Hiding in Montana by Lucinda Race

Hiding in Montana, Book 2, Cowboys of River Junction

By Lucinda Race

Can love flourish while danger lurks in the shadow?

For Polly Carson, working the land on a Montana ranch is a dream come true. No one knows she’s on the run, carrying a secret that could endanger the big eclectic family she’s found on the ranch. Not even the man who rescued her broken body from the bottom of a ravine recognizes her. He doesn’t know that it was him who brought her to River Junction in hope of finding a safe haven and a chance to start over.

Something about Polly draws Clint Goodman, foreman of Grace Star Ranch, like a bee to wildflowers. If only he could remember why she seems so familiar. She trips his trigger for sure, but he’s been burned before. He loves his job and his cowboy life, but women want picket fences and a man who doesn’t work weekends. But maybe a woman like Polly is worth taking a second chance.

Polly’s a strong woman with a deep inner strength. Clint, the strong silent type, loves and respects her fierce independence. But just as their slow burn romance is heating up, Polly’s past returns to threaten her future. As lies and secrets are revealed, no one on the ranch will be safe.

Excerpt

Polly Carson stuck her leather work gloves in the back of her faded Levis. She sat back on her heels, surveying the row of tomato plants she had just mulched. Rubbing the ache in her lower back reminded her she wasn’t twenty anymore. Looking at her surroundings, she wouldn’t change life on Grace Star Ranch for anything in the world. Working the land in Montana had been a dream come true, and it put her in close proximity to Clint Goodman, the only man who made her heart skitter in her chest with just a smile. Not that he even recognized her. No one could. But she knew he had a good heart. What person would happen along, find a woman so badly broken that he’d stay with her, and even visit her in the hospital? She remembered little about those first days, but she remembered his voice, the deep dimples, and sable-brown eyes, and the way he talked about his home, Grace Star Ranch, had sounded like heaven on earth.

She touched her face, picturing her reflection in the mirror. The plastic surgeon had done an amazing job of putting her back together. The only scars that remained were on the inside. She shook off the darkness that threatened to obscure the July sunshine and stood up. This morning she woke in a cold sweat, her heart racing from the same nightmare she’d had for the last three years. She was running and her feet gave way, sliding down a rocky embankment. Helpless. Ending in a heap at the bottom of a ravine. But it hadn’t been a dream. It had been what brought her to this point, even though she remembered nothing after she had breakfast until they found her. Until Clint found her. Even now, her heart pounded in her chest as it tightened with the familiar panic. Taking several deep cleansing breaths, she reminded herself nothing would get done dwelling on the past. She knew better than anyone life could change in an instant.

The sound of someone calling her name interrupted her thoughts. Annie, the owner of the ranch and her boss, was headed in her direction.

“Morning,” she called out. “How’s things going out here?” She popped her hands on her hips and took in the massive garden. “It’s amazing what you’ve done in just a year.” She bent over and tore off a lettuce leaf, inspecting it, and then popping it in her mouth. “Nothing like from garden to mouth.”

Polly liked Annie. Her openness and willingness to listen and implement new ideas was just one reason working here was the best job she’d ever had. “The critters would devour the lettuce if we hadn’t installed that fencing.”

“I’m glad Clint and the boys could get it done before everything grew.”

Polly turned away so Annie couldn’t see her cheeks get pink at the mere mention of his name. “Chicken wire did the trick, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me, what’s the scoop with these tomato plants? They’re already a foot tall and deep green, nothing like what I saw down at The Trading Post a few days ago.”

“I grew these in the greenhouse. We’ve got a grape variety and ones that will ripen in our short growing season. Quinn’s already thinking about how many quarts he can process for the winter.”

Annie shuddered. “We just got over that season. I’m not ready to start thinkin’ about snow.” Her soft twang only came out occasionally, but Polly liked it.

With a soft laugh, she said, “It’s part of growing food. We need to think about the harvest and preserving it. Besides, we have a pleasant summer coming up since our spring has been warm. It’s a good indicator we’re in for a stretch of sunny days ahead.”

“Do you think you’ll have enough greenhouse space to grow even more for next year? With the resort having a soft opening in the fall, I’m hopeful we will book the cabins solid next summer.”

Annie had part of the ranch under construction with six family-style cabins and an expansion to the horse stable. Her plan was to add a dude ranch resort as an offshoot of the cattle business. Daphne, her friend from Boston, had moved out to run it.

“Not to worry, I’m using this year’s harvest as a gauge of what we’ll need to expand for next year. Feeding the ranch hands and preserving what we can is a part of the overall plan. You’ll need to decide how meals will run for the resort, are guests eating with the hands, or is there a separate dining hall? If Jed’s going to oversee everything, then he has ideas about the menu. I guess what I’m saying is, it’s an open-ended discussion until we know if Quinn is the head chef or if you are having two separate kitchens.”

Annie tapped her chin with her index finger and turned her head in the direction of the dining hall. “I’ve been putting off this conversation long enough. I’ll run down and talk to Quinn this morning. I was hoping he’d come to me and ask for the head chef job, but maybe he’s waiting for me to offer it.” With a shake of her head, she grinned. “He’s strong and silent like a few of our men around here.”

Polly instantly thought of Clint. He was the strong, silent type, steady as her heartbeat, well, until he occupied space with her, and then her heart thumped wildly. She really needed to stop crushing on that man.

“And you have a few raucous ones down there, too. Clint had Zak Dawson up helping with the fence and all he did was crack jokes.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Clint or Zak?”

Her cheeks grew warm. “Zak’s the funny man of that duo.” But Clint had the occasional one-liner that cracked her up, too. Not that she was about to tell Annie that.

“Zak’s a good man and even better with the horses. He probably tires of not having people to talk with, so he makes up for it.” Annie gave her a sharp look. “Clint’s got a good sense of humor. He just keeps it on the down low until he really gets to know someone.”

She dipped her head and looked at Annie. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hey, can you do me a favor before you head out?” Annie glanced back at the main house. “Mary’s a little tired today. Would you cut some lettuce and if there are radishes, harvest some for dinner tonight and drop them at the house? I have to run into town and I’d feel better knowing someone had laid eyes on her while I’m gone.”

“Is she alright?”

“If you ask her, yes, still running this place like my Pops were still alive. But she picked up a cold, and it’s settled in her chest, and we both know Mary, stubborn as a mule about resting. She’ll be down here when she gets ready to fix dinner, getting what she can and well…” Her voice trailed off.

Polly saw the tears well up and then get blinked away from Annie’s eyes. “Consider it done. Maybe we can have tea together and I can pick her brain about her success with the garden all these years.”

“I tried to tell her I’d”—she gave a sheepish grin and shrugged her shoulders—“well, Linc would cook tonight, but she insists on fixing supper.”

“My grandma was just like Mary, never wanting help. At least Mary’s relinquished most of the gardening to me. She even allowed me to work in her flower gardens.”

Annie placed a warm hand on Polly’s arm. “I really appreciate your patience with Mary. She’s the only family I have left.”

“We all love her, so stop worrying. I can pop in whenever for a quick glass of water.” She patted the small walkie-talkie on her hip. “And you can reach me anytime.”

Polly would do just about anything for Annie and her family. After all, if it wasn’t for the woman standing in front of her, Polly wouldn’t be living her dream or live in close proximity to the man who had saved her life. One of these days, she needed to fess up and tell him who she was and thank him.

“I got lucky when Jeremy introduced us at The Trading Post.”

Polly swallowed the lump in her throat; she knew exactly what Annie meant. It was a fresh start for both of them—Annie taking over the family’s ranch and her working at the ranch. They were both building a new life from the ground up.

“Hey, how often is a gardener given the chance to start an entire operation literally from just a patch of land and an idea?”

Annie shrugged. “Like every spring?”

“Nope, this land needed to be cultivated and coaxed back into life. We’ve added compost and fertilizer, turned in nutrients, and let the magic of nature work over the winter.” Much like her transformation as she worked the land, it restored her faith that the future was bright. She had left the withered version of herself on that hiking trail.

“You did the work.” Annie gave her a bright smile.

In more ways than just the plot of land in front of them. “Thanks, Annie. All I needed was the opportunity.”

Her smile grew. “Oh, look, there’s Clint and Linc.”

The two cowboys headed in their direction. Clint was taller and thinner than his boss, who was also Annie’s husband, but they both had dark hair and the muscles of a hard-working cowboy. That’s where the similarities ended. Linc’s smile was quick and easy, whereas Clint’s was slow and guarded. He was slowly getting comfortable around her, but it had puzzled Polly why.

“Ladies,” Linc said and pecked his wife’s lips. “I thought I’d find you out here, Annie.”

“Actually, I was talking with Polly about plans for next year, and then I’m on my way down to see Quinn.”

Clint gave Polly a half grin. “Gotta feel sorry for the cook. Once Annie says she’s gonna talk to someone, that means they’d best be prepared to make some decisions.”

Although her tongue felt like she’d trip over it if she spoke, she laughed and then said, “I think I’d been in that same position last year.”

He pushed his Stetson back on his head and gave her a rare, wide smile. “And look how that turned out. We’re now eating better than ever, thanks to your skills.”

She could feel the flush rise in her cheeks and she eked out, “That’s nice of you to say.”

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Clint’s deep drawl made her toes curl in her work boots.

Polly could feel Annie’s eyes watching them as they bantered. She chanced a quick look, and Annie’s eyes widened with laughter. But it left her questions unasked. Polly was sure that would be a topic of conversation when they talked later.

“Linc, why don’t we head down to the dining hall? I think Polly was going to ask Clint for some help with something.” Annie gave Polly a sly wink and slipped her arm through her husband’s.

“Clint, after you’re done up here, can you stop down at the horse barn and check on things there? I have some things to go over with Annie in the office.”

Polly noticed the glint in Linc’s eyes and if she were to hazard a guess, this was part of Annie and Linc’s not-so-subtle way of playing matchmaker.

“You got it, and then I’m gonna check on the new calves. Doc Howard will be making a quick trip out later too.”

“Good.” Linc took Annie’s hand and with a smile in Polly’s direction and a curt nod to Clint, he said, “Take all the time Polly needs to get whatever done.”

When they were out of earshot, Clint stuck his hands in his front pockets and rocked back in his boots. He was studying Polly carefully. “So, how can I help you?”

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub)

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BJFCQJ77

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hiding-in-montana-5

http://books.apple.com/us/book/id6443868765

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hiding-in-montana-lucinda-race/1142526802?ean=2940186597841

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1170479

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Lucinda_Race_Hiding_in_Montana?id=OmaVEAAAQBAJ

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/63848490-hiding-in-montana

https://www.bookbub.com/books/hiding-in-montana-clean-western-romance-suspense-cowboys-of-river-junction-book-2-by-lucinda-race

Award-winning and best-selling author Lucinda Race is a lifelong fan of fiction. As a young girl, she spent hours reading mystery and romance novels and getting lost in the fun and hope they represent. While her friends dreamed of becoming doctors and engineers, her dreams were to become a writer—a novelist.

As life twisted and turned, she found herself writing nonfiction but longed to turn to her true passion. After developing the storyline for the McKenna Family Romance series, it was time to start living her dream. Her fingers practically fly over computer keys she weaves stories about with mystery and happily ever afters.

Lucinda lives with her two little dogs, a miniature long hair dachshund and a shitzu mix rescue, in the rolling hills of western Massachusetts. When she's not at her day job, she’s immersed in her fictional worlds. And if she’s not writing mystery, suspense and romance novels, she’s reading everything she can get her hands on.

Social Media Links

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Regifting by Liz Flaherty

My mom always had a few pairs of new socks tucked back somewhere for unexpected guests at Christmas. I was embarrassed by that, as I thought we were the only family in the world who gave socks and underwear for Christmas. (We can add that to the plethora of things I've been wrong about.)

Many years later, I keep a bagful of bottles of foaming

hand soap and bars of handmade soap in different scents--enough to get me through a year of unexpected guests and add-on gifts because...well, doesn't everyone like soap? I wonder if my kids are embarrassed. I don't think I'll ask. I'll  just go on giving bottles and bars of soap. If the receivers don't care for them, they can give them to someone else. 

I'm not sure when regifting became a "thing." It's even in the dictionary. When I was younger, it was something you looked over your shoulder when you did, hoping against hope that you weren't giving something back to the person who gave it to you. You made sure the tags were off and that the gift was still in its original container. 

This year, because I was having so much fun making them, nearly everyone on my present list--and a few who weren't--got one or two potholders for Christmas. I gave them away with signed books, as add-ons instead of (or in addition to, sometimes) bottles of foaming soap. I was embarrassed again, because they're pretty obviously crafted by a person who's in no way a crafter. 

But people have been kind about receiving their soap and potholders. I hope they've come in handy, even if only as regifts for unexpected guests. 

What's important about regifting is that it is still giving. The person you're giving it to is important to you or you wouldn't bother, would you? If you still consider the gift yours after you've given it away and harbor resentment because it wasn't used the way you hoped, then you didn't really want it to be a gift anyway, did you?

Today, I'm your regift. (And if someone just said, What, again?...well, yeah, I don't blame you.) The person who was supposed to be on the Window today couldn't make it--it's the busiest time of year and she ran out of time, something we can all identify with--so I'm today's guest on the Window. 

Thanks for reading, for visiting through this Holiday Project of a post every day. And thanks to the guests who've come and shared pieces of their lives and memories and traditions with us. The Project isn't done yet, but we're winding down. As we go into the New Year, I wish you all so much happy. Have a great week. Be nice to somebody. 

Oh! I'm a guest today, so I get to do my little promo shot here at the end, too! No, don't go away--maybe you haven't read it.

A while back, I got the rights back to A Soft Place to Fall, one of my favorite stories. It's about Marriage Resurrected, one of my favorite plots; about quilting, one of my favorite things; and set in rural Kentucky, one of my favorite places. It's inspirational romance, although I write inspirational like my friend Pamela Thibodeaux, with a bit of an edge. If you haven't read it, I hope you try it now. I love its new cover, created by Nancy Fraser. It's available in both ebook and paperback. Although it can be gotten from bookstores, I know it's not there yet, so I'm giving you the Amazon and D2D links. 

Early McGrath doesn't want freedom from her thirty-year marriage to Nash, but when it's forced upon her, she does the only thing she knows to do - she goes home to the Ridge to reinvent herself.
Only what is someone who's spent her life taking care of other people supposed to do when no one needs her anymore? Even as the threads of her life unravel, she finds new ones - reconnecting with the church of her childhood, building the quilt shop that has been a long-time dream, and forging a new friendship with her former husband.
The definition of freedom changes when it's combined with faith, and through it all perhaps Early and Nash can find a Soft Place to Fall.

The First Christmas Memory by Caroline Clemmons

What’s the first Christmas you remember? Mine is when I was three. We lived in Southern California, where—for some reason—the Christmas Eve family gathering was held at our house instead of at the home of my older half-sister, Elsie Reed. As soon as it was dark, my brother-in-law, Buster Reed (one of my all-time favorite relatives), said he had to go to the airport to pick up Santa, who had agreed to come early as a favor to Buster. I was so impressed that Buster knew Santa so well.

Buster returned with Santa, who came in the door laden with gifts and pushing a baby buggy for me. In the buggy was a life-size baby doll. Can you imagine how excited I was? Of course Santa knew my name and those of the other children in the room. We have an odd range of a blended family, so my niece Linda is only three years younger than me, and was six months at the time. I remember her sitting on the floor and staring at Santa with wide eyes. I’m certain mine were just as wide.

After Santa had handed out gifts to all the children present, he told Buster he’d have to get on his way or he’d be late getting back to the North Pole, where his elves were loading his sleigh. Years later, when other kids told me there was no Santa, I argued that there was because I’d seen him and my brother-in-law knew him personally.

Years later, I learned the real details. My sewing whiz half-sister, Clarice Camille (Linda’s mom), had created a realistic costume that was used many years. That year, Buster’s older brother, Roy, played Santa. After Roy retired from the job, my half-brother, Herschel Johnson, took the job. This tradition continued many years. I’m happy to say, my eldest daughter got to accept a doll from Santa when she was a year old.

I love holiday traditions. Our family numbers have dwindled now, but we still hold on to some traditions.

What are some beloved traditions in your family?

Thank you for having me here at Window Over The Sink.

Hello, I’m Caroline Clemmons. My Hero and I live in North Central Texas cowboy country where we ride herd on two rescued indoor cats: elderly and extremely clever Sebastian and lovely and shy Jasmine. Our rescued dog is an energetic young labradoodle named Baxter, that would play fetch all day if he could find a sucker someone to toss one of his toys. I write primarily romance but also an occasional cozy mystery. Most of my over 80 titles are from sweet to sensual historical westerns, but I also write contemporary and time travels. My cozy mysteries are contemporary. Most of my romances have mystery and/or adventure in them. I’m fortunate enough to write full-time in a tiny office my family refers to as my cave. Hero and I have two grown daughters who are, of course, perfect. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time with my family, reading my friends’ and others’ books, dining out, browsing antique malls, shopping online, dabbling with oil paints, researching genealogy, and taking the occasional nap.

You can find me at these links:

Website https://www.carolineclemmons.com

Newsletter https://carolineclemmons.us5.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=0a24664c906875718d975ad7b&id=7c2e488a51 Subscribe for a free historical novella about a humorous, disastrous wedding, HAPPY IS THE BRIDE.

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/CarolineClemmonsRomances

~*~

About Jesse and the Mail Order Bride 

Sheriff Jesse Cameron is dedicated to uphold the law of his adopted country. After leaving Scotland, he came to Texas, and learned he liked the place and the people—at least, most of them. He keeps Harrigan County free of troublemakers with his “strict but fair” policy. Now that he has a steady job and has bought a house, he figures it’s time to find a wife and start a family. He and his best friend write to the same matchmaker, hoping their brides will be sisters or friends. Jesse hopes his wife will provide a peaceful home and welcome him each evening with a good meal and a warm smile.

Growing up in an orphanage left Rosalin Arnold too naïve to avoid being trapped in the clutches of an evil man who has her picking pockets. Those who’ve tried to escape him always fail, and are severely punished—or killed. Rosalin has been plotting to get away, and seizes her chance to escape. She takes her best friend with her, and also a boy of eight. All she and her friends want is a home where they can live honestly without constant fear. She prays she has successfully evaded the man who has tentacles everywhere.

What will happen when her lawman husband learns the truth about her criminal past? Have she and her friends escaped successfully?

You can learn the answers by reading the JESSE AND THE MAIL ORDER BRIDE at Amazon in e-book, print, and Free at Kindle Unlimited.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BD64JC1D?ref_=pe_3052080_276849420

A Christmas Miracle by Pamela S. Thibodeaux

Photo from Crafts by Amanda

The ghost of Christmases past haunted our house again in 1993. To say we were poor, would be an untruth, but to say money was tight is an understatement. As in years before, funds seemed to vanish, leaving very little, if anything, for gifts. This year was one of the worst.

My husband, an outside salesman, hadn’t been paid since November, when his boss left town on an extended vacation from Thanksgiving through New Year, without paying his employees, and we were trying to make it on my meager salary as a State Civil Service Employee at the local Charity Hospital.

Two days before Christmas Eve, I was in the Emergency Clinic picking up charts when the topic of being ready for Christmas was opened for discussion. When asked if I was ready, I replied that I was waiting for my check (which would be available on 12/23 or 24) and that we didn’t even have a tree yet.

Knowing that I had three children at home, everyone was shocked!

As things were brought out in the open about my husband’s check, or rather, lack of one, I was encouraged to scrounge the barrels of toys that had been collected for needy children who came to the hospital and see if there was anything I could use for mine. Not knowing that this was allowed, I hesitated. After all, we’d been through this before and the kids were old enough to understand our finances. Continued support as well as the knowledge that other hospital employees often did this as Christmas got closer and the barrels empty save for the less desirable gifts that children didn’t seem to want anyway, encouraged me to check it out. I found things like Uno cards, regular playing cards, puzzles and other small gift items that could be found at any Dollar store. Still, it was better than nothing and I was able to pick out a couple of things for each of my children.

But the greatest gift came from an unexpected source.

Psalm 34:15 says that “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and His ears hear their cry.” As a newly recommitted Christian, I knew the Lord would provide something, though I never imagined how He would do it.

Upon leaving the clinic area, I returned to my desk in Admitting to finish the necessary paperwork before returning the charts to Medical Records. I hadn’t been at my desk for more than a few minutes when I was called by a nurse to meet her in the nurses’ lounge.

Since this particular nurse was one of my favorite people to work with, I didn’t hesitate, not knowing that the incident would be one that would live in my heart forever.

Upon entering the lounge, I found her nearly in tears. “I hope I don’t embarrass or humiliate you,” she began. “But I’d like to give you something.” With that, she handed me a check. “When I was newly single, I needed tires for my car and a new friend, a stranger really, gave me fifty dollars to buy them,” she said, as I, too humbled and, yes, embarrassed to say anything, just looked at her; tears welling in my eyes.

“He told me not to pay him back,” she continued, “but to return the favor by doing something in kind for someone in need whenever I could.”

By this time, the tears were flowing freely between us. “I was going to give you the fifty, but I found a little extra. I don’t want you to pay me back either, but do the same for someone whenever you can,” she concluded

Without even looking at the check, I put it in my pocket. We embraced and returned to our perspective work stations. The next morning over coffee with my husband, I told him the story and we opened the check to find it in the amount of one-hundred-dollars.

One-hundred-dollars doesn’t buy a lot, even in 1993, but it was more than enough to share the miracle of Christmas with our children, and we were able to send a small gift to our daughter who lived out of state.

The very first thing I did was go out and buy a tree; a pitiful little display item that had been knocked over and kicked around but was the only one available anywhere. The kids and I strung popcorn, and they made ornaments called The Eye of Jesus (or God’s Eye) that they’d learned to create in Catechism.

It was one of the most memorable Christmases I’ve ever had.

The gift this dear lady gave was more than money, it was affirmation…proof that my God shall supply all of my needs according to his riches in glory through Christ Jesus (Phil. 4:19).

Through all the years of change, I don’t have an Eye of Jesus ornament left, but the memory always reminds of the blessing and miracle of Christmas, of how God used this angel of mercy to impact the lives of a newly recommitted Christian and her family, and that the eye of the Lord is upon the righteous and His ears do hear their cry.

Learn to make God’s Eye (or Eye of Jesus) ornaments HERE.

~*~

Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.” Sign up to receive Pam’s newsletter and get a FREE short story! http://bit.ly/psthibnewsletter Website: http://pamelathibodeaux.com

Controversy and Inconsistencies are thieves of holiday joy for Keri...is there any hope for a happy holiday season?

For as long as she can remember, Keri Jackson has despised the hype and commercialism around Christmas—especially with the controversy over the time of Jesus’s birth. Will she get her wish and be free of the angst to truly enjoy Christmas this year?

Jeremy Hinton thinks Keri is a highly intelligent, deeply emotional, and intensely complex woman and he’s as fascinated by her aversion to Christmas as he is of the woman herself. A devout Christian at heart, he’s studied all of the world’s religions and homeopathic healing modalities. But when a rare bacterial infection threatens her life, will all of his faith and training be for naught?

Fans of near death experiences will enjoy this woman’s mystical journey into spiritual Truth.


Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Keris-Christmas-Wish-Inspirational-Paranormal-ebook/dp/B01MTLBWSR


Other online retailers: https://books2read.com/KerisChristmasWish

Fullness by Liz Flaherty

I've so loved having guests every day through this season, and I'm grateful you've made them welcome. Isn't it fun reading their stories and connecting them to your own? I've been been both surprised and gratified by the reception the Window Holidays Project received. 

I've had this particular post started for days now. There is, if I'm honest about it, a bittersweetness to our Christmases anymore. Although I celebrate the birth of Jesus, and that hasn't changed--although my gratitude has grown, which is a good thing--I miss the way Christmas Days were when our kids were little. I miss the family members who aren't with us anymore. 

I miss fullness.

It's been a rough several years for most of us, hasn't it? We've dealt with Covid, with political unrest, with finding and learning to live with new normals. This is my first Christmas without the sister who was part of every day of my life until the one in April when she left us. Her daughters and grandchildren are finding their way without her. So are my brother and I and the astonishing number of people whose lives she touched. 

And there it is. Not the fact that she's gone, but the lives she touched while she was here. Loss is excruciating--a family at church and another family whose lives have touched ours are suffering that during these already emotion-packed days of the Christmas season. But before we lose, we have. Time may not heal wounds, because the scars are way too deep for that, but it gentles them. It gives us joy in memories. Laughter. Oh, yes, laughter. 

And there the fullness is. This post has been sort of...out there, hasn't it? But there's no more emotional time than this one. All of those who are dealing with loss, loneliness, or dark times, I wish you comfort and that joy and laughter will find you amid the grief. I wish you fullness. 

I'll be back a week from Saturday. Until then, enjoy the guests who will be at the Window every day through New Year's Eve. Thank you on their behalf for your support of them and of the Window Over the Sink. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Be blessed. And be nice to somebody. 

Fairy Tale Favorites by Darlene DeLuca

For our December meeting, my book club always has a special holiday edition. We call it the Salmon Feast, and we celebrate all the winter holidays, our friendship, and our bond in books. We add a fun gift exchange, complete with the opportunity to “steal” gifts. Sometimes I enjoy that aspect of the gift giving. Other years, not so much! And we often do something a little different than our usual someone-pick-a-book.

This year, we’ve decided to discuss fairy tales. Our assignment is to re-read our favorite fairy tale from childhood and compare how we see it/feel about it now that we’re, um, well into adulthood. :-)

At first, I kind of rolled my eyes, not excited about the idea of spending my time reading a fairy tale at this extra-busy time of year. I still have some gifts to wrap, cookies to frost and, of course, several more trips to the grocery store! I don’t mind re-reading books occasionally. In fact, I have several books I enjoy re-reading, but those are my all-time faves. I’ve also been known to re-read some childhood books, Trixie Belden and Laura Ingalls Wilder books included. I still have my complete set of Laura Ingalls Wilder books. That collection goes down as my best childhood Christmas present ever!

Being the good sport, I started thinking about which fairy tale is my favorite. Honestly, I don’t remember reading any when I was a kid. But I know all the stories, so obviously I read them or watched the movie/TV versions.

I do remember being outraged at the meanness of the queen in "Snow White," the threatening deceitfulness of the wolf in "Little Red Riding Hood," and the jealousy of the stepmother and stepsisters in "Cinderella." I think of all of them, "Cinderella" is my favorite. I love that she got her magical night out. Not so much concerned about getting the prince, but happy that in the end good triumphed, and the evil stepmother and stepsisters got their comeuppance!

Turns out today my reaction is the same. Whether I’m reading fairy tales or contemporary novels, I like good to triumph over evil. I want the nice guys to finish first. I want good deeds to be rewarded. And I like happy, hopeful endings. Those, by the way, are also what I write. My books are by no means fairy tales. The characters face real-life dilemmas. They deal with loss and heartache and disappointment. There are no princes or royal kingdoms or glass slippers. But in each one, there’s growth, second chances, friendship, and love.

One of the things I realized while contemplating their significance is that most of the fairy tales I like are love stories: Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel. These stories show that love conquers jealousy, greed, and hate. Love redeems. Love changes lives. And that seems like a great conversation for the holiday season. I’m looking forward to my book club discussion—and contributing my two cents’ worth—after all! Happy holidays to each of you!

I’d love to know: what’s your favorite fairy tale or childhood Christmas gift?

Speaking of love stories, my newest novel, Christmas at Tall Pines, is a sweet holiday romance set in a cozy lodge tucked into the snowy mountains of Utah. It’s a quest for holiday magic.

-- Melanie Beck is searching for an idyllic Christmas like the ones her small family used to have. Traveling solo and still grieving the loss of her parents, she’s counting on cozy Tall Pines Lodge tucked into the mountains of Utah to provide the elusive holiday feels with merry music, stunning decorations and traditional Christmas feast in a beautiful frosty setting.

But a blizzard turns the winter wonderland into a hazard, and a chance encounter with a now-famous high school crush has her reeling with emotions she’s never quite gotten over.

Tyler Shaw, a Hollywood heartthrob and silver screen star, is so over a grueling film schedule and persistent paparazzi. In disguise and using a fake name, he comes to Tall Pines to escape the spotlight and get some much-needed rest. He’s hoping the adrenaline rush of downhill skiing at the nearby slopes will give him the reboot he’s looking for.

Instead, he’s stuck at the lodge and is shocked to run into an old high school friend that he left behind more than a decade ago. He’s even more surprised to discover how much he’s missed her.

As their past and present collide, can an old flame ignite some Christmas magic?—

Buy links:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BK1TP381/

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1174660

https://books.apple.com/us/book/christmas-at-tall-pines/id6443949366

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/christmas-at-tall-pines

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/christmas-at-tall-pines-darlene-deluca/1142549099?ean=2940165952432

Darlene Deluca writes contemporary romance and women’s fiction that explores relationships – what brings people together or keeps them apart.

Her intent is to bring to life interesting characters that readers can relate to in real-life situations that combine a little fun, plenty of drama (with perhaps a tear or two), and big helpings of friendship, love and self-discovery, and will leave readers either cheering or sighing with a satisfied smile as they turn the final page.

The Kansas City author enjoys getting lost in a good story with a glass of tea, a bit of dark chocolate and a warm, sunny beach.

To learn more about Darlene and her books, visit her website at https://darlenedeluca.com/ or find her on social media at:

https://www.instagram.com/darlenedelucaauthor/?hl=en

https://www.facebook.com/Darlene-Deluca-282385088481413/?ref=bookmarks

The Most Wonderful time of...Mistakes, by MJ Schiller

Christmas time. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, right? And the most hectic. And hectic can sometimes lead to mistakes, at least in my book. We’re all running around so distracted, marking off things on our lists—shopping, cooking, cleaning, parties… We’re taken out of the moment, and those kinds of distractions can cause missteps. We see more frequent fender benders. Experience more times we forget appointments. Leave credit cards on counters. Leave purses, gloves, sunglasses behind. Any of this hitting home for you? As frustrating as this can be, I thought I’d recount for you all a few memorable mistakes from my Christmases past and then we can determine whether they are the kinds of errors that bring down the curtains on a Christmas pageant, or simply make for some backstage chaos.

One year, when our triplets were young—two or three—we had Christmas at my mom’s. We hid the presents in her basement, which seemed like a good idea, until all four of my kids had trundled off to bed and I could only find three of the four Beanie Babies for their stockings. (You remember those cute little Beanie guys, don’t you?) So what do you do? You hope a letter from good ol’ St. Nick will be enough of a novelty to forestall the impending tears. Santa told Mitch that he was sorry, but he thought maybe he’d dropped his Beanie out of the sleigh. Weeks later, my mom found it and mailed it to us. It came on a rainy day, and when I read the note from “Santa” it said that his panther had fallen out over the ocean and had gotten a tad wet. Boy, if that didn’t solidify the authenticity of the jolly old fellow.

Then there was the year that we asked my niece, Maddie, to pen the letter from Santa, so the kids wouldn’t recognize our handwriting. It was the Christmas we had gotten them a basketball hoop for the driveway and the note told them to look outside. Worked well until we realized that my niece had written it on the soft pine table, with nothing under it, so that letter could be read for years to come, pressed into the wood.

And when I was a child, one year my little sister and I discovered our Barbie townhouse in a wardrobe box in the basement. Whoops! That really called the whole North Pole crew into question when the townhouse came from “Ho-Ho-Ho.” And one year I snuck all of my presents one by one into the bathroom, carefully unwrapped them, then rewrapped them and returned them to the tree. It made for a pretty anticlimactic Christmas morning. “Oh, yeah. This is the purple sweater.” “This is the skirt.” *yawn* (I don’t recommend doing that, by the way.)

But despite all the Christmases that didn’t go quite as planned, the blunders still made for some nice stories for us to pull out each year—like ornaments for the tree—and they bring laughter and warmth. This holiday will probably not be pulled off seamlessly. Like a wedding, or any big production, there’s bound to be something off-kilter somewhere along the line. But that’s okay. It’s the being together that’s important. And any foul ups will be retold in years to come with love and humor.

Now, you’d think that a woman with over 30 books available to purchase would have at least a handful of Christmas stories, wouldn’t you? Especially someone like me, who loves Christmas. But I don’t. I have just the one romantic suspense, UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR. So as things begin to slow down here, be sure and treat yourself to some quiet moments. Just you, a book, some hot chocolate, and a little Christmas…murder?

Dylan Fisher is an EMT and part-time Santa Claus at a mall in Denver, Colorado.

He has logged plenty of time with children sitting on his lap asking for anything from the latest electronic gadget to a week’s worth of homework passes, but he never heard anyone ask for what little Delaney Kelly asked for on one snowy night in December. A dad! When Dylan’s eyes search the crowd for Delaney’s mother and land on Keira Kelly, the paramedic almost finds himself in need of a little CPR. She is stunning.

Keira Kelly is still grieving over the loss of her husband…

… but a reckless driver has her thinking about nothing but survival as she’s headed home from the mall. When Keira wakes in the hospital to find a hunky EMT at her bedside, she begins having a few thoughts that would put her on Santa’s Naughty List for sure.

Neither is ready for what is coming UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR.

When she finds out the EMT is only hanging around because the police believe someone is out to get her, she’s not sure what to think about his kindness. Is he helping her because he wants to, or because he feels he needs to? And what about the man who rammed her car, could he have had something to do with her husband’s death?

Thanks for reading, and may you and your family have a wonderful, quirky Christmas and many more to come!

Bestselling author M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-six-year-old and three twenty-four- year-olds. That's right, triplets! She likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be
a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.

(To purchase UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR, click here: https://books2read.com/Upon-A-Midnight-Clear Only 99 cents!)

To find other M.J. Schiller books, click here: https://www.amazon.com/stores/M.J.-Schiller/author/B009JOQFQQ

And be sure to sign up for her newsletter to hear of new releases: https://maryschiller.wixsite.com/contact-page

Christmas Journeys by Carol James

Christmas was always a special time growing up. Yet, I can remember only one spent with aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. My father was a career military officer, so we lived away from family.

But our home was never empty. It was filled with friends and airmen who also had no family nearby. Dad made certain no one under his command had to spend Christmas alone, and Mom made the holidays fun and festive for whoever filled our house.

Early in our marriage, when my husband was transferred from Texas to Georgia, my mother had one request. To spend Christmases together. So, every year, we filled the car with daughters and presents and made the eighteen-hour drive home for the holidays.

One December, as we began our journey, the worst arctic cold snap on record at that time hit north Texas. We’d gotten a late start on the trip, so we planned to stay one night in a hotel along the way. But the farther we travelled, the more we realized that was impossible.

Hotels and restaurants had no power or water. Gas stations had fuel but no electricity to run the pumps. With no place to stop and realizing if we cut the car off, we might not be able to restart it, our only choice was to keep going.

Even though the heater was blowing full-force, it couldn’t overcome the cold. Ice frosted the inside of our car windows, so I tucked coats, blankets, stuffed animals, anything I could find around our preschool daughters to keep them warm.

And as my husband drove on, I prayed. Prayed we’d have enough fuel. Prayed the little car would keep running. Prayed our girls would stay warm. Prayed neither would need to stop for a potty break. Prayed for peace for my parents.

And, as I prayed, I remembered the journey of the first Christmas. Knowing the King of kings was about to be born, was Joseph worried when none of the inns had rooms and they had to spend the night in a stable, away from comfort and family? Or did he trust?

In the midst of the frigid December cold, peace blanketed me. The One Who had directed their journey was also directing ours.

I don’t remember the gifts exchanged that Christmas, the food we ate, the guests who shared our house. But I’ll always remember the joy glimmering in my parents’ eyes as they answered our knock. And God’s protection for our journey.

 

Raised as an Air Force brat, the longest Carol James ever lived in one place was a year and a half. Maybe that’s why when she and her husband bought their first home over forty years ago, they stayed put.

The author of five full-length novels and five Christmas novellas, Carol loves creating stories of Redemptive Romance—intriguing, transformative tales with happy endings.

Visit her website to sign up for her newsletter and receive a free short story: https://www.carol-james.com


Choosing Christmas Heartbroken over the unfair loss of a position in the

school where she teaches, Angela Taylor is determined to find an AP position.

Adam Thornton has struggled for years to overcome the physical and emotional effects of a devastating accident that occurred when he was a teenager. A successful real estate attorney and part-time handyman, Adam uses his gifts and talents to serve others.

When Angela is hired as an AP at the school where Adam' s mother is the principal, Angela and Adam find they share a past... an unexpected connection. And they must choose whether to surrender to the pain of that past or find hope for the future in the spirit of Christmas.

Choosing Christmas purchase link Amazon: https://amzn.to/3D

When Wishes Come True by Peggy Jaeger

So here’s a fact: I’m a girl.

Shocker, right?

LOL.

If you are a toy connoisseur you recognize this ornament

as Rock'Em Sock'Em Robots, a very popular toy in the 1960s. When I was five years old I wanted this toy. Bad! I put it on my list to Santa three years running from 1965-68. When the third Christmas morning without finding it under the tree occurred, my mother said, with a cigarette in one hand, a cup of black coffee in the other, and her hair in pink rollers, "That toy is for boys. Santa doesn't bring boy toys to girls or vice versa."

That was a hard lesson for an eight-year-old to learn. But it was the 1960s and times were different.

Very different.

Fast forward 33 years.

I am sitting around the dinner table at my in-laws' house three days before Christmas when my father-in-law asks everyone around the table to tell about their favorite or least favorite present they received as a child. Since there were six Jaeger kids and six spouses, this was going to be a long discussion. When my turn came I related the Rock’em Sock’em story and how devastated I was never to get it from Santa.

Everyone laughed and agreed, the 1960s were different times.

Now, Christmas morning comes along and we are all opening presents in my in-laws' living room, when I find a big box with my name on it under the tree. There's a note on it that says, "To Peg, from Santa. Sorry this is so late." I open the box and yup, there it is, the toy of my dreams, Rock'Em Sock'Em robots.

My very own Santa, aka Hubby, sent my brother-in-law to ToysRUs after he heard that story to get me the toy.

Best Christmas evah! 

Peggy Jaeger writes contemporary romances and rom coms about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.

Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all aspects of life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness, and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"

Connect with Peggy here:

https://linktr.ee/peggyjaeger

See a list of all Peggy’s Books, here:

https://linktr.ee/peggyjaegerbooks

Memories, Lights, and Moments by Kristina Knight

I’ve got holiday music (right now it’s Burl Ives singing “Silver and Gold”) playing the background, Sparkling Cinnamon melting in my Yankee Candle Scenterpiece (it’s red with white snowflakes on it), and a cup of cocoa at my elbow. Our tree is up and decorated, the last of the gifts have been wrapped…

We are ready for the holiday season.

As it always does, getting ready for the holidays got me thinking about a few of my favorite things – there is the Christmas ball that my grandmother made for me, the year I was born. The red velvet ribbon on the top is frayed, and the little girl and Christmas tree are so faded you can barely see them, but it’s still one of my favorite ornaments. There is our Elf on the Shelf – a holiday trinket I swore would never enter our house but when you have a seven-year-old…things happen. Then the seven-year-old turns fourteen and the Elf doesn’t have to roam the house but it still has to *be* there…So we have an Elf, and I’ve learned to love that sketchy thing. The 12 Days of Christmas wall hanging is up, a new wall hanging featuring stockings is up, and the actual stockings are hanging on the mantel.

But, my top-of-the-list favorite thing hasn’t happened yet: we haven’t made that first drive around our city to see the lights. I love driving the lights, and I love even more wandering through them with a warm cup of cocoa and a bag of freshly roasted chestnuts to munch on. As adults, it’s easy to get lost in the hubbub of the holiday season – the office parties, all the baking, the wrapping, the last minute shopping. Taking a moment to stroll through a display of holiday lights is one of my favorite ways to slow the season down. To really take in all of the beauty in the season, before for those minutes, it’s almost like going back in time. You can smell the snow, you can feel the magic in the air, and you’re transported back to somewhat simpler times that are filled with all the joy and excitement and none of the stress.

In my book Christmas in a Small Town there is a holiday dance, and weekends filled with live music because Slippery Rock is a touristy type town and the mayor is trying to extend tourism season into the winter months. Levi and Camden aren’t looking for romance during the holiday season, but romance is looking for them, and they’re finding it harder and harder to resist the magic of the season. I loved writing the scene at the dance because it’s so much fun to see characters cave – for the first time, and for just a moment – in to the attraction they feel for each other.

What are your favorite holiday moments?

Running out on her wedding was the best decision ever!

A cheating fiancé sends Camden Harris fleeing to her grandparents’ home in Missouri. When her ex follows, determined to win her back, Camden makes a deal with neighbor Levi Walters: they’ll pretend to be in love and she’ll support his plan to buy her grandparents’ land.

 The boy from her childhood has grown up into an impressive man. His charm, good looks and sweet gestures make it difficult for Camden to remember this is fake. And Levi’s kisses only confuse her more…

Find out about Kristi's books at http://kristinaknightbooks.com/books/christmas-in-a-small-town/

Kristina Knight began her writing career as a radio and television journalist, working for NBC affiliates throughout the midwest as a reporter, anchor, and producer. After covering everything from a serial killer’s capture to the National Finals Rodeo, she decided to leave the TV biz in favor of writing stories she was passionate about.

Today, Kristina is a freelance writer as well as published romance author. She writes about family/parenting, covers entertainment news, and writes content for a small business website in her non-fiction hours. During her fiction time, she writes romances filled with great characters, fun communities, and always with a happily ever after.

In her personal life, Kristina is a wife, mom, and author, living her happily ever after one deadline at a time. A life-long Midwesterner, Kristina has lived in Missouri, Nebraska, and Ohio, where she job-hopped her way through college before eventually landing in the world of journalism. After a ten-year career reporting and producing news for several NBC affiliates, she traded in her journalism cap for yoga pants. She now writes stories that always end in happily ever after.

Kristina writes sassy contemporary romance novels; her books have appeared on Kindle Best Seller Lists. She loves hearing from readers, so feel free to email her!

Blue Christmas is More Than An Elvis Presley Song by Anna Taylor Sweringin

Happy Holidays is a beautiful sentiment if the holidays aren’t a time of grief and loss for you. The themes of the Advent wreath – hope, peace, joy and love – can feel very far off if you’re experiencing a dark night of the soul while everyone around you is singing “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” Platitudes and cliches only deepen the sense of isolation one feels when everyone else is cheerful and you’re not.

That’s why when I became responsible for pastoral care at First Presbyterian Church in Jamaica, Queens, I developed a Blue Christmas service. Usually held on December 21 (the longest night of the year) Blue Christmas services create safe space for those who for whom the holidays is, and may always be, sad. These services remind us it really is alright to cry because crying makes us feel better. These services say God is present with you, blessing your tears, holding your hurt in God’s hands.

A typical service follows the regular order of worship one might find on a Sunday morning, but with some significant differences.

I choose songs that remind attendees they are not forgotten. Standards like “Be Not Dismayed Whate’er Betide, God Will Take Care of You” and “I’m So Glad Trouble Don’t Last Always” are sung loudly and proudly but without condescension. Responsive prayers are said which acknowledge with dignity the sorrow and pain of loss. Litanies are recited whose words dispel any sense of blame, shame or guilt. Old Testament scriptures emphasize that the journey from darkness to light is a normal part of life.

Readings from the Psalms emphasize lament, like Psalm 22, “My God, My God why hast thou forsaken me?” to help attendees realize they’re not the first in this situation. Jesus spoke these words from the cross. They also lift up the truth that God’s power is at their disposal as expressed in the 23rd and 121st Psalms. New Testament scriptures like Romans 8:26 which assures us the Spirit helps us in our weakness. Meditations written by those whose meditations are based on her own experience with suffering make the message shared one that is authentic and relatable.

In our service attendees are invited to come forward and light candles for each loss that is on their heart. This small act of agency demonstrates that even when we feel powerless, we do have power. Then as a reverse offering, glass stones with scripture on them lay in the offering plate for them to take as a reminder that God’s word is always within reach.

Here are links to two sample services. You’ll see one size does not fit all, but each service attempts to serve the emotional needs of those present:

https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/resources/blue-christmas-a-service-of-reflection-for-the-longest-night,

https://youngclergywomen.org/blue-christmas-service-when-christmas-hurts/

If you’ve never attended a Blue Christmas service, consider doing so. You will come away with insights and resources that could make you a source of light and genuine comfort for someone going through a rough time.

Anna Taylor Sweringen lives in New Mexico with her husband and their rescue cat Scully. She writes inspirational romance as Anna Taylor, gothic/ghost stories as Anna M. Taylor and steamy historicals as Michal Scott. She blogs monthly on Delilah Devlin’s blog where she shares bits of history about African-American women. You can follow Anna as Michal Scott on Twitter @mscottauthor1 and @revannable or as Anna M. Taylor on FB at https://www.facebook.com/annamtaylorAuthor.