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Chapter One
Xander Mac iscoming home.
If Bonnie Callaghan saw those words one more time, she was going to scream. Every blank wall in the small town of Kurrajong Crossing had a poster declaring the golden boy was coming back. As if he’d ever left. To her knowledge he dropped into town every couple of months to check up on his grandparents. The only reason he hadn’t been in town recently was an extended tour of Canada and the United States. He’d finished the tour with an appearance at Music City Center in Nashville at the beginning of June.
His next gig was Xander Mac and the Highlanders in concert as the culmination of the Christmas in July celebrations here at the Crossing. Not that she’d been following his career. Living at the Highland Inn—his grandparents’ bed and breakfast—she had all the gossip about his doings spoon-fed to her over the breakfast table. And the lunch table. And the dinner table. Florence and Donald MacDonald absolutely doted on their grandson.
He hadn’t even arrived in town yet and she was sick of hearing about him. Bonnie remembered him as chubby Alex MacDonald whose only claim to fame was winning the solo violin section in the eisteddfod three years running. That was before he’d switched to guitar, joined the gym, and grown his hair out from the crewcut Flo inflicted on him.
She mentally rolled her eyes and tightened the scarf around her throat. She could barely see across the mall, the leaden sky obliterated by precipitation. Tonight’s event was seriously under threat if the weather continued to worsen. Sleet battered the boardwalk along the lakeside, stinging like grains of rice against her cheek. It was a relief to reach the warm interior of the cupcake shop. The smell of cake and coffee was divine. A pity she couldn’t have the cakes and had no time for the coffee.
“Your order is ready to go.”
Bonnie smiled an acknowledgement at the owner as she took off her gloves. Cat van Alden had a Marilyn Monroe vibe going, apart from her dark hair. She always looked immaculate. Bonnie resisted the temptation to take off her beanie and check her braids were still intact. There would be guaranteed hat hair happening. Her nose was probably pink from the cold, and the rest of her skin most likely blue.
“It’s freezing outside. Do you think they’ll still be able to do the tree-lighting ceremony?”
Cat squinted through the window. “It could clear later, according to the weather report. I think they’ll decide mid-afternoon. It won’t be nearly as much fun at the community centre.”
Tapping the inn’s credit card for the box of cakes, Bonnie agreed. “Hopefully the threat of more snow won’t keep people at home. The B&B is booked out and Mallory Jayne tells me she’s had to turn people away.”
“Has Xander Mac arrived?”
Repressing an inward shudder, Bonnie shook her head. “Not when I came out an hour ago.”
“He’s doing a half hour set at the tree lighting tonight isn’t he? Give people a taste for the big fundraising concert.”
“So I’m told.” Over and over again.
Another customer came in and Bonnie tugged her gloves back on and picked up the box. She would have preferred an excuse to stay and chat, but she needed to get back to the B&B to prepare lunch. Although, if Xander Mac was flavour of the month, a chat would overload her Xander tolerance.
*
Back at theHighland Inn, Bonnie transferred the cakes into a sealed container and placed them in the pantry. They made a nice addition to the picnic baskets the inn supplied to guests on request. She could cook cakes for the visitors herself, but it hardly seemed worth it when she could get them made and Cat always gave her a good deal for bulk. She said it was good advertising. Which was true, if the number of customers asking where to stock up on the cupcakes for their trip home was any indication.
Satisfied with her preparations, she looked around at the kitchen. It had been upgraded over five years ago with money Xander gave to his grandparents after his first album went platinum. Flo had asked Bonnie to help with the design and it was pretty much her ideal kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel and copper and all to code.
She’d been employed here years ago part time to help Flo with the cooking, so it had been a logical choice for the couple to ask her to come back when Flo broke her wrist. Being responsible for the running of the whole B&B was a different level of responsibility, even with Flo available in an advisory capacity. It would certainly look good on her CV for the future.
The rest of the inn was decorated in a country-house style, making good use of the beautiful timber panelling and stairs, lightening the whole with floral soft furnishings and curtains. The dining room had been furnished with mismatched wooden tables and chairs, collected from sales or auctions and beautifully restored by Don over the years. It was surprisingly popular with some of the wedding groups looking for that rural ambiance.
There were a couple of residents having lunch in house; most of the guests were off touring the district or trying the numerous eateries in the popular tourist region. The wineries were widespread and several of them had restaurants attached. When she’d arrived home three months ago, after being away for nearly four years, she’d been surprised by how many changes had occurred in the town as it geared up to be a premier holiday destination. It was still home, though. She’d missed it even in the excitement of travelling to new places.
Having served the two solitary diners a rich minestrone soup with crusty bread from the local bakery, and preparing hot drinks for them, Bonnie set a tray with the same meal for Flo and Don, taking it through to the flatette where the older couple lived, at the back of the large house.
“Are you eating with us?” Flo inquired as Don tucked into the soup. Flo was more tentative, still struggling to use her left hand with the other in a cast.
“I ate in the kitchen, while I was making the coffee.”
Flo brightened. “Is that foreign-looking gentleman still here?”
“Mr Tsiarkas? Yes, he was having lunch.”
“He’s so odd. I almost never see him go out during the day, only at night.”
Bonnie suppressed a smile. It was no wonder Flo flourished in her chosen career. She was an inveterate but kindly gossip with a passionate interest in other people. It must be stressing her out to have to take things easy. Once the doctor gave her the go-ahead, she’d be back on deck with her maternal interest in all the guests. “He’s not foreign. He speaks with an Australian accent.”
Her spoon halfway to her mouth, Flo paused. “Do you know where he goes at night?”
