A Recipe for Thanksgiving Read online

  A Recipe for Thanksgiving

  A Romance in Four Seasons

  Nancy Warren

  Ambleside Publishing

  A Recipe for Thanksgiving © Nancy Weatherley WarrenAll Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Check out these other great titles from Nancy Warren

  About the Author

  Erin Nash has never cooked a turkey in her life, but how hard can it be? She’s only putting on a Thanksgiving Dinner for her new family and friends in the small town of Kaslo, Washington. Between experimenting with turkey recipes, dealing with a mysterious ailment and enjoying her brand new family, life is busy for Erin, her new husband Jared and six year old Sadie. It’s a good thing they have Cupid, the Border Collie puppy, to keep everyone in line. A Recipe for Thanksgiving is the last installment of A Romance in Four Seasons. The four stories are:

  Border Collie Christmas, part 1

  A Dog Named Cupid, part 2

  A Midsummer Night’s Wedding, part 3

  and A Recipe for Thanksgiving, part 4.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed the adventures of Cupid and his people as much as I have.

  Naturally, my own Border collie, Max, was my biggest inspiration.

  For new releases and bonus materials, please join my newsletter here.

  Happy Reading!

  Nancy

  Chapter One

  What had she been thinking? Erin Nash Gardiner asked herself, not for the first or even tenth time. She’d never even cooked a turkey before, not once in the thirty years of her life and here she was inviting a ridiculous number of people to come and join her and her new family for Thanksgiving dinner.

  It was currently breakfast time, but all she could think about was turkey. They were all in the kitchen enjoying poached eggs and fruit. Jared, her new husband, Sadie, her six-year-old stepdaughter, and Cupid, the Border Collie who lived in hope that somebody would drop something good on the floor. He’d edged himself closest to Sadie, usually the best bet for an accidental food drop. His chin rested on the little girl’s foot which was clad in purple fuzzy slippers.

  “What do you think, Jared? Traditional chestnut stuffing or should I go modern? There’s this way you do turkey with figs and some kind of spice I’ve never even heard of that I found online.”

  Jared, her husband of less than six months, scratched his head, his green eyes twinkling. “Have you ever cooked a turkey before?”

  “No.” She tried not to let her panic show. How hard could it be?

  “Maybe you should start with basic arithmetic before you move to advanced calculus.”

  “I guess you’re right. I want everything to be perfect for our first Thanksgiving together.”

  “It will be.”

  Then, still looking at Erin, Jared said, “Sadie, if you give Cupid your egg, you’ll end up hungry before lunch time. And, as you know, we don’t feed the dog from the table.” She had no idea how he did that eyes in the back of the head thing, but she had a feeling she was going to have to learn. She was playing catch-up in the parenting department, although Sadie was one of the bright lights of her life, she was learning parenting on the job. But then, she thought, who didn’t?

  “He looks so hungry,” Sadie said in her wheedling tone.

  “That’s because he’s an amazing actor. Really, that dog could be an Oscar contender.” It was true, she thought, turning her gaze to the black and white moocher. He was doing his starving stray routine, it involved big eyes that never left the person who was eating, that followed every morsel from plate to mouth. He never overtly begged, it was this silent desperation that got to you every time.

  “He’s had his breakfast, honey.”

  “But it’s all gone. His bowl is empty.”

  Of course he knew when they were talking about him. Cupid always knew. She could have sworn he did his best to suck his stomach in.

  She spoke up now, “When I took him to the vet, she said he’s a little overweight. She thinks we might be feeding him too much.”

  Sadie had an expression that was so like her dad’s it always made Erin smile. She’d look at you from under her lashes and convey serious doubt without voicing a syllable. It was clear that in Sadie’s mind, the vet was incompetent and probably a secret animal hater.

  However, she finished her own egg and ate the whole wheat toast and fruit without another word.

  “That’s my girl. Go brush your teeth and get ready for school,” Jared said. He’d drop her off on his way to his office and then Erin would go to work in the spare room that they’d converted to her studio after she and Jared had married and she’d moved in. She couldn’t believe how well it was all working out.

  She’d prepared herself for difficulties, even lined up a therapist but Sadie loved having her around. She was happy, healthy and secure. She was also a girly-girl and the two of them bonded in a way that was entirely theirs.

  Jared had already worked through the pain of losing his wife. He’d come to Erin with sadness in his past, as she had come to him, but he also had a heart that was only too ready to love again.

  She packed the lunch she’d made into Sadie’s pink backpack and passed it to her when she and Jared came through the kitchen on their way to the garage.

  “You’re picking me up after school, right?”

  She smiled. They went through this every day. It wasn’t that Sadie didn’t think she was coming, more that, again like her dad, she preferred to vocalize her schedule. “You bet.”

  “Okay, Bye.” Sadie kissed her and then got on the floor and kissed Cupid. The black and white tail thumped against the floor.

  While the two young ones were occupied, Jared took the opportunity to kiss Erin. She clung to him for a second, feeling him so warm and solid in her arms. She had moments like this when she wondered how she had ever got so lucky. She had arrived in Kaslo almost exactly a year ago, a woman with a broken heart and a sad luck story. How was it possible that less than a year later she had gone from a lonely, heartsick woman living alone in a rented cottage far from everyone she knew to this rich, new life?

  She was married now, still practically a newlywed. She was the stepmother of a gorgeous, engaging little girl and to top it all off her new family included Cupid. She might be biased, but she was fairly certain that Cupid was the greatest puppy in all the world.

  “I love you,” Jared whispered softly in her ear. He said those words every morning as he was leaving her to go to work, as though making sure that whatever happened to the two of them during the course of the day that she’d remember his feelings for her.

  Every morning, she felt the thrill all over again, as though this were the first time he’d ever said those words. And, as she did every morning, she whispered back, “I love you, too,” and sent him off with one last, lingering kiss.

  After Jared and Sadie left, Cupid turned his attention to her. He was a dog of routine. He knew, for instance, that she would head back to the kitchen, finish the breakfast dishes, make some sort of plan for dinner, and then she would take him out for a walk.

  He trotted at her heels back into the kitchen, curled up on the floor, where he had a clear view of her, his head resting on his paws and his big brown eyes following her every movement. If so much as a crumb dropped on the floor, he’d be there to snatch it up. The dishes done, she glanced over the assortment of recipes she’d printed out and collected from various sources, all variations on a turkey dinner. “How can there be s
o many different ways to cook a bird?” she asked the dog. He didn’t have any answers, but he trotted over and rubbed his nose against her leg. She appreciated the silent support. “At least you’ll eat it, right?”

  She flipped through the printouts. She could brine the turkey, fill a (clean) galvanized garbage can with boiling oil and deep fry the turkey. This sounded interesting but possibly messy. She could roast the turkey, she could stuff it with artisanal breads, homemade corn bread (oh, good, another thing to make), with fruits she’d heard of, like apples and cranberries and some she hadn’t. There was a stuffing with maybe morel mushrooms and chorizo, another with herbs and spinach.

  Inviting family and friends to celebrate the holidays had seemed like a great idea a few weeks ago, but as the dreaded T-Day grew closer, she was starting to freak.

  “It’s ridiculous,” she told the dog. “I make neck-pieces for rock stars to wear in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans and I don’t get scared. Why am I so nervous about cooking a dinner for my family?”

  Cupid cocked his head and looked at her.

  “Right. You’re right. I practice and practice until I get each piece right before I ever sell it.” She shuffled through the pages of recipes, considered closing her eyes and choosing one randomly. Then the obvious solution struck her. “Of course. You’re right. I’ll practice my turkey dinner.”

  Erin was very much a no time like the present sort of woman. Once she’d made up her mind she checked the time and decided that if she hurried, she could cook her first experimental turkey dinner tonight.

  They might all be sick of white and dark meat by the actual holiday, but at least she’d have had some practice.

  And she’d be experimenting on the two people who loved her too much to be overly critical of her first Thanksgiving effort.

  That decision made, she made a list of the ingredients that she would need for Operation T-Day, trial 1.

  Then she went to the mudroom where she put on her coat and boots. Her bag was already hanging on a hook and she dug out her lipstick giving her lips a quick swipe of color before heading out the door.

  Even though this routine was enacted every single morning, Cupid leapt in the air, his shrill puppy barks echoing off the walls, his tail wagging so fast it was a blur of black and white.

  It was impossible not to laugh or to hang on to any worry or bad mood when you had a companion who was so joyously happy about the simplest things. He trotted out the door and jumped into the back of her SUV like it was the greatest thrill of his young life, pressing his nose immediately against the smudged window.

  The trip to their favorite dog walk hardly took any time at all. She loved the nature trail that followed the course of the river. If she walked far enough, she would reach the small cottage she had rented last year. There were a lot of memories associated with both her cottage and with this trail. She and Cupid had walked beside the river many times, sometimes with Jared and Sadie. She would never forget the awful night that Sadie had become lost trying to walk to her cottage. Cupid had drawn on his Border Collie instincts and found the little girl.

  She had no idea if he remembered events the way humans did, but she knew he loved this trail as much as she did, stopping to sniff here, running ahead there, prancing to the river’s edge – and he knew all the spots where the current wasn’t too strong – to lap up the cold water.

  They passed a few other dog walkers on this cool but blessedly dry Wednesday morning. One was a woman around her own age, with a new baby bundled in a carrier strapped to the mother’s front. While the woman’s young lab, soaking wet and liberally spattered with mud, danced around Cupid, she stopped to admire the new baby. The sleeping infant nestled against its mother’s breast, one tiny hand curled under its chin, the rosebud mouth pursed as though the child were dreaming of feeding.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Erin said. A familiar ache spread through her belly. Even though she’d been blessed with Jared and with his precious daughter Sadie, she knew that on some level she would always grieve her inability to bear children.

  “Thanks,” the woman said. “You forget how tired you are at first and how little time you have to yourself. I can’t remember how it feels to sleep for an entire night.”

  She nodded though of course she had no idea what life was like with a newborn. And she’d never know.

  However, she reminded herself that God worked in mysterious ways. If her former fiancé hadn’t betrayed her, if she hadn’t become so run down that she succumbed to a bad flu bug that made her so sick she lost the baby she was carrying as well as any hope a future children, then she would never have escaped to the tiny town of Kaslo.

  Cupid, a lost and forlorn puppy, would not have turned up on her doorstep and therefore she would never have met Jared and Sadie.

  Maybe she would always regret not having her own babies, but she also knew how very lucky she was to have found a new love, a new family, a whole new life.

  As the two young dogs sniffed each other in a final goodbye and she and the new mother wished each other a good day, she looked up into the trees where the last of the fall leaves hung in bursts of red and gold. She had a great deal to be thankful for this Thanksgiving season and she was determined that everything about her first Thanksgiving dinner with her new family would be absolutely perfect.

  Chapter Two

  Kaslo’s only grocery store was bustling with young moms, retired folks, self-employed people like her who could take time out in the middle of a Wednesday morning to buy food. There was a big box outlet and a mega-grocery store both within an hour’s drive of Kaslo, but Erin liked her local grocer’s and supported them whenever possible.

  The country grocer was all geared up for Thanksgiving. A large sign reminded her that if she wanted a fresh turkey for her family feast she needed to get her order in soon. Vast heaps of winter squashes, Brussels sprouts, bags of fresh cranberries, and the mountain of orange pumpkins all seemed to be staring at her as though to say, “Are you sure you are up to this?”

  The answer was, no. Her artistic talents lay in jewelry designing. She wasn’t sure she’d ever become an accomplished cook. However, she had already invited all of Jared’s family and even a few friends to join them on their first Thanksgiving as a family. She was going to make it work.

  With determined steps she approached the butcher counter and said good morning to the genial man in the white apron standing behind the counter.

  “Morning, Erin,” he said. It had taken a while for her to become used to everyone in town knowing not only her name, but most of her business. Now that she’d settled here and become part of the community, she kind of liked it.

  “Morning, Fred,” she replied. “You’ve got my order for thanksgiving turkey, right?”

  “Sure do.” He consulted a binder, ran his forefinger down a handwritten list of names and nodded. “Twenty-six pounds. Big bird. You’re cooking quite a feast.”

  A beat of panic fluttered across her chest. If Fred, the butcher, considered it a big bird, it must be really big. “I am. But here’s the thing, Fred. I’m trying a new recipe and I want to do a practice run. Do you have a small fresh turkey that I could cook tonight?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got a couple of nice nine pounders. Would give you a good meal and a couple of days of leftovers for the three of you. Sound good?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  She consulted the list she’d made this morning and gathered all the ingredients for her practice Thanksgiving dinner. Once she’d brought the groceries into the kitchen and put them away, she made herself a pot of coffee. Cupid, knowing her routine as well as she did, headed straight for her studio and his accustomed spot curled in the corner where he could watch her work. Her contentment with life spilled out into her designs. She’d been playing with ideas based on Japanese fans, small, surprising folds of color in rich, clear, summer tones. As a designer, she was always two seasons ahead of herself. So, while the last fall leave
s fluttered to the ground outside her window, in here it was midsummer.

  Out of consideration for Cupid’s puppy ears, she kept the volume of her technopop music lower than she would normally play it. The decreased noise level however didn’t seem to hurt her creativity or her production. She’d fallen into a nice routine of working a few hours in the morning, breaking for lunch and then often, like today, picking Sadie up from school.

  Instead of going back to work after lunch as she often did, Erin pulled out a selection of the turkey recipes she had found on the Internet. Jared had suggested that she go with a more traditional turkey recipe, but she wasn’t a traditional kind of woman and turkey with traditional stuffing yada yada simply didn’t interest her.

  *

  Jared pulled into the drive with a familiar feeling of contentment. There had been so many nights after he’d lost his first wife that he’d driven towards the house with a feeling of despair. How would he cope without the woman he’d loved and with a baby girl to bring up?

  He’d managed. Somehow, he’d managed. His mom had helped out, his friends had done the best they could, and even on the worst days when darkness threatened to engulf him, he always had Sadie. He’d been terrified, not knowing how to bring up a little girl all by himself, but looking back he realized he hadn’t done too badly.

  Then he met Erin and it was as though the sunshine came back into his world.

  Now, as he pulled into the driveway, he felt anticipation and the deep satisfaction of a happy family man. It used to be that he’d open the front door to find the house dark and cold. He’d juggle groceries and Sadie and try to pull a nutritious meal together plus spend some quality time with his daughter who was missing her mom as much as he was missing his wife.

  Now he wondered what he’d discover when he got inside the house. It would be warm, he knew that, the dog would bark hysterically as though he hadn’t seen Jared for months. Lights would be on and some kind of dinner would be on its way. Sadie would be settled at the kitchen table proudly showing off what she’d learned at school that day or drawing a picture, or else he’d find her on the floor playing with Cupid. Erin might be stirring something at the stove or, if she’d had a really busy day with her designing, she might tell him to call for pizza. Either way, there’d be a warm kiss and the smile she kept only for him.