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    Operation White Christmas: An Escape to the Country novella
    Operation White Christmas: An Escape to the Country novella
    Operation White Christmas: An Escape to the Country novella
    Ebook111 pages1 hour

    Operation White Christmas: An Escape to the Country novella

    By Nicki Edwards

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    About this ebook

    No-one expects to find love in the middle of a snowstorm.

    Hollie Douglas has always dreamed of a white Christmas: carolers, eggnog, pudding, chestnuts roasting on an open fire. In her dreams she shared that fire's hearth with a husband, but two months before her wedding day, her fiancé broke her heart and left.

    Now, determined to go ahead with her honeymoon anyway, Hollie's plans are going awry. It's the day before Christmas Eve and she is stuck in the middle of a snowstorm in Ontario, Canada. Thankfully, luck is on her side.

    When Jim Bell braved a snowstorm to search for one of his orphaned animals, he didn't expect he'd be rescuing a stranded Australian tourist too. A widower, Jim has been dreading another Christmas without his wife, and wonders if offering the stranded Hollie shelter is something he can bear.

    Jim quickly realizes Hollie is carrying as much emotional baggage as him. But as he helps Hollie fulfill her dream of a white Christmas, the winter wonderland and spirit of Christmas may yet work their healing magic on both of them.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNicki Edwards
    Release dateOct 1, 2019
    ISBN9781393147213
    Operation White Christmas: An Escape to the Country novella
    Author

    Nicki Edwards

    Nicki Edwards : AUTHOR OF CONTEMPORARY, HEARTWARMING ROMANCE : Sweet stories set in small towns, filled with life, love and medical dramas. Nicki Edwards is a city girl with a country heart. Growing up on a small family acreage outside Geelong, she spent her formative years riding horses, hand rearing lambs and pretending the neighbour’s farm was her own. After spending three years in a regional city in New South Wales in her 20’s, her love of small country towns and rural life was further developed. ​For years Nicki dreamed of one day escaping to the country with her husband Tim where they would live on land surrounded by horses, dogs, cows and sheep. Unfortunately, that's not likely to happen, so instead Nicki continues to live vicariously through the lives of the characters in the books she loves to read and write. Nicki also dreams of living in Canada, but as that's also unlikely, she keeps visiting and setting some of her books in the country that stole her heart 30 years ago. A voracious reader, Nicki always wanted to be an author. After returning to university as a mature aged student in her mid-30’s to study nursing, she juggled full time study, part time work and raising four small children to achieve her dream of becoming a nurse in 2011. But her other dream - the dream to write - never left. In January 2014 Nicki wrote her first book and was published by Momentum, the digital imprint of Pan Macmillan Australia. Nicki now divides her time between working as a Critical Care Nurse in the Emergency Department or Intensive Care Unit at Epworth Hospital in Geelong or in a busy local General Practice where she works as a Practice Nurse. These are the places where many of Nicki’s stories and characters are imagined. Nicki and her husband Tim live in Geelong, Victoria. They have four young adult children, two spoiled border collies and a Burmese cat. Life is always busy, always fun and definitely exhausting, but Nicki wouldn’t change it for anything. Nicki loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website www.nickiedwardsauthor.com

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      Book preview

      Operation White Christmas - Nicki Edwards

      Chapter 1

      It was going to be the perfect romantic evening. Hollie Douglas felt it in her bones.

      Eight years. Eight years!

      She checked off the list in her head. Candles, yes. Seductive music, yes. Chilled white wine, yes. Tick, tick, tick. Even the spring weather was co-operating. It was warm enough that they would be able to sit outside on the back deck and eat dinner. Even better, the slight breeze was keeping the mozzies at bay, which was good, because Steve was allergic to mosquitoes.

      She’d planned everything. From his favourite meal simmering on the stove, to the fresh sheets on the bed, to the Calvin Klein perfume he’d given her for her twenty-fifth birthday, which she’d dabbed on her pulse points. She gazed around the lounge room. She was ready.

      Hollie pictured the gorgeous photos she would upload to Instagram later that night and imagined all the comments and likes she would receive. She sighed with pleasure. Marking occasions was important to Hollie and tonight she’d thought of everything.

      Tonight was going to be perfect.

      Unlike the last few years.

      She scowled as she recalled their seventh anniversary. She’d had to work a late shift at the hospital and found Steve snoring on the couch when she arrived home. The year before she had the flu. The year before that Steve was away at a conference. And the year before that? She racked her memory but had no idea how they’d celebrated. One year – she couldn’t remember if it was their third, or fourth, anniversary – they’d eaten a fancy dinner at a restaurant in Sydney. Just before their main meals were served a water pipe burst in the street and the entire restaurant had to be evacuated. They ended up eating at McDonalds. She shuddered at the memory. She hated Maccas, but when she’d suggested they find another restaurant Steve said he’d wasted enough money at the first place. Water had been gushing into the restaurant and he’d stood and argued with the manager, asking for a refund. Hollie had been humiliated.

      A funny cold feeling slithered down her spine and she shook her head to clear the unpleasant memories. If she were the kind of woman to get paranoid over such things, she’d say celebrating their anniversary was a doomed occasion. But not this year. The stars were aligned. Or the candles at least.

      She lit the final candle as she heard his car pull up. Standing back, she examined her handiwork. Perfect. She turned off the lights and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the flickering flames. Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

      She and Steve had started dating eight years earlier, back in their final year at school and tonight was the last time they’d celebrate their ‘dating’ anniversary. In two months, they’d be married and there would be a new occasion to celebrate ever year.

      ‘Have we lost power?’ Steve shouted as the front door slammed behind him. ‘Hollie?’

      She walked towards him in the semi-dark. ‘No.’

      ‘Then what’s with all the candles?’

      She moistened her lips. Surely, he hadn’t forgotten. ‘It’s to celebrate.’

      He sighed as he loosened his tie, undid his top button and pecked her on the cheek. ‘What are we celebrating this time?’

      ‘Our anniversary.’

      ‘Oh man, is that today?’

      He flopped onto the couch, kicked off his shoes, swung his legs up onto the coffee table and pressed the remote control for the television, all in one well-practised move.

      Hollie bit back a rude retort.

      ‘You knew it was tonight. It’s been in your diary for weeks.’ And it should have been in your head for years. Eight years to be precise. Why did she have to remind him every. Single. Year?

      He ran his hands over his close-cropped hair and exhaled. ‘Hollie do you know what night it is tonight?’

      She frowned. Other than their anniversary, she had no idea.

      He exhaled and the room reeked of exasperation. ‘It’s the Brownlow.’

      ‘Oh.’

      She flopped beside him on the couch. She had no interest in football but she should have remembered. The Brownlow medal for the best and fairest player in the AFL. It was a big night where all the footy players dressed in expensive suits and the WAGS—a selection of vacuous anorexic Wives and Girlfriends—dressed in even more expensive barely-there gowns, fake tans and loaned jewels. Steve had grown up in Victoria and even though he’d moved to New South Wales as a teenager, he never caught the Rugby bug—Australian Rules Football was too deeply ingrained in his DNA. She should have known better than to interrupt anything footy-related.

      Steve dropped his head on the back of the couch. ‘I’m heading over to Chappie’s house to watch it. I’m sure I told you.’

      She slid closer and lay a hand on his thigh. ‘What time does it start? We could still have dinner first. You need to eat.’

      ‘What I need is a shower.’ He sprang from the couch in one fluid move and headed in the direction of their bedroom.

      Not knowing what else to do, Hollie got up, went into the kitchen, checked the dinner on the stove and poured herself a glass of wine. She was bringing the glass to her lips when Steve’s phone buzzed. It was probably Will Chappell reminding Steve to bring beer. She made a dive for the phone just as it stopped ringing. She frowned at the screen. Missed call from Beck.

      Beck who?

      The phone rang again, and she swiped her thumb across the screen and answered. ‘Steve Marks’ phone.’

      Silence.

      ‘Hello?’ Hollie repeated.

      ‘Oh, hi, is Steve there?’ The deep, throaty voice on the other end sounded like the woman had a cold.

      ‘He’s not available at the moment. Can I pass on a message?’

      ‘Um. No that’s okay. I’ll call him again later.’

      The call ended, leaving Hollie with a funny sour taste in her mouth.

      Steve returned while she was sitting there holding his phone in her hands. Gone was the striped suit, crisp white business shirt and silk tie, replaced by perfectly ironed chino pants and a checked shirt. He didn’t even look at her as he buttoned up the cuffs of his shirt sleeves.

      ‘Sorry Hollie. I can see you’ve gone to a lot of trouble, but it’s the Brownlow. We can celebrate another night.’

      ‘Who’s Beck?’

      Steve’s hand stilled at his wrist and his face blanched.

      Like someone was slowly running an ice cube down her spine, Hollie shivered. Surely Steve wasn’t cheating on her. The hairs on her arms rose and goose bumps erupted.

      ‘Who is Beck,’ she repeated slowly.

      ‘She’s just a work colleague from the Sydney office,’ he replied calmly.

      ‘I didn’t know you had much to do with the Sydney office anymore.’

      He finished buttoning the cuff and he still hadn’t met her eyes. When he finally looked at her, really looked at her, fixing her with his this-is-serious-Hollie look, she knew the words she was about to hear weren’t the words she wanted to hear. She tried to breathe but her chest was strapped tighter than a bride in a wedding corset, as though there wasn’t enough room for her lungs to expand.

      Steve ran one hand across his smooth jaw and exhaled heavily. ‘Jeez Hollie. I didn’t want it to be like this.’

      A sudden fluttering feeling in her chest made her want to sit down. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

      Surely any second he would laugh and tell her he was joking. A wave of despair washed over her because she knew he wouldn’t do that. Steve Marks never joked, because Steve Marks was an accountant, and everyone knew accountants didn’t have a sense of humour.

      ‘I’m sorry Hollie, I can’t do this anymore.’

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