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    Love at Mistletoe Inn: A December Wedding Story
    Love at Mistletoe Inn: A December Wedding Story
    Love at Mistletoe Inn: A December Wedding Story
    Ebook131 pages2 hours

    Love at Mistletoe Inn: A December Wedding Story

    By Cindy Kirk

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    They’ve helped orchestrate the perfect day for countless couples. Now twelve new couples will find themselves in the wedding spotlight in the second Year of Weddings novella collection.

    Sometimes the road to happiness is paved with youthful mistakes.

    Hope Prentiss didn’t go to the Harmony High School senior prom. Instead, she and John Burke drove to Boise and got married. At eighteen. But when Hope panicked after saying “I do,” the mail-order preacher assured her he just wouldn’t send in the paperwork. No forms, no marriage, no problem. Right?

    Well . . .

    Now, ten years later, Hope discovers that her prom-night wedding counted—and, as fate would have it, the jilted John Burke has just ridden back into town. And he’s staying with her Aunt Verna at the inn where she and Hope host weddings. Though Hope thinks she wants an annulment, a little time with John makes her think twice . . . and emotions between the more-or-less Mr. and Mrs. Burke reach a boiling point a soon as they get a moment alone.

    With annulment out the window, Hope finds herself staring in the face of a divorce. But after spending some time with John and helping plan a Christmas wedding for a mystery couple, Hope begins to wonder if she really wants a divorce … or a real wedding of her own.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherZondervan
    Release dateNov 25, 2014
    ISBN9780310392187
    Author

    Cindy Kirk

    Cindy Kirk is a Booksellers’ Best Award Winner, a National Readers’ Choice Awards finalist and a Publishers Weekly bestselling author. Cindy has served on the Board of Directors of the Romance Writers of America (RWA) since 2007 and currently serves as President. She is a frequent speaker at national and regional writing conferences. Website: www.cindykirk.com Twitter: @CindyKirkAuthor  

    Read more from Cindy Kirk

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    Reviews for Love at Mistletoe Inn

    3.5/5

    9 ratings2 reviews

    What did you think?

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    • 3/5
      This holiday romance has:
      ❄Focus on a Winter Holiday
      ❄Friend/Family Reunion
      ❄Second Chances

      Say you ran off after prom and married your high-school sweetheart. Say you regretted it and the person who officiated your wedding promised that not submitting the paperwork meant it never happened. Say you found out ten years later that your "oops, it didn't count" marriage really did count. What then?

      I liked this book because it was thoughtful. The two characters communicated. They made lists, they discussed boundaries. They got to know each other again. It was very sweet. (Provided by publisher)
    • 5/5
      Love at Mistletoe InnCindy KirkBook Summary: They've helped orchestrate the perfect day for countless couples. Now twelve new couples will find themselves in the wedding spotlight in the second Year of Weddings novella collection. Hope Prentiss didn’t go to the Harmony High School senior prom. Instead, she and John Burke drove to Boise and got married. At eighteen. But when Hope panicked after saying “I do,” the mail-order preacher assured her he just wouldn’t send in the paperwork. No forms, no marriage, no problem. Right? Well . . .Now, ten years later, Hope discovers that her prom-night wedding counted—and, as fate would have it, the jilted John Burke has just ridden back into town. And he’s staying with her Aunt Verna at the inn where she and Hope host weddings. Though Hope thinks she wants an annulment, a little time with John makes her think twice . . . and emotions between the more-or-less Mr. and Mrs. Burke reach a boiling point a soon as they get a moment alone. With annulment out the window, Hope finds herself staring in the face of a divorce. But after spending some time with John and helping plan a Christmas wedding for a mystery couple, Hope begins to wonder if she really wants a divorce … or a real wedding of her own.Review: This story was primarily about a couple that eloped during the senior prom and broke up due to the brides fear of poverty. A very real possibility when you are 18 and married. The sweet part was that through being young they thought they were not married. Yet they were. Thus begins the adventure of this story. I liked John a lot. He was a steady and loyal guy who loved Hope despite herself. Hope had a rough childhood of parents fighting over money. While this drove how she worked and saved it, she was not written as a penny pincher. I liked the story line and found it to be an enjoyable read. I did not find it to be a Christmas novella. I found it to be a winter story. There was a lot of snow and fire places since this was Idaho. Vera was the best of the characters and many times a secondary character holds the story together. So altogether this was a pretty enjoyable story.I would like to thank BookLook Blogger and Zondervan for allowing me to read and review this book in return for a free copy and I was never asked to write a favorable review by anyone.

    Book preview

    Love at Mistletoe Inn - Cindy Kirk

    Chapter One

    Although spending an entire Saturday manning a booth at the Boise Bridal Extravaganza might not be most women’s idea of fun, Hope Prentiss was enjoying herself. It helped that Amity Carter had the next booth.

    While Hope was at the October event promoting Harmony Creek, a popular Idaho venue for weddings and receptions, Amity specialized in helping brides plan nontraditional weddings.

    Although both women were in their late twenties and were the best of friends, they couldn’t have been more different. How her friend had chosen to dress for today’s business event was a perfect example of her unorthodox approach. While Hope had picked black pants, a simple white shirt, and pulled her auburn hair back from her face with two silver clips, Amity breezed in looking like a windblown gypsy.

    She had disheveled dark curls tumbling down her back, a boho-chic dress of purple gauzy cotton, and gladiator sandals. Amity’s eyes were the color of exotic spices, and her effective use of makeup made her eyes the focal point of a striking face. Though Hope usually received compliments on her sea-green eyes, next to Amity she felt like a brown wren beside a bright peacock.

    Hope sighed when Amity handed her a cup of cappuccino borrowed from one of the vendors touting their mobile coffee bar.

    I can’t believe we’re friends, Hope murmured, bringing the cup to her lips.

    A sardonic smile lifted Amity’s lips. Love ya too, Chickadee.

    Dragging her chair over to Hope’s booth, Amity settled in with her cup of gourmet hot cocoa. The fashion show was under way in another part of the Boise Centre, which gave the vendors a chance to relax.

    Hope took a long drink and let the caffeine jolt her mind. I meant you’re adorable and so much fun.

    All true. Amity flashed a grin, then blew on the steaming cocoa. Though I prefer mysterious to adorable.

    You’re beautiful and mysterious while I’m average and forgettable. Hope’s lips lifted in a self-deprecating smile.

    Oh, I don’t know, Amity drawled. You have a few redeeming qualities. You’re a nice person. And a most excellent friend.

    I’m not exactly spontaneous.

    Are you referring to the incident last week when you refused to go to a concert with me so you could stay home and watch your pears grow?

    "I needed to pick pears, Hope clarified. Anyway, the cost of the ticket for that show was out of my price range."

    Amity’s eyes twinkled. What range is that?

    You know. Under twenty.

    Amity’s laugh sounded like the tinkling of a hundred mini wedding bells. Darlin’, those prices went out in the last century.

    I believe in being careful with my money.

    A word from the unwise to the wise. Amity took another sip of cocoa. Can’t take it with you.

    Hope lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. Even after all these years, the memories of her parents arguing over money, the worry over almost losing the only home she’d known, remained with her. So she was conservative—being fiscally responsible wasn’t a crime. But she wouldn’t win this argument. Not with spendthrift Amity.

    I brought you something. Hope rummaged around and found the box she’d stashed under the table. Asian pears from my aunt’s orchard.

    These look fabulous. They almost make me forgive you for the concert thing. Her friend snatched the box, mouthed a quick ‘thank you,’ then abruptly narrowed her gaze. Are you still hanging with Chester the molester?

    He’s not a molester and his name is Chet, Hope reminded her friend for the zillionth time.

    Gold nails glimmered as Amity waved a dismissive hand. Some names just seem to conjure up certain words. Hannah . . . banana. Fatty . . . Patty. Dirty . . . Debbie.

    Hey, my mother’s name was Debbie.

    Amity only smirked. Last, but certainly not least, Chester the molester.

    Chester, er, Chet Tuttle, is from one of the most prominent families in Harmony, Hope said, alluding to the small town just outside Boise where they resided. He’d never molest anybody. He’s as upright as they come. The guy has never even had a parking ticket.

    Am I supposed to applaud?

    Hope had to chuckle at her friend’s dry tone before her smile faded. Chet would like for us to be exclusive. But I’m not ready to make that commitment to him.

    Smart girl. Amity nodded. Why tie yourself to Mr. Super Boring?

    Chet isn’t boring. Hope rushed to defend the conservative banker. He’s sensible.

    A.k.a. bo-ring. The response came in a singsong tone.

    Hope lifted her chin. If he is, then I like boring.

    Face it, Chickadee, you wouldn’t know how to handle a red-blooded male. Wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a real man. Before Hope could protest, Amity jumped up as if the seat of her metal chair had suddenly turned red-hot. Yikes! I just remembered I promised Sylvie in the Mad Batter booth I’d drop off a few of my business cards. Since she does nontrad stuff like me, she said she’d hand them out. Back in five.

    Hope had seen Sylvie’s cakes. They were definitely nontrad. The wedding cake displayed in the Mad Batter booth today was a perfect example. The multilayer concoction designed for a Christmas wedding sported red-and-white vertical stripes, black flowers, pearls, and . . . two prettily decorated fondant skulls. The words ’Til death us do part flowed in elegant script across the front.

    While Hope thought the cake was more than a little creepy, Amity had squealed and raved. Hope liked to think she grounded Amity and made her fun-loving friend think twice before she jumped into some new venture.

    As for Amity, well, listening to her friend’s tales of exploits allowed Hope to live vicariously in a world she would never again embrace.

    Ten years ago Hope had ignored common sense and allowed herself to be swept from the safety of the shoreline into rocky waters where she was immediately in over her head.

    Amity was wrong. Even ten years ago, Hope had known what to do when she was confronted with a red-blooded male. She’d . . . married him.

    She’d been eighteen when she and John Burke had skipped their high-school prom and headed to Boise to elope. She couldn’t even console herself that it had been an impulsive, hey, let’s get married tonight kind of thing.

    They’d planned it out, getting a license and finding a minister to marry them. The preacher—and she used that term loosely, as the guy had been ordained online—had been in it for the cash.

    They’d said their vows, exchanged rings, and been pronounced husband and wife. Then the minister, Buddy, had demanded fifty dollars. John had balked, insisting they’d agreed on twenty and he didn’t have the extra thirty.

    A cold chill had traveled down her spine, just as it did now, remembering. Hope had been struck by the enormity of what she’d just done. She’d tied her future to someone who didn’t even have enough money to pay the preacher.

    Hope was embarrassed to recall how she’d fallen apart and cried like a baby, insisting she’d made a mistake and didn’t want to be married. John had tried to comfort and reassure her, but she’d been inconsolable.

    Buddy had taken pity on her. Though he was supposed to file the license within thirty days to make the marriage official, the college-student-turned-minister told her not to worry. He simply wouldn’t send in the forms. It’d be as if the marriage had never taken place.

    She and John returned to Harmony that night. On the ride back, John tried to talk to her, but she shut him out. For the next six weeks he tried repeatedly to breach the wall she’d erected.

    But when John gave up and hopped on his motorcycle the day after graduation to make his fortune, Hope felt as if her best friend had deserted her. Which made no sense at all.

    Botheration! The words came out on a groan.

    Hope blinked back to the present and realized the sound had come from Amity. What’s the matter?

    They’re coming this way, Amity hissed.

    Who?

    Brooke Hauder and her mother. Amity busied herself arranging brochures on her table, as if not making eye contact would cause the two to walk on by. Brooke’s wedding plans are solid but she’s convinced something will go wrong. Crazy high-maintenance.

    The two women were definitely sauntering their direction. The girl was whippet-thin with a pale complexion common to gingers. The mother was short and stout and reminded Hope of a fireplug.

    Amity turned and offered a bright smile as the two stopped in front of her booth. Hey, gals. What brings you here today?

    Hope knew

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