Father Christmas #3
"With her signature wit and style, Robin Jones Gunn crafts a Christmas tale filled with faith, love, and the true meaning of the season." —Lisa Wingate, #1 New York Times–bestselling author of Before We Were Yours
Anna's first visit to Carlton Heath in England was last May for the wedding of her cousin Ian to Miranda. The beautiful event ended with a dance under the stars and Anna receiving an unexpected kiss from Peter, the groomsman who caught her eye and now holds her heart.
Now, at the invitation of family and friends, Anna is returning to Carlton Heath for Christmas. She has Peter's recent email to fill her with assurance that he's looking forward to seeing her again as well.
More than his brief words, though, the vivid memory of their unforgettable kiss provides a promise of more to come. Anna, ever the imaginative artist, has been busy painting a romantic conclusion to her holiday visit.
Certainly she's not the only one who has been dreaming of another dance and another kiss. But when she sees Peter again, his intentions seem to shift as speedily as the blustery winter weather. Is Anna's heart misleading her, or will Father Christmas bestow on her the gift of love for which she has long dreamed?
"Gunn writes from the heart. . . . a delight to read." —RT Book Reviews
"Both charming and gripping." —Cynthia Ruchti, author of An Endless Christmas and Restoring Christmas
"Robin's ability to ribbon a tale that wraps our hearts in beauty and love is seamless." —Patsy Clairmont, author of You Are More Than You Know
Chapter One
I awoke as the pale light of the December morn was finding its way into the upstairs guest room at Whitcombe Manor. The heavy drapes appeared to be etched with a silver lining that trailed like a single thread across the dark wood floor. I propped myself up in the cozy bed and folded my lily-white blond hair into a loose braid, letting it cascade over my shoulder. A contented smile rested on my lips in the hushed room.
I’m really here. I’m back in England.
This place, these people, had been in my waking dreams ever since I came to the enchanting village of Carlton Heath for my cousin’s wedding last May. Ian was raised in Scotland, so I’d never met him. His mother passed away several years ago and his fiancée, Miranda, did something I’d never seen before. She included a personal note with their formal wedding invitation. The last line really got to me.
It would mean the world to Ian and me if you could be with us
on our special day and represent Ian’s mother’s side of the family.
Somehow I convinced my mother to make the trek and honor the memory of her sister. We stayed at Whitcombe Manor, the gorgeous estate that had belonged to Miranda’s family for generations. It turned into a life-altering experience for both of us. For me, Ian and Miranda’s wedding day was the stuff of fairy tales. And I have long been a dreamer and a secret believer in fairy tales.
The men wore dress kilts. Miranda’s shimmering white gown had the longest train I’d ever seen. The storybook couple whispered their vows inside a quaint sandstone chapel while holding hands in front of a glowing stained glass window. Bagpipes played as they exited beneath a bower of woven forest greens dotted with dozens of fragrant, deep red roses. Their reception was held in the gardens at Whitcombe Manor. All the guests kept smiling at them as they danced until the first stars came out to watch them, to bless them.
I fell in love with love that day.
In my twenty-six years as a sheltered only child, I’d never dreamed of so much beauty and such elegantly expressed affection. My parents were practical and efficient and held to the notion that feelings should be kept to oneself and all artistic expressions were for private reflection only. They were minimalists when it came to celebrating birthdays and holidays.
That’s why I had never danced before. At least not in public. But at Ian and Miranda’s wedding as the stars looked on, everything changed. I knew then that one day I would return to Carlton Heath. I would once again stay at Whitcombe Manor. Love would draw me back.
Today was that day.
The morning light now infiltrated all the open crevices around the drapes in my guest room. I tossed back the puffy down comforter and padded over to the grand picture window. With a hearty tug I pulled back the thick fabric and watched the room fill with soft light. A puff of swirling dust particles spun in midair.
The garden below that had hosted Ian and Miranda’s glorious wedding reception on that pristine day last May now slumbered in a state of deep resignation. The hollyhocks, foxgloves, and vivid pink cosmos were gone. The lights and lanterns as well as the party tables that had been covered in crisp, white linen had been taken down. All that remained were rows of shorn rosebushes and mounds of waiting perennials.
I stared through the thick-paned window, narrowing my eyes and trying to remember the colors, the music, and the expression of sincere intrigue in Peter’s pale blue eyes when he held out his hand to me. Every detail of that dreamy night returned to my mind’s eye, starting with the moment when Uncle Andrew drew me out on the dance floor in the middle of the festivities. He spun me around with a great bellowing of Scottish pride for his son and new daughter-in-law and I laughed at the sheer boldness of his demeanor.
I felt welcomed into the clan and gladly entered in when Miranda motioned for me to join a circle of young women. We were all soon laughing and holding hands as we jigged forward into a close huddle and then hopped back to expand the circle and invite others to join in. We were like the Midsummer’s Eve fairies I’d read about as a child. In my elation, I motioned for my mother to come join us, but she would not.
She watched me from a corner table as if I were someone she’d never met before.
The jig concluded and I chose to take my slice of cake and enjoy it at Uncle Andrew’s table. I sat beside his new wife, Katharine, whom I liked very much. She and I sipped tea from china cups and I decided in that moment that these were my people. I had been born into the wrong branch of our family tree. I had grown up in the wrong country.
In the wake of that epiphany, I looked up and saw tall, gregarious Peter Elliott striding across the garden in his best man’s kilt and dress jacket. He was coming to me, coming for me.
He held out his hand in a wordless invitation, and without hesitation I placed mine in his. In the glow of a dozen swaying lanterns, we danced. We danced and danced and I was forever changed. His short brown hair and athletic build were instantly fixed in my memory.
As we danced I thought I saw a touch of sadness in the corner of his eyes, and that hint of vulnerability endeared him to me. I hadn’t seen it the night before at the rehearsal dinner. At the restaurant he had been the rowdy life of the party with great stories to tell about Ian since the two of them had been friends so long. The camaraderie between Peter and my cousin was impressive. Ian and Miranda trusted Peter and I did, too, when I let him lead me to the dance floor.
Even now I closed my eyes and swayed in front of the guest room window as I remembered how warm his hand felt as he rested it on the small of my back and our eyes did their own sort of dance, connecting for a shy, momentary gaze and then pulling away. We slow danced with our lips drawn up in thin, half-moon slivers.
One dance, then two, then a third and a fourth. We conversed in sparse paragraphs, asking each other about jobs and family and both saying what a beautiful night it was.
The last dance began and Peter asked how long I was staying in Carlton Heath. I said we were leaving in two days.
“Two days? That’s not much of a visit,” he murmured. “You really should stay on.”
“I’d love to stay longer but I can’t.”
He held me a little tighter. We danced until the music came to a lingering finish, and then it happened.
Peter kissed me.
Release Date: November 4, 2018
Release Time: 90 minutes
Director: David Winning
Cast:
Erin Krakow as Miranda
Niall Matter as Ian
Wendie Malick as Margaret
P. Lynn Johnson as Katherine
Michael Kopsa as Andrew
Barry Flatman as Thomas
Julia Benson as Ellie
Nevis Unipan as Julia
Callum Seagram Airlie as Mark(as Callum Airlie)
Jim Thorburn as Peter
Bill Dow as Charles
Alvin Sanders as Pastor Whalen
Jannen Karr as Office Manager
Chris Cope as Uniformed Doorman
Ellen Ewusie as Lydia
Jill Morrison as Nicole
Alexa Barajas as Store Clerk
ROBIN JONES GUNN is the best-selling author of over 100 books, including the timeless Christy Miller series for teens. The characters continue in Christy & Todd: The College Years, The Married Years, The Baby Years and Haven Maker series.
Her multi-award-winning Christian fiction includes the Glenbrooke and Sisterchicks series. Four of her novels have been made into Hallmark Christmas movies. The Father Christmas movies broke records for the network by becoming the most watched and highest rated movies in 2016 and 2017.
Robin's popular non-fiction includes, "Victim of Grace" along with "Before You Meet Your Future Husband" and "Praying for Your Future Husband" both co-authored with Tricia Goyer.
Robin is a frequent speaker at international and local events. She and her husband have two grown children and live in California. She co-hosts the "Women Worth Knowing" podcast with Cheryl Brodersen.
Kissing Father Christmas #3
Father Christmas Series
Film
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