Christmas by the Sea , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Melody Carlson

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87 pages

English

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When Wendy Harper inherits her family's beachside cottage in Seaside, Maine, she sees it as a way to finally pay off the debts that have mounted since her husband died. But before it can be sold, the neglected property must be renovated. She and her 12-year-old son Jackson move in--temporarily, she reminds him--in order to do the work themselves, even though Christmas is coming. The charming town, along with local craftsman Caleb Colton, pulls on both Wendy and Jackson, who even registers himself for school in a bid to get his mom to move them there permanently. Wendy knows that the most responsible thing to do is to sell the cottage and return to Ohio, but the lure of the sea is hard to resist.Join award-winning author Melody Carlson for a Christmas story that will warm your heart and have you dreaming of your own enchanted seaside holiday.

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Romance

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	04 septembre 2018
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493415045
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0490€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2018 by Carlson Management, Inc.
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1504-5
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Endorsements
Praise for The Christmas Blessing
“Delightful prose and an affirming resolution will please readers.”
Publishers Weekly
“Novelist Melody Carlson has written a deftly crafted, consistently entertaining, and ultimately inspiring story of love, hardship, and reconciliation that will leave readers filled with Christmas joy.”
The Midwest Book Review
Praise for The Christmas Angel Project
“Carlson’s latest holiday offering is sure to become a fan favorite! Full of hope, it embodies all that is beloved about the Christmas season.”
RT Book Reviews
Praise for The Christmas Joy Ride
“No one captures the heartwarming fun of the Christmas season quite like Melody Carlson.”
USA Today
“Popular and seasoned author Carlson skillfully draws readers into the lives of her characters; they, too, will feel like they are traveling along Route 66. Fans of Robin Jones Gunn and Catherine Palmer will surely find themselves snatching this quick Christmas read off the shelves.”
Library Journal
“Uplifting and meaningful.”
RT Book Reviews
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
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About the Author
Books by Melody Carlson
Back Ads
Back Cover
one
W ENDY HARPER never considered herself a deceitful person. In fact, she was so scrupulously honest that it sometimes got her in trouble. Yet as she drove her jam-packed Subaru wagon over the Maine state line, she felt a gnawing sense of guilt. Maybe it was deceit by omission, but she knew it was wrong to let Jackson draw his own conclusions about their trip. Even if it was a convenient deception, she needed to convey the truth to her son. Without squelching his spirit—and hopefully before they reached their destination.
Wendy turned on the wipers, praying there wasn’t snow in the drops pelting her windshield. It was late November, and although Ohio had been unseasonably warm when they’d left home, she knew that weather could change in an instant on the eastern seaboard. She glanced over to see that Jackson had drifted off. He might be a preadolescent, but he always appeared younger and more vulnerable while sleeping. Of course, his sweet innocence only added to her mother lode of guilt. She resisted the urge to adjust his oversized glasses, currently resting cockeyed on his straight freckled nose, or to remove his bright blue earbuds. Best to let sleeping boys lie.
Wendy knew her twelve-year-old was on the cusp of manhood. He was already as tall as her, and his voice had recently grown a bit deeper and cracked occasionally. Her best friend, Claire, claimed it was because Jackson was trying too hard to grow up and take his father’s place. “He confided something to me last summer when he was helping me with yard work,” Claire had disclosed just days ago. “He said Edward told him he’d have to become the man of the house . . . you know, after . . .”
Wendy had been both surprised and dismayed to hear this. It was hard to believe her husband would say such a thing to a child. What a heavy load to lay on a nine-year-old. Yet it did explain Jackson’s change of interests these past couple of years—giving up soccer and lacrosse, spending more time at home. She loved that he was reading more but hated seeing him turn into a young hermit.
Jackson had even begged Wendy for home school, claiming he could keep up with his studies online. Worried about social isolation and lack of supervision, Wendy had promised to make this decision after Christmas. He’d protested, but a phone call from her grandfather’s attorney provided the perfect distraction. Although Poppa had passed away last summer, Wendy had never expected him to leave her his beach cottage in Maine. When Jackson heard the news, he acted like they’d won the lottery! Even though she was touched by Poppa’s generosity, her only goal was to get the property sold ASAP.
“We gotta go there!” Jackson had declared. At first she balked, knowing they couldn’t afford the round-trip airfare or the time a drive from Ohio to Maine and back would require. But Jackson kept pushing until she finally gave in. Taking a few days off work during Thanksgiving week sounded doable—and that way she could personally meet the Realtor, list the house, and hopefully sell the cottage quickly. That money would help her and Jackson immensely.
The decision to drive to Maine was like a tonic for Jackson. A whole new boy, he’d even quit complaining about school. Of course, she eventually discovered that was because he’d been telling everyone that they were permanently relocating to Seaside, Maine. Despite her telling him to pack only enough for two weeks, he’d shoved everything he could fit into every crevice of her old Subaru. But his erroneous assumption had been so transformative that she’d simply kept her mouth shut. She just couldn’t bear to rain on his happy parade. Oh, she attempted to dissuade him a few times. She’d warned him that the beach cottage was just a summer place that would be freezing cold in winter. But Jackson, ever the online researcher, insisted they could weatherize it themselves.
“And I can chop firewood and fix things,” he’d offered. Every obstacle she tossed his way was soundly batted back with stubborn youthful optimism. Even when she described the house as a tiny, run-down shack—probably dilapidated, rodent infested, and rotting—he totally dismissed her concerns. And as she’d stuffed the last box into the back of the Subaru, she’d noticed Edward’s old toolbox wedged in a corner.
Wendy glanced at her rearview mirror to see the stacked boxes and bags filling the back of her car. Unsure of what they’d find in the neglected cabin, she’d packed everything but the kitchen sink. And since her boss had generously granted her additional vacation time, they would be in Seaside for a while. Almost until Christmas.
Of course, her packing and preparations had simply bolstered Jackson’s confidence that they were “gone for good.” And with each passing mile, his excitement and optimism had grown. While it made him a congenial traveling companion, it made her increasingly uneasy. She really needed to get him to understand their real purpose.
In his enthusiasm, Jackson had gone online, researching all he could find about Seaside and the Maine coast. Now he was convinced that he would learn to fish and sail . . . and to surf next summer. The more he’d shared his hopeful dreams the harder it became to disclose the whole truth. She hinted when she got the chance, but how could she admit that the real purpose of this trip was to spend a few weeks fixing up the beach cottage—then sell it? It would crush him.
Wendy didn’t know the real value of Poppa’s beach cottage, but even if it was a dilapidated wreck, which was possible, she felt certain the beachside location would be enough to wipe out the medical bills that insurance didn’t cover and provide a small safety net for her and Jackson. If she was lucky it might even pay off their student loans and seed a small college fund for Jackson. She was probably overly optimistic, but no matter what, it would help.
She never discussed finances with Jackson, but Edward’s battle with cancer had left her deep in debt. Even after selling their home, which had little equity, and moving to an “affordable” apartment, she’d been unable to climb out. Edward hadn’t worked long enough before getting sick to have much in social security benefits. Certainly not enough to support them. So inheriting Poppa’s sea cottage felt like a gift from God—just what they needed to get back on their feet. She was determined, no matter how much Jackson loved it and protested, the cottage must be sold.
Jackson suddenly sat up, giving her a start. “Are we there yet?” He chuckled at his own gaffe. “Sorry, Mom—you warned me not to say that again.”
“Well, as it turns out, we passed the Maine state line around noon and—”
Jackson let out a happy whoop. “You should’ve woken me up. How much longer till Seaside?”
“I really hope to get there before dark. Why don’t you check the GPS and tell me our ETA.” She knew how Jackson liked acronyms.
Within seconds, he reported that they would arrive at their destination in three hours and seven minutes. “According to my calculations, that will be about 3:54,” he declared. “Unless we stop.”
“Well, I do need a pit stop and we need gas. I don’t think Seaside even has a gas station,” she told him.
“And I’m kinda hungry.”
“We’ll grab a quick bite and eat it in the car to save time.”
“Sunset is supposed to be at 4:09,” he told her. “That’s because Maine is so far north. The shortened daylight time might take some getting used to, but I heard the long summer days make up for it. Do you know that the astronomical twilight lasts until almost eleven o’clock in late June? That’ll be so cool.”
“I don’t know what an astronomical twilight is, but I do remember very late summer evenings.” She grimaced to think of how he’d never get to experience that.
“Did you go to Seaside every summer as a kid?” he asked with interest.
“Every summer I can re