Snow is Falling, Cocoa is Calling! (The Coffee Loft Series: Fall Collection)

1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

CAITEY

C aitey Belgrave stomped on the brakes of her SUV, peering through the windshield at a forest thick with redwoods, towering oaks, and pine trees that blinded her to everything else in the vicinity.

The abrupt move caused the wedding items piled on every surface in the rear of her SUV, including the back seat and the passenger seat, to shift and slide while she cringed in terror at potential breakage.

Thank goodness nothing fell to the floor. Wedding paraphernalia was coming out of her eyeballs!

Even so, Caitey threw out a hand to prevent the bride gorgeous homes with multiple acres of forest, manicured lawns, and flower gardens.

There was money up here—lots of it.

Jenna hadn’t told her that she was about to marry a millionaire!

Address numbers disappeared a mile behind Caitey. How would she find the right place? Pausing on the empty road, she consulted her phone map again.

She startled when the British-accented AI woman’s voice suddenly announced: “You have arrived.”

“Oh, yeah?” Caitey muttered, gazing at dense trees and a road that curved endlessly. “Brilliant.”

Taking her foot off the brake, the vehicle slowly inched forward—and that’s when she spied an address marker about two hundred yards further on.

Well, maybe not. No numbers. No street name, even. Or maybe she missed it due to too much overwrought nature!

All at once, she spied a massive and spectacular ironwork of arched front gates to the next estate. She stopped again, putting the car in park so she could lean across the passenger seat. Pressing the button to roll down the window, Caitey gulped at the impressive entrance.

“This is it,” she whispered aloud.

The name of the mansion house was crafted into the ironwork of the front gates in fancy letters.

HEARST WOODS ESTATE

All at once, she felt tiny and insignificant. She glanced at the contents of her loaded car, the packed trunk, and backseat crammed with wedding stuff, and knew it wasn’t enough for a site as large as this mansion.

What was Jenna thinking hiring a still-new, small wedding planner for an estate of this magnitude? Caitey hoped her cousin wouldn’t hate her later if she couldn’t properly pull it off.

Especially after the debacle of her first job at the prestigious interior decorating company. She’d received an excellent salary straight out of college but found herself working double shifts with expectations that changed daily.

And her boss, a dragon lady named Darla Wolff—who gave her little training—yelled all day long. Even when small, easily fixed things didn’t go precisely as Darla would have done.

After all, Caitey wasn’t a mind-reader! Eventually, she found herself dreading going to work every day. A few years later, she was unceremoniously fired in front of the entire staff, on purpose to humiliate her. Ms. Wolff told Caitey that she would never work in the industry again. No recommendations, no referrals, no references.

Months went by while Caitey pounded the pavement for another job until the day Jenna called her up and begged her to create her wedding at a country estate. At the time, she didn’t realize it was one of the biggest family names in California—the powerhouse Hearst family!

Talk about stress! Of course, Caitey said yes—since her bank account was down to zero—and the plans began!

Now that it was here, she couldn’t help but second-guess her expertise and ability to do right by her sweet cousin. Caitey took a sip from her water bottle, stuck her Nissan SUV in Park and exited, walking apprehensively toward the massive double gates. How did she get inside? No one appeared to be on the premises. She couldn’t even catch a glimpse of any actual house through the forest of trees.

Then she saw the keypad and remembered that Jenna had given her a code to use since she would be the first to arrive.

Pulling out her phone, she found the gate code and entered it.

Slowly, the double gates began to open. “Yikes!” she cried, returning to her vehicle and jumping into the driver’s seat. Hurriedly, she backed up so the thousand-pound gate wouldn’t pick up her car and push it across the road and over the cliff.

A niggle of excitement shot up her throat as she entered, tires crunching on the gravel, at the sight of the oversized gate closing shut in her rearview mirror.

She prayed she could pull this wedding off. Her cousin said they would all pitch in and help, but the wedding party would be much too busy, and guests were, well, guests ! At least there was still a full day—tomorrow—before the first guests arrived.

Caitey rolled down the side window and a cool cross breeze wafted across her cheeks. The temperature had lowered dramatically from the freeway. She had to be two or three thousand feet higher than the Pacific Ocean coastline.

Overhead, the dense trees rattled their leaves while Caitey leaned forward to peer through the windshield at the twisted limbs of old oaks and a carpet of pine needles and grasses that muted any sound. Nerves knocked at her throat, nibbling away at her confidence.

This was not typical Southern California weather in the fall, which was usually mild. But she was in the mountains now. Summer was a far distant memory, and Autumn was fast disappearing, too.

Slowly, Caitey drove down the narrow, paved entrance, her palms sweating, and her heart pounding as her vehicle crept through wild bushes with sunlight dripping through the dense trees.

This was exactly how she pictured Manderley Estate on the coast of England! That iconic and mysterious house on the cliffs of Cornwall overlooking the ocean from her favorite novel, Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier.

Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley . . . except it was today, more than a decade after she read that book as a teen.

But she was driving in a cool-ish California afternoon in early November. There was no idyllic British countryside or ocean waves pounding in the distance.

Might there be a romantic pond or lake somewhere on the property? A potential location for the wedding reception?

At the moment, the only thing before Caitey’s eyes were overgrown trees, brambly bushes, and half a mile of deep woods. She wondered if she had taken a wrong turn since there was no sign of a yard or house in the distance—even though she was on the only road after pulling through the gate.

Finally, the pavement widened, and the ominous woods faded, revealing a splendid stone manor house with chimneys and balconies and a circular drive. Ivy crawled up the stone walls, and the expanse of upper story windows shone in the afternoon sunshine, sparkling off the glass.

The riot of wildflowers along the drive became a breathtaking rose garden with flowers of every color. Caitey gasped at its beauty.

She slowed her SUV in front of the steps to the massive double front doors. “Okay, cousin . You said it was a nice house, not practically a castle.”

Caitey bit her lips, throat dry. Her usually composed and unruffled wedding planner persona shrank just a bit in her seat .

“I think I need a second pair of hands to pull this off,” she muttered to herself.

Turning off the engine, Caitey unfolded herself from the seat. She was overdressed for the task of unloading all the wedding paraphernalia she’d stowed. She had assumed there might be family or staff that could help her.

Not a soul in sight. No greeting, no other parked vehicles. Where was everybody?

Had she driven up on the wrong day?

Her stomach growled. She’d forgotten to eat lunch; by now, it was mid-afternoon.

Digging into her handbag, Caitey found a granola bar, peeled it open to take a bite, then gulped down the last of her water.

The grounds were both wild and lovely. Burgeoning flower beds and an exquisite rose garden. She’d have to tour the entire property for that hoped-for fountain.

Brushing crumbs from her palms along the sides of her sheath dress, she turned in a circle, gazing at the woods and the grounds before stepping onto the stone path, then the wide steps to the front door, and rang the bell.

A beautiful melodic chime echoed through the house, but nobody answered. Not a sound anywhere. No passing traffic—although she wouldn’t hear any vehicles this far into the private property.

Perhaps everyone was in the back of the house unloading chairs and tables.

A prickle ran up her neck. Feeling like the only person in the world right now was eerie. And then a new thought bounced around her brain.

What if she had the wrong house? She hadn’t seen a number. There was no mailbox, just her Google map telling her she had arrived. But the code Jenna had given her opened the property gate, so she was in the right place.

Whirling on the ball of her foot, Caitey decided the only thing to do was drive around to the back of the house and find any sign of life—or people.

A dark shadow flitted in the woods when she lifted her eyes. Her heart clutched with anxiety, and Caitey swallowed hard. It must be one of the grounds men—or maybe just a squirrel.

The shadow moved again, but it was not a bird or a squirrel. The shadow was human.

“Yoohoo, it’s the wedding planner here!” she called out, her voice snatched away by the open expanse of the property. “Anyone around?”

Silence, except for a breeze rustling the oaks and pines.

Impatiently, she tripped down the stone steps, climbed into her vehicle, and inserted the key into the Nissan’s ignition, bringing the engine back to life.

That shadowy figure moved closer to the circular drive when she put the car into gear to drive around to the back.

It was a man in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and tie, watching her from inside the forest, a shadow of darkness against the thicket of trees. A pair of binoculars dangled from his hands .

Caitey’s heart jumped into her throat, a gasp of fear freezing her into place. But the man stayed in the shadows, not coming forward to greet her.

He must be a groundskeeper—but since when did gardeners wear three-thousand-dollar Armani suits?