Magic of Winter by Martina Boone

Author:Martina Boone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: memories, scotland, historical romance, magical realism, traditions, fathers and daughters, romance magic, hogmanay, second chance love, romance abroad
Publisher: Mayfair Publishing

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“But the bravest man amongst us

is afraid of himself.”

Oscar Wilde

The Picture of Dorian Gray

The celebration of Christmas had only come to the Highlands recently, or rather, the public celebration of it had returned only in 1958. Whereas the abolition of Christian feast days in the rest of Britain had been long since repealed, in Scotland the kirk had continued to frown on any observances that went back to Roman Catholic traditions. Ironically, here in the glen and in pockets of other out-of-the-way places, even older celebrations had remained in place. In Balwhither, the winter solstice and the approach of Christmas still marked the cutting and lighting of the Yule tree in the courtyard of the Inn, with candles of hope for the return of the long, prosperous days and the remembrance of beloved friends and family lost, and a ball of mistletoe was cut from each year from oaks on the hillside to symbolize the promise of new life after the long months of winter.

The occasion made Cait think of her mother again, for many reasons, as she parked the car and walked alone in the darkness toward the Inn. The courtyard blazed with light, and already voices were raised in song, though not yet the Christmas carols that would be led later by the members of Cait’s old choir. These were rowdier drinking songs that went so well with the Highland coffees, spiced wine, warm grog, and hot Scotch toddies the Inn staff were passing around to the crowd gathered around the burning fire pots. Flames flickered gold over familiar faces, many of them people whom Cait hadn’t seen since her mother’s funeral.

Nerves slicked her palms with moisture and made her cold despite the layers in which she’d bundled herself before she’d left the house.

Still, it was better to get it over with. Like ripping a bandage off.

Smiling, she flicked the latch on the gate and went in, hoping most of the revelers would be too caught up in the occasion to notice her.

Elspeth Murray saw her straight away. Splitting away from a group that included her American niece Emma who’d come to the glen and married Connal MacGregor of Inverlochlarig House down at the end of the long glen road, Elspeth hurried toward Cait and pushed her arm through Cait’s elbow to draw her forward. “There you are,” she said. “I was so hoping you would come. Hoped you could talk your father into coming as well, but I suppose we can’t have everything. Not yet anyway.” Leaning closer, she added in Cait’s ear, “Now don’t you go letting yourself get nervous. Or caught up in sadness. This is a night for celebration. Everyone here will be remembering the last time they saw you, too, and they’ve already heard what Donald’s done. No one blames you for his decisions.”

Cait let herself be pulled deeper into the courtyard, returning the smiles and hugs and hands held out to greet her. Vision blurring just a little, she swallowed hard and

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