ran a finger over it. Aunt Meg was the only mother she had ever known. Holly had come to live in her large home filled with foster kids when she was only a few days old and had stayed until she left for college. 

“Sounds great,” she answered distractedly as she watched an early snow start to fall, “but I just don’t know if I can get away. Things are sort of hectic this year.” Holly rustled some of the folders on her desk for effect. “I have a million letters to read, and there’s a rumor going around that we might enter into talks to syndicate my column.”

“That’s great, Holly. I’m so happy for you. I really am, but still . . .” Noel jumped right in to what sounded like a rehearsed speech concerning the importance of balance in one’s life.

Tears filled Holly’s eyes as she remembered the previous Thanksgiving. She’d come home, as she had every year, to a house filled with love and laughter and the smell of pumpkin pie baking in the oven. She’d settled into her old room, then headed into town with Meg to help prepare the feast that would be served to those less fortunate in the town’s community center. After everyone had been served, she’d sat down with Meg, and they’d shared a meal, just the two of them. 

Friday had been tree-cutting day with Noel and her family, and Saturday she’d helped Meg decorate the huge farmhouse that, until a couple of years earlier, had housed a handful of foster kids at any given time. She loved Moosehead and missed the traditions there, but without Meg nothing would be the same.

“Holly, are you still there?” Noel interrupted her daydreams.

“I’m here.”

“So about Clay . . . What should I tell him?”

Clay? Holly racked her brain, trying to remember what Noel had been rambling on about. Oh, yes, the blind date.

“As appealing as this guy sounds, I’m going to have to see how things go. I really can’t make any promises at this point.”

“But you always come home for Christmas,” Noel said.

“Yeah, I know. But things are . . .” Holly looked down at the eight-by-ten photo she still held, “different this year.”

Noel paused. “I know. But if you don’t want to stay out at Meg’s, you can stay with us. We’d love to have you.”

“You have a rather large husband, four children under the age of ten, two dogs, four cats, and six goldfish, and you live in a shoebox,” Holly reminded her. “As much as I love you and your family, there’s no way you have room for a houseguest over the Christmas holiday.”

“There’s always the couch,” Noel suggested.

 “If I come to Moosehead for Christmas, and that’s a big if,” Holly cautioned, “I’ll stay at Aunt Meg’s. I guess I’m going to have to come home and figure out what to do with the place at some point anyway. It was really sweet of her to leave me the house, but honestly, I’m not sure I want it.”

“Holly,” Noel whispered, “Aunt Meg loved you. She loved all her kids, but she loved you the most. She wanted you to have the house. It’s your home.”

“Was my home,” Holly reminded her. “I live in New York now.” 

“You could move back. To Moosehead, I mean. You have the house, and I’m sure the local newspaper would hire you. And if that doesn’t work out, I’m sure we can find you something else.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about finding a job,” Holly clarified. “It’s just that Moosehead isn’t my home anymore. New York is.”

“Home is where your family is.” Noel sounded sad. 

“You know I love you,” Holly assured Noel. “You mean more to me than any other person on this planet, and we’ll always be family, but sometimes—uh, hang on.” Holly paused, holding her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone as Jessica poked her head in through her office door. 

“Your delivery is here,” Jessica informed her. “It’s an early Christmas present.”

“Just put it on the table with the others,” Holly instructed.

“It’s uh . . .” Jessica paused, “rather large. I think you should come take a look. This is definitely something you’re going to want to see.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there. Sorry,” Holly said, returning her attention to Noel. “I have some kind of delivery that requires my attention. I should go.”

“Okay.” Noel sounded reluctant to let her friend hang up before she could wrangle a commitment out of her to come home for the holidays. “Thanksgiving is the day after tomorrow. I can just picture you curling up in your tiny apartment with a frozen turkey dinner and a martini with extra olives. You’ll put on some old movie and fall asleep on your couch snuggled up with that life-size bed pillow you bought last time we went shopping. If you can get a flight into Minneapolis, I’ll come pick you up.” 

“Thanks for the offer, but I really need to stay here and get some work done. Besides, I have plans,” Holly lied. “A friend invited me to Thanksgiving dinner, so I won’t be alone.”

“Are we talking a friend of the male gender?” Noel asked.

“Yes, so you see, I’m fine.”

“Tell me everything.”

“I love you, but I really have to go.”

“I love you, too. I miss you. Please come home,” Noel pleaded.

“I’ll try. I’ll call you next week and we’ll talk about it.”

“Okay. Have fun at Thanksgiving. Call me when you get home from your date. I want all the details.”

“I’ll try, but it might be late.”

“Then call me the next morning. Assuming you’ll be at home the next morning,” Noel drawled seductively. 

“I’ll be home.” Holly grinned as she slammed down the phone.

Holly set the picture of Aunt Meg back down on her desk and buzzed Jessica. “So about this delivery . . . ?”

“Stay there; I’ll bring it in.”

Holly took a sip of her latte as Jessica opened the door connecting her office to the reception area and ushered in the most gorgeous man Holly had ever seen. She almost choked on her coffee as she stared speechlessly at the tall, dark-haired man, who had eyes bluer than her own, was dressed all in black, and had a huge red bow taped to his chest. 

“Can I help you?” she croaked as she stood up from behind her desk, straightening the short skirt of the gray business suit that had cost her a month’s salary.

“Ms. Thompson, my name is Ben Holiday.” His eyes crinkled as he beamed a lopsided smile and introduced himself. “I’m your Christmas present from Meg.”

“Meg?” Holly nervously tucked her long blonde hair behind one ear as she tried to wrap her mind around what the beautiful man was talking about. “Meg’s dead,” she informed him.

“I know. She made the arrangements before she . . . passed.”

“Meg bought you for me?”

“Actually, she won me. In a poker game.”

“She won you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Holly stared at the strange man in front of her, then started to laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Afraid not.”

“Did Noel send you?” Holly laughed harder. 

“No. Like I said, Meg made all the arrangements.”

“She won you in a poker game?” She grinned.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Holly studied the man in front of her. Broad shoulders, an apparently flat stomach behind the red bow, long legs, and the warmest smile she had ever seen. Thank you, Aunt Meg. 

“So now what? You said you were my Christmas present. Are you going to wash my dishes and vacuum my rugs?”

“Not exactly. More like you have use of my professional services between now and Christmas, free of charge, thanks to Meg and a straight flush.”

“Services?” Holly choked.

“Perhaps you should open the box.” The beautiful man handed her a small box wrapped in bright green paper. “It’s the second half of the present. Although . . .” He hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t the best time.”

“Now’s as good a time as any.” Holly shrugged as she took the box and ripped open the shiny wrapping paper. Inside were a DVD and two matching necklaces that looked old and expensive. They each prominently featured a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds that were placed artistically on a latticework of intricate gold design. Holly picked up one of the necklaces, then looked at the man, who had sat down on the chair opposite her desk.

“Do you have a DVD player in here?”

“Yes. It’s in the cabinet in the corner.”

Ben got up from the chair, walked across the room, and opened the cabinet to reveal a DVD player, as well as a small television. He slipped the tape into the player and hesitated. 

“Are you sure you want to do this now? The whole thing might be rather emotional.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Ben pushed play, and a screen-size image of Meg sitting in the rocker on her front porch appeared. “Holly,” she began speaking, “my beautiful child. Before I begin what is to be a fairly long and probably life-altering story, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. Many children have passed through my life over the years, and I’ve loved each and every one of them, but you are the only one who is truly mine.”

A single tear slid down Holly’s cheek. Ben pulled his chair around so that he was sitting beside her and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her as close as the bulky chairs would allow.

“We can do this later.”

“Let it play.”

“What I am about to tell you is probably something I should have told you long ago,” Meg continued. “I meant to. First I was waiting for you to get old enough to understand the significance of what I’m about to tell you, and then I was waiting for the right moment, a moment that somehow never came.”

Meg paused and looked away from the camera, as if trying to work up the courage to continue. Holly waited as Meg took several deep breaths before looking into the camera once more.

“Please don’t hate me for keeping this from you for all these years,” she gasped, “and please don’t hate me for telling you now. Remember that no matter what your feelings are about what I’m going to tell you, I love you with all my heart and have always tried to do what I thought was best for you.”

Ben wiped a tear from Holly’s cheek with the side of his finger as one tear turned into many. Seeing Meg, hearing her speak for the first time since she’d died, was almost more than Holly’s fragile heart could take. God, how she missed her.

“When you were five years old and Noel came to live with us, you asked me for the first time about your own parents,” Meg continued. “I told you that you came to me when you were only a few days old, and that your parents had been killed in a terrible auto accident, which left them so badly burned that their identities were never discovered. The police searched for months, but every lead turned out to be a dead end. Since you had no name, I named you Holly, and I gave you my own last name, Thompson.”

Meg hesitated, as if trying to pull her thoughts together. “I know you’ve always wondered about your birth parents: who they were, where you come from. When I beat Ben in a poker game and won his services for a month, I saw my opportunity not only to set things straight but to try to help you find your answers.” Meg smiled as she glanced at something or someone beyond the camera. Probably Ben, if, as Holly supposed, he was the one taping Meg’s final message to her. 

“Ben is a lousy poker player, one of the worst I’ve ever come across, but he’s an excellent private detective. If you decide you want to proceed with your search for your birth parents, you will have the use of his services for the next month. Before you decide whether or not to proceed with that project, there are a few things you need to know.”

“I can’t believe you bet yourself in a poker game.” Holly chuckled through her tears. “If you were totally out of money, why didn’t you just fold?”

“I wasn’t out of money.”

“Then why did you bet yourself instead of using tens and twenties, like a normal person?”

“That’s a story for another day.”

Meg started crying, bringing Holly’s focus back to the screen. “She looks so sad.”

“Scared.”

“Why?”