From Here To Bethlehem by Kathryn Guare

Author:Kathryn Guare [Guare, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kiltumper Close Press
Published: 2014-12-21T23:00:00+00:00

Kate swung through the kitchen door and dramatically collapsed onto a stool. Her rosy-cheeked chef raised her eyes from the pile of silverware she’d been sorting and pushed a strand of graying chestnut-colored hair from her forehead.

“Please tell me it’s over.”

Ordinarily a voluble presence in the inn’s kitchen, Abigail’s subdued voice gave clear evidence of her exhaustion. She’d had help throughout the evening from her husband Dominic and the inn’s part-time staff, but when it came to cleaning her kitchen, she preferred to work alone. No one could meet her exacting standards.

“It’s officially confirmed.” Kate smiled in sympathy with her plaintive expression. “God, what a night. I thought the last two would never go to bed.”

“Let me guess—the two nitwits who kept swarming around Conor all night.”

“The very same. He finally shut them off, and they still hung around the bar for another hour, drinking diet Coke. I couldn’t take it anymore. I went to my office and when I came out everyone was gone. I wonder if he went upstairs.”

“Nope.” Abigail threw a bundle of forks into the silverware drawer. “He and Dom are out sanding the driveway again. I think he’s hoping everyone will want to get an early start tomorrow.”

“He’s not the only one.” Kate dragged herself off the stool to empty the dishwasher, and a minute later heard the scrape of boots at the kitchen door.

Conor stamped in on a gust of freezing wind, smelling of damp wool and ice. His head was dusted with snow and his nose red with cold. Kate was surprised to see he was bristling with energy, seemingly intoxicated by fresh air.

“It’s gorgeous out there!” He whipped the scarf from around his neck and shook the snow from his hair, leaving it damp and glistening. “The storm stopped a few minutes ago. All the branches are coated in frost, but the sky’s clear and everything’s gone blue in the starlight. It’s brilliant. Literally. Like a bloody Christmas card.”

Abigail, who in fairness had seen her share of dazzling winter scenes, appeared unimpressed as she watched him peel off the soggy outer layers of his clothes. “You’re the one coated in frost,” she complained. “You’d better get a hot drink inside you before you take a chill. Where’s Dom?”

“Out warming the car for you,” Conor said. “Get out of here, Abigail. You look solid knackered, and you’ll be back in a few hours cooking up hangover breakfasts for this shower of inebriates.”

“He’s right,” Kate chimed in. “Please go home and get some sleep. You can at least trust us to put the dishes away.”

After a period of token resistance Abigail relented, but continued grumbling complaints and instructions as she pulled on her boots and an enormous quilted puffer coat. When they were finally alone in the kitchen, Conor turned in a slow circle, gazing at the counters loaded with rows of recently washed glasses, flatware and dishes, and looked at Kate.

“Feck it. Let’s do it in the morning. Want to take a little walk?”

She laughed.

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