Christmas in Rose Bend
A Rose Bend Novel
by Naima Simone
ISBN: 9781335620996
Publication Date: October 26, 2021
Publisher: HQN Books
Blurb:
The holidays have never been her thing. But Christmas in Rose Bend has more than one surprise in storeโฆ
Grieving ER nurse Nessa Hunt is on a road trip with her sullen teen half sister, Ivy, and still reeling from her motherโs deathbed confession: Nessaโs dad wasnโt really her dad. Seeking answers, they arrive in Rose Bend to find a small town teeming with the kind of Christmas cheer Nessa usually avoids. But then she meets the innkeeperโs ruggedly sexy son, Wolfgang Dennison.
Wolfโs big, boisterous family is like a picture-perfect holiday card. Nessa has too much weighing on her to feel like she fitsโeven though the heat between her and Wolf is undeniable. And the merriment bringing an overdue smile to Ivyโs face is almost enough to make Nessa believe in the Christmas spirit. But with all her parental baggage, including lingering questions about her birth father, is there room in Nessaโs life for happy holidays and happily-ever-after?
*****
Excerpt:
Nessa Hunt didnโt do Christmas.
As an ER nurse, sheโd seen the worst humanity had to offer during the holiday season. Electrocution injuries from plugging one too many Christmas lights into a single outlet. Shoppers with broken noses and blackened eyes from Black Friday fights that erupted over the newest must-have toy. Dads with busted backs from attempting to mount inflatable Frosties and reindeer-drawn sleighs on porch roofs.
And then thereโd been that one memorable sex toy mishapโ Santa had boldly gone where no Santa had gone before.
So, no, she was not a fan of Christmas.
Which meant the town of Rose Bend, Massachusetts, was her own personal version of hell.
โIt looks like Santa Claus just threw up all over this place!โ her sister, Ivy, whispered from the passenger seat.
Now, there was a nice visual. But slowing to a halt at a stoplight, Nessa had to admit the twelve-year-old had a point. Who knew that three hours north of Boston and tucked in the southern Berkshires existed a town straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting? It seemed almostโฆunreal. If any place had that everybody-knows-your-name vibe, it was Rose Bend. Brick buildings housing drugstores, boutiques, a candy store, an ice cream parlor and diners lined the road. The long white steeple of a church towered in the distance. A colonial-style building stood in the center of town, the words Town Hall emblazoned above four columns. And everything was decorated with lights, garland, poinsettias, candy canes and big red bows. Even the stoplights sported huge wreaths decked out with miniature toys and elvesโand the biggest pine cones sheโd ever seen in her life.
Mom wouldโve lost her mind over all this.
The thought snuck out of the steel door in her mind where sheโd locked away all wayward, crippling memories of Evelyn Reed. A blazing pain stabbed Nessa in the chest, and she sucked in a breath. Briefly, she closed her eyes, blocking out the winter wonderland beyond her windshield.
It had been eight long, lonely, bitter months since sheโd lost her mother to uterine cancer. Since sheโd last heard her motherโs pragmatic but affectionate voice that still held a faint Southern accent, even though sheโd lived in Boston for over thirty years. Since sheโd inhaled her motherโs comforting roses-and-fresh-laundry scent.
Since her mother had rasped a devastating secret in a whisper thick with regret, edged with pain and slurred from morphine.
Maybe the well-meaning friends whoโd advised Nessa to see a grief counselor could also counsel her on how to stop being so goddamn angry with her mother for lying to Nessa for twenty-eight years. Maybe then Nessa could start to heal.
โTil then, she had patients to care for. Now she had a sister to raise.
And secrets to keep.
โOh wow!โ Ivy squealed, jabbing the window with a finger. โThereโs a real town square and over there is the biggest Christmas tree Iโve ever seen! Can we get out and walk around? Please?โ
Nessa glanced in the direction Ivy pointed, taking in the square, and in the distance, a massive tree. The idea of strolling around in the freezing weather to stare at a Douglas fir wasnโt exactly her idea of fun. But when sheโd agreed to make this trip with Ivy, Nessa had told herself to make an effort to connect. This was supposed to be about bonding with the sister she barely knew.
Emptiness spread through her and the greasy slide of guilt and pain flooded into the hole. She glanced at Ivy, Nessaโs gaze lingering over the features they sharedโฆbut didnโt. The high cheekbones that dominated a face Ivy hadnโt yet grown into. The thin shoulders that had become even thinner in the last six weeks, since her father had died.
A scream welled up inside Nessa, scraping her throat raw. Ivyโs fatherโIsaac Huntโwas the man who had raised Nessa until he and her mother divorced when sheโd been about Ivyโs age, and then heโd been more out of her life than in it. He had named Nessa as his daughterโs guardian. He had trusted Nessa to care for Ivy, because she was his oldest daughter and Ivyโs half sister. And though she and Isaac hadnโt shared a close relationship when heโd been alive, she couldnโt let him down. And Ivyโฆ
Ivy had lost her mother as a baby, and now her father. Nessa knew what it was like to be alone. She couldnโt take Ivyโs sister away, too.
Even if Ivy resented the hell out of Nessa and begrudged her guardianship with every breath she took.
But Godโฆ Months of bearing a secret weighed on Nessaโs shoulders. And they ached. These last six weeks had been a special kind of hell.
She was so damn tired.
Inhaling a deep breath, Nessa forced herself to push past the soul-deep ache.
She could do this.
One of the first things sheโd had to learn when entering the nursing field was how to compartmentalize hurt, grief and anger. Not allowing herself to be sucked down in a morass of emotion. If she hadnโt acquired that skill, she wouldnโt have been any good to her patients, their families, the doctors or herself. So what if some people called her Nurse Freeze behind her back? She got the job done. Besides, as sheโd learnedโ first, when her father left the family; second, when her ex had traded their relationship for a job in Miami; and third, when her parents diedโloving someone, caring for them, was a liability. Feelings were unreliable, untrustworthy. Parents, lovers, friends, patientsโeveryone always left. Only fools didnโt protect themselves.
And her mother hadnโt raised a fool.
โLetโs wait on that,โ she said, answering Ivy. โWe need to find Kinsale Inn first and get settled. Then maybe later we can come back and do the tourist thing.โ
โRight.โ Ivy dropped against the passenger seat, arms crossed over her chest. The glance the preteen slid Nessaโs way could only be described as side-eye. Paired with the curl to the corner of her mouth, Ivyโs expression had gone from wide-eyed excitement to Eff you, big sister in three-point-five seconds flat. โIn other words, no.โ
โDid I say no?โ Nessa asked, striving for patience. Sheโs a grieving preteen. You canโt bounce her out of your car. CPS frowns on that. With the mantra running through her head, she tried again. โCheck-in at the inn was at twelve, and itโs now one thirty.โ She hadnโt expected to hit so much traffic leaving Boston. Or to take the wrong exit halfway to the Berkshires and have to retrace her route. โWe need to make sure they still know weโre arriving. The square and the tree will be there in a few hours.โ
โUh-huh.โ Ivy snorted. โAnd as soon as we get to the inn, youโll find another excuse not to do anything. Especially with me. Itโs not like you wanted to come here anyway.โ
โFirst off, kid, Iโm not the kind of person who does anything she doesnโt want to do. Second, if I give you my word, I mean it. And third, what does โespecially with meโ mean? Who else would I be up here with?โ
โWhatever,โ Ivy muttered.
Nessa breathed deep. Held it. Counted to ten. Released it. Then tried again. โIs this how the next month is going to be? You angry and me taking the brunt of it? Because I have to tell you, we couldโve done this dance back in Boston without carolers and hot chocolate stands.โ
โDonโt pretend like you did this for me. You donโt even like me. This is all for your guilt over Dadโs letter. Fine with me if we go back to Boston. I donโt care.โ
Nessa tightened her fingers around the steering wheel, not replying. Anything she said to Ivy at this moment would only end up in an argument. Thatโs all she and Ivy had seemed to do since the funeral. Nothing Nessa did could make Ivy happy.
And as much as Nessa hated to admit it, there was some truth to Ivyโs accusation. Because a part of herโJesus, she hated admitting it even to herselfโdidnโt like Ivy. Was jealous of her. For having more of Isaacโs love. For having him when Nessa hadnโt, even when sheโd needed him.
Even though Nessa had called Isaac Hunt Dad all her life, he was more or less a stranger to herโฆjust like the silent, stiff twelve-year-old hunched on the seat next to her. Heโd been an absentee parent since his divorce from her mother sixteen years ago, and Nessa had met her half sister maybe five times before their father died from pancreatic cancer. Hell, she hadnโt even known heโd been ill until the final time heโd ended up in the hospital. She hadnโt even had a chance to sayโฆwhat? Goodbye? Where the hell have you been as a father for sixteen years? Why didnโt you love me as much as you loved your other daughter?
I love you.
Dammit. Damn damn damn.
She fisted her fingers to keep from pounding the steering wheel.
So yes, guilt had pushed her into taking a previously unheard-of short-term leave from the hospital. Itโd goaded her into going up to Ivyโs school and letting them know the girl would be missing the last two weeks before Christmas break to take an extended vacation.
She swallowed a sigh, and as the light changed, pressed on the gas pedal. A tense, edgy silence filled the car. Nothing new there either. Nessa snuck another look at the girl, noting the sullen expression turning down Ivyโs mouth and creasing her eyebrows into a petulant frown.
Maybe their time in Rose Bend would give Ivy her smile back. Or at least rid Ivyโs lovely dark brown eyes of the sadness lurking there.
And maybe Santa really did fly around the world.
Yeah, Nessa had stopped believing in miracles and fairy tales years ago. Better Ivy learn now that life dealt shitty hands, and you either folded or played to recoup your losses.
Soon, they left the downtown area and approached a fork in the road. As she turned her Durango left onto a paved road bordered by treesโฆ
โOh wow,โ Ivy breathed.
โGood God,โ Nessa murmured at the same time, bringing her vehicle to a halt in the driveway that circled in front of the huge white inn.
Oh, Mom. You wouldโve so loved this.
A short set of stairs led up to a spacious porch that, according to the brochure, encircled the building. The wide lower level angled out to the side, with the equally long second floor following suit. The third, slightly smaller story graced the building with its dormer window, and a slanted roof topped it like a red cap. A broad red front door with glass panes along the top and dark green shutters at every windowโand, damn, there were a lot of windowsโand large bushes bordering the front and sides completed the image of a beautiful country inn. But it was the wreaths and bows hung on the door and walls, and the lights that twinkled along every surface, that transformed the building into a fairyland. A Christmas fairyland.
Excerpted from Christmas in Rose Bend by Naima Simone.
Copyright ยฉ 2021 by Naima Simone.
Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
*****
Author Info:
USA Today Bestselling author Naima Simone’s love of romance was first stirred by Johanna Lindsey and Nora Roberts years ago. Well not that many. She is only eighteen…ish. Published since 2009, she spends her days writing sizzling romances with heart, a touch of humor and snark.ย She is wife to Superman–or his non-Kryptonian equivalent–and mother to the most awesome kids ever. They live in perfect, sometimes domestically-challenged bliss in the southern US.
Facebook: @naimasimoneauthor
Instagram: @naimasimoneauthor
Twitter: @Naima_Simone
*****
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