Winter Wishes and Holiday Kisses

♥suspense romance ♥ forced proximity ♥ army veteran ♥ protector ♥ single mom ♥ small town ♥ reverse age gap ♥ snowed-in ♥ second chance ♥

Review quotes

♥ I really want to live in Elken Grove! ♥

♥ All of the feels for the Christmas season ♥

Emily exhaled a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been particularly worried, the logical part of her mind knowing that Lillian was thriving, but it was still comforting to hear the words spoken aloud, to have the validation of a medical professional.

While Emily dressed Lillian again, her hands gentle and sure as she navigated the tiny snaps and buttons, Dr. Harris sat down at his desk, the leather of his chair creaking softly as he settled in. He took notes in Lillian’s patient file, which was still on actual paper. Maybe Emily should have chosen a younger doctor with a more modern practice, someone who embraced the digital age and all its conveniences. Dr. Harris was an old man, close to retirement, and his practice was bright and cheerful, with lots of natural light and tasteful Christmas flower arrangements on the counter, but the cartoon characters on the walls were ones that Emily remembered from her own childhood. Her late husband and his mother had insisted Emily consult him for Lillian, had been adamant that he was the most qualified pediatrician in Savannah, had been Charlie’s doctor too, a fact that they had repeated like a mantra, as if it were a badge of honor.

Dr. Harris closed the file with a snap, the sound startling in the quiet of the room, and looked up, his eyes kind and searching behind his glasses. "How are you getting along, Emily?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, a question that seemed to carry more weight than the words themselves.

“We’re doing well,” Emily replied, as she placed her daughter back into the car seat. “Lillian has been feeding well and seems to be growing every day.”

“I wasn’t talking about her. How do you feel?” Dr. Harris pressed, his gaze intent and probing, his tone insistent.

Was that a thing a pediatrician asked? It seemed like an odd question, a non sequitur in the context of a routine check-up. Emily shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Emily, it’s okay to admit if you’re struggling. There is no shame in asking for help,” Dr. Harris continued, his voice kind but firm, his eyes searching her face for any sign of distress or discomfort, looking at her over the rims of his glasses.

Emily frowned, genuinely puzzled. “What help might I need? Lillian and I are doing great—you said so yourself, just a moment ago.”

“So you insist you don’t need any help?” Dr. Harris harumphed, taking some more notes. He stood up and saw her to the door, his hand on the small of her back guiding her out of the room. “Make sure to get the vitamin D drops from the nurse,” he ordered before calling in the next patient.

Emily, still perplexed and a little rattled, followed the nurse to the lab. The nurse, a tiny Asian woman even shorter than Emily herself, was someone Emily had met before, had seen on previous visits to the office. She clearly loved her job and the patients. The nurse pulled a bottle of vitamin D drops from a drawer and handed it to Emily.

Then, looking around to ensure no one was listening, the nurse closed the door with a soft click and asked Emily to take a seat, her voice low and urgent, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and trepidation. “I know this is none of my business and I probably shouldn’t say anything, but this isn’t right. I overheard Dr. Harris talking to your mother-in-law. She thinks you can’t cope after your husband’s death and might be a danger to your baby.”

Emily felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. Her heart pounded in her ears as the nurse’s words sank in. The sterile white walls of the lab seemed to close in around her. Victoria wants to take Lillian away from me? The thought made her stomach churn. “A danger to Lillian?”

“She is going to file for custody,” the nurse said quietly.

“Custody? But… why?” Emily’s voice trembled with shock, jarred by the betrayal.

“I don’t know how these things work, but I wanted you to have the chance to prepare,” the nurse said sympathetically, her hand reaching out to pat Emily’s arm in a gesture of comfort and support.

Emily’s mind raced, jumping from one scenario to another in a dizzying kaleidoscope of fear and confusion. Victoria’s constant criticism and interference had been a challenge, a thorn in her side that she had learned to live with, to navigate with a delicate balance of diplomacy and avoidance. But this was an entirely new level of threat, a danger that she had never even considered, a possibility that had never crossed her mind.

“She can’t do that. Lillian is my daughter. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of her," Emily said, her voice rising with a sense of indignation and outrage, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as if she could physically fight off the threat, as if she could protect her child through sheer force of will.

“Your mother-in-law is a force to be reckoned with. With her connections here in Savannah, gaining custody might be a pre-arranged matter.”

Emily thanked the nurse and hurried out of the office, her mind reeling. She strapped Lillian into the car seat with shaking hands, barely registering the concerned looks from the other patients in the waiting room.

The drive home was a blur of thoughts and emotions, her mind swirling with possibilities and fears. As unthinkable the idea of Victoria trying to gain custody was, Emily did not doubt the nurse and was deeply grateful for the warning.

She was expected at her mother-in-law’s house for lunch, a standing invitation that she had never questioned, a tradition that had become a part of her routine, a fixture in her life. Victoria insisted on regular meals together, on family gatherings and holiday celebrations, on a level of involvement and intimacy that Emily had always found a bit overwhelming, a bit suffocating at times. But she had never minded all that much, had never really questioned it or pushed back against it. Being pregnant and later having a newborn, she was happy not having to take care of meals, not having to worry about the mundane details of daily life, and she enjoyed the company, the sense of family and belonging that Victoria provided. Just lately, Victoria had become more insistent, more demanding of her time and attention, and they ate together almost daily, a fact that Emily had attributed to Victoria’s desire to spend time with her grandchild, to be a part of Lillian’s life in a meaningful way. She never would have assumed, never would have even considered the possibility that Victoria might want to be the primary caregiver.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, the tires crunching on the gravel, Emily had made up her mind. She couldn’t stay here, not with Victoria poised to take her baby away. She needed to leave, to find a safe place where she could protect Lillian. For once, she was happy to have relented to Charlie’s and his mother’s wishes and had given up her job as soon as they found out she was pregnant. She could leave Savannah right away without letting anyone down, without the fear of burning bridges or severing ties other than with Victoria.

She packed quickly, her movements swift and efficient, taking only the essentials. As she moved through the house, the rooms that had once felt like a sanctuary now seeming cold and empty, memories of her life with Charlie surfaced, mingling with her determination to start anew, to build a life that was truly her own. She tucked Lillian securely in her car seat, the baby’s warm weight a comfort against the chill of uncertainty, and then paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, the air shuddering in her lungs as she tried to calm the racing of her heart.

“We’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered, kissing Lillian’s forehead. “Mommy’s going to keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

It was a long drive to her parents, but she felt a pressing need to huddle up with them, to seek shelter in the comfort of their love and support. She sent them a quick text, her fingers trembling as she typed out the words, hoping they would welcome her with open arms, that they would understand the urgency of the situation without her having to explain everything in detail.

Her own parents hadn’t even met Lillian, a fact that filled Emily with a deep sense of regret and shame. Living in a small town in Tennessee, Emily rarely called them, let alone visited, the distance between them growing with each passing year. The strained relationship between her blue-collar parents, who despised Charlie’s entitlement and privilege, and Charlie, who was uncomfortable with Emily’s humble lineage, made visits difficult. They had never seen eye to eye, their differences too vast to bridge, making all communication labored and unbearable. Emily now wondered why she had never intensified contact with her parents after Charlie died, why she had let the silence and the distance grow, feeling terrible that Lillian hadn’t had a chance to know her other grandparents.

As she pulled out of the driveway, Emily glanced in the rearview mirror. The grand, historic house she had shared with Charlie, with its elegant columns and sprawling gardens, disappeared from view. It was a life she had been thrust into by marriage, a world of wealth and privilege that had never truly felt like her own, and it was remarkable how easily she left it behind, how little she felt as she turned the corner, replaced by the uncertainty of the road ahead and the promise of a new beginning.

The leather steering wheel was slick with sweat under Emily’s palms as she merged onto the highway. Her heart raced, pounding in time with the rhythm of the tires on the pavement. In the backseat, Lillian cooed softly, oblivious to the threat that loomed over their heads like a gathering storm.

Emily’s imagination produced countless scenarios of what Victoria would do once she realized that Lillian and she weren’t coming for lunch. These scenarios ranged from Victoria doing nothing at all, simply shrugging off their absence with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand, to her sending a SWAT team after them, an army of heavily armed men in tactical gear descending upon them like a pack of hungry wolves. Emily couldn’t think straight and had no way of discerning what might happen. She realized she couldn’t deal with talking to Victoria right now, and during a short break at a red light, she blocked her number on her phone, her finger hovering over the button for a moment before pressing down with a sense of finality and relief.

The highway stretched out before her, a path to a new beginning. But the fear of what lay behind and the uncertainty of what was to come weighed heavily on her. All she knew was that she had to keep moving, for Lillian’s sake.

The landscape blurred as she sped towards the state line, the trees and the fields and the houses rushing by in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and motion. Her mind raced with plans and worries, with half-formed ideas of where they would go and what they would do, of how she would keep Lillian safe and build a new life for them both. She could almost hear Victoria’s disapproving voice in her head, the cold, cutting words that had haunted her for so long, but she pushed it aside, focusing instead on the road ahead and the promise of freedom that lay beyond.

She turned on the radio for some music and soon found herself singing along to an emotional Christmas song, the melody soft and sweet, the lyrics speaking of love and hope and the magic of the season. It would be good to spend the holidays with her parents, to be surrounded by their love and support, to feel the warmth of their embrace and the comfort of their presence. When the song ended, the traffic report came on, the announcer’s voice crisp and clear over the airwaves. The roads were mostly clear, he said, but the weather forecast was concerning, a hint of worry creeping into his tone. He warned of light snowfall in the plains and three to four inches in the mountains, with more to come in the next few days. “This Christmas won’t be just white, folks. This year, we’re gonna have white-out Christmas.” Residents were advised to stockpile provisions and to prepare to shelter in place if possible, to hunker down and wait out the storm in the safety and comfort of their homes. It was blowing up a proper blizzard.

Emily was glad to have a safe car that would make it possible for her to get to her parents without being scared. The snowfall today shouldn’t affect her route much as she was staying south of the mountains. Just as she was about to switch stations, ready to lose herself in the mindless chatter of a morning talk show or the upbeat rhythms of a pop song, the program was interrupted, the announcer’s voice taking on a somber, urgent tone that made Emily’s heart skip a beat.

"This is an Amber Alert," he said, his words echoing in the stillness of the car, filling the air with a sense of dread and foreboding. "Authorities are searching for seven-week-old Lillian Sinclair, believed to be in imminent danger. Lillian has blue eyes and light brown hair, and was last seen wearing a pink onesie. She was last seen with her mother, Emily Sinclair, driving a 2023 pearl white BMW X5 with Georgia license plate XYX 6542. Emily Sinclair is described as a thirty-five-year-old female, five foot two, with long dark blonde hair. Authorities believe Lillian may be at risk due to her mother’s unstable mental state. Anyone with information on their whereabouts is urged to contact local law enforcement immediately. Again, this is an Amber Alert for seven-week-old Lillian Sinclair. If you have any information, please call 911."

Emily’s heart stopped as she heard the description of herself and her car. Her hands shook and she gripped the steering wheel tighter, the Amber Alert still ringing in her ears. With a deep breath, Emily pressed down on the accelerator, the car surging forward with a renewed sense of purpose and determination.