Snowflakes and Kisses

By Barbara Baldwin

Welcome to Cherrywood -- a small town where we celebrate the magic of Christmas all month long. Come enjoy holiday lights, dances and music; ice skating and snow sculptures; fellowship and generosity of spirit and above all – romance and family.

Erin Thomas, confidential investigator, uploads her latest case files to the Hartford DA and happily shuts down her computer, promising herself she won’t open it again until the New Year. Even though it’s December, she is ready for vacation and looks forward to visiting the small town of Cherrywood. She wants no more than to sleep late, wander the Christmas markets and catch up on reading the latest romance novel from her favorite author.

Remington Matthews enjoys his life in Cherrywood and his job as part time sheriff is enough to keep him busy but also allows him time to pursue other interests. He’s happy to help people he’s known all his life and even allows his quirky twin sister to pull him into her antics during the month long Winter Festival. Perhaps the only down side to the small town is the lack of romance, but that changes the day he meets Erin.

Erin’s encounter with Remington takes her by surprise. She certainly doesn’t intend to fall for his cover model smile and engaging personality. Yet because Cherrywood is a very small town, she keeps running into him and before long he completely occupies her time and her dreams. He pulls her into holiday activities she never took time to enjoy; introduces her to family and captivates her with fiery kisses and romantic adventures. In Cherrywood, it’s easy to believe in the magic of the holiday. For Erin, that magic and this particular man might change her life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Nov 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9780228618522

Barbara Baldwin

Barb loves to travel and explore new places and each of her novels is set in a different locale. She has written practically all her life, beginning with journals of family vacations. She is now published in poetry, short stories, essays, magazine articles, teacher resource materials, and full-length fiction. She also wrote and co-produced a documentary on Kansas history that won state and national awards. She has an MA in Communication, has taught at the college level and has made over 100 presentations at state and national conferences.Barb can be reached at [e-mail] or through her website at www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin.

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Snowflakes and Kisses

Barbara Baldwin

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-1852-2

Kindle 978-0-2286-1853-9

PDF 978-0-2286-1854-6

Print ISBNs

Amazon Print 978-0-2286-1855-3

LSI Print 978-0-2286-1857-7

B&N Print 978-0-2286-1856-0

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

Dedication

For all my family and friends

who have shared their holiday traditions over the years.

May this holiday be the best ever.

Chapter 1

Stop! Thief!

Rem jerked upright from tying his shoe and saw Mrs. Peacock drop to a bench against the wall as a youngster grabbed her grocery bag and darted down the sidewalk. He took off and caught him by the collar within half a block, jerking him around.

Robbie Jenkins, what the hell? The kid was a local; a good kid as far as he knew and never in trouble of any kind. Grabbing him in a head lock, he dragged him back to where the older lady still sat.

Are you all right, Mrs. Peacock? he asked, easily keeping a squirming Robbie locked against his side.

She turned to look at him in surprise, then quickly glanced straight ahead. I’m…I’m fine, Sheriff, she said loudly. He may have gotten my groceries, but he didn’t nab my tickets to the Winter Festival! She held up two cardboard tickets, grinning somewhere off to his left.

Cut! That’s a wrap! A voice hollered from across the narrow thoroughfare.

Rem stood on the sidewalk, Mrs. Peacock grinning like a loon and Robbie struggling to get free. As he tried to process the scene, Gwendolyn, his twin sister, hurried across the street.

Oh my gosh. That was totally unscripted but so much better than I could have written, Gwen exclaimed when she stepped onto the sidewalk.

What the…? Behind his sister stood a man with a camera and a couple of other people he didn’t recognize.

Let him go, Rem, Gwen said, tugging on his arm.

He kept his grip on Robbie. He took Mrs. Peacock’s groceries, he said but even as he spoke, he didn’t sound very convincing. His sister laughed and the others joined in. Rem could feel his face heat.

We’re making a marketing video, his sister said with a sigh. Now let him go.

Rem looked back at Mrs. Peacock who slowly nodded in agreement, a smile on her wrinkled face.

Did I get my lines right, Gwendolyn, dear? she asked sweetly.

You were awesome, Gwen answered before turning back to Rem with a brow raised.

He slowly released Robbie but latched onto his sister’s arm instead. None too gently, he tugged her away from the rest of the people clustered in front of Nobbie’s Grocery.

What the hell, Gwen? He spun her to face him.

Seriously, Rem, with all your literary skills, can’t you come up with something more original?

Don’t push me, Gwendolyn Elizabeth Matthews. Spill it. His twin had been the bane of his existence for thirty years and that didn’t appear to be changing anytime soon.

She pulled her stocking cap off and shook out her hair, the black curls swaying around her face. It was like looking into a mirror except for the length of her hair. The same green eyes stared back at him, the same straight nose and high cheekbones defined their Irish heritage although her features were somewhat softer than his. Unfortunately, the same stubborn chin rose in defiance.

You know you can’t bully me, Rem, even if you are the sheriff and even less because you’re my brother. We were shooting a video for the community calendar to advertise the Winter Festival. As head of the Chamber of Commerce, his sister went overboard sometimes to put Cherrywood on the map.

He rubbed a hand over his face. You could have told me. I thought we were having an actually robbery.

Hungry for a little action? She grinned at him and the last of the tension slid away. He had to admit being sheriff, albeit part time, in the sleepy little town of Cherrywood didn’t lead to many bragging rights at the national law enforcement conventions. The entire town had only a few thousand people; more in the summer as it was a hot beach destination on the east coast. However, once the first frost came, the tourists left and residents hunkered down for the winter. Now that December had arrived, the wind off the Long Island Sound often blew bitterly cold. So far this winter, the snow accumulation promised a brisk business for the Winter Festival with all the activities the town had planned.

Delete that video, he ordered as he tugged his stocking cap over his ears and turned to finally start his daily run.

No way, his sister called behind his back with a laugh. Don’t forget to stop at the office and sign a release. Her laughter followed him down the street.

Three days later, Rem almost reconsidered taking his usual route jogging. Ever since his sister had posted that stupid video, he couldn’t go anywhere without a half dozen people trying to stop him and ask if he caught a thief. He usually did a thumbs-up and kept on going because he knew they were simply having fun, even if it was at his expense.

Today he really didn’t want to run into anyone because he had things on his mind. His latest manuscript had a problem and even after talking to his editor, he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what he needed to change. Many times, a good run would clear his mind and help him refocus.

He slowed as he trotted down the steps from the park to the beach. There was snow in town and on the sea grass that sloped down to the beach, but at the bottom of the steps the snow disappeared, and he hit soft sand. He slowed further until he got to the packed sand at the water’s edge and then kicked into a slow run. Out of habit, he glanced up to the ocean front houses he passed which sat on the rise above the beach.

He knew which were empty for the winter and what residents stayed in Cherrywood all year round. His parents’ house sat about a mile further down the beach where a pier ran from the shrubs out almost half a mile into the water. He couldn’t make out the house from where he ran, as the trees they had planted yearly were finally the height for camouflage, even if they were bare of leaves at the moment. Except for college and his stint in the Marines, Cherrywood had always been his home and even now, he lived in the carriage house on his parents’ property.

His parents were okay as parents went and left him to his own devices except for Sunday dinner, a requirement unless he had a doctor’s excuse. His father, though retired now, had been an attorney for forty years but had never hassled Rem about his own path through the law. His mother, on the other hand, embraced the job of mothers worldwide, which meant nagging him to get married and have babies.

Why doesn’t she nag Gwen for babies, he muttered to himself. He was perfectly content with his life, even if it rather lacked in the romance department. That might be the one drawback to living in a small town.

He narrowed his gaze to a figure jogging along the water some fifty yards ahead of him. Not many people ventured forth when the temperature dropped to the forties, and he seldom encountered anyone midday. That made him curious. Besides, even from this distance he could tell the runner was female. Her long legs ate up the distance and a long ponytail of auburn hair swung behind her. He picked up his pace.

***

Ah, vacation. Finally, Erin thought as she inserted her ear buds, turned on her playlist and started jogging along the hard packed sand that edged the beach by the town of Cherrywood, Connecticut. She had chosen Cherrywood for her two-weeks vacation because it was an out of the way small town and they were having a winter festival with a craft market; the type of thing she loved. Other than that, she wasn’t really looking for excitement. In fact, after this last year of intense work and a broken relationship, she wanted nothing more than to sleep in, read a good book and enjoy great seafood.

As a confidential investigator for the Hartford District Attorney, she had been working a case for the past year and at times had wondered if it would ever end. But she prided herself in being able to find that one computer link that led to unraveling an entire conspiracy, in this case within the Copper and Teller Company, one of the largest, privately owned technology and software companies in the state.

The DA had gotten wind of possible wrongdoing within the company, and as with almost any technology enterprise, they always worried about deep cyber crime or even something of national security proportions. Erin’s job as an investigator focused on computers. Both an analyst and an expert hacker, she had investigated the company in depth, unearthing both fraud and embezzlement but within the company and not against competitors. That meant charges could be made at the state level. Once she had turned in her reports, the DA’s office would take the next steps and they didn’t involve her at all. Thank goodness.

She reached up to increase the volume of her music, letting her thoughts clear as the soulful sounds of John Legend soothed her. She raised her face to the warm sun, momentarily closing her eyes and sucking in a deep breath of crisp, salt-tinged air. As she opened her eyes, a movement off to the side caused her to stop short and whip around. She hadn’t noticed anyone coming up behind her and now a man stopped only a step or two beyond her. She immediately took a defensive stance; arms bent, weight balanced on her left foot, her right poised to kick.

He held one palm out in a placating gesture as he grabbed his knit hat off his head.

She sucked in a breath. He was the perfect portrait—silhouetted by the blue sky, frozen in time on a windblown beach with angry waves crashing at his back. His spiky black hair framed a face far too handsome, even with a shadow of beard on his chiseled chin. He was straight out of her most vivid dreams. She pulled out her ear buds and reached up to the phone strapped to her bicep, never taking her gaze off him.

Are you Poseidon’s daughter, come from the sea to wreak heartache on mortal man? His deep voice only added to his sexy image.

Her eyes widened and she pinched her mouth shut trying to show disapproval. And then he smiled, and it made her laugh.

Does that line work? she asked as she relaxed her stance.

I can’t say as I rarely if ever meet anyone while running on this beach, especially in this weather. His grin grew.

Yet suddenly here I am, she said, deciding in that moment his intense green gaze held honesty and inspired trust. She pulled a mitten off and put out her hand. I’m Erin Thomas.

Rem, he stammered, jerking off a glove to enclose her hand in his. His warmth raced straight up her arm. When she tilted her head in question, he clarified. Remington Matthews. A gust of wind stirred the sand at their feet, and she shivered.

Front’s coming through and the temps will be dropping as the day goes on instead of warming, he said. I’d suggest we carry this conversation up the trail and back into town to the coffee shop.

A little fast, she thought warily as she took a step back, then another as he reached in his back pocket, but he pulled out his wallet and flashed a sheriff’s badge.

Her brows rose. Well, that trumps my job, she stated.

He shot her another grin and she decided to take a chance. After all, he had offered a public place, and coffee.

She shrugged. Lead the way. She started jogging in place as she pulled her mitten back on.

He pointed to the left where railroad tie steps led back up to the edge of town and they took off together. When they got to the steps, he waved her ahead of him. Erin knew he watched her as she ran up the steps but then she was used to people, especially men, watching every move she made. She worked in a field still predominately run by men. Though getting better, the classes she taught at UCONN were still also mostly men. They questioned her knowledge, then they questioned her femininity, assuming any female who spent so much time alone on a computer must not have estrogen running through her veins. She gave an extra wiggle of her butt as she crested the hill. She definitely was all female and the man behind her had jacked her estrogen levels to an all time high.

He came abreast of her and they slowed to a walk. She caught a landscape view of Main Street as they came to the end street of town. A picture postcard, similar to many of the beach resort towns along the coast, yet it had a charm of its own. The store fronts were all painted in pastels – peach and turquoise, yellow and pale pink. Hand painted signs proclaimed ‘Nobbie’s Grocery’, ‘Nelson’s Pharmacy’, ‘Barbie’s Bakery’, just to name a few, and her personal favorite ‘Mirabelle’s B&B’, where she happened to be staying. Built on a hill that overlooked the harbor, small houses, a church or two and some other community buildings rose in neat rows behind the main street. It had been just the place she needed to get away for vacation and try to figure out her life after Alex.

Rem stopped in front of a store in the middle of the block and pulled the door open for her. The rich smell of coffee wafted across the warm air as they entered.

Shut the door, sheriff, someone yelled. Don’t you know it’s winter?

Sit closer to the back, George, Rem said with a laugh as he slapped an older man on the back as they passed.

So, you didn’t get that badge out of a cereal box? Erin asked as they approached the counter.

I did, but don’t tell them, he whispered. What’ll you have?

Vanilla latte.

You heard her, Trudy, he said to the girl behind the counter, and I’ll take a caramel brulee latte. He saw her smile and added, What?

You must come here often to know the specialty drinks.

He shrugged, grabbing the two drinks and heading to a table off to the side. She looked to the cashier because he hadn’t paid but she just grinned and shook her head.

He shrugged out of his vest and jacket and pulled the cap from his head. The long-sleeved jersey he wore hugged his muscles and trunk. Apparently, his running regime kept him very fit. A day-old scruff framed his grin and his green eyes sparkled when he caught her giving him the once over and she gave a mental shrug. Quid pro quo.

She continued to stare at him when he smiled, wondering why he looked so familiar. And then it struck her. You’re Remington Matthews.

He looked confused. Yes, I introduced myself on the beach.

"No, I mean you’re the Remington Matthews; the writer." She had read his book on small town law enforcement, and she had totally obsessed over his cover jacket photo.

He seemed nonplused that she recognized him. What exactly are you referring to?

Small Town Justice, she said the title, wondering if he had written more than one book. I work for the District Attorney and while not a lawyer, I read just about anything having to do with the law because it does indirectly relate to my work. However, I have a bone to pick with you. Not to sound sexist, but why were all the people you interviewed male? Don’t you think women can shoot guns, capture criminals and dispense law edicts?

He chuckled. Are you always this prickly, Ms. Thomas?

She felt heat burn up her neck and into her cheeks. He was right, of course. She shouldn’t project attributes on him when she didn’t know him at all. Yet looking across the table at him as he sipped his coffee, she thought she would like to get to know him better.

Call me Erin, and I apologize. I live in a world dominated by men and even though we…women…are making strides, it sometimes seems we move backward rather than forward.

He nodded before she had even finished. I have a sister and a very feminist mother so believe me when I say I try to keep the sexist tendencies to a minimum. However, I hear what you’re saying, and not just because my sister says the same. Unfortunately, there simply aren’t any small-town police or sheriff departments run by women. He leaned closer, his gaze potent as it traveled over her face. "But I want you to know, personally I love women. I love their intelligence and their abilities and wish I had the opportunity to work with them more often."

She wasn’t sure how to take his words. Although she found him attractive, it would be disappointing if he were a player. Deciding their conversation had gotten too personal, she searched for a generic subject.

Does being sheriff of such a small town keep you very busy?

I actually work for the county and I’m only part time. I don’t have regular hours but am more of an on-call employee. If anything major should happen, knock on wood, the district sheriff department is called in. Besides, this town pretty much polices itself. Everybody knows everybody else and their business, so if anything out of the ordinary happens, you can bet someone notices and reports it. He took another sip of coffee, studying her over the rim of his cup. For example, my mother probably already knows that I’m having coffee with a pretty lady. She’ll ask my sister, who runs the Chamber, who it is, and since my sister won’t know, she’ll come looking for me within half an hour.

So, you’re originally from here?

"Born and raised. My folks