CHAPTER NINE
At the beach cottage, the scent from the pot of hot spiced apple cider lingered in the air. Sheridan had found mulling spice bags at the market, which meant no cheesecloth required. The taste was a little different from home, but Michael drank three cups, so he must have enjoyed it.
“Carol of the Bells” came from the TV set. One channel played only music for the season. He said his mom listened to it.
As Sheridan put away the now-empty boxes of decorations, she hummed along to the song. She owed him a big thank-you. No way would skipping Christmas have been okay. Not when she relished the sights, sounds, and smells of the holiday. There might not be evergreen trees and snow outside the window, but the sand, grass, and the Atlantic Ocean were growing on her.
Michael placed
