Cam had been right about the meeting being contentious, but he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on the grumbles and arguments going on around him. Instead he found himself thinking about his new nurse. Her sometimes curt way of speaking, juxtaposed with her delightful throaty giggle as he listed the CIs eating habits, made her a fascinating enigma. And, yes, her delicious looks.

      Even though he wasn’t interested in relationships he was still all-male—able and willing to appreciate a beautiful face and a lovely curvy figure. As long as he remembered he could look but not touch, it was all good.

      “Melanie, the theme was decided back in February. It’s not our fault if you’ve not gotten on board with it.”

      At the sound of Dora’s firm rebuttal Cam pulled his thoughts away from Harmony Kinkaid and back to the battle of wills going on in front of him.

      “But it’s silly. We did Love as a theme before. Why do it again?”

      Melanie was as stubborn as ever, and as one of Scotland’s best-known living potters always felt her word should be law. But Dora never fell in line with that concept.

      “That was nigh on twenty years ago. And what better theme could we have for the Winter Festival than that? No matter the religion, or the holiday, love is at the center of them all, isn’t it?”

      Cam intervened, before things got too heated.

      “Melanie, you know full well it’s too late to change the theme, so either you’ve gone with it or not. The choice was yours.”

      Then Hugh Jacobson had a complaint about the decision to extend the festival hours to ten at night. “The strain on the electricity grid will increase, along with the costs. I don’t subscribe to this.”

      Cam doubted that was his real reason for complaining. Hugh was probably worried that the extra noise and lights would disturb his mother, but didn’t want to come right out and say so.

      “Hugh, the new wind turbine provides more than enough power to cover the additional load, and the generators were serviced last month. The increased revenue for us all will more than offset any additional costs, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

      “But the noise…the lights on until so late. It’s untenable.”

      “I’ll buy you some blackout curtains when I go to the mainland next Wednesday,” Sela interjected, and although Hugh still looked unhappy the meeting moved on.

      Afterwards Cam realized he wasn’t the only one thinking about Nurse Kinkaid—although, perhaps not in the same way.

      “I thought your new nurse might have come to the meeting. She looks as though she’d be a good addition to the planning team” was Dora’s opening sally.

      The last thing Cam wanted was to spend more time with Harmony Kinkaid than necessary. His unsettling reaction to her made keeping her at arm’s length a good thing. Besides, every time he’d mentioned Christmas she had withdrawn at the talk of the season.

      But there was no way he was letting Dora and the rest of the nosy CIs know that. His nurse would get no peace until they’d ferreted out the reason for her aversion.

      So, trying to protect her as best he could, he said, “First off, let her settle in a bit before you expect her to get into the middle of island life. And, secondly, she’s only going to be here for a short time. Why would you think she’d be interested?”

      “Oh, I don’t know that she will be, but it’s always nice to have a fresh face and a new viewpoint in the proceedings. I’m hoping she’ll lend a hand once she finds her feet.”

      Thankfully, before he had to think up another round of excuses as to why Harmony probably wouldn’t, Dora and the other ladies were departing with hugs and waves, according to their personal preference.

      As he strode down Main Street Cam considered the unlikely friends, each so different and yet all completely devoted to the others. They were the soul and the backbone of the Winter Festival—a point Cam had to concede, despite being almost always annoyed with their attempts to interfere in his life too.

      Their organizational skills alone were worth their collective weight in gold, but along with that they also contributed in so many other ways. Designing and sewing costumes, painting backdrops, deciding on the lighting for the public areas and the decoration of the green, making sure everyone who needed help got it… The list went on and on.

      If they’d just accept the fact that Cam wasn’t the type to be controlled or tied down, and nor would he be guilt-tripped into things, they’d all get along much better. He’d had enough of that growing up—from his mother. The last thing he needed now was to have four more women fussing over him, trying to get him to do what they thought was best.

      When he’d been diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic at the age of four, his mother’s reaction had been to coddle him, fearful of what might happen if he did any of the normal childhood activities. If it hadn’t been for his grandfather, taking him in hand at the age of eleven and teaching Cam how to control his disease, encouraging him to be more adventurous, Cam had no idea how he might have turned out.

      Nearing the cemetery, Cam instinctively turned in, walking the familiar path to the spot under a gnarled and now bare oak where a number of his ancestors were interred.

      “Evening, Grand-Da,” he said, reaching down to brush a couple of late-fallen leaves off his grandfather’s headstone. “Just left the planning meeting. All the usual nonsense for this time of year. I wonder if there’ll ever be a time where things run smoothly.”

      The bench was cold, yet dry, and the evening breeze brisk, but Cam settled in for a little visit. Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, he looked up at the sickle moon.

      “Got a new temporary nurse in today and I’m hoping she’ll work out okay.”

      He