The Christmas Sisters: The Sunday Times top ten feel-good and romantic bestseller!. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ In a small community like the one she lived in, you couldn’t walk away when a romance ended. There was a strong likelihood you were going to see the person every day. It had happened to her, and she wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience.

      Rory called out to them. “Everything okay over there?”

      Posy turned her head. “I think the victim has hypothermia.”

      “Victim?” Luke arched an eyebrow. “Less of the ‘victim,’ thank you. It’s not how I see myself.” He bent to stroke Bonnie. “You’re the only girl for me. If I really had been buried in that avalanche and you rescued me, I’d have to marry you.”

      “Mr. and Mrs. Golden Retriever. I predict many years of happiness.” Before Posy could dodge, Luke stuffed a handful of snow down the neck of her jacket.

      Ice trickled over her skin and she gasped. “That’s immature.”

      “But satisfying. And now you’re cold, too, which levels the playing field. We should warm each other. Hot shower. Log fire. Bottle of red wine.”

      It would be easy enough to do because technically they lived under the same roof.

      On their land was a barn, complete with hayloft. Her parents had cleverly converted it into two properties. Posy lived in the loft, which had sloping ceilings and views of the stars. The barn was offered as a rental. It was half a mile from Glensay Lodge, where her parents lived, and bordered by pine and birch woodland. A short walk led you to the deep loch, spring fed and stocked with brown trout.

      Its isolation wasn’t for everyone, and in the summer the occupants were mostly couples seeking a romantic week in the wild Highlands. It was perfect for cycling, bird-watching, hiking and loch swimming, but the biggest draw was its proximity to big mountains. In the winter the barn was often booked by climbers.

      Short rentals meant more work for Posy. With frequent changeovers, she was always cleaning, changing beds and doing laundry, so she’d been thrilled when Luke Whittaker had booked it for four months with an option to extend.

      He was a climber and writer. He needed peace and quiet to finish a book, and a base that would allow him to climb. The barn offered opportunities for both.

      Occasionally, when she’d arrived home late after a training session, Posy had seen his lights burning, so she already knew Luke Whittaker was a night owl.

      She also knew he was good with animals. Like now, for instance, when he was sending Bonnie into ecstasy with a stomach rub.

      He glanced up at her. “I’m assuming Bonnie passed the test?”

      “She did. She picked up your scent right away.”

      He straightened. “Are you telling me I smell?”

      “Be grateful that you do. It’s how she finds you. She is trained to look for human scent. If you’re panicking and sweating, you give off a stronger smell.”

      “I was buried in snow. I can assure you not a drop of sweat emerged from my frozen pores.”

      “That’s where you’re wrong. She sensed your fear.” She enjoyed teasing him. “And she could probably feel the vibrations in the snow where you were shivering. But seriously, thanks. It was a good thing you did and we’re all grateful.”

      “She seems like a pretty good rescue dog to me.”

      “Fetch is her favorite game, which helps. You need a dog who has a strong drive to retrieve. And also scenting is her superpower.”

      They picked their way over the lumps of snow, back down the track to where Posy had parked her car. A fresh layer of soft powder dusted the surface of the snow and the freezing air numbed her cheeks.

      “Have you rescued many stranded climbers and hikers?”

      “Yes. And sometimes I’ll get called by the police to help search for a missing person. A couple of weeks ago Bonnie found an elderly guy with dementia who had gone walkabout. His family were beside themselves—apparently he’d managed to unlock the front door and wander. They were relieved when we found him.”

      “Wait—” He stopped walking. “I thought a trailing dog is a different type of rescue dog.”

      “More often than not it is. Dogs either air scent, where they follow any human scent, or they follow the trail of a specific scent. It’s rare for a dog to be trained to do both.”

      “And she is?”

      “What can I say? She’s a superstar.”

      They carried on walking. “The man you found was all right?”

      “He was pretty cold. Bonnie found him sheltering behind a hedge. Spent a few nights in the hospital, but doing okay now. Bonnie and I went to visit him.”

      “Is there anything she can’t do?”

      “She doesn’t love helicopter rides—” Posy pulled a face “—and we get a few of those.”

      Bonnie jumped into the back of the car and wagged her tail expectantly while Posy changed her boots and removed the outer layers of her clothing.

      She stuck out her hand. “Have a great day.”

      Luke stared at her hand. “I give you my whole body, and all you give me in return is your hand? The least you could do is invite me to join you for a mug of hot chocolate in that cozy café you run with your mother.”

      “Can’t. Today I’m staff, not a customer.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “But I’ll bring you home a slab of chocolate cake.”

      “Dinner, then. I’ll take you to the Glensay Inn. Roaring log fire, local ale, good food and great company.”

       And all the gossip you could handle.

      “I’ve lived here for most of my life, Luke. You don’t have to sell the charms of my own village to me. And tonight, I’m busy.”

      “You, Posy McBride, are always busy. When you’re not out tracking down lost souls with your dog or guiding someone up an ice wall, you’re working in the café, tending the sheep or collecting eggs from your hens. Which, by the way, taste like nothing I’ve ever eaten before.”

      “Everything tastes better here. It’s the air. I have to go.” She knew her mother would be overwhelmed. “It’s our busy period and Mom is handling it on her own because Vicky is feeling under the weather.”

      He stood, legs spread, hands on hips. “You’re good to your mom.”

      It seemed like a strange thing to say. “She’s my mother. Why wouldn’t I be?”

      “Have you always been close?”

      Posy’s earliest memory was being rocked to sleep by Suzanne. She remembered the warmth, the tightness of her arms, the feeling of comfort and security. “Yes.”

      “And you’re going to take over the café from her one day?”

      “That’s СКАЧАТЬ