Christmas Nights at the Star and Lantern: An uplifting, festive romance from Helen Rolfe

1

Celeste drove back to Heritage Cove after making her delivery to the local school, and as she approached the bend in the road, she glanced over at the Copper Plough on the corner. Her heart sank. The pub was as much a part of the Cove as every business on the high street – but it was heading for a change and not one the locals were confident in. Any day now, its name would change and the people of Heritage Cove could only keep their fingers crossed that a new name wouldn’t be the start of alterations that left their local pub unrecognisable.

She was about to continue around the bend, windscreen wipers swiping back and forth to disperse the November drizzle, when a man outside the pub caught her eye. It was only for a split second – any more than that and she would’ve careered into a car coming the other way – but it was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

She laughed at herself. Don’t be ridiculous. She shook her head as she drove along The Street and pulled up behind the Twist and Turn Bakery, the business she owned and ran with her sister Jade. Whoever that man was, it couldn’t possibly be Quinn McLeod, the guy who’d visited here once upon a time a few summers ago and who she hadn’t heard from since. But the man’s build and the way he held himself were a sure reminder of Quinn and stirred something deep within her.

She grabbed the empty plastic containers from the boot of the car and made a run for it to the back of the bakery before she got soaked now the cold rain had started to come down even harder. And as she went into the warmth of the bakery’s kitchen and put everything away, she allowed herself to reflect on a man who’d very much stolen her heart. Something that was never meant to happen.

The day they’d met, it was slow in the bakery. But slow days gave Celeste the chance to do what she usually did so well, creating different recipes to add new products to the shelves so their customers had even more choice. That day, she’d wanted to perfect a salted-caramel turnover and get it onto their menu. But one taste of her latest effort and she’d deemed the pastry too dry, the apple filling not cooked enough and the caramel sauce she’d tried to drizzle across it was too thick. It was her third failed attempt.

In the kitchen out the back of the bakery, she picked up one of the three turnovers she’d made and took another bite to try to really get a handle on what she needed to adjust for next time. But the pastry in her hand angered her, she hated to get it wrong, she hated wasted time and she didn’t even think about it when she threw the turnover as hard as she could at the far wall with a curse she hoped hadn’t carried into the main area of the bakery.

The problem was, Celeste had never been a very good aim. She’d been asked not to play darts at the pub unless it was under supervision and for good reason. Terry and Nola, the owners of the Copper Plough, had punters to protect. And when she heard a yelp from the bakery and saw Jade’s face behind the counter, she knew she’d taken out one of their own customers.

She swore under her breath and went out to face the music and apologise.

What she didn’t expect was to lock eyes with a drop-dead gorgeous guy not too dissimilar to her in age, tall and well-built with a crew cut. And she really didn’t expect him to take her hand when she reached up to pull a piece of puff pastry from his hair either.

‘Some might call this a classic meet-cute.’ His mellifluous tone and enticing indigo eyes rendered her incapable of looking away as he pulled the offending piece of pastry from his hair without her help. ‘I’m Quinn. Quinn McLeod.’

Celeste was a businesswoman, she had goals, aspirations, she didn’t have time to fall for anyone. And yet standing here in front of this handsome stranger, she knew she was in trouble.

‘Or perhaps it’s fate,’ he suggested when she didn’t say anything.

She shook herself out of her trance. ‘I apologise, I’m very sorry. Can I interest you in something on the house?’

‘You most definitely can.’ But his look suggested he wanted something that wasn’t necessarily behind the glass-fronted cabinet or tucked on one of the shelves. ‘Does it really taste so bad you had to throw it?’ He looked at the pastry in his free hand, turning it over for better inspection.

She pulled her hand away from his slowly and took the pastry. ‘To me, yes. It’s not what I want to be serving my customers, put it that way.’

‘And what do you like to give your customers?’

How could one person have this much effect on her? Usually calm and collected, professional to a tee, she found it hard to form a coherent sentence. ‘My sister Jade will help you; I’d better get a dustpan and brush for the crumbs.’ And she fled before either he or Jade had a choice in the matter.

She’d expected him to have chosen something and left but he was still there when she peered out into the bakery a few minutes later. And by the way he smiled back at her, he was waiting for her.

‘Did you find something?’ she asked in her best nonchalant voice as she emerged from her hiding place. Jade passed the other way and went out back, leaving her sister behind the counter this time.

‘I did.’ He held up a small bag. ‘I’ve got the tastiest-looking doughnut in here, so thank you.’

‘It’s our pleasure.’ And it was very much hers.

‘I was hoping for something else.’

When he spoke with a cheekiness both in his voice and his expression, it made her want to laugh, but as a distraction she picked up the cloth and wiped down the counter.

He leaned closer in her direction, over the top of the till. ‘You didn’t tell me your name.’

‘Do I need to?’

‘Well, I usually like to know the name of the woman I’m going on a date with.’

Now that did make her laugh. ‘You’re confident. And nice try.’

‘You’re right. That was pretty lame. But give a guy a break.’

‘All right. I’m Celeste.’

‘That’s a pretty name.’

‘Thank you.’

‘So Celeste, what time do you get out of here?’

‘Late. I’m part owner so…’

‘Brains as well as beauty.’ He nodded, impressed. But his expression changed as he realised how he must sound. ‘I’m not doing very well at this, am I? You can tell I spend most of my days at sea away from civilisation.’

‘Kind of,’ she teased. ‘So, you’re on leave?’

‘I am, from the navy. I’m only here for a few days so I’m trying to make the most of it.’

Jade came through with a couple of poppy seed wholemeal loaves and pushed them onto the shelves behind the counter. ‘She’s off at six,’ she said without preamble.

Celeste was about to argue that she could arrange her own love life, thank you very much, when Quinn saw his chance to stop her protest. He knocked once on the countertop in appreciation, thanked Jade, and left the bakery, calling over his shoulder, ‘See you then.’

‘What were you thinking?’ she said to her sister the moment it was just the two of them again.

‘I’m thinking you are both gooey eyed looking at each other and either you waste another half an hour debating whether to go out with him or you just go for it, arrange a time, and you can get out back and continue with your recipes. I know which is more useful for our business.’

Celeste grinned. And back in the kitchen, she perfected the turnover recipe on the next attempt.

They had dinner that evening down the coast, well away from the village and prying eyes, and in the days after that, whenever Celeste could get away from the bakery, they spent their time cocooned in each other’s company, either at her cottage or walking along quiet stretches of beach. They’d both known exactly what it was, too: a holiday fling. They’d agreed from the first night that they wanted a no-strings-attached arrangement. It suited both of them – Celeste had the bakery, to which she gave her all and didn’t want anything to distract her from, and she’d also learned a long time ago not to get attached because if you did, it came with a whole heap of hurt. And Quinn had the navy so he wouldn’t be around for long. Before they knew it, he’d be back at sea, and so not making each other promises had been best all round.

At least that’s what Celeste had thought. But when it came to the few hours before Quinn was due to leave Heritage Cove and go back to his own life, her emotions were all over the place.

‘I can’t believe you’re leaving later today.’ Curled up against him, she said it before she remembered what they’d agreed at dinner the very first night.

‘Back to work for me soon, and at least you can get back to your bakery.’ He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open and she took the opportunity to watch the way his lashes cast shadows below his eyes, the rise and fall of his broad chest.

‘Hey, I’ve not left it.’

‘Your sister has been doing the lion’s share.’ He opened one eye to tease her.

She smiled back at him. ‘She’s been really good to me.’

‘Thank her on my behalf, won’t you?’

‘I will.’ Although the pair had met, Celeste had done her very best to keep Quinn to herself since then, although there had been the odd awkward moment on the landing in the middle of the night. Not that Jade minded; she’d been all for it, probably glad her sister had a bit of a love life at long last.

‘Back to our own lives before we know it,’ Quinn sighed, satiated, his eyes heavy.

She crawled up the bed closer to him, their bodies pressed together beneath the sheets, and kissed him. ‘Back to our own lives,’ she repeated.

She settled down next to him again, her cheek resting against his chest, her fingers laced through his. ‘You’ll be off seeing more of the world soon.’

‘Something like that, yeah. Not as glamorous as it sounds.’

‘But it must have been part of the attraction.’

‘It definitely was,’ he murmured sleepily. ‘You think you’ll go travelling again some day?’

‘Not sure. We did Europe at the right time.’ She’d already told him all about her and Jade’s trip around Europe: the places they’d been to, what they’d seen, what they’d experienced before they came back to England to run the bakery business they’d bought and left in the capable hands of the previous owner for a while so locals didn’t have to face any period of closure.

‘You could always take off again.’

‘I’m not sure you understand what being a business owner means.’ She laughed as they talked more about her bakery: what foods had been inspired from their travels, the seasons that brought various changes to her menu. ‘I love it, Quinn.’

‘I can tell.’ He kissed her softly on the temple, barely a graze but enough to make her close her eyes and embrace it.

She told him how their Irish grandmother had looked after them every day after school and for something to occupy their hands and minds, they’d spent their time baking. ‘We used to talk about having a cake shop, but that’s really Jade’s area of expertise so she deals with the made-to-order cake side of the business and it runs alongside the bakery.’ Their hands were still entwined. ‘It works for the both of us. It’s very different to law too.’

He sat up in bed then and she clutched the sheets around her top half, embarrassed at being exposed without warning. ‘You were a lawyer? How has it been three days and I never knew this?’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know, Quinn,’ she grinned. ‘I was happy for a while as a lawyer in London. I’m glad I did it, I worked hard, but it wasn’t too long before I realised deep down that I had a different dream. We both did, Jade and me. And so we followed it.’

‘I can’t imagine you in a suit as a lawyer.’ He quirked an eyebrow and pulled her down next to him again. ‘Although part of me wants to. Maybe in a short skirt, with heels.’

‘I rarely wear heels these days.’

‘Shame.’ He trailed kisses up her jawline, the promise of more.

She basked in his attention. She wanted this moment to last forever.

‘Any regrets at leaving it behind?’

‘The job or the city?’

‘Both.’

‘Never. It feels as though I was always meant to have my own business, to spend my days baking. And at least I was used to working long hours. Those were a prerequisite of being a lawyer.’ Her fingers caressed his chest, traced the skin up to the base of his neck, his chin, his jaw. ‘What about you? Ever think of getting out of the navy?’

Lazily, he answered, ‘When the time is right, I will.’

‘That’s a bit evasive.’

‘I don’t mean it to be. I love it, it’s what I always wanted to do. But I also always said that if I felt the time was right then I’d leave, put down some roots, have more of a sense of family.’

The smile he couldn’t see faded at the word family.

Because it was a reminder of Julian. The one and only serious relationship she’d had and it had ended up almost breaking her. To be so attached, content, and then to have it all fall apart around her produced a pain she had no control over and didn’t ever want to have to go through again.

Celeste and Julian had met at work, hit it off straight away, and with them both in the same job, they had a strong connection, a way of understanding each other. But when they’d been together six months, enjoying their lives without much thought about the future, it had come to the fore that they might not want the same things long term.

The day had started off innocently enough. It was a normal morning in the office and they’d all gathered to give well wishes to Cate, a colleague about to embark on maternity leave. On the way back to their desks, Julian had made an offhand remark about Cate having to make a choice now between her career and her expanding family. ‘Four kids is a lot,’ he’d said and Celeste hadn’t disagreed. What she had disagreed with was when he pondered the idea of how many they’d have themselves when the time came. When Celeste had said to Julian, ‘I don’t want to have kids; I don’t really see them in my future,’ he’d replied with, ‘You might not now, but you’ll change, you’ll see.’

It would’ve been easy to assume Julian had forgotten all about their exchange but over the next month, there were hints left, right and centre. And it had broken her heart that she was letting him down so badly, that perhaps he’d thought she really would come around to the idea. In the end, it had been Celeste who ended the relationship because to Julian, the future had kids in it and to Celeste, it didn’t. She wasn’t being awkward, she was happy for others who did want that, but she wasn’t one of them. And she’d known it was better to be honest from the start.

She’d heard a year later that he’d got married and already had a baby on the way. Celeste had cried that day because she’d been in love with him. And it didn’t matter that it had been better to break up when they did. The pain still gnawed at her and ever since, she’d only gone for flings; she’d never let herself get as close to anyone again. If she did, she knew it would likely come with a whole lot of pain in the end.

She sat up in bed next to Quinn. ‘I should get in the shower.’

He murmured an agreement, almost asleep now.

How had she let this happen? She’d fallen, or more like tumbled, head over heels and out of control. And he’d just told her that one day he might put down roots, concentrate on family.

It was happening again and Celeste tried to tell herself that it was a very good thing that he was leaving.

And yet, an hour later, when it was time to say goodbye outside the bakery, as they waited for his brother to come past in a car with all the gear from the holiday house, it pulled at her heart more than she’d expected.

‘I’ll always be glad we met.’ Quinn held her face in his hands and kissed her. It wasn’t a hungry kiss, one they’d shared plenty of times; it was a goodbye kiss. A firm press of their lips together. A gesture that said this was it, it was over.

And it had to be.

‘I’m glad we met too.’

‘We agreed not to stay in touch.’ His forehead rested against hers.

‘I think it’s for the best.’

After a beat, he smiled. ‘Yeah, it’s for the best.’

‘Thanks for a good few days,’ she grinned.

His laughter was as bright as the sunshine bathing Heritage Cove in a summer glow. ‘Good? I’d prefer to say wonderful, fantastic, amazing⁠—’

She put a hand across his mouth to silence him. Even that had the power to make her feel weak at the knees. What had started off as a bit of fun had tugged at her heart. She was usually good at walking away, but Quinn had stirred something unexpected in her. A need for more.

When the car rolled up, both of them looked over at the same time and then back to one another.

‘This is goodbye then,’ he breathed into her hair. ‘I won’t ever forget you.’

‘Or my salted-caramel turnovers.’ She tried for a joke; it was easier than baring her soul.

‘Yeah, and those.’

‘You’d better go.’

When he opened his mouth to say more, she kissed him before he could and this time, she took his face in her hands. ‘Goodbye, Quinn.’

And she turned and went into the bakery, past Jade at the counter and straight out the back, where she burst into tears.

It was a good five minutes later when Jade came through and wrapped her in a big hug. She’d been with a customer in the bakery and most likely kept up the same pretence Celeste had managed with her false smile as she breezed past them.

But now there was no pretence. Jade could see that for Celeste, this hadn’t been a brief fling. This hadn’t been a few days of fun before she went back to her normal life.

This had been so much more.

2

The cosy warmth of the Copper Plough, Heritage Cove’s 400-year-old pub, welcomed Celeste as she stepped inside out of the shivering November wind that evening. It felt like a comforting embrace coming in here, drawn along the narrow corridor and into the bar and all the chatter amongst locals. It had been a long day in the bakery with a big schedule of deliveries but she wouldn’t miss this for anything. Tonight was the last night before landlord and landlady, Terry and Nola, handed the pub over to its new owners.

Nola had a collection of glasses expertly pinched between her fingers. She brought them over to the bar as Celeste peeled off her gloves. ‘Early finish?’ she smiled.

‘Yep, it’s my turn to escape before closing. Jade’s finishing up.’ Celeste pushed her gloves into her coat pockets and took off the claret, knitted hat that covered her ears nicely. The problem with having a pixie cut was that there was nothing to keep your neck or your ears warm in late autumn. The wind had whipped around her outside as she’d walked the short distance along The Street to come here from the Twist and Turn Bakery but at least the rain had stopped.

‘What can I get you, love?’ Terry emerged from the kitchen and took his position behind the bar.

‘Can’t go wrong with a classic winter warmer,’ she beamed.

‘Well, ’tis the season. Almost. It’s still technically autumn.’

‘Technically,’ she smiled, ‘but it sure doesn’t feel like it.’

He turned to the back of the bar and filled a glass with mulled wine from the urn, adding in a couple of orange slices and a cinnamon stick before handing it to Celeste. The alluring sensory symphony of warmed wine, cinnamon and cloves snaked into the air as Celeste clutched the glass between her palms, savouring the comfort.

She was about to ask Terry whether he’d had the new owners there today – perhaps that was who she’d seen and mistaken for someone very much in her past – but he was already serving somebody else and so instead she headed over to the group in the corner of the pub. Soon, she was seated in one of the cosy nooks made up of the same dark, almost black timber that filled the inside of the Copper Plough and also appeared on the pub’s exterior. With her mulled wine in front of her, she listened to septuagenarian Barney regale the story of his first pub quiz here many moons ago.

‘I expected the questions to be easy but what do I know about pop culture?’ Barney cleared his throat and had another sip of whatever he was drinking – it didn’t look like a pint of his usual Guinness. Barney was a permanent fixture in the Cove and, much like the pub, nobody could imagine the village without him.

‘I’d have thought you knew quite a lot,’ said Celeste, with the others agreeing.

Lucy, blacksmith in the Cove, tossed her long, blonde hair over one shoulder. ‘Yes, you’ve usually got your ear to the ground, Barney; age is never a barrier for you picking up information here, there and everywhere.’ Her blue eyes shone with mischief.

‘Are you implying that I gossip?’ Barney pretended to be offended. Celeste was sure in all his years he’d never met a crowd who didn’t like him. ‘Or maybe you’re trying to say that I talk but I don’t listen?’

‘All she’s saying,’ put in Linc, Jade’s boyfriend, ‘is that she assumed you knew all there was to know about everything.’

‘I went home after that quiz and brushed up a bit, watched some popular TV shows – not my taste – and picked up some magazines from the convenience store to catch up on celebrity gossip.’

‘How did that go?’ Celeste was sure she’d be getting a second mulled wine. It was going down a treat – it was festive and a good reminder they were in the run-up to another Christmas in the Cove.

‘A lot of it was utter rubbish.’

Celeste laughed. ‘At least you’re honest. And you’re right, I have to agree.’ When she spotted Linc checking his watch, she told him, ‘Jade’s closing up at the bakery, she’ll be here in a little while.’

‘Aw, are you pining?’ Lucy teased Linc but he took it well, with a smile and a shake of his head, his messy curls, which Jade was always complimenting, moving about of their own accord. Their baby daughter Phoebe, with her cherubic cheeks and cute smile, had inherited the same dark-brown curls as well as his blue eyes. She was simply gorgeous and Celeste was in love with being an auntie.

‘And anyway,’ Linc batted back, ‘you’re one to talk, Lucy. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you with one eye on the door to see whether Daniel is about to grace us with his presence.’

‘I am not.’

But Celeste had seen her do it too and said as much. ‘Is he heading this way?’ she asked.

Daniel owned and ran the Little Waffle Shack, a gorgeous log cabin eatery that sat at the top of the green space that spread behind the local bus stop. The residents of Heritage Cove ate well between the pub, the waffle shack, Etna’s tea rooms, the girls’ bakery and the ice-cream shop.

‘He said he’d try,’ Lucy shrugged, ‘but I suppose it all depends on whether the birthday party booking up there finishes at a reasonable time.’

‘I love a good party,’ Barney grinned mischievously. ‘I’ll bet it won’t finish till late.’ He coughed into a tissue, a cough that had Lucy lean across and rub him gently on the back and ask whether he was all right.

‘I’m fine, don’t fuss. It’s a simple