Christmas at Saltwater Cove: a Westcott Bay novella Read online

  Table of Contents

  Introduction to Christmas at Saltwater Cove

  San Juan Islands Map

  San Juan Island Detail Map

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Also by Amelia

  Introduction to the first book in the Westcott Bay series, Saltwater Cove

  Author's Note

  Would you like to read my free novella?

  About the Author

  Christmas at Saltwater Cove

  Pittsburgh

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  Christmas at Saltwater Cove

  ANJ Press, First edition. October 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Amelia Addler.

  Written by Amelia Addler.

  Cover design by Charmaine Ross at CharmaineRoss.com

  Maps by Nate Taylor at IllustratorNate.com

  Introduction to Christmas at Saltwater Cove

  The ghosts of relationships past are threatening her happily ever after…

  Pediatric surgeon Sandy Randall has given up on love. At 53, with a divorce and a string of bad dates behind her, she just doesn’t see the point of it. Besides, her career keeps her way too busy to worry about romance. But when a trip to San Juan Island brings her face-to-face with her high school sweetheart, she can’t help but wonder how the icy walls she’s built around her heart can possibly survive him again.

  Jack Pappas is thrilled when a holiday catering gig puts him back in contact with Sandy. In his mind, she was the one that got away – and she’s more beautiful and delightful than ever. All he’ll have to do now is convince her to give him (and love) a second chance…

  Somewhere between the caroling and mistletoe (and the unwanted medical mystery that hits San Juan Island), can Jack and Sandy figure out how to take one last shot at love? It might take a Christmas miracle…

  This story works as a stand alone that fits into the Westcott Bay series right after book one (Saltwater Cove), however whether you’ve read all of the Westcott Bay books or none at all, this story is the perfect holiday pick-me-up!

  for Argos

  Chapter 1

  “We’re next for takeoff. Get ready to have some fun!”

  Sandy smiled, but couldn’t manage to do much else. The small Cessna plane sat at the end of the runway, the long strip of cement beckoning them to move forward. Meanwhile, her body was completely stiff – something she hadn’t expected. Perhaps it was too bold an idea for her to sit in the front with the pilot.

  He’d offered, though, and this wasn’t her first rodeo. She’d seen this view of the cockpit before – the dials and knobs of the control panel, the oversized headsets, and the propeller’s dizzying spin breaking up her view. She’d heard the impossibly loud engine roaring to life before, and remembered how the vibrations rattled through her entire body.

  But during her many previous flights, her brother Mike was the pilot. Not a stranger. She didn’t even know this guy. What was his name? Bill?

  Brett?

  No, definitely Bill.

  He was too young to be a pilot – he looked like he’d just graduated college.

  “You know…” she said into her headset, “if the weather doesn’t look good, we can just go back and I’ll rent a car…”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s a perfect day. And we’ll be in the air in no time.”

  Bill started talking through a checklist and Sandy had no choice but to leave him alone.

  She vaguely remembered that Mike had used a checklist like that when he flew. Yet she hadn’t been scared like this – and Sandy wasn’t used to feeling scared. She wasn’t a jittery person by any means – yet here she was, wondering if the flimsy latch on her door would pop open and send her tumbling out.

  The plane started rumbling down the runway. Sandy couldn’t believe what she’d gotten herself into. Why hadn’t she just rented a car like she initially planned?

  Oh right – because her sister Margie insisted that she couldn’t be late and miss Santa’s arrival. She said it was the “Perfect kick-off to a month of Christmas fun!”

  What did Sandy care about Santa? She had no interest in the man. What use could a fifty-three year old woman with no children have for a sweaty man in a red suit?

  None!

  She should’ve rented a car at the airport, driven to the ferry terminal, and taken the ferry to San Juan Island like a normal person.

  “Oh dear…” she whispered as the plane lifted off of the runway.

  It wasn’t the smooth, gradual ascent of a commercial airliner. No – one moment it was bumping along the runway like an old, oddly shaped car, and the next moment it popped up into the air, like it was a toy and not a real plane.

  But that was it – they were flying! She let out a sigh; everything seemed fine. She’d allowed herself to get too worked up.

  The world shrank beneath them and Sandy decided that if she was going to die in this plane, she might as well enjoy the view. She delicately leaned to her right to look out of the window. Her hope was to see Seattle as they flew by, but it seemed they were already plunging deep into the clouds.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” asked Bill.

  Sandy laughed. “That’s one way to think of it. We got an amazing view for a minute.”

  “Just wait until we get to the islands!” he said. “It should clear up a bit and you’ll get the view of a lifetime.”

  Sandy forced herself to release her grip on the armrest. “Great.”

  “Is this your first time flying in a small aircraft?”

  “No. I used to fly with my brother all the time.”

  Bill looked over to her. “Oh – but not any more?”

  “No, he had to move for his job.” Sandy forced herself not to smile. That was one way to put it. Mike went back undercover with the FBI. Sometimes she had the urge to tell people that, just to see their reaction. But she knew she couldn’t.

  “I see. And you’re going to San Juan for business, or pleasure?”

  “I’m visiting my sister. My brother actually sold her his house on San Juan Island.”

  “No way! Lucky lady.”

  Sandy nodded. Surely Margie thought of it that way – she was a stunningly positive person. But it hadn’t been so lucky when Margie’s husband left her out of the blue. And after twenty-two years of raising their children and keeping their home in order, she had nothing to show for it.

  But everything changed after Mike gave her that house.

  “Yeah, it’s wonderful – right on the water. She turned an old barn into a wedding venue. Or an events space, I guess. That’s all the rage now.”

  “Oh yeah! My daughter got married in a barn last summer. No air conditioning, but it was nice.”

  Daughter? He looked so young – maybe it was the sunglasses? Or maybe Sandy was losing her touch in
guessing ages. Or maybe…

  Sandy stole a glance at him again. He had some gray hair and even a few wrinkles. Somehow she’d missed that when she first met him – probably because her mind was preoccupied.

  The flight was short at only thirty-five minutes. She couldn’t complain about that. If she’d driven up and taken the ferry over, it would’ve taken her at least three hours – maybe five hours with traffic. She was already quite bored of traveling after her flight from Boston.

  And as promised, when they got closer to the San Juan Islands, they had a magnificent view.

  “Do you see that?” Bill pointed. “Right there is Orcas Island. That peak is Mount Constitution – twenty-four hundred feet tall! And down below us we’ve got Lopez island.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  She meant it. The islands always took her breath away – no matter how many times she’d seen them and no matter the vantage point.

  Squinting, she could make out a few boats scurrying on the water. The islands themselves were blots of green, covered in thick swathes of trees. Occasionally where the trees cleared, she could make out patches of fields or little farms. It looked so underdeveloped and peaceful, much calmer and less crowded than the city she’d just left behind.

  She didn’t have long to enjoy the view though; within a few minutes they approached the runway of the airport.

  Sandy now regretted that she’d spent so much of the trip feeling afraid. She didn’t usually let herself get worked up like that – though in her defense, this was a new situation.

  In her work as a surgeon, she could watch others panic and all the while keep her cool – but only because she’d been through it a hundred times before.

  She felt the plane drop, but didn’t see the runway until it was right in front of them. Just like with takeoff, the plane plopped down rather unceremoniously. Within moments, they’d slowed and found a place to park.

  “Welcome to San Juan Island, our high temperature today is fifty degrees,” Bill said as he shut off the plane.

  “Only three weeks until Christmas and it’s still that warm?” Sandy peeked out of the window. There was no snow and the island looked as green and lovely as she remembered.

  “It never gets too cold here. Best weather in the world,” he added with a smile. “Thank you for flying with us today, I hope to see you again.”

  “It was really nice, thank you.”

  “Great. Here – I’ll help you out.” He jumped out of his seat and ran around the plane to open her door and fetch her bags.

  “I can walk you into the airport. Do you have anyone here to pick you up?”

  “I do,” Sandy said. “My sister Margie.”

  As soon as they walked in the doors, there was a scream from the other side of the airport.

  “Over here!”

  There stood Margie and her daughter Jade, waving a large sign.

  “Thanks Bill. I think I have the loudest welcome party in the entire airport.”

  “I think you have the only welcome party in the airport. Have fun – and have a Merry Christmas!”

  “You too!”

  Margie continued calling and gleefully waving a sign that read, “All I want for Christmas is my sister Sandy to visit!”

  She laughed to herself. For a moment when she first saw the sign, she thought it might be a joke – something like “Welcome home from prison!”

  But Margie didn’t do things like that; it was far more likely that her kids would pull that sort of prank. It was a good idea, though; Sandy made a mental note to remember to make a sign like that for Margie the next time she came to Boston.

  “You made it!” Margie said once she got closer.

  “I did. It’s so good to see you!” She hugged Margie, then Jade.

  Jade was beaming. “We’re so excited to have you, Aunt Sandy!”

  “Now I’m sure that you’re probably tired from your travels,” Margie said as she wrestled Sandy’s suitcase into her own grip. “But we have about an hour before Santa arrives in Friday Harbor. So if you’re up for it, we can run home, change and do whatever you need to do, and then we’ll head out.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “Come on Mom,” said Jade. “Aunt Sandy’s a surgeon. She doesn’t get tired. You work, like, forty-eight hour shifts, right?”

  Sandy laughed. “Sometimes. But I definitely feel it more now that I’m older.”

  Margie waved a hand. “Nonsense! You don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

  “Right back at you.”

  They hopped into Margie’s car, chatting the whole time. It’d been a while since Sandy visited the island, and nothing looked quite familiar. As they gabbed, she took in the rolling farms and glimpses of the shore between the lush trees.

  It wasn’t until they were riding along the coast that Sandy really recognized something. The shoreline was unchanged – her eyes traced the rocky, jagged edges of the island; the raw power of the water crashing in, again and again.

  Goosebumps rippled over her arms; she remembered standing on those rocks years ago, the sea mist spraying her face. It was her first time on the island – she’d visited right when her brother bought his house. Sandy was at a crossroads then, thinking of leaving her surgery residency and starting over.

  Thankfully, she didn’t do that. It was the right choice.

  They pulled up to the house and before Sandy could even get out of the car, Margie made off with her bag. Once inside, Sandy realized that the house also looked nothing like she remembered. The interior was completely redone and rather tastefully decorated.

  Mike had never decorated the house when he lived there – he sort of neglected it, really. It was clearly in much better hands with Margie.

  Their first stop was the kitchen, where Margie had prepared a number of Sandy’s favorite things – Thai chicken wings on a stick, taco burger sliders, and stuffed figs with honey.

  “Margie, you shouldn’t have done all of this!” Sandy shook her head. “I thought you said that we were going to eat in town?”

  “Well, these were just a couple of little things I wanted you to have,” Margie explained. “I didn’t want you to starve to death!”

  Sandy smiled. As though anyone could starve around Margie – she was an accomplished chef, baker and an overwhelmingly considerate hostess.

  Even when Sandy was invited to speak at a conference at a fancy five-star hotel, their service didn’t hold a candle to her own sister. No one could make her feel more at home or more loved. With Margie, no detail went undone – from her favorite foods waiting for her when she walked in the door, to the water bottle and bowl of her favorite candy (peanut butter M&Ms) at her bedside table.

  Margie was something else.

  Sandy was used to eating while standing, so she stacked a plate with goodies and followed Margie for a quick tour.

  They started with the house and then moved outside. As they approached the barn, Sandy saw a hand-painted wooden sign that read, “The Barn at Saltwater Cove.”

  She smiled. It was perfect. She could see why people wanted to get married here. Once inside, she was awed that this once run-down barn now looked like something out of a magazine.

  “Margie this is really impressive.”

  She beamed. “You think so? Well, thank you. I’ve had a lot of help.”

  “I’m honestly stunned. When you said you were having weddings here I thought – well, I don’t know what I thought. I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a wedding, but I thought it would look like a fire hall or something. But this – this is gorgeous!”

  “Oh stop, you’re going to make me blush!”

  “How has business been?”

  Margie sighed. “It’s been a little slow to start, but not bad. We hosted an office Christmas party last weekend.”

  “Oh, and how did that go?”

  “I thought it went well,” she said. “But apparently one of the organizers, Edgar Tucker, is telling pe
ople that the barn was dirty, and that he got sick from the food. Or no – he blamed the water.”

  “What! That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s making me a little nervous. The barn wasn’t dirty, not in the least! I cleaned everything myself. I’m afraid that if we get a bad reputation…well, I can’t worry about that. I hope that with more time, things will get better.”

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “And in order to get Saltwater Cove’s name out there, I’m hosting a Christmas cookie contest next weekend.”

  Sandy laughed. “Of course you are. Be honest – you just wanted an excuse to have your own Christmas party.”

  “Nonsense,” Margie said with a smile. “Don’t you like Christmas cookies?”

  “As long as I don’t have to make them, yes.”

  “Well don’t worry,” she said. “I’d never force your to bake. I was actually hoping that you’d agree to be one of the judges.”

  “Oh, now you’re talking! I’m in.” Sandy stopped to look at her watch. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

  Margie gasped. “Oh my! Yes! Let me find Jade and we’ll go.”

  They got back to the car and drove to Friday Harbor. It looked like the whole island was getting into the holiday spirit – the sidewalks were brimming with happy little families, sipping on hot cocoa and snacking on freshly fried churros.

  As they made their way to the docks, Margie apologized that it was “so cold.” That made Sandy laugh out loud – when she’d left Boston, it was blanketed with over four inches of snow. San Juan Island felt positively balmy.

  After getting hot cider and cookies, they got to the docks to watch the parade of ships escorting Santa’s boat into the harbor.

  Sandy squinted. “Which one is he on?”

  “The one that says ‘Santa is coming’ with those big banners,” Jade said with a laugh.

  Sandy finally spotted the bushy bearded man standing at the helm of the ship, waving. It was close enough to hear now – the speakers on the ship blasting “Jingle Bells,” much to the delight of the children screaming and waving from the dock.