Chapter One
“Back, everyone get back!” The cry carried over the crackling roar of the blaze, and the firefighters dragged Noelle Rieth away from the burning building. She stumbled through the icy puddles as the crash of her collapsing roof sent a hot dagger through her heart. Despite every effort of the brave volunteer fire department, Bistro Noelle, the life’s work of her parents, crumbled into smoking rubble before her eyes.
She sat on the curb, across the street, numb, while the fire chief asked her questions to which she had no answers. What happened? What could have caused the blaze? Had something been left on the stove or in the oven? No. No. She didn’t think so. Her well-trained staff and she did a final walk-through every night before they went home and she headed upstairs to her apartment.
With another creak, the upstairs fell into the down, her apartment and business joining in a bad way.
Oh God. Her staff. Sam the sous chef, Maria and Gwen the servers…her part time college-student dishwasher, Emmy. They’d lost their jobs on Christmas Eve. At least with the restaurant closed for the holiday, they wouldn’t find out until the day after Christmas. Small comfort.
Yuletide might be her least favorite time of year, but they all loved it. Their staff party had been full of love and warmth and merriness—almost enough to warm her heart toward the holiday. Their sweet gifts to her burned with the rest of her belongings.
When the chief released her, promising she could pick up a report in a few days, Noelle headed blindly away, turning down the alley, going nowhere. Acrid smoke and ash filled her hair and stained her coat, but what difference did it make? Living above the small bistro her parents had started when she was a baby had been a no-brainer. What more did a single girl need that a cute, comfortable two-bedroom apartment did not provide? She and her parents had done just fine there, a happier family could never be found.
Even after she moved to Georgia for culinary school and stayed there afterward to take a job in a fine dining restaurant, she came home to visit at the holidays every year. She’d been on her way home the previous year when everything changed.
They’d never minded their small, cozy celebrations. Her mom was an orphan; her dad’s single mother died when he was just a teen. Unlike her friends, whose extended families filled their homes to bursting at the holidays, the three of them would sit in their front upstairs window—the bistro closed—and dine on oyster stew while listening to Christmas carols. At the table that even now was a smoking pile of sticks lying in front of the building.
Hot tears.
From behind her, the shouts of firemen finishing their job rang out, clashing with carolers and the Salvation Army Santa’s bell on the main street ahead of her. She probably should have stayed longer, but her heart had cracked in half when the fire captain informed her that the hundred-year-old building she’d lived in most of her life would be declared a total loss.
Her parents would be so ashamed of her. What a way to honor their memory. And on the same night of the year when they left this world.
She’d never have guessed Christmas could suck more than it already had. But it had reached a new low. Lost in depressing thoughts, she almost missed the sad cries from next to the charred Dumpster behind her lost business. Almost. But not quite.
“What can that…?”
A soggy cardboard box held a trio of black-and-white kittens, peering up at her from an old terrycloth towel. Who would leave babies alone in an alley on a freezing night? And then the building caught on fire…in fact, the wall had burnt through very near where she stood, leaving a pile of ash and smoldering, reeking garbage. With a cry of anguish, she shed her coat and scooped the shivering kittens into it.
Still with no idea where to go, she sped her steps toward the main street, the trio cuddled close to her body. Tabbi would know what to do. “My friend will take you babies in and find you homes, don’t worry!” Tabitha’s cat café always had room for a few more adoptables, at least she hoped so. If she could figure out how to get the kittens to Georgia.
Heck, she’d just take them on the bus herself. Not as if she had anything else to do until the insurance company released funds for her to rebuild. What if a stove burner or something set it on fire? Could she have missed it? What other explanation could there be?
Please let it be bad wiring.
What would the developer give me for the lot? Maybe coming back here was a mistake.
Dark back walls of the neighboring businesses loomed over her, matching her mood. She’d need to try to find jobs for her staff while Bistro Noelle’s doors were closed. She couldn’t ask another restaurant to take them on a temporary basis, so she would have to restaff and find a way to make a living while she rebuilt. Her meager savings wouldn’t carry her long. Not long enough.
Overwhelmed, she focused on one thing at a time. The bundles of fur wrapped in her coat. She adjusted the fabric to keep out the sleety rain beginning to fall, chilling her to the bone. But she’d last longer than they would in the cold.
“Where is your mama, kittens?” And their owner. Not that anyone who would leave them out on Christmas Eve deserved to have them back. Time to call Tabbi and get advice on what to do until she could get them safely to Café Mew.
Patting her pocket for her cell phone, she groaned. She’d left it in her bedroom, now on the ground floor of the building where she used to live. Along with her wallet, her clothes, her laptop, and everything else she owned.
She had to find someplace open that would get her and her charges out of the weather at least until morning. Even then, she couldn’t get access to any funds until the banks reopened the day after Christmas. Not without a debit card.
Bah, humbug! Scrooge had it right.
As she approached the corner, Noelle scanned the main street. She no longer heard any carols, and the single sign of the bell ringer was the tripod where his kettle would have hung. Darkened store windows no longer lit the sidewalk. Most of the upstairs apartments were rented to students from the nearby college who would be away for winter break. What would she do? The sleet penetrated her long nightie, and she shook with chills. Maybe she was destined to carry on the family tradition and die tragically on Christmas Eve. What did she have to live for anyway?
It was all gone.
At a weak mew, she shook off the thoughts of gloom and doom and lifted her chin. Just because her life lay in tatters didn’t mean the kittens didn’t deserve a chance. Peering up and down the street, she spotted a light in one upstairs window over the dry cleaner’s. If she could get someone to let her in, at least she could ask them to take care of the kittens, even if they didn’t want a stranger in their home on Christmas Eve.
Teeth chattering, she lowered her head against the storm and trudged down the cold, slippery sidewalk. Almost there…she stepped off the curb in time to be blinded by headlights from a huge car turning the corner and coming right at her.
Charles unbuttoned his coat in the warmth of the big car and fought to maintain some semblance of holiday spirit despite his plans falling through. His family would arrive for New Year’s. The predicted blizzard had grounded their flight, leaving them two hundred miles away. He’d insisted they go home rather than staying at the airport and hoping for things to open up. At least the rest of the family would be together.