Hattie was about to say she couldn’t possibly do that when Delphi pressed her face against the glass of the dining room and waved at her mother, gesturing for her to join them.
Hattie waved back. They’d woken early and opened presents under the tree, and Noah had cooked breakfast and supplied plenty of strong coffee, which both of them needed after a night where sleep had not been a priority.
“Go.” Lynda gave her a gentle nudge. “Take some time with them. You’ve worked hard all morning, now it’s time to enjoy your own Christmas.”
“I really shouldn’t—”
“You definitely should.” Erica added her voice to Lynda’s. “We can handle this. Go and play in the snow.”
“Go.” Anna added her voice to the others. She was wearing a new sweater, this one apparently knitted by her daughter, who was currently engaged in spirited banter with her brother.
Hattie could see what a close family they were by the way they communicated, and the love between Anna and Pete was clear to see. Anna had brought the kids stockings from home, and Chloe had helped her stuff them with gifts at midnight. It was a way of incorporating the old traditions with the new.
Change was unavoidable, Hattie thought, and it was better to embrace it than fight it. Better to see the future as an opportunity rather than a threat.
“By the way, your new chef is not only a genius in the kitchen but she loves reading,” Lynda said. “I’ve already enrolled her in our book club. Our next meeting will be in January. We’re holding it here, in the library, as that worked so well. I hope that’s all right with you. We’re all hoping you’ll join us.”
“It’s more than all right.” She imagined expanding that idea, and welcoming small groups of readers to stay at the inn. “And I’d love to join you.”
“Claudia was telling me that the pair of you have designed a special book club menu. You should rename the place The Book Club Hotel.”
Hattie smiled. “That’s not a bad idea.”
There was so much she could do and the infinite possibilities were exciting rather than daunting. Perhaps it was because she no longer felt alone with it. She had Claudia and Chloe, she had Erica and Lynda. Most of all she had Noah.
Her gaze met his through the glass and she saw something in his eyes that made her breath catch.
Without waiting to be told again she left the dining room, closing the door on the laughter and the celebrations. She grabbed her coat and stepped outside into the winter wonderland, appreciating the blue skies and the icy sparkle of fresh snow in the few seconds before Delphi spotted her. The child sprinted across as fast as she could, her movements restricted by her outdoor clothing. Hattie scooped her up and held her tightly and then Noah arrived and put his arms around both of them.
Hattie closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of him and feeling her daughter’s hair tickle her cheek.
The child and the man. Her present and her future.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Publishing a book is a team effort and I owe many people thanks. I’m grateful to my publishing teams CSP in the US, and HQ in the UK, for their dedication and creativity. I’m fortunate that the support they offer is not only for the book but also for me, the author. I couldn’t ask for a better publisher.
Thanks to my brilliant editor, Flo Nicoll, who makes every book better and does so with generous enthusiasm.
I’m grateful to my wonderful agent, Susan Ginsburg, Catherine Bradshaw and the entire team at Writers House.
To all the booksellers, librarians, bloggers, reviewers—thank you for championing my books. And to my readers, many of whom have read my work from the beginning, thank you for continuing to read my stories and for your encouraging messages. I love hearing from you.
Finally, to my friends and family for their unfailing support. You’re the best.
Keep reading for a sneak peek of USA TODAY bestseller Sarah Morgan’s next novel, coming this summer from Canary Street Press!
Upcoming Novel
by Sarah Morgan
Lily tightened her grip on the handlebars and pedalled harder. Here on the northern tip of Cape Cod while the rest of humankind were still sleepy and had barely reached for the coffee pot, she felt as if the place was hers.
All around her were sand dunes and the ocean stretching as far as she could see. She cycled this same route every day, and every day was different. Today the sky was a vivid blue, but she’d seen burnt orange, flame red and smoky silver.
It was a place favored by migratory birds and tourists and generally she preferred the first to the second. The day before she’d seen a blue heron and two snowy egrets. As far as she was concerned the fewer humans the better, but she owed her job to the influx of summer people so she wasn’t complaining.
She breathed deeply, letting the salt air fill her lungs and her mind. She felt free here on this windblown, sunbaked strip of seashore. For the first time in months she felt better. Stronger. As if she might survive after all.
She felt something close to happiness and then her phone buzzed and the feeling left her in a rush.
She pedalled faster, trying to outrun its insistent demand. She didn’t have to look to identify the caller. It was ten in the morning exactly. Only one person called her routinely at that time.
Goddamn it.
Guilt made her brake and she pulled over, breathless, and dug out her phone. If she didn’t take the call now, she’d be taking it later and the thought of it looming in her future would darken the skies of an otherwise cloudless day. This was the price she had to pay for living virtually off grid.
“Lily, honey? It’s Mom.”
Of course it was.
She’d been expecting this call, ever since she’d declined their invitation to come home and “talk things over.” Still, every time she saw her mother’s name pop up on her phone screen she felt sick. They’d made huge sacrifices for her, and she’d as good as slapped them in the face. And she hadn’t even given them a reason.
She was a bad daughter.
“I’m on my way to work, Mom. I can’t be late.” Never had dirty pots and pans and other people’s laundry seemed more appealing. She’d rather deal with that any day than talk to her parents. Every conversation left her so twisted with guilt she was almost convulsing. “Is everything all right?”
“No, it isn’t. We’re so worried about you, Lily.” Her mother’s tone was shaky. “We don’t understand what’s going on. Why won’t you tell us?”
Lily tightened her grip on the phone. “Nothing is going on, Mom. And you don’t need to worry.”
“Can you blame us? We have a bright, brilliant daughter who has chosen to throw away the life she worked hard for. And with no reason.”
There was a reason. She just hadn’t shared it.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“Are you eating? Have you put on some weight? You were skin and bones when you left here.”
“I’m eating. I’m sleeping. I’m good, really. How are you and Dad?”
“We miss you, obviously. Come home, Lily. We can cook for you, and spoil you and look after you.”
She knew what going home would mean. She loved her parents, but they’d hover over her with frowning concerned faces until she ended up worrying more about them than herself. The pressure of pretending to be okay had been exhausting.