Fireside by Susan Wiggs (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author

SUSAN WIGGS

“With the ease of a master, Wiggs introduces complicated, flesh-and-blood characters into her idyllic but identifiable small-town setting, sets in motion a refreshingly honest romance…and even finds room for a little mystery.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Winter Lodge (starred review, on Best Books of 2007 list)

“Wiggs is one of our best observers of stories of the heart.…She knows how to capture emotion on virtually every page of every book.”

—Salem Statesman-Journal

“Wiggs explores many aspects of grief, from guilt to anger to regret, imbuing her book with the classic would’ve/could’ve/should’ve emotions, and presenting realistic and sympathetic characters…another excellent title [in] her already outstanding body of work.”

—Booklist on Table for Five (starred review)

“Rich with life lessons, nod-along moments and characters with whom readers can easily relate. Delightful and wise, Wiggs’s latest shines.”

—Publishers Weekly on Dockside

“Susan Wiggs writes with bright assurance, humor and compassion about sisters, children and the sweet and heartbreaking trials of life—about how much better it is to go through them together.”

—Luanne Rice

“Emotionally intense…”

—Booklist on The Winter Lodge

“[A] delightful romp…With its lively prose, well-developed conflict and passionate characters, this enjoyable, poignant tale is certain to enchant.”

—Publishers Weekly on Halfway to Heaven (starred review)

“A human and multilayered story exploring duty to both country and family.”

—Nora Roberts on The Ocean Between Us

Also by

SUSAN WIGGS

Contemporary Romances

JUST BREATHE

LAKESIDE COTTAGE

TABLE FOR FIVE

SUMMER BY THE SEA

THE OCEAN BETWEEN US

HOME BEFORE DARK

PASSING THROUGH PARADISE

Lakeshore Chronicles

SNOWFALL AT WILLOW LAKE

DOCKSIDE

THE WINTER LODGE

SUMMER AT WILLOW LAKE

Historical Romances

THE DRIFTER

THE LIGHTKEEPER

Chicago Fire Trilogy

THE FIREBRAND

THE MISTRESS

THE HOSTAGE

Calhoun Chronicles

A SUMMER AFFAIR

ENCHANTED AFTERNOON

HALFWAY TO HEAVEN

THE HORSEMASTER’S DAUGHTER

THE CHARM SCHOOL

SUSAN WIGGS

FIRESIDE

This book is for my friend Lois, with love.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my own personal brain trust—Anjali Banerjee, Carol Cassella, Sheila Roberts, Suzanne Selfors, Elsa Watson, Kate Breslin, Lois Faye Dyer, Rose Marie Harris, Patty Jough-Haan, Susan Plunkett and Krysteen Seelen—wonderful writers and even better friends.

Thanks to Mr. David Boyle, president and co-owner of the New Haven County Cutters, for information regarding Independent Baseball and the Can-Am League.

Thanks also to Margaret O’Neill Marbury and Adam Wilson of MIRA Books, Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey of the Jane Rotrosen Agency, for invaluable advice and input. Thanks to my publisher and readers for supporting the Lakeshore Chronicles and for coming back to Avalon again and again.

With every word I write, I’m grateful to my family—the reason for everything.

Dear Reader,

There are many ways to make a family, and that’s really the essence of the LAKESHORE CHRONICLES books. As each story ends, a new one unfolds. The one element they all have in common is the key ingredient that makes everything hold together—love. I deeply appreciate the readers who have been so supportive of these books.

Later this year, Christmas comes to Avalon in a new hardcover novel. In Lakeshore Christmas, bad-boy rocker Eddie Haven teams up with Maureen Davenport, the town librarian, to direct the annual Christmas pageant. Please look for Lakeshore Christmas in bookstores in October 2009.

Happy reading,

Susan Wiggs

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

One

LaGuardia Airport

Concourse C

Gate 21

The dark glasses didn’t hide a thing, not really. When people saw someone in dark glasses on a cloudy day in the middle of winter, they assumed the wearer was hiding the fact that she’d been drinking, crying or fighting.

Or all of the above.

Under any number of circumstances, Kimberly van Dorn enjoyed being the center of attention. Last night, when she’d donned her couture gown with its scandalous slit up the side, turning heads had been the whole idea. She’d had no idea the evening would implode the way it had. How could she?

Now, at the end of a soul-flattening redeye flight, she kept her shades on as the plane touched down and taxied to the Jetway. Coach. She never flew coach. Last night, however, first class had been sold out, personal comfort had taken a back seat to expediency, and she’d found herself in seat 29-E in the middle of the middle section of the plane, wedged between strangers. Sometimes the need to get away was more powerful than the need for legroom. Although her stiff legs this morning might argue that point.

Who the hell had designed coach class, anyway? She was convinced she had the imprint of her seatmate’s ear on her shoulder. After his fourth beer, he kept falling asleep, his head lolling onto her. What was worse than a man with a lolling head?

A man with a lolling head and beer breath, she thought grimly, trying to shake off the torturous transcontinental night. But the memories lingered like the ache in her legs—the lolling guy with a snoring problem, and, on her other side, an impossibly chatty older gentleman, who talked for hours about his insomnia. And his bursitis. And his lousy son-in-law, his fondness for fried sweet potatoes and his dislike of the Jude Law movie Kim was pretending to watch in hopes of getting him to shut up.

No wonder she never flew coach. Yet the nightmare flight was not the worst thing that had happened to her lately. Far from it.

She stood in the aisle, waiting for the twenty-eight rows ahead of her to deplane. The process seemed endless as people rummaged in the overhead bins, gathering their things while talking on mobile phones.

She took