My grandmother and I had already decided to sell the inn at the start of the new year, and she'd also agreed to no guests. I had a farm to run—into the ground—and a dreaded holiday to hibernate through. If I wanted peace and quiet till the end, that was my business. I didn't need any distractions or temptations.
What I needed was a plan.
A sly grin spread across my face. Delia Frost wouldn’t last the night.
Chapter 3
Delia
Grandma Jean pressed her ear against the bedroom door and waited until Jack’s footsteps faded down the stairs. “I think he's gone. We can talk freely now. I'm grateful the agency sent someone so quickly. I heard there was a waiting list.”
I hefted my suitcase onto the bed and placed my plant on the nightstand, before turning to the older woman. Her fine gray hair was trimmed short with soft layers, and she wore a cozy green cable-knit sweater with loose slacks. Around her neck hung an amethyst on a chain; the occult symbol for calmness and serenity. It suited her. While her grandson seemed consumed by a dark cloud, Grandma Jean was pure light.
“I'm happy to be here. We have a stellar record at the agency, and our division tries to handle as many cases as we can each holiday. Though, I have to ask since often we work undercover, how did you hear about us?”
Grandma Jean pressed her fingers around the amethyst and gave me a knowing look. “I’m the founder of the town’s Spells and Brews Ladies' Club. It’s a small group, and none of us have actual magical powers, but we do craft a mean Winter’s Moon spiced cider. It’s wonderful for stomach upsets and pleasant dreams.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“It is! Anyway, as I was saying, nothing has seemed to help my grandson’s disposition. He’s had such a difficult time after a broken engagement, and a falling out with his father. I don’t know the things that were said, but Jack walked away from everything and didn’t return to Wood Pine until after his father’s death last year—at Christmastime, of course. It’s been downhill ever since. Drastic measures were needed, so I put out some feelers, and through word of mouth, I received a business card. After I sent in my letter, I crossed my fingers.”
“Well, it’s nice to have an ally. This is my first official Scrooge case.” It was my first case altogether, but she didn’t need to know that.
Grandma Jean laughed. “It’s that bad, isn't it? Jack could give Ebenezer a run for his money. He hates this holiday through and through. If he even suspects you’re trying to change his mind, he’ll revolt and make your life miserable. I wasn't supposed to allow any guests this season, so there's already a mark against you.”
I waved her away with an eye roll and tapped the top of my suitcase containing my mystical bag of tricks. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle anything Jack throws my way. Plus, I have a game plan. Your grandson won’t even know what hit him. When we’re through, he'll be a Christmas convert. It’s our agency guarantee.”
“You’ll have your hands full for sure. But if you need anything, let me know. I’ll let you settle in. Dinner’s at six. I hope you like meatloaf.”
“I do, and if you’re up to it, I’d love to try a little of that spiced cider.”
“I’d be honored to make some.” Grandma Jean slipped through the door, shutting it softly behind her.
Once alone, I let out a tired groan and collapsed onto the bed. Nerves and excitement churned in my stomach, and I wasn’t kidding about the spiced cider. Magic potion or not, I needed all the help I could get.
Jack was exactly what his file had depicted, yet at the same time, he was so much more. Sure, he did his photo justice, looking like he’d stepped out of a rugged outdoorsmen catalog, but he also had a dry sense of humor that I found appealing. Somewhere under all that bluster and cynicism was the true Jack. The one that existed before misfortune and tragedy got in the way.
It was my job to heal those wounds, and nothing mended a scarred heart like newfound love. It could breathe life into even the coldest soul. Thankfully, my case file already contained the perfect candidate.
Not everyone in town avoided Jack like he was a radioactive snowman. There was one hopeful contender for Jack's heart: the sweet, but shy local pastry chef, who also harbored a tiny crush. At least she used to. Considering Jack’s dismal disposition, I might need to fan the flames—or light the match all over again. Whatever it took. I planned to melt Jack’s icy heart one way or another.
Professionally. Of course.
It shouldn't be too hard. I had a bunch of classic meet cutes and magical romantic entanglements to cast their way. There was a formula for this type of thing. Throw in a witchy matchmaker and it was a sure bet.
Let him try to stop me.
***
After dinner and a long hot bath, I settled in for the night in front of my laptop. Next to me was a cup of spiced cider and a small fruit and cheese plate Grandma Jean must have delivered while I was in the bathroom. I popped a grape into my mouth and clicked open Jack's file. He hadn't graced our presence for dinner, but that was fine. It gave me a chance to visit with Grandma Jean. She filled me in a little more about their situation, and we discussed the best way to lure Jack into town.
The local bakery wasn’t open until the day after tomorrow, so I had some time to kill. But it would be nice to explore the grounds and have a chance to study my grumpy subject and learn his quirks.
I stretched the kinks from my neck and whipped off an email to Sage, letting her know I’d arrived. Darkness had settled over the farm, and with it came a kind of quiet I wasn’t used to. It was almosttooquiet…andcold.I shivered and slid the computer off my lap, searching the room for the source of the chill. Was the heater broken? It hadn’t been this bad when I checked in.
The room itself was cozy with extra blankets folded at the edge of the bed and thick drapes hanging in front of a sliding glass door. But that was where the chilly air was coming from. I shuffled across the room and pushed back the curtains. The balcony door was wide open, and a huge blast of icy air hit me in the face.
Winter tears stung the corners of my eyes as I stepped outside onto the balcony and peered into the dark yard. There were no lights, and I could just make out the faint silhouettes of trees dotting the landscape. Nothing moved. The night seemed peaceful and still. But suspicion tingled the back of my neck.
