Clara Dickens wasn’t expecting to find love for the holidays, but with a little help from Mother Nature, that’s about to change.
Veterinarian Clara Dickens is smitten with rancher Asher Barlow, a good-natured animal lover who also happens to be easy on the eyes. But surely he has his sights set on another. Then again, maybe Asher is just as attracted to Clara, the two of them shy and uncertain. After rescuing a down-on-her-luck pregnant mare, Asher requests Clara’s help. To say thanks, he invites her to a dinner among friends.
One dinner date leads to another as the two find themselves dancing around the subjects of love and attraction. With Christmas right around the corner as well as a big blizzard and the arrival of a special foal, maybe they’ll both receive a much-needed shove in the right direction.
General Release Date: 10th January 2017
People were divided into two groups when it came to December. The first half griped about the bitter temperatures, every little snowflake and the seemingly never-ending parade of cloudy gray days. The rest reveled in the beauty of a world layered in sparkling white, the cheery promise of the holidays and a perfect break from the sunny scorchers of summer. Clara Dickens fell into the latter. To her, winter meant nights curled up on the couch under a warm blanket with a cup of cocoa, either getting lost in the pages of a good book or being captivated by the drama of a Hallmark movie.
Yes, winter certainly had its charms.
But it also had its moments worth grumbling over, like shovelling. Or, in Clara’s case, weather that hampered her attempts to make her rounds. She listened to the whoosh of the wipers as they swept quickly melting flakes from her windshield. The radio transitioned from a country love ballad to a weather report Clara already knew by heart. Snow, snow, snow and more snow. The roads were awash with white and everything was starting to blend into a seamless winter wonderland.
At least she was navigating suburban streets instead of getting lost in the countryside. The Cooper family had called the vet clinic shortly after the snow started to fall. Their dog was favoring a paw and they were understandably worried. Clara, having no immediate appointments, had told them to stay home—she’d come out to them. Just one of the perks of being a small-town vet and perhaps her favorite thing about the gig. House calls allowed her the opportunity to really get to know her patients and their owners.
Though developing such a fondness for the critters came with its own heartache. Just another part of the job, one that was completely unavoidable.
Mattie, the Coopers’ collie-retriever mix, turned out to be okay, nothing broken. Clara had diagnosed a soft tissue injury, the equivalent of a human rolling their ankle, no doubt brought about by the pooch’s zestful energy. Some rest and a few days of anti-inflammatories and she expected Mattie would be back to his rambunctious self. News that had cheered the Cooper family, and they sent her away with a tin of homemade cookies.
The tin now sat on the passenger seat, blue and white with a red silhouette of a reindeer. It was a miracle she didn’t pack on the pounds this time of year, what with all the goodies her patients bestowed upon her. Usually it came in the form of cookies, though occasionally chocolate, which lasted longer stored away in the confines of her fridge. By the time Christmas rolled around, a matter of two weeks away, Clara would have obtained enough sweets to host her own get-together. If she felt so inclined.
As much as she loved the holidays, parties weren’t exactly her thing. She always felt awkward in her attempts to make small-talk since her world revolved around animals and very little else. Her love life was, at this point, also nonexistent.
Clara pulled her SUV into the gravel lot outside her clinic, the stone concealed under a cold winter blanket. At least the weather report only called for four to six inches by the end of day, then a short break overnight before they were blessed with more of the white stuff tomorrow. The man she paid to plow her lot and driveway always swung by at some point during the afternoon. Maybe she’d offer him a few of the cookies hiding in the tin.
Though it truly was the thought that counted and the gift of edible delights was generous, Clara spent enough time wrestling with the image she saw in the mirror each morning. For the most part she accepted her curvy exterior, only feeling envious of the more svelte ladies when bathing suit season rolled around. She did not own one and had no plans in acquiring said garment.
She ditched the SUV, trading the blasting heater for the warmth of the vet clinic she’d opened upon moving to town three years ago. How had so much time already have passed? She had purchased the small farm along the outskirts of town, country enough to give her space and privacy, but close enough to enjoy the conveniences of her new hometown. And right smack dab in the middle of her ever-growing list of patients.
The smallest barn on the property had quickly been renovated, turned into the Animal Ark. ‘No critter too big or too small’ was her somewhat clichéd slogan. She tended everything from the tiniest of hamsters to the horses and cattle that kept the ranch operations running. A little bell over the door chimed as she stepped inside, alerting her receptionist to her return.
“Well, look what Frosty dragged in,” quipped the middle-aged woman.
A smile touched the corners of Clara’s mouth. Sitting behind the desk was Margaret Netter, a pleasantly plump woman in her sixties, brown hair shot through with gray, and the kindest hazel eyes Clara had ever seen. Miss Maggie, as most people in town knew her, had come into the office one day two years back, taking down the Help Wanted sign before Clara even had a chance to do a proper interview. Turned out the always chipper woman fit her criteria perfectly and Clara hired her on the spot. With her husband ‘gone to the big snow globe in the sky’, as she phrased it, she’d done nothing more than hopelessly haunt the house they used to share together. Working as a receptionist for the vet clinic got her out and about and helped her keep in touch with the majority of the people in town.
“It seems someone must have given us a shake again,” Clara said, shrugging out of her jacket and leaving it on one of the offered hooks. She shoved her gloves and hat into the pockets so as not to forget them later, a habit she’d picked up in her childhood.
Miss Maggie chuckled at the reference. She was a fan of the glass-globed little trinkets with their perfectly captured wintry scenes within. Though Clara did not know everything there was to learn about Miss Maggie, she got the distinct feeling the woman’s marriage had been the sort every little girl dreamed of having when she grew up. Of course, if that little girl’s love life turned out to be anything like Clara’s it would be nice to just have a gentleman propose a date.
“What’s in the tin?”
Cheery Christmas carols filtered out of a radio in the corner, the volume on low. A strand of multicolored lights outlined the big picture window and a small tree sat on the reception desk wearing a mishmash of ornaments. Upon arriving that morning, Miss Maggie had added a little fiber-optic snowman to their décor. As the old song went, it was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
“Cookies.”
Her eyes lit up. “Made by Farrah Cooper?”
“Yes.” Clara passed the tin over to her friend.
Miss Maggie popped the top off and dug out a chocolaty confection. She bit into it, eyes closed, savoring the flavor. “Oh, she makes the most delicious mocha chip cookies this side of the Mississippi.” Miss Maggie quickly put the lid back on the tin, before shoving them across the desk toward Clara. “Hide these or I swear they’ll be gone by the end of the day.”
This time it was Clara who chuckled. “Okay. But if you want another they’ll be in the bottom drawer of my desk.”
“Why tell me that, child?”
“So I don’t eat them all.” Clara winked, stepping around the desk. “When is my next patient due in?”
Miss Maggie checked the book splayed open on her desk, having never been fond of the computer, using it only when needed. “Doug Rafferty will be bringing his precious kitty by in an hour. Other than that, you’re free.”
“Okay. I’ll be in my office doing paperwork and other boring things that come with owning a business.”
Clara made her way down the hall, passing two exam rooms and the doorway that led to the overnight kennels and the surgery suite, which thankfully got little use. She flipped on the light in her office, then settled in the chair behind her desk. There were no touches of the upcoming holiday in this room, not because she was a Scrooge but merely because her love of the special time of the year had diminished. Her gaze fell to the only framed portrait situated by the monitor and among the scattered mess of the workspace.
Her beloved parents, both gone now. The cruel hand of cancer had taken her father and less than a year later her mom passed from a broken heart.
A heavy sigh escaped Clara as she suddenly slumped in the chair. She felt the familiar ache that accompanied a lonely heart. She certainly didn’t need to have everything right now, the big wedding and kids and all that stuff. Simply having someone as her own, someone to snuggle up to on the cold winter nights and go picnicking with in warmer weather, would be grand enough. However, her last serious relationship had ended on a bitter note three years ago and now at twenty-nine she couldn’t think of a single prospect.
A laugh bubbled up and out of her. “Single prospect, if the shoe fits, my dear.”
Shoving thoughts of love into the depths of her mind, where hopefully they became forever lost, Clara powered up her computer and got to work. Almost an hour later, as she was preparing to see Mr. Rafferty and his cat, her cell phone went off. The name on the screen sent a rush of heat through her body, her heartbeat ticking up a notch.
“Hello?” she answered, hoping the word hadn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded.
“Miss Dickens, I need your help,” the voice on the other end said with a hint of desperation. “Can you come right away?”
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