Page 3 of The Holiday Inheritance

On the hood—or bonnet, I should say—is a spare tire with white walls, just like the other four. Along with the tire, there are two long side mirrors that stick up and back toward the driver and passenger-side door.Odd place to put those.

“Hop in, little duck. I’ll get the old lady started.” He pats the bonnet and smiles warmly at it, like it’s a living creature.

The door creaks when I open it, and my anxieties are not eased. But the old thing cranks to life, and hot air almost immediately starts blowing out of its vents. I hop up, eager to get warm again, while Briggs loads up the back of the car. I take the time to look around while he’s occupied, running my fingers over the bumps on the dash and toying with the buttons. The front has bucket seats, but in the back, it has benches against the long outer windows.

No seat belts. Cool.Great.

“It’s really coming down out there,” he says as a blast of cold air enters the cabin before his own creaky door slams shut.

“I hope we can make it back to the house.” I worry my lip as I stare out the windshield.

“Don’t you worry, little duck. I’ll get us back.” The Rover jolts as he throws it in reverse, and my hands fly out to catch purchase on anything near. I’m jittery and tired from the copious amounts of caffeine I’ve been slamming back, and I’m not completely convincedanyof this was a good idea right about now.

He glances at me but otherwise says nothing. “Are you calling me a duck?”

A sexy-as-hell grin peeks out, forcing a dimple in one cheek. “Just a little nickname around here. Likeloveorlass.”

I nod and turn to stare out the window while he navigates the airport parking lot, then the highways. The snow continues to come down, and the roads turn to slush. He’s driving slowly, but I’m still nervous. I don’t like not having a seatbelt.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion hits me, and I have to bite back the tears. It came on so rapidly that I didn’t even register what it was until tears were collecting on my lashes. I’m all alone in a country I’ve only ever visited once. I don’t know a single soul, and it’s Christmas. Why did I decide to go down this road? I could’ve sold the whole thing, taking all the money and living for the rest of my life off the legacy of the great-aunt I never met.

But no. I had to choose the adventurous one. The one that meant I had to move herebeforethe year was up. The one that meant I was going to be alone and depressed on Christmas. And in a snowstorm. What happens if I get snowed in and I can’t get out to get food? I don’t even have a car.

What the fuck am I doing?

Chapter Two

Florence

When we pullup to my new home, I can finally release a stress-filled breath. I’ve been white-knuckling it on the holy-shit handle for the last twenty minutes. The snow is coming down in sheets, blanketing the roads and land around the entire estate. It looks beautiful, like something straight out of a Christmas movie.

The home itself is huge—too big, really. It’s made out of the prettiest bright limestone, covered in ivy all the way up to the roof, and the windows, while skinny and set deep into the stone, give the home the coziest feel. Especially now with the whole place decorated for the holidays. The driveway curves in front of the home and is lined with manicured hedges that are lit up with Christmas lights in the setting sun. Gravel and snow crunch under the tires of the Land Rover as Briggs pulls up to the front door. There’s smoke pouring out of a few of the chimney stacks that reach high into the air from the third story.

“Mary has your room sorted for you,” he says as he puts it in park. “I’ll help you get your bags up there.” I can feel him staring at me as I soak in my new home. It’s daunting, knowing that this whole thing is now mine. The amount of care it takes to runa home like this is no joke. Thank god everyone my aunt hired decided to stay on and help me.

“You alright, my little duck?”

I turn to look at him, a smile forming on my lips at the little nickname he’s given me. I’m probably delusional, but I can’t help it.

“It’s just a lot,” I answer honestly. “It’s a lot of house, a lot of snow, a lot ofnew. I’m a little intimidated.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got all of us to help you out. We loved your aunt, and we wouldn’t let her only surviving family struggle. Trust me, we’ve been running this place for so long we could do it with blindfolds on and our hands tied behind our backs.”

“I think that would make it a little difficult to keep the hedges cut so evenly.”

He graces me with a rough laugh, his eyes crinkling at the sides. I can’t help myself—I allow myself for the first time to glance at his left hand. No ring. Is he single?

“Probably.” He lays his strong, heavy hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Let’s go inside, get you some food, and get settled in for the evening.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turns off the car and jumps out, letting the cold wind sweep through the cabin. It gets me moving, and I jump out to see Briggs handling all of my luggage himself. I don’t even stop to thank him. The snow and wind are so fucking cold that I just let him take over as I run toward the front door.

“I thought I heard that old thing pull up!” Mary yells as she swings the door inward, allowing both of us to practically fall into the warm foyer. Mary is the head housekeeper because yes, this place takes a whole crew to keep running. She’s a little older, maybe in her sixties, and her hair is a shining silver that stays braided back out of her face. When I first met her, I instantly felta connection. Her whole demeanor is soft and welcoming, and she loves this house just as much as everyone has told me my aunt did.

“Hi, Mary!” I wrap my arms around her skinny shoulders, and she holds me tightly. There’s a part of her that knows how big and scary this is for me, and I think it’s going to be comforting to have a mother figure around the house. She doesn’t stay in the home itself; none of the staff do. But there are a few cottages dotted around the property where some of them live, including Mary.

“Don’t let all the hot air out, ladies,” Briggs says as he squeezes past us. “I’m going to take these up to the room Mary got ready for you, and then I’ll head out. Lovely to meet you, Ren.” His eyes linger for just a second too long, just long enough for me to notice.

“You drive safely in this snow, you hear?” Mary goes straight into mothering mode, pulling away from me to give Briggs a hard stare. “And check the generators before you leave?”

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