Chapter 6 Jane
JANE
Jane stood on the small ladder, her back aching slightly, but she ignored the pain, securing another strand of garland across the ballroom’s upper windows, trying to keep her attention focused on the task at hand.
The afternoon light slanted through the tall windows, casting warm patterns across the polished floor below.
She’d been working steadily since the group had returned from their morning outing in St. Augustine, grateful for the distraction of physical labor.
Except she couldn’t quite manage to stay distracted.
Gabe sat in the corner of the ballroom, his injured foot propped up on a second chair that Holly had insisted he use.
A table beside him overflowed with tangled strings of Christmas lights and boxes of replacement bulbs.
Holly and Julie had given him the task of unknotting the massive strings and testing each strand for burnt-out bulbs before they could be hung.
Jane kept admonishing herself not to glance in his direction. She failed repeatedly.
Something about him unsettled her. Not in a bad way exactly. Just unsettling in a way that made her chest feel tight and her hands slightly unsteady on the garland she was draping. He made her feel things she’d buried three years ago. Things she’d promised herself she’d never feel again.
It was safer not to look. Safer to focus on the garland, the decorations, and the endless list of tasks that still need completing before Christmas Eve.
“Jane, should these go with the silver ornaments or the gold ones?” Trinity’s voice pulled her attention back to the present.
The two girls sat at one of the round tables they’d pushed against the wall, sorting ornaments by color and size with the kind of earnest concentration that made Jane’s heart squeeze.
Their chatter filled the ballroom with warmth, a pleasant background noise that made the space feel less cavernous and more alive.
“The silver ones go on the tree by the entrance,” Jane said, climbing down from the ladder carefully. “The gold ones are for the tree by the stage.”
“Got it!” Maddy made a note on the clipboard they’d been using to track their organizational system.
These girls were remarkably organized for twelve-year-olds.
Jane found herself relaxing slightly around their enthusiasm, their genuine excitement about reviving traditions they’d only just learned about.
They asked questions constantly. How did the inn use to celebrate?
What did the decorations look like? What songs did people sing?
Jane answered as best she could, drawing on memories Gran had shared and old photographs she’d found in the family archives. It felt good to talk about the inn’s history, to honor what had been while working to restore it.
Christopher worked near the stage, hanging lights along the proscenium arch with steady hands. He whistled softly as he worked, some tune Jane didn’t quite recognize. He seemed content, energized even, despite having spent the entire morning out with two excited pre-teens.
Jane noticed how he kept glancing toward the ballroom doors, like he was waiting for someone.
Isabella, probably. Everyone could see what was developing between those two except maybe them.
The way Christopher’s entire face softened when Isabella entered a room.
The way Isabella’s cheeks flushed pink whenever he smiled at her.
It was sweet. Terrifying, but sweet.
The ballroom doors opened, and as if Jane’s thoughts had summoned her, Isabella appeared. She looked harried and apologetic, her hair slightly disheveled and flour still dusting one sleeve of her shirt.
“I’m so sorry, but I have to cancel going with you tonight,” Isabella said without preamble.
Everyone stopped what they were doing. Trinity and Maddy looked up from their ornament sorting. Christopher turned from the lights he’d been hanging. Gabe glanced up from the string of lights he’d been methodically untangling.
Jane felt guilty relief flood through her, followed immediately by shame at feeling relieved. What kind of person was she, glad that someone else’s emergency meant she wouldn’t have to spend an evening in close quarters with Gabe?
“What happened?” Christopher asked, already moving toward Isabella with concern evident in his voice.
“The Seaside Inn down the road is desperate,” Isabella explained, wringing her hands.
“Their chef called in sick, and they have a huge dinner rush tonight for a holiday party. They called asking if I could help.” She looked genuinely distressed.
“I have to leave now because I’ll be doing everything myself. Their prep cook is out, too.”
“I’ll be your prep cook,” Christopher said without hesitation.
Isabella blinked at him. “What?”
“I can slice and dice,” Christopher said, moving closer to her. “You need help, and I’m offering.”
Jane watched something pass between them. Something warm, certain, and utterly transparent. These two were falling for each other so obviously that Jane almost wanted to look away from the intimacy of it.
“I think that’s a marvelous idea, Christopher.” Julie’s voice announced her presence before Jane saw her.
Her grandmother materialized from the doorway like a silent ninja, carrying yet another box of lights, because apparently Julie Christmas had an endless supply of Christmas decorations hidden somewhere in this inn.
Jane had long since stopped questioning where Gran found things.
Perhaps it was a magic bag like Mary Poppins’ bag.
Her eyes narrowed. Her gran could possibly be Mary Poppins, as she always popped up right on cue.
She shook the thought away and turned back to her task, trying not to pay any heed to what was going on.
“Chris, you sure?” Gabe asked, skepticism clear in his voice. “You’ve never worked in a professional kitchen before.”
Julie waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just slicing and dicing. How hard can it be?”
Christopher looked at Isabella with a soft smile that made Jane’s chest ache with something she didn’t want to examine. “That’s something I can do. I’m in.” He paused. “If you’ll have me.”
Pink rose in Isabella’s cheeks, and she seemed to lose the ability to form complete sentences. “Yes. Thank you. That would be wonderful. I mean, really helpful. I mean...” She trailed off, looking flustered in a way that was utterly charming.
Christopher’s grin widened. “Great. When do we leave?”
“Now, actually,” Isabella said, then turned to where Maddy sat with Trinity. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you were so excited about the carriage rides tonight.”
Maddy’s face fell, disappointment clear in her expression.
“She can still come with us,” Gabe said immediately from his corner. “It’s no problem at all.”
Maddy’s face lit up like someone had plugged her into an electrical socket.
“Are you sure?” Isabella asked, hesitation evident in her voice, her eyes moving to Jane and then back to Gabe. “I don’t want to impose on your family time.”
“Not at all,” Gabe assured her. “The more the merrier.” His eyes caught Jane’s for a second, and her breath lodged in her throat before she glanced away.
“Maybe Trinity can stay with us tonight?” Isabella looked questioningly at Gabe. “After the carriage rides? Maddy’s been asking to have her over?”
“Of course,” Gabe said without hesitation and looked at his daughter. “What do you think, sweetpea?”
The words were barely out of his mouth before both girls squealed with excitement and rushed to hug him. Trinity kissed his cheek while Maddy threw her arms around his neck with twelve-year-old exuberance. “Yes, yes, thank you, Dad.”
Julie beamed like she’d orchestrated this entire scenario herself. Knowing Gran, she probably had, Jane mused to herself.
Jane watched all of this unfold, trying to appear disinterested even as her mind raced. This was her chance. Her opportunity to escape the evening she’d been dreading since Trinity had first extended the invitation.
“Or we could go another night?” Jane suggested, trying to sound casual instead of desperate. “I mean, if Isabella can’t make it, maybe we should reschedule when everyone can go together.”
“Nonsense,” Julie said immediately, and Jane felt her escape route slam shut. “I’m sure Isabella doesn’t want that, do you, dear?”
Julie looked at Isabella with an expression that clearly communicated the expected answer.
“No, please don’t cancel on my account,” Isabella said, giving Jane a warm smile that made the guilt twist deeper in her stomach.
“You need a night off, Jane. You’ve been working so hard on this ballroom.
” She turned to Gabe. “We’ll be back at the inn by the time you get home, and I’ll collect the girls then. ”
Excitement erupted. Trinity and Maddy immediately started planning what to pack for the sleepover, their voices overlapping as they discussed movies, snacks, and whether they could stay up late.
Jane stood trapped by her own politeness, by Julie’s obvious matchmaking, and by the simple fact that backing out now would be obvious and rude. She forced a smile that felt brittle on her face.
“Sounds great,” she said, and the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.
An hour later, Jane locked the ballroom doors behind her and walked quickly through the inn toward the private entrance that connected to the Christmas family’s house.
The separation between the inn and their personal space had always felt important.
A boundary between the public face they showed guests and the private lives they led.
Right now, that boundary felt like salvation.
She entered her bedroom and closed the door, leaning against it with her eyes shut. What had she just agreed to? An evening alone with Gabe. Well, the girls would be there, but they were twelve. They’d be so wrapped up in their own excitement that Jane and Gabe would essentially be alone together.
Her heart hammered against her ribs for reasons she absolutely refused to examine.
Jane pushed away from the door and headed for the bathroom. A shower. That’s what she needed. Something to wash away the nervous energy that had been building in her chest since the moment she’d agreed to this outing.
The water ran hot, steam filling the small bathroom until the mirror fogged over completely.
Jane stood under the spray and tried to convince herself that she shouldn’t feel excited.
Shouldn’t feel anything at all. She’d closed that part of her heart three years ago.
It was safer that way. Easier. You couldn’t lose what you didn’t have.
But the water couldn’t wash away the nervous energy thrumming through her veins.
Couldn’t erase the memory of Gabe’s quiet competence as he’d untangled lights all afternoon.
Couldn’t make her forget the tender way he’d looked at Trinity, the fierce protectiveness in his eyes when he’d offered to include Maddy in their evening.
Jane turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel, staring at her reflection in the slowly clearing mirror.
She looked the same as always. Dark hair plastered to her head.
Eyes that her father used to say could see straight through to a person’s soul.
The same face she’d been seeing in mirrors her whole life.
Except something felt different tonight.
She walked to her closet and stood there, wrapped in her towel, staring at the contents as if they held the answers to questions she wasn’t ready to ask.
Usually, she didn’t care what she wore. Jeans and a sweater, maybe a nicer shirt if they had important guests checking in. Functional. Practical. Done.
Tonight felt different.
Jane pulled out option after option. The blue sweater was too casual. The burgundy one was too dressy. The black one made her look like she was going to a funeral. Why did it matter? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
Except it did.
She finally settled on dark jeans and a soft green sweater that Gran had once told her brought out her eyes. She left her hair down instead of pulling it back in her usual ponytail and applied minimal makeup with hands that were definitely not shaking.
She was just being presentable. That was all. Nothing more.
The lie felt obvious even to herself.