Lavender & Mistletoe Read online

  “You ready?” he said, his voice a deep, quiet whisper next to her ear.

  Yes, she thought, feeling shaky and warm, and so, very, very, ready. She wanted to glance back and up at him, see if what she found in his eyes reflected anything of what she was thinking, of what she was feeling. And not for note-taking purposes this time.

  For the first time in her life, all thoughts of note-taking and chart-making went forgotten. Her plans for Chey, her study of human relationships, her need to keep her big brain fully occupied at all times…none of those things were currently pinging around inside her head. In fact, she was having a hard time stringing even the most basic thoughts together.

  Except for one. She grabbed blindly for the door and jerked it open. No, she decided, I’m not ready. For any of this.

  And I’m definitely not ready for you.

  ALSO BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR DONNA KAUFFMAN

  LAVENDER BLUE

  A SEASON TO CELEBRATE (Christmas in Blue Hollow Falls novella)

  BLUESTONE & VINE

  THE INN AT BLUE HOLLOW FALLS (ebook novella)

  BLUE HOLLOW FALLS

  THE BAKESHOP AT PUMPKIN AND SPICE

  THE SUGAR COOKIE SWEETHEART SWAP

  The Bachelors of Blueberry Cove Series

  SANDPIPER ISLAND

  HALF MOON HARBOR

  PELICAN POINT

  The Brides of Blueberry Cove Series

  STARFISH MOON

  SNOWFLAKE BAY

  SEA GLASS SUNRISE

  Cupcake Club Series

  HONEY PIE

  BABYCAKES

  SWEET STUFF

  SUGAR RUSH

  “Hot Scot Trilogy”

  UNWRAPPED/Santa in a Kilt

  OFF KILTER

  SOME LIKE IT SCOT

  HERE COMES TROUBLE

  A GREAT KISSER

  LET ME IN

  Hamilton Series

  THE NAUGHTY LIST/Naughty & Nice

  KISSING SANTA CLAUS /Lock, Stock & Jingle Bells

  TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT/Unleashed

  “Unholy Trinity” Series

  THE BLACK SHEEP AND THE ENGLISH ROSE

  THE BLACK SHEEP AND THE HIDDEN BEAUTY

  THE BLACK SHEEP AND THE PRINCESS

  “The Chisholm Brothers” Series

  THE GREAT SCOT

  BAD BOYS IN KILTS

  “Men of Rogues Hollow” Series

  MERRY CHRISTMAS, BABY

  CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

  BAD BOYS, NEXT EXIT

  JINGLE BELL ROCK

  BAD BOYS ON BOARD

  I LOVE BAD BOYS

  Table of Contents

  ALSO BY BESTSELLING AUTHOR DONNA KAUFFMAN

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Teaser Chapter

  About the Author

  Lavender & Mistletoe

  Donna Kauffman

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 by Donna Kauffman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Zebra and the Zebra logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: October 2019

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4932-6 (ebook)

  ISBN-10: 1-4201-4932-6 (ebook)

  Chapter 1

  “Don’t you even think about dying on me,” Avery Kent warned the muddy, wet bundle in her arms. She turned and very carefully began picking her way through the snow and ice, heading back toward Chey’s pickup truck. “The one time I’m not wearing sensible footwear,” she went on, “and then you happen. I knew I should have worn my snow boots. ‘Dress up,’ they said. ‘It’s a party.’ Well, now you know why I don’t do parties. Not in the winter, at any rate.” The bundle in her arms didn’t so much as budge at her mini lecture, not even a pitiful little bleat. She tried not to let that discourage her. “Looks like we’d have both been better off staying home,” she went on, trying to modulate her voice to something more soothing. She tended to lecture when she was scared. Family trait. Thanks, Mom.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Chey called from the side of the road. She’d dressed up, too, which had been an even more unlikely event. Chey spent most of her time in the stables or out in the lavender fields. Her idea of dressing up was putting on clean jeans and knocking the barn off her boots.

  “Now, don’t let her scare you,” Avery continued, keeping her eye on the path she was slowly traversing and not on her injured passenger. “I tend to lecture when I’m nervous. Chey goes straight to yelling. Not that I’m nervous,” she hurried on. “I mean, I am, but just about the snow and ice. Not about you. You’re a champ. You’re going to be fine.”

  “For God’s sake, what was so important that you had to suddenly scream at me to stop the truck?” Chey yelled from her position at the top of the short embankment. “It took everything I had to keep us from ending up in a ditch, and given I’ve spent the past hour struggling with these road conditions, I really didn’t need any additional obstacles, you know?”

  Avery arrived at the base of the little slope that led up to the side of the road. She’d made her way down said slope fairly well as the snow was deeper there, providing a bit more resistance, while she used her arms for balance. If you could call waving them wildly as she slipped and slid her way down, barely managing to keep from falling on her backside, a smoothly executed transition. Unfortunately, from her current standpoint, she didn’t see how she was going to make her way back up the short incline, especially now that her arms were full.

  She looked up at Chey, the angle allowing the tiny particles of snow now pelting down to cling to her lashes and sting her eyes. “Help?”

  “Where on earth is your coat? You’ll freeze to—?” Then Chey saw the bundle in Avery’s arms and her stern expression vanished. “Oh! Oh no. Stay right there.” Without skipping a beat, Chey shifted from annoyed friend to team leader, moving as quickly to the rear of her big, dual-wheeled truck as was possible in her own high-heeled boots. Once there, she hoisted herself up into the bed, dress slacks, boots, and leather coat be damned.

  Avery gasped, but it was done before she could stop her. Not that Avery could have. “See?” Avery said softly to her bundle. “She can be gruff on the outside, but she’
s a big, gooey marshmallow on the inside. She’ll get us out of here and to help pronto, I promise you.” Just hold on long enough for us to do that, okay?

  Chey popped open the big storage bin that was bolted to the truck bed right behind the cab and slid out a thick, padded moving blanket. A minute later she was back at the side of the road. She shook the blanket out, then held on to two corners as she flung it open and outward, letting it fall on the wet, snowy, muddy embankment. “Climb on,” she directed Avery, having to raise her voice a bit. The wind had picked up and the snow was getting heavier by the minute.

  “I don’t want to put him down,” Avery called back.

  “Neither do I,” Chey said, the sternness back in her voice now. “Both of you, climb on. Then sit down and hold him. I’ll drag you up.”

  Avery did a quick mental calculation and said, “Given the angle of the slope and the height of your heels, the slippery ground and your upper body—”

  “Do it!”

  With no other solution readily available, Avery followed orders. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find herself and her muddy bundle roadside less than thirty seconds later. Chey often exceeded commonly accepted statistical applications. “Thank you,” Avery said, then carefully got to her feet with an assist from Chey. “Sorry about the blanket.”

  “What have you got there,” Chey said, her voice calm, almost soothing as she moved close and bent down to look.

  “Goat,” they both said at the same time.

  “Of course it is,” Chey said, shaking her head. “What is it with Blue Hollow Falls and goats?”

  Avery smiled briefly then, even though her heart was still thumping a mile a minute. “We’re just lucky like that I guess?”

  “Come on, let’s get this guy to Dr. Campbell.”

  “Dr. Campbell? Why not Doc Forrester? I didn’t even know we had a Dr. Campbell,” Avery said as Chey bundled up the now wet and muck covered moving blanket and stowed it in the back. “Dr. Forrester takes care of your horses. Wouldn’t he take care of a goat?”

  “Doc Forrester is out of town through the new year and for a good part of January, maybe longer, I’m not exactly sure. Seminar in South America as part of that global initiative he’s been involved in for years, then home to see his family in Arizona for Christmas, then some conference in San Francisco, I think. Haven’t met Campbell yet, but Doc says he’s worked with animals all over the world, including wild animals and exotics. Apparently, Campbell is part of the same global initiative. I trust Doc’s judgment.”

  “Wow. How did I miss all of that?” Shivering now that the harder part of the rescue was over, Avery realized her thin sweater was more than a little damp and offered scant protection. She followed Chey around the truck to the passenger side door as quickly as she was able.

  “Well, you don’t have a pet, a stable full of animals, or an exotic snake,” Chey said dryly. “So it’s not surprising.” Chey motioned for Avery to hand her the still-dazed and quiet pygmy goat, bundled in Avery’s jacket.

  “But your nice coat—”

  Chey motioned to her now mud- and snow-splattered self. “Seriously?”

  “Right,” Avery said, and handed her the bundle.

  “Climb on up and get buckled in before you catch pneumonia and I’m making two hospital stops,” Chey told her, but she said it in a hushed tone now, as she peered down at the small goat. “What are you doing out in this?” she asked the little one. “Don’t you have a barn somewhere to crash in?”

  Avery followed orders, and once she was buckled in, cautiously took the goat back from Chey. “Still,” she said, the sudden silence now that she was out of the wind making her feel like she was shouting, “in a town this size, you’d think there wouldn’t be anything I didn’t know.”

  “This is why you need to come out of your mad scientist lab now and then,” Chey said wryly. She shut the cab door as quietly as was possible and moved around the front end of the truck, bracing her hand on it to keep from slipping. Even in the short time they’d been stopped, the road had accumulated a thin blanket of snow.

  Avery peered down at her little rescue for the first time since she’d very carefully lifted him onto her once pretty white winter coat and gently wrapped him up. “I’m not a mad scientist,” she told him. “I do have a lab, yes, but I’m experimenting with lavender, for the products we make. Nothing freaky. We grow lavender on our farm, me and Chey. We have two other friends who own and run the farm with us. I’ll introduce you the moment you’re better.”

  The goat didn’t stir, and Avery sighed, trying to ignore the little stab in her heart. She could feel the animal’s rapid little heartbeat, so she knew he was still alive. There were no external injuries that she’d seen. No blood and no limbs at odd angles or anything, but that didn’t mean there weren’t internal injuries. She’d been so careful while moving him, but she knew she might have made them worse. Still, she couldn’t have just left him out there half buried in the snow. At least this way he’d have a chance.

  Chey climbed in and quickly settled herself in her seat, not bothering to dust off the snowflakes that covered her hair and a good portion of her jacket. She sent a concerned glance at the goat, then a worried look at the rapidly diminishing visibility beyond the windshield. “Hold on,” she said. “I’ve got to get this thing turned around and we may slide a bit.”

  They were up in the hills above Blue Hollow Falls proper, which was already high up in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. They were fortunate in that the road was paved, but like most of the roads up here, there were no lines painted on it, and it was barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other safely, especially when one of them was a dually.

  Chey flipped on the wipers and cranked up the defrosters, and carefully, but determinedly, got the truck turned around and made her way back in the direction of the restored mill property run by a group of local artists called the Bluebird Guild. They’d been at the mill that afternoon, attending an art show featuring Hannah’s paintings, amongst other things. Hannah Montgomery was one of the other two partners in their farm, Lavender Blue.

  “How did you even see him?” Chey asked, once they were underway. “I mean, I can barely see past the hood of the truck.”

  “Side view,” Avery said. “Much clearer than yours since it’s not forward facing and being bombarded with snow. Actually, first I saw the tracks and swerve marks in front of us, but as we passed, I looked out the side window, connected all the dots, saw the pile in the show, and realized what had happened.”

  “Swerve marks? What swerve marks?” Chey shot her a quick look, then turned her attention straight back to the road ahead.

  “They were off to the right, big tires, wide wheel base, so likely a pickup truck. Looks like the driver lost traction on the curve. You could see where the tires slid over the gravel on the side of the road, then the driver regained control and kept going. The tracks looked fresh, had little new snow in them, so it couldn’t have happened too long ago. It’s snowing harder now, but I’m guessing no more than ten or fifteen minutes. I noticed the snow beyond the swerve marks was oddly disturbed and then I saw something had been thrown into it, probably from the bed of the truck, given the trajectory. I didn’t know what, maybe it was gut instinct, but I just knew we had to stop and at least check it out.” She glanced down, her expression worried. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this little guy.”

  “You put all that together from a split-second glance at swerve marks?” Chey immediately lifted her hand from the steering wheel. “Never mind. It was a big brain thing, right?”

  Avery looked at Chey, one corner of her mouth lifting in a dry smile. “It was an observation thing.” But yeah, she knew it was also a big brain thing. Her fellow lavender farmers and best friends in the world, Chey, Hannah, and Vivi, teased her about her somewhat unique abilities all the time, and she d
idn’t mind. They were family, the fearsome foursome, and they’d become that close because they accepted and loved each other for who and what they were. Teasing came with the territory. It was based in affection, and to Avery, made the foursome feel even more like a real family.

  On the face of it, it was a factual truth that Avery Kent had a big brain. In regard to its abilities, at any rate. She was a certified genius. She’d gotten her second PhD at eighteen. Her second. Add to that her other freak of nature trait—she’d also been born with an eidetic memory, meaning she had near-perfect recall of everything she’d ever seen, heard, or read—and the big brain moniker became even more apt. She had a lot of information stored up there.

  Her fast working brain, and her memory capabilities, weren’t something she had to work at; it was simply how she was hard-wired. She understood quite well her peculiar skill set could be a little intimidating to people. Or a lot intimidating. Particularly when it came to members of the opposite sex. Like she could do something about it. Chey, Vivi and Hannah, however, weren’t remotely intimidated by her, and she loved them for that, too.

  “And sometimes, big brains find tiny treasures,” she said softly.

  Whether it was the heat on blast in the truck cab, or simply time passing, her whispered words roused the little goat from its stupor. He blinked his eyes open, then looked right up at her. Avery’s heart fell right at his little hooved feet. “Shh,” she whispered, her heart in her throat, “you’re okay. You’re safe and warm. Or getting that way.” Her coat was damp from the snow and the wet goat. Despite the heat blowing, she was still chilled and damp herself.

  “He’s awake?” Chey said, not sparing a look this time. The conditions outside were worsening and the light was getting dimmer by the minute.

  “Looks that way,” Avery said, keeping her voice low. The little billy did try to move then, its survival instincts kicking in, which Avery took as a good sign. The movements were weak and sluggish, though, and she was careful not to tighten her hold too much to contain him. “Shh,” she whispered. “We’re getting you to someone who can help. We’ll get you all checked out. Just stay calm.” She realized she was rocking him but didn’t stop. The movement seemed to soothe the little one, and it helped to soothe her, too. “How much farther?” she asked Chey.