Southern snow a sugartre.., p.1
Southern Snow: A Sugartree Winter Romance, page 1
SOUTHERN SNOW
A SUGARTREE WINTER ROMANCE
B R GOODWIN
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious.
SOUTHERN SNOW: A SUGARTREE WINTER ROMANCE
Copyright © 2023 B.R. Goodwin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphics, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Scripture quotations are from the ESV Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)
Exterior Artwork Credit: @kleahbooks
Independently Published: GOODFERN
ISBN: 9798858523888
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
Note to Readers
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
1. With Bells On
2. Carol of the Bells
3. What Christmas Means to Me
4. Deck the Halls
5. Rocking Around the Christmas Tree
6. I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas
7. O’ Come, O’ Come Emmanuel
8. All I Want for Christmas
9. The Chipmunk Song
10. Holly Jolly Christmas
11. The First Noel
12. How Many Kings
13. Is He Worthy?
14. What Are You Doing New Years’ Eve
15. Joy to the World
16. Christmas TV
17. Mary Did You Know
18. Tracks in the Snow
19. Go Tell it on the Mountain
20. O Holy Night
Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
THE END
Acknowledgments
About the Author
This one is for my brothers.
I’m so thankful for childhood memories full of laughter, teasing, adventures,
and Christmas PJs.
And most thankful for your friendship now.
I love you both.
NOTE TO READERS
Each chapter is attached to a song for an ultimate, all-inclusive, Christmas playlist.
Christmas classics, favorites from my childhood, and my favorites now.
I hope they add a little extra fun to this time of year and as you read through these pages.
MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS
N’SYNC
THEN
“You better get your sparklin’ be-hind down those stairs, young lady. You’re ‘bout to be late for your own shindig!” Georgia’s mother hollered from the bottom step of their family home.
“I'm comin’, Mama!” Georgia took one last look in the mirror. She rarely took the time to tame her vivacious, blonde curls or to apply an ounce of makeup, let alone an entire face full. But tonight… tonight would be special.
She let her curls fall down over her shoulders with a simple clip holding up one side, providing a small peek of the silver snowflake earrings she wore. She finished the look with a light pink gloss across puckered lips—one she thought made her natural cheek color appear a little more rosy—and smoothed slightly shaking hands down her satin dress. The silver material shimmered in the bathroom lights and reminded Georgia of frost sitting atop an icy lake. Not that she’d seen many of those since her family settled in the South.
“Deep breaths, Georgia,” she muttered to herself, “it’s only one dance.”
She knew she was lying to herself though. She’d never been so nervous, and she’d never tried to temper her expectations as much as she was at that moment. She’d spent so much time preparing, planning, and decorating for this charity dance. And, if she were honest with herself, the event had become about so much more.
Her sister’s reflection stepped into the bathroom mirror behind her, dressed in a floor length, emerald gown that made her green eyes all the more stunning. “You look beautiful, Georgie. Are you excited?” She admired Georgia’s reflection, jaw dropping, as she took in her sister from head to toe.
“Thanks. I’m… Yeah… I am excited. You look really pretty too, Caroline.”
Caroline squealed lightly, “EEEEkkkk! My first high school dance. I’m so, so, soooo ready!!” She took a step closer. “You, on the other hand, are… kinda twitchy.”
Georgia dropped her hands, not realizing she’d been fiddling her fingers together. Caroline held Georgia’s hand lightly. “Are you worried about something? You got a hot date meeting you there?”
Georgia rolled her eyes, trying not to be annoyed with her younger sister’s prying and her surprising intuitiveness. She pulled her hand away and put an arm around Caroline reassuringly. “Me? A date? Of course I don’t. Let's get downstairs before Mama sends up the troops.”
They bounced down the stairs together. Georgia stopped only to slip on a pair of silver wedges and grabbed her matching clutch from the kitchen counter. After another quick catwalk for their younger siblings and assuring their parents they’d be home by curfew, Georgia stepped into the unseasonably warm December evening with her sister at her side, anxiously ready for all the possibilities.
WITH BELLS ON
KENNY ROGERS & DOLLY PARTON
NOW
It wasn’t uncommon for neighbors to know one another well in a small, Southern town like Sugartree. Where folks greeted each other at the grocery store as old friends, and sayings like I’ll put it on your tab and you’re a sight for sore eyes were commonplace in day-to-day comings and goings. Georgia Snow Remillard couldn’t remember a day when a friendly, familiar face hadn’t walked through the door of Good Start Coffee, ordered their regular, and held up the line for a neighborly chat.
How are your mama and daddy? You got yourself a boyfriend yet? and What are your brother and sisters up to nowadays? were usually in the line-up of well-meant questions from patrons waiting on their morning coffee. To which Georgia always replied in kind, “Oh, they’re peachy! … Y’all know I don’t have time for a boyfriend.” And, “They’re living their dreams. We’re so very proud.”
Georgia loved the eccentric nuances of the tiny town where she’d been born, although her parents hadn’t stayed in Sugartree too long after her birth. The Air Force moved the Remillard family from Georgia to South Carolina, and then on to North Dakota, followed by a final move to Virginia. They’d embraced nomadic military life until Georgia’s dad decided to retire—to lay down roots—and her parents remembered those same little idiosyncrasies they’d found so charming about Sugartree, GA and decided to plant the family there permanently.
At the time, Georgia had been a sophomore in high school. When many would have stumbled and even floundered entering a new school in the middle of their formative years, Georgia blossomed. She’d dove into life in the small town. Making friends, joining clubs, getting involved with a local church, seamlessly adopting Sugartree as home. But she’d eventually left for college and, after graduating, settled into life in a big city.
Initially, adjusting to all-things Atlanta had been harder for Georgia than the other places she’d called home in her youth. She missed the close proximity to her family and friends, but eventually managed to carve a little life for herself there. She loved her job and the coffee shop halfway between work and her apartment, although the scones were nowhere near as tasty as her mama’s. She enjoyed the bustle and faster pace of city living, a far cry from that of Sugartree, and was just beginning to fully embrace the city and her independence. But it was an easy decision to come home to Sugartree when her family needed her most.
She would never forget the moment she received the call that the strong, stalwart, indestructible Colonel Remillard, her daddy, had suffered a significant heart attack. She’d been frozen in fear. Afraid of what it would mean if their family lost him. She had walked the long, stark halls of the hospital for a restless few days, reassuring her mother and siblings that he’d be okay and praying desperately that she was right. When, thankfully, he’d miraculously survived, Georgia’s mama had only to say, “Georgia, we need your help.”
Georgia had packed her small apartment in the city, quit her job with a corporate marketing firm, and moved home to Sugartree. She’d settled into the studio above her parents’ coffee shop, Good Start Coffee, effectively taking over the place while her dad recovered and her Mom nursed him back to good health.
And there she’d remained.
For the three years she’d been back in Sugartree, Georgia answered those same questions. Smiled the same smiles. And greeted, served, and poured coffee for the familiar friendly faces. Day in and day out. Taking care of her parents’ shop and supporting her family the best way she knew how.
On a particularly balmy morning in November—Black Friday to be exact—Georgia woke before the sun and stared at the ceiling with bleary eyes from atop her mismatched bed linens. She’d thrown her half of the covers aside, sweaty and restless in anticipation of what was always a crazed day.
Committed shoppers inevitably stopped by in the early hours at Good Start, before breaking down the proverbial, and sometimes physical, doors of the neighboring shops for a hit of caffeine and a freshly made scone. Even now, the scent of warmed cinnamon and sugar wafted through the wooden floors of her loft from the coffee shop below. Which meant her parents had been there for some time baking seasonal favorites, and that Geor
Georgia nudged her little sister’s starfished body away, her sweaty skin sticking momentarily. “Ginny, are ya gonna come down with me this morning?”
Ginny’s body lay dormant, barely registering the nudge.
“Ginny,” Georgia tried again, pulling her sister’s half of the covers off completely. “You’re gonna miss Mama’s scones. I’m not saving you any… VIRGINIA!”
Ginny groaned slightly, made a snow angel in the sheets, and turned her head full of tangled curly locks in the opposite direction, revealing an embarrassingly impressive drool spot where her mouth had been.
Giving up, Georgia did what any older sister would do. She snapped a quick picture of the sleeping beauty’s wide open mouth—like a catfish waiting to be caught—jumbled the sheets into a ball, then threw them onto her sister in a tousled lump before quickly readying herself for the day.
Her simple, gray Good Start Coffee t-shirt and jeans made fashion choices stress-free on days she opened the store, and her unruly, curly blonde hair, so similar to Ginny’s wild mane, was pulled into a messy bun.
Georgia clambered down the wooden stairs leading from her loft to the store’s kitchen, finding her parents wrapped in a hug that looked more like a dance as they swayed to a music only their ears could hear. She hung back for a moment, embracing the sight that could have so easily been taken if things had gone differently three years before. If her father hadn’t survived the heart attack.
“We know you’re there, Georgia Snow. Your heel walkin’ could wake the dead,” her mother called out, still wrapped in her father’s arms.
Joan Remillard had always called her eldest daughter by her first and middle name. Georgia had been born in the middle of a rare Southern snowfall in early February. Her parents found it fitting—much to Georgia’s chagrin in her teen years—to name her not only after the state she’d been born in but also in honor of the weather pattern gracing the day of her birth. Quirky but sweet, in adulthood Georgia tried to embrace the name she’d been given.
Georgia rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist the smile that stretched across her face. She took the last step down into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around them both, crushing her mother between them.
“Good morning, y’all. It smells amazing down here.”
“Mornin’ Georgia,” her father said as he pulled his wife and daughter tighter to him. “We better get all the squeezes in now. Your brother and sister are fixin’ to be here any minute. Ginny still sleepin’?”
“Not even my heel-walkin’ could get her moving… A herd of elephants couldn’t wake that girl. She’s comatose.”
Her mom giggled. “You get proof?”
“Of course!” Georgia squeezed tighter then released them when she heard the jangle of keys in the front door and the sounds of her siblings’ gentle arguing filled the previously peaceful space.
“Your breath is rank, by the way,” Caroline hissed.
Dakota deadpanned back in a not-so-silent whisper they all could hear, “Mmmm. How I’ve missed you, sweet Caroline.”
“Y’all hush up and come in here for some breakfast before we open up,” their mother chided with a grin across her face. She pulled away from Georgia and her husband to greet her other kids with open arms.
Caroline pushed through the kitchen’s swinging door first, her rich, wavy brown hair tucked neatly behind her ears and a smile on her face—never truly ill-affected by their younger brother. “Good morning,” she chimed as she skipped to their mama, hugging her tight.
“Mornin’, honey.” Their mama squeezed Caroline before releasing her daughter to cuddle up to the Colonel.
She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Hey, Daddy.”
He tucked her under his chin. “Mornin’, Carolina. You sure are chipper today.”
“Always a good day when it starts with a fight over the bathroom with your baby brother.”
Dakota sneered. “Always a good morning when you take over the bathroom for hours to primp.”
“I don’t primp.” She poked him in the stomach, and Dakota tried to worm away. “And you shouldn’t wait until the last minute to wake up.”
It had always been like this with Dakota and Caroline who were only fifteen months apart and complete opposites. Caroline looked impossibly tiny standing between the hulking figures of their dad and Dakota, but she always managed to put Dakota in his place. She spit her tongue out at him, a less than mature approach than her usual, and he responded by lightly pulling her hair.
“Alright, alright. That’s about enough of that, children.” The Colonel laughed and nudged Dakota. “Go give your mama some love and quit pickin’ at your sister.”
“Tell me those are cinnamon scones I smell?” Dakota wrapped his mother in a bearhug, lifting her much smaller frame off the ground. “You look beautiful today, Mama.”
“And how do I look, son? Am I just as radiant as I was after eating that turkey dinner last night?” Their dad rubbed his belly and wiggled his eyebrows playfully.
“Colonel,” Dakota saddled up close to their dad again, placing his hands on both his shoulders seriously, “you’ve never looked better.” With his hands still in place, he turned his head back to their mom with a mischievous grin. “But, seriously. Cinnamon scones?”
“Now, what kinda mama would I be if I didn’t make my baby’s favorite scone when he comes home from school once in a blue moon? A special occasion deserves a special breakfast.”
“Gee, Mom. Thanks,” Caroline pouted and pushed Dakota out of the way to hug Georgia. “But this baby actually likes almond scones. No big deal, though.”
Georgia fought a grin. Everyone knew that although Dakota was like their dad in nearly every way, he was a giant mama’s boy. A fact they all loved to tease him about, and one that drove his sisters a little crazy.
“I have it on good authority, young lady, ” she said, pinching Caroline’s arm gently, “That almond scones are on the menu for Monday morning.”
Georgia’s mom winked slyly at her, and Georgia made a mental note to add almond scone ingredients to her shopping list for the weekend. “Okay, well, this baby has to open up the shop. Are y'all staying or what? I don’t know if Ginny will ever make it down today.”
She wiggled through them all to pick up a scone from the small plate set aside for the family and took a hasty, flavor-filled bite. Her mom placed an already prepared cup of tea in her hands, a shorthand they’d developed over the years working together, and she took a quick sip to wash it down. “Thanks, Mama. These are perfect.”
“You’re welcome.” Then pointing to Dakota and Caroline, “These two are on the clock all day for you. I gave the other employees the day off to be with their families for the holiday. And I told Ginny if she was gonna spend the night here, she’d have to get up and work. I’ll get her down here right away.”
Caroline and Dakota flashed cheesy smiles at Georgia, with promises of sibling tomfoolery in her future, and the mutual understanding that they wouldn’t see their youngest sister—the true baby of the family—downstairs until at least noon.
The Colonel threw a red and a navy Good Start t-shirt at Caroline and Dakota both in quick succession, hitting them square in their faces. “Alright, y’all, you heard your mama. Help Georgia and be real good today. She’s the boss. It’s always a hectic day, but she can handle it. You all can. Mama and I will stick around to help take orders and greet customers, too.”
