A Warmth in Winter Read Online Free PDF Page B

throwing in the trowel, but some persistent and annoying shred of hope prevented her from completely giving up. Her supervisor called her a born optimist, her coworkers called her nuts, but she wouldn’t give up until she had no other choice. After all, for a while her experiment had exhibited signs of promise. The spindly seedlings she’d planted on Heavenly Daze had perked up and actually thrived even after her aunt’s dog uprooted them. All through October and mid-November Annie clung to hope. But last weekend even she had to admit the plants were teetering on extinction.
    Closing the folder, she gently massaged her throbbing temples. Her Aunt Olympia was struggling to hang on, too. Though Uncle Edmund’s death had been expected for weeks, the reality of his absence was only beginning to sink in. For the first time in forty years Olympia had no family in the house.
    At least she had Caleb. The old butler had served Olympia for as long as Annie could remember. But Caleb couldn’t take Edmund’s place, and Olympia had only begun to battle the loneliness.
    Getting up from the desk, Annie shuffled to the file cabinet. Lately her own disposition hadn’t exactly exuded sunshine and mirth. A dark cloud hovered over her heart, ready to devour her. Even though she hadn’t been close to Edmund the past few years, she couldn’t shake the feeling of loss.
    Added all together Edmund’s death, the time she had spent in Heavenly Daze helping Olympia tie up odds and ends, and the funeral had thrown Annie hopelessly behind in her work. The extra hours she’d been forced to put in hadn’t helped her mood. She hadn’t left work before seven a single night this week, and now she was in her office on a Saturday . . . working.
    Where was the old Annie?
    She’d forgotten how to laugh so hard her side ached.
    It had been months since she’d savored the feel of a warm robe fresh out of the dryer.
    She missed giggling, the serendipity of finding a forgotten twenty-dollar bill in her coat pocket, and the beauty of a drive on a rural road.
    Instead her life had been filled with trudging to work, coming home to a quiet apartment, feeding the cat, and dropping into bed—sometimes too exhausted to eat. Her clothes hung on her, and well-intentioned friends had begun to ask if she was bulimic.
    Bulimic? Annie Cuvier, who could polish off a Big Mac and fries and go back for a hot apple pie without a moment’s hesitation?
    Where was the Annie who derived pleasure from something so simple as discovering a no-wait line at the Super Wal-Mart? Or the woman who was delighted to discover a fat-free version of her favorite rocky road ice cream?
    She pulled a file from the cabinet, the label blurring as her eyes filled with tears. How had her life become so empty? Her friends had husbands and young children; she had a paycheck and an empty apartment.
    Had she missed the boat? She’d been standing on the dock, doing what all the experts suggested. She’d read every book: How to Find a Mate, Keeping Mr. Right Interested , Living for Love and Loving It , Man Plus Woman: Putting the Two Together . She had read and studied and taken notes, yet here she was, twenty-eight and still single.
    Maybe she should have taken the money she’d spent on those books and put it toward one of those Love Boat cruises— She glanced up to see her coworker, Melanie Procter, about to tap on her door.
    She dashed the tears away. “Come on in, Melanie. What are you doing here on Saturday?”
    The petite blonde flashed a dimpled grin. “Just checking on you. Bought your cruise tickets yet?”
    Closing the file drawer, Annie moved back to her desk. “Not yet.”
    The cruise—she’d pushed it from her mind. The majority of her coworkers were taking a Caribbean cruise over the Christmas holiday, visiting Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Montego Bay, and Cozumel. They were all places she’d