Chapter 7 Jane
JANE
By the time Jane made her way back to the inn’s lobby, she’d almost convinced herself that she could handle this evening with grace and composure. Then she saw Gabe standing near the entrance with Trinity and Maddy, and her carefully constructed composure cracked.
He looked unfairly handsome in dark jeans and a long-sleeve Henley, charcoal in color that did interesting things to his broad shoulders. He’d thrown a bomber jacket over it, and his dark hair was slightly damp, like he’d recently showered. He’d cleaned up very nicely.
Too nicely.
Jane’s mouth went dry.
The girls chattered excitedly, oblivious to the turmoil of emotions churning inside Jane. They were dressed warmly for the evening carriage ride, both wearing jeans and thick sweaters with jackets already on.
“Jane!” Trinity spotted her first and waved enthusiastically. “We’re so excited! This is going to be so much fun!”
“I’m sure it will be,” Jane managed, her voice coming out steadier than she felt.
Gabe’s gaze found hers, and something flickered in his expression before he looked away. “I’m taking my mother’s car,” he explained, gesturing to where Holly’s sedan sat in the parking lot. “With this boot, I probably shouldn’t be driving, but it’s automatic, so...”
“I can drive,” Jane heard herself offer before her brain caught up with her mouth.
Gabe looked relieved and surprised in equal measure. “You sure? I mean, with my foot and everything...” He gestured to the medical boot.
“It’s not a problem,” Jane said, more firmly than she felt. At least driving would give her something concrete to focus on. The road. Traffic. Navigation. Not the man sitting in the passenger seat beside her. “Really.”
“Thank you,” Gabe said, and the genuine gratitude in his voice made her chest feel tight. “I appreciate it.”
The drive to St. Augustine should have felt longer than it did.
Jane kept her hands tight on the steering wheel, hyperaware of every movement, every sound.
The girls chattered in the back seat, their excitement barely contained.
They discussed which streets they hoped the carriage would take them down, which buildings they most wanted to see lit up, and whether they’d see any street performers.
Gabe sat in the passenger seat, and Jane could feel his presence, as if it were something physical pressing against her awareness.
He gave occasional directions even though Jane knew the way to the historic district by heart.
His voice was low and pleasant, and it made something warm unfurl in her chest that she immediately tried to push back down.
This was just a carriage ride. Just an evening helping entertain two excited pre-teens. Nothing more.
She repeated that to herself like a mantra as she navigated through the evening traffic into St. Augustine.
They parked near the historic district where the carriage companies kept their staging areas. The evening air was cool when they climbed out of the car, not quite cold but crisp enough to make the Christmas lights that were beginning to glow seem even more magical.
Trinity and Maddy raced ahead toward where several horse-drawn carriages waited, their excitement bubbling over into delighted squeals as they saw the horses decked out in festive gear.
Gabe limped slightly despite the medical boot as they followed at a more sedate pace. Jane found herself slowing her natural stride without consciously deciding to, matching his pace automatically.
He noticed. Of course, he noticed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks.”
“Your foot okay?” Jane asked before she could stop herself.
“It’s fine,” Gabe said. “Just stiff from sitting all afternoon unknotting those lights. Nothing serious.”
They reached the carriage staging area, and Jane could see why the girls were so excited.
Each carriage had lanterns glowing on either side, casting warm pools of golden light.
The horses wore bells that jingled softly with every movement.
Everything looked like something from a Victorian Christmas card.
“Four for the historic district tour?” the driver asked, approaching them with a welcoming smile.
“Yes, please,” Gabe confirmed.
The driver helped them board, and Trinity and Maddy immediately scrambled to sit together on one bench, already chattering about what they hoped to see. That left Jane and Gabe to share the other bench.
An awkward moment stretched between them. They both hesitated, neither quite moving to claim the space first. Then Gabe gestured with old-fashioned courtesy. “After you.”
Jane climbed into the carriage and settled onto the bench, acutely aware of the limited space. This was not a large carriage. The benches were designed for couples sitting close together, not for two people trying to maintain a careful distance.
Gabe followed, and his leg brushed against hers as he settled into the seat. They both pulled away slightly at the contact, as if they’d touched something electric.
“Sorry,” Gabe muttered.
“No, it’s fine,” Jane said quickly.
The driver clicked to the horses, and the carriage lurched forward gently.
The lanterns swayed with the movement, casting dancing shadows across the interior.
The historic streets of St. Augustine unfolded before them like something from a fairy tale.
Every building was draped in lights. Every window glowed with warm illumination.
It was that magic hour when day met night, when the world transformed into something special.
Trinity and Maddy pressed against their side of the carriage, pointing at decorations and exclaiming over particularly beautiful displays. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and Jane felt some of her tension begin to ease.
The driver pointed out landmarks as they passed, his voice carrying easily in the quiet evening air.
He told them about how the Spanish settlers had celebrated Christmas in the fifteen hundreds, about how the tradition of lighting the city had begun over thirty years ago and had grown into one of the largest light displays in the country.
Trinity asked questions constantly, her curiosity pulling both adults into the conversation. Jane found herself relaxing slightly as they discussed history and traditions. These were safe topics. Easy topics. Things she could talk about without feeling like the ground might shift beneath her feet.
“You know a lot about the city’s history,” Gabe observed at one point.
“I grew up here.” Jane shrugged, keeping her gaze on the lit buildings passing by. “Gran made sure we knew. She used to say you can’t honor traditions if you don’t know where they came from.”
Gabe nodded thoughtfully. “That’s wise. Trinity’s like that, too. She wants to know the story behind everything.”
A brief look passed between them. Understanding. Both of them valued history, tradition, and roots. Before Jane could examine the warmth that understanding brought, Maddy asked a question about a building they were passing, and the moment broke.
But the warmth lingered.
The driver stopped at a small café, giving them time to stretch their legs and warm up with hot cocoa. Trinity and Maddy immediately spotted a shop window next door displaying ornaments, toys, and holiday decorations that made them gasp with delight.
“Can we look?” Trinity asked, already pulling Maddy toward the window.
“Stay where we can see you,” Gabe warned, his father-voice coming out automatically.
The girls promised and ran off, leaving Jane and Gabe alone for the first time all evening.
They stood side by side at the outdoor window of the café, waiting for their cocoa orders. Jane was acutely aware of how close he stood, how she could smell his cologne. Something woodsy and clean that made her want to lean closer rather than maintain proper distance.
Gabe broke the silence first. “Thank you for doing this. Trinity’s been so happy here at the inn.” He paused, and when Jane glanced at him, she saw genuine emotion in his expression. “It’s clear she adores you.”
Despite the walls Jane had built around her heart, she couldn’t help but respond to the gratitude in his voice. “She’s a wonderful girl. You should be proud.”
“I am proud,” Gabe said, and his voice carried a weight of guilt beneath the words. “It’s just hard being away so much. Missing things. Important things.”
“She understands,” Jane heard herself say, surprising herself with the reassurance. She didn’t usually offer comfort to virtual strangers. But Gabe didn’t feel like a stranger somehow. “She’s proud of you, too. She talks about you constantly.”
“It’s hard,” Gabe said quietly, staring at the menu board without really seeing it. “Being a parent. Trying to do the right thing when you’re never quite sure what the right thing is.”
A brief moment of understanding passed between them. Both of them had lost spouses. Both carried grief like stones in their pockets, weight they’d learned to walk with but never quite set down. It wasn’t mentioned. Didn’t need to be. It underlay everything, the way loss always did.
The weight of it. Trying to move forward when part of your heart remains buried with the person you’d lost.
Trinity and Maddy came running back before Jane could examine the feeling too closely, their faces bright with excitement.
“They have snow globes!” Maddy announced. “Real ones with St. Augustine scenes inside them!”
Gabe’s smile came easier now, the heaviness lifting from his expression. “Want to get one?”
Both girls nodded eagerly, and he gestured for them to lead the way.
“I’ll watch the cocoa,” Jane offered, grateful for a moment alone to catch her breath and settle her racing heart.
By the time they returned with carefully wrapped snow globes, Jane had almost managed to rebuild her composure. Almost.