“But the farm has been in your family for generations,” Susan said.
“Yeah, there’s still hope, Jean. Hold out for a Christmas miracle.”
Grandma Jean met my gaze. “Things will happen exactly as they are meant to be. I have faith in that.”
My throat tightened with emotion. Grandma Jean was counting on me. I couldn’t let her down. But I also couldn’t promise her Jack would keep the farm. Now that Simon was here with his new case, everything was up in the air. Though, maybe a fresh start had always been the intention. Sometimes you have to let go of the past to make way for the future.
Reaching across the sofa, I squeezed her hand. In the short time I’d been in Wood Pine, I’d realized how much I enjoyed the small-town feel, and the sense of family, even a fractured one because I could tell beneath it all, there was happiness here, and love. It was something missing in my life, even as I’d tried to chase my own dreams and find someone to share them with.
In our line of work, we were constantly seeing the effects of miracles, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to experience a little of that magic for myself. Looking around the room, I could see myself in this club, hosting my own witchy meeting surrounded by delicious snacks and good friends. The scariest truth of all was the possibility I was settling for things that looked good on paper, but in reality, were just as thin.
Behind us, the door creaked open, and I heard Jack’s deep voice over the sound of holiday music.
“Ladies, how come my ears are burning?”
Susan laughed and reached for an empty cup. She poured him some of her eggnog, then swayed to the music in his direction. “Darling, we were just enjoying a cocktail while discussing all of your most charming qualities. Please, join us.”
“Liars, all of you. Especially you.” Jack accepted the glass and pointed the cinnamon stick in my direction.
I shrugged and sipped my cocktail. Grandma Jean rose from the sofa and swirled her finger in the air as if she were rounding up a herd of cats. The ladies all looked at each other with shrewd glances. Judy yawned and reached for her purse. Susan downed her eggnog and swayed into the kitchen. The rest of the group followed, leaving the half-filled punch bowl, and what was left of the snacks.
“So much for my charming qualities.” Jack looked over his shoulder, but the group was gone, their voices fading.
“Seriously, I’ve never seen a room clear that fast.”
“You’re still here, though.”
“Bum ankle. I can’t move as fast.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Maybe these will help.” Jack stepped into the room and hovered near the edge of the sofa. His hand was behind his back, hiding something. “I couldn’t find a pair of Grandma Jean’s that would work. So I went out tonight and found these. They’re yours if they fit. And if not, I still have the receipt.”
With a hesitant move, Jack revealed a pair of thick winter boots. They looked cozy and well-insulated with rubber soles to keep out the snow.
My heart swelled, and I couldn’t hide my cheesy grin as I reached for them, letting my fingers slide over the soft fur inside. My voice wavered. “I bet these get great traction.”
“Yeah, for those spots where people don’t put down enough rock salt. It’s a real nuisance around here. Someone should say something.”
I choked on a laugh as I tried them on, slipping my foot into the soft lining. They were perfect. Easily the nicest pair I’d ever owned.
“Thank you, Jack. I love them.”
It was his turn to shrug, but I could tell he was pleased. I tapped the seat next to me and waited for him to sit down. A nervous flutter danced in my stomach. The last time we were in the living room together we’d almost kissed. I was playing a risky game. But I wasn’t ready for the night to end. If possible, I wanted it to go on forever, or maybe I could wake up tomorrow and have it start all over like one of those Groundhog Day time loops.
Just for a little while,I promised myself.
Taking a deep sip from my eggnog, I hoped some of Susan’s liquid courage would help calm my nerves. Jack was sitting so close, I could feel the heat from his body. His knee brushed mine, and in a bid to distract ourselves, we both leaned forward to take the last sugar cookie.
“You can have it,” he said, lifting his fingers from mine. But it was too late, my skin was already tingling from his touch.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, breaking the heart-shaped cookie with red icing and white sugar sprinkles in half. Maybe the rum was going to my head or maybe it was too much sugar, but the way Jack looked at me when I handed him the broken heart made my pulse jump.
Leaning back against the cushion, I cleared my throat and tried to break the friction simmering in the air.
“Wow, you must hate this, holiday songs by a warm fire while sharing the last Christmas cookie. What a nightmare.”
Jack’s voice was rough around the edges. “Yeah, it’s horrible. I may never recover.”
The fire snapped and popped, giving off waves of delicious heat.
