The Winter Berry House

  About the Author

  CAROLINE FLYNN is a Canadian writer from Northern Ontario. She doesn’t have to imagine what small town life is like – she lives it every day. Caroline loves everything book related, whether it’s reading them or writing them, and she is the dog-mom of an eccentric brindle boxer named Jazz (who makes an appearance in The Forget-Me-Not-Bakery!). Caroline uses her coffee addiction to fuel her writing passion, and she can’t imagine devoting her life to being anything other than an author.

  She loves connecting with readers! You can find her at @flynnromance on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

  Also by Caroline Flynn

  The Forget-Me-Not Bakery

  The Winter Berry House

  CAROLINE FLYNN

  HQ

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2020

  Copyright © Caroline Flynn

  Caroline Flynn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  E-book Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008409036

  Version: 2020-09-18

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  About the Author

  Also by Caroline Flynn

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Kait

  Chapter 2: Branch

  Chapter 3: Kait

  Chapter 4: Branch

  Chapter 5: Kait

  Chapter 6: Branch

  Chapter 7: Kait

  Chapter 8: Branch

  Chapter 9: Kait

  Chapter 10: Branch

  Chapter 11: Kait

  Chapter 12: Branch

  Chapter 13: Kait

  Chapter 14: Branch

  Chapter 15: Kait

  Chapter 16: Branch

  Chapter 17: Kait

  Chapter 18: Branch

  Chapter 19: Kait

  Chapter 20: Branch

  Chapter 21: Kait

  Chapter 22: Branch

  Chapter 23: Kait

  Epilogue: Branch

  Acknowledgements

  Extract

  Dear Reader …

  Keep Reading …

  About the Publisher

  This one’s for you, Erica.

  Chapter 1

  Kait

  ‘Two coffees and a slice of lemon meringue pie to share, please, Kait.’

  ‘So, the usual,’ Kait replied with a grin. She didn’t even bother to write the order down on her notepad, leaving it tucked away in the left side-pocket of her apron. ‘Two forks?’ she asked, though she knew the answer before the question left her mouth.

  ‘You betcha.’ Arnold’s enthusiasm belied his advanced age. His genuine smile did, too.

  ‘Coming right up.’

  Arnold and Jemima Jackson came into the diner – The Port, as it was officially called – every day at two o’clock on the dot without fail, and they ordered the same two coffees and one slice of pie with two forks. Not even the homemade Christmas cake with brown sugar sauce that had been added to today’s dessert menu could sway them from their usual lemon meringue slice. They always stayed until three-thirty, leaving a two-dollar tip on the table under one of the coffee mugs before they left for their daily stroll down the boardwalk to watch the boats come into the harbor, their matching walking canes tapping in perfect synchronicity the whole way.

  And every day that Kait Davenport worked, she watched the elderly couple in whimsical awe as they held each other’s hands, their fingers gnarled and wrinkled with the decades gone by, lost in their own simple, soft-spoken conversation like no one else was in the room. They were both well into their eighties, and she pondered what a love like that must be like.

  ‘They’re at it again,’ Kait whispered to Janna as she rounded the counter and worked on getting the Jacksons’ order together. ‘Making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.’

  Janna, donning an identical lavender uniform and deep purple apron, gave Kait a brief sideways glance, too caught up in her bid to arrange six cups of coffee on a tray and not spill a drop to offer up her full attention. Her mouth curved up at the corners, though, and she shook her head. ‘You’re such a sucker for that kind of thing.’

  ‘I can’t help it if I love the idea of love.’ Kait took the coffee pot from Janna when she offered it. ‘And you’re lucky you’re family or you wouldn’t be getting away with calling me a sucker.’

  That earned her a full-blown eye roll. ‘It’s because I’m your sister that I know exactly why you shouldn’t be such a sucker for love,’ she replied. Plunking a pile of creamer pods in the middle of her well-balanced circle of coffee mugs, Janna heaved the tray up onto the palm of her outstretched hand. ‘We Davenport women will never learn.’

  Kait watched her older sister head back to the table of six she was serving. There was only a three-year difference between them, but Janna may as well have been decades older the way she assumed her motherly role where Kait was concerned instead of acting like the thirty-two-year-old woman she was. Kait didn’t blame her, though. She couldn’t. Becoming a single mom of twins and raising those two babies on the meager income of a small-town diner gig was reason enough for Janna to adopt her overprotective parenting ways. Kait’s romantic track record only added fuel to the fire.

  Living in Port Landon her entire life had its perks. There was always a friendly face to be found no matter where she was, she didn’t have to use her bank card to ‘check in’ at the local bank because every teller there could pull her up in their system by name alone, and she never had to explain their complicated family dynamic, as the community knew very well that she lived with her sister and neither one of them was married.

  Having everyone know their business was a drawback, too, though. Kait had grown up amongst the people who surrounded her, and those same people knew all the things that twenty-nine-year-old Kait would just as soon forget. All the things that her eighteen-year-old self had done, believed, and lost were at the top of that lengthy list. As close-knit as Port Landon was, the town as a collective whole sometimes wasn’t too keen on leaving things buried in the past, intent on the constant reminiscing and recollecting that an aging population was known for. They didn’t forget.

  Neither did Janna, by the sounds of it. Kait didn’t either, but she was at least hopeful, even if bleakly so, that real love did exist. If it could for Arnold and Jemima Jackson, lasting the span of some sixty odd years, then surely she had half a chance at it, too.

  ‘Earth to Kait.’

  Hand suspended above the lemon meringue pie, Kait’s attention snapped back to the here and now. A pair of familiar hazel eyes stared at her, eyebrows arched high on his forehead. She sliced the pie and placed it onto the dessert plate beside it. ‘Creature of habit, aren’t you?’ She said it i
n jest, one corner of her mouth lifting, but Kait had to hold back the defeated sigh she felt pleading to be released from her throat.

  Zach Canton stared at her from over the counter, leaning forward on his elbows. ‘Got to see my girl,’ he quipped. ‘Wouldn’t want you to think I forgot about you.’

  It would be funny if Kait didn’t find it so sad. Or frustratingly repetitive.

  ‘I’m not your girl, Zach,’ she playfully admonished him, setting the knife down before she shook a finger at him. ‘I’m your friend. Just friends, remember?’

  Zach didn’t wilt at the reminder, and his smirk didn’t falter. It never did when they had this conversation, which was almost daily. ‘I know,’ he advised with a wink, holding up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I don’t mean anything by it, you know that. Old habits die hard, I guess.’

  The only thing Kait did know was that it had been years since they’d tried to date. Despite their incompatibility as romantic partners – even after being friends throughout high school before they attempted to take things further – Zach had yet to fully realize that there wouldn’t be a second chance for them as lovers. Kait believed in love, but she also believed that true love couldn’t be forced. She couldn’t fake it, not even for the sake of a man she had been friends with for half her lifetime.

  Besides, she had already experienced love once, the kind that came effortlessly and passionately without conscious decision, and look where that had got her. More than ten years after that fiasco, she was still here in Port Landon, still wishing for a romance that would survive the test of time, and still knowing in her gut that kind of love didn’t come along twice in one lifetime.

  Maybe Janna’s pessimism was starting to rub off on her.

  ‘Sorry,’ she sighed, fully aware she was being a bit more standoffish about Zach’s advances than usual. It had been years since they broke up, and years since he first started visiting her at the diner during her shifts. Today was no different than any other day in their tiny town, so Kait really had no reason to be as on edge than she was. ‘I’m just tired,’ she explained. ‘Janna had the evening shift last night, so I was with the kids till she got home after ten. Who knew twin boys were so exhausting?’ She offered a grin up as she said it, and luckily her friend took the bait.

  ‘No need to apologize,’ he replied. ‘You never need to explain yourself to me, you know that.’

  Now she felt even worse for reprimanding him about his flirting. It was harmless, he was harmless, and he’d been doing it for years. Yet, Zach was right. He never made her explain herself to him, never asked for anything other than her company. Though she knew he would jump at the chance to rekindle their bygone romance, Zach had been a good friend to her over the years. One of her only friends save for Allison, who owned the local coffeehouse, and more recently, Paige, the owner of Port Landon’s very own bakery. Zach had stuck by her since high school, despite everything he’d been through during that tumultuous time. Despite everything Kait had been through. Together, the two of them had that much in common; their senior high school years weren’t ones they liked to reminisce about.

  ‘Let me get this pie and coffee to the Jacksons, then I’ll be back.’ She scooped the plate, forks, and coffee tray up and carried them over to Arnold and Jemima’s booth near the window facing out onto the sidewalk.

  ‘That boy doesn’t miss a beat, does he?’ Arnold blurted as she set the plate down in the middle of the table. The coffee mugs swayed dangerously on the tray, but thankfully Kait managed to maneuver them onto the table before her surprise caused her to spill them. Jemima, never one to comment about other people, swatted her husband’s arm.

  ‘Arnie!’ she hissed over the faint melody of Christmas carols that floated through the diner.

  Unfazed, Arnold nodded his gratitude for the coffee and pie, but he pinned Kait with a knowing stare. ‘Don’t be shushing me, now,’ he replied. ‘Young Kait knows exactly what I’m referring to. That Canton boy’s only got eyes for you.’

  Kait might have known that, even without Arnold’s comment, but a warm blush still crept into her cheeks at having it pointed out. ‘We’re friends, Arnold,’ she choked out. It had been a long time since someone outwardly suggested something more between them. To her face, anyway. ‘Just friends.’

  ‘Ah.’ He nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. ‘And that’s because you still only got eyes for somebody else, huh?’

  ‘Arnold Frederick Jackson!’ Jemima hissed. Reaching out to pat Kait’s arm, the elderly woman gazed up at her with pleading and apologetic eyes. ‘Sorry, Kait, dear, it seems he’s forgotten his manners today.’

  Kait’s throat thickened with embarrassment, but she forced a smile onto her face, placing her own hand over Jemima’s. ‘No need to worry,’ she assured her, giving them both the most nonchalant expression she could muster. Leaning in, she shook a playful finger at Arnold. ‘We’re just friends,’ she whispered with a grin. ‘Now, enjoy your pie.’

  The entire way back behind the counter, one word reverberated through her mind on a constant loop. Still. He hadn’t suggested she merely had eyes for somebody else, Arnold had said she still had eyes for someone else. Still. And there was only one man she’d ever fallen head over heels in love with, and everyone knew it. Even Arnold Jackson.

  Damn you, Branch, she screamed in her mind. You’re still making a fool of me after all these years. Not only a fool, but also an unwilling believer in things she didn’t want to believe in at all. There was a man sitting before her right now, ready and able to love her with every fiber of his being, yet Kait couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it. Because she didn’t love him the same way. Because she believed there were a lot of things in life that were ordinary, and love wasn’t supposed to be one of them. Love, she believed, was meant to be consuming and wild and passionate, and she believed it for one reason and one reason only.

  Because she had experienced it with Branch Sterling. Even as teenagers, they had known their love was different, somehow. There wasn’t a thing mediocre about it.

  And he’d still betrayed her and broken her heart.

  Damn you, Branch, she thought again.

  ‘Something wrong?’ Zach’s voice cut through her searing thoughts. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  Interesting choice of words, considering it felt like the ghost of her first love was never far from her. Most of the time, folks around Port Landon were too polite to mention his name to her face, but Kait still heard the sporadic tidbits of information about him that drifted through the town. After his grandmother, a long-time and well-loved resident of the small town, passed away last year, there had been a landslide of mentions regarding him, speculation about the fact that he never returned for more than a few days at a time, and when he was there no one seemed to know about it until he was already gone. Branch knew how to stay under the radar, which was saying something seeing as there was no greater force to be reckoned with than the nosy neighbors and other members of a small, close-knit community.

  ‘I’m fine,’ was all Kait could manage. ‘You want a coffee or something? I can get you a menu.’ Coming there daily, there was no way Zach required one, and he could probably recite the list of dishes offered by heart, but Kait needed to say something to get beyond the meddling memories that were catapulting around in her brain.

  Zach, however, furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Is this about Branch?’

  ‘Is everyone thinking of Branch freaking Sterling today?’ Kait snarled, throwing down the bar towel she had just picked up.

  ‘Sorry.’ Her friend’s hands shot up in surrender, fingertips pointed toward the ceiling. ‘I just thought … that haunted look on your face …’ He cleared his throat, softening the edge in his voice. ‘I figured it must be because of him.’

  Immediately, Kait despised the fact that he was right, that it was that obvious, and that she was that predictable. It took a lot to get on the bad side of Kait Davenport, who was known for being a happy-go-lucky, spiri
ted woman. But only one person had ever managed to hurt her so irrevocably that the simple mention of his name could incite feelings of turmoil and rage. And that person was the man she had loved passionately and wildly at the tender age of eighteen … Branch Sterling.

  ‘Arnold brought him up,’ she replied quietly, pouring Zach a coffee he hadn’t asked for, purely so her hands were busy doing something, anything. ‘Well, kind of.’

  Zach simply nodded as she slid the coffee mug toward him. ‘Everyone seems to be talking about him lately.’ He reached for the sugar dispenser. ‘The guy didn’t even stick around after Addie’s funeral, yet he has the audacity to think he’ll be welcomed here now, after all these years?’

  Mouth gaping, Kait struggled to take in an adequate breath of air. ‘Wait, what?’

  Zach went still, hand suspended just above his mug. ‘Branch,’ he said, suddenly looking unsure of himself. ‘You said that’s who Arnold and Jemima were talking about, right?’

  Kait waved a hand dismissively. This was no time to discuss the not-so-misguided conversations of a couple in their eighties. ‘Zach, forget them. What are you talking about?’

  He stared at her for a beat too long, but there was no way to get out of the uncomfortable exchange without divulging what he knew. ‘Kait, Branch is back,’ he explained calmly. ‘And if the rumors are true, he might be around for a while.’

  Chapter 2

  Branch

  Hometowns were supposed to be where it all began, where folks got their start in life, survived their adolescence and grew into the people they were meant to become.

  For Branch Sterling, Port Landon was the beginning of the end. Nothing in this town had been his for his entire life, yet the memories he had of it were the ones that had shaped him into the man he was. The good and the bad.

  He pulled the rented Ford Escape into the familiar paved double driveway he used to spend summers practicing his basketball skills on. Okay, more like his lack of skills, but he loved the game, nonetheless. His grandparents had even surprised him with not one, but two, portable basketball nets so he and his friends could turn that big ol’ driveway into a full-fledged court.