The temperature on Christmas Day in Southwest Florida where I live was in the mid-80s, so reading about snow, ice skating, and the like was a welcome diversion. Lori Wilde’s I’ll Be Home for Christmas was just the right choice to remind me how Christmas used to be back when I still lived in Pennsylvania.
And I always enjoy books set in small towns like Twilight, Texas, where all the folks are welcoming and all the men are good-looking. Personally, I’ve yet to find such a town in real life, but hope springs eternal.
Gabi Preston is cuteness personified. Every time she gets stressed out, she gets a case of the hiccups. Not a good trait for someone who will one day be facing judges and juries for a living. She’s tried all the old wives’ cures; however, the only cure that seems to work for her is a kiss from Christmas tree farmer Joe Cheek. Go figure.
Gabi and Joe are both almost too good to be true, but I guess that is de rigeur in a holiday tale. She happily transitions from an L.A. condo to a borrowed yurt; he’ll do anything for a daughter he was tricked into thinking was his and forego resenting his ex.
The obstacles to an HEA are pretty substantial and should have been harder to overcome, but somehow they are as easily tied up as a Christmas bow by the novel’s end. A minor quibble. Overall, this one is as feel-good as Christmas in a snow globe, and that’s enough.