The sliding door had not been open when I went down for dinner. I shoved it closed, using all my upper body strength to force it back into place. That would have been the end of it, except my gaze landed on the floor, catching sight of a muddy boot print. A man’s size eleven, at least. Unless the inn was haunted by a mischievous ghost I could wrangle into reenacting scenes from A Christmas Carol, the boot print had to be Jack’s.
According to Grandma Jean, Jack had wanted to close the inn early for the season, preferring to keep the house empty and devoid of tradition. But if that man thought he could send me packing from a little chill in the air, then he was sorely mistaken. I’d sleep wearing a hat and mittens if it meant getting this promotion. I’d wear long johns and build myself a blanket fort. I’d—
Something rustled in the corner by the closet.
A chill that had nothing to do with the night air, climbed up my spine. I inched toward the sound, keeping my eyes trained on the mound of extra pillows sitting on top of a cedar chest. They were moving which wasn't a good sign. Was it a bird? Maybe a mouse? I stifled a shudder.If this place is infested with mice…
But no. An opossum with a furry gray head and a white snout popped up between the pillows and froze, staring at me with beady eyes. It had a thin hairless tail and pointed ears, along with a cute pink nose. The little guy had probably crept in from the balcony to find a warm place to rest. I couldn’t blame him, considering how cold the night air was. Thankfully, opossums were shy, docile creatures, and this one was probably more scared of me than I was of it.
But that didn’t mean I was willing to share my room. Cute nose or not, the little guy had to go. I raised my hands in front of me as if the act could somehow calm the critter long enough for me to come up with a plan. It wasn’t like I had a cage handy or even a broom to nudge him toward the balcony.
“Hey there, buddy,” I crooned. “It’s all right. Why don’t we go back outside?”
The opossum cocked its head and inched to the edge of the cedar chest.See, he’s listening. This isn’t so bad.His tail arched, and I hesitated. Had I moved too fast?
“Want a piece of fruit, little guy? I have a whole yummy plate over there.” I wriggled my fingers, casting a quick spell to waft the scent of sliced apples and oranges in his direction.
The critter’s eyes darted to the fruit plate. He sniffed the air but wasn’t fooled by my attempt to put him back outside. His mouth opened, revealing at least fifty sharp, pointed teeth.Okay… not so cute anymore or as shy as I’d like.When the creature let out a terrifying hiss, I yelped and lunged for the door. I whipped it open, then slammed it closed, leaning heavily against the wood. My eyes squeezed shut as I imagined the hissing animal ravaging the fruit plate, then crawling into my suitcase to burrow inside my sweaters for a long winter’s nap.
I blew out a breath. I needed to relax. It was just an opossum. Although nightmarish, his hiss was worse than his bite. At least I was pretty sure opossums didn’t bite.Either way, survival odds were in my favor, and there was no way I was letting Jack-the-grumpy-innkeeper take care of the situation he’d likely created in the first place. I’d rather go toe to toe with Mother Nature and lose.
There was no other choice. If snacks didn’t lure the critter, maybe I could cast some sort of wildlife coercion spell. It had worked for the Pied Piper! Though it might wake every animal in the vicinity. I didn’t want to be their leader, I just didn’t want to share a room with anything that had a tail.
The sound of soft laughter made me freeze, and I cringed, recognizing Jack’s low tone. Of course, he was lurking in the shadows, likely hoping I’d run screaming down the stairs and all the way back to town. The troublemaker leaned against the stair rail, boots crossed at the ankles, arms folded over his flannel-covered chest. His smirk could have won an award for World’s Most Infuriating Facial Feature. Second runner-up to the gleam of victory in his eyes.
“Going somewhere, Delia?” he asked.
Chapter 4
Jack
Wildlife invasion for the win.
I never imagined forgetting to remove the animal’s nest on the second-floor balcony would prove to be so useful. But the cherry on my sabotage sundae was delivering Delia a late-night snack under the guise of a welcoming host. Was it my fault opossums loved fruit? Sure, I may have left a trail of berries leading toward the open door, but it’s not like I picked the critter up and brought him inside.
That was just good fortune.
Some would even call it karma.
“Is there a problem with your room?” I asked with an innocent tilt of my head.
Delia’s eyes narrowed. “Strangely enough, there is. Someone opened my balcony door while I was in the bathroom, and now I have an unwanted guest.”
“Oops.” I shrugged and pushed off the stair rail, doing everything in my power to keep a straight face. “That’s my fault. After our shaky start, I wanted to make up for it with a complimentary fruit plate. I knocked, but no one answered. Your do not disturb sign wasn’t up, so I figured I’d just leave it on your table. But then I noticed the room smelled musty, so I tried to air it out for you. Top-notch housekeeping is part of our charm.”
“Sure it is,” Delia muttered, wincing when something crashed inside the room. She braved a look by opening the door a few inches. I peered over her shoulder, biting the inside of my cheek at the mess. In a matter of minutes, the opossum had scampered around the room wreaking havoc. Pillows were strewn across the floor and the fruit plate had been pillaged, leaving grapes, nuts, and half-eaten cheese on the bedspread. Delia’s poinsettia hadn’t fared well either. The festive shrub was the victim of the muffled crash we’d heard.
“I hope you weren’t attached to that plant.”
“Oh no, not Simon!”
Delia gasped when she located her poinsettia in a pile of dirt by the nightstand. She rushed into the room, ignoring the pesky opossum who’d decided to play dead and was currently lying prone on the floor. Delia knelt next to the fallen plant and carefully turned it upright, groaning as a leaf came loose.
Simon?I made a face. “You name your plants?”
Her head shot up as she tucked the poinsettia against her chest. “Not usually, but this one is special. It was a gift. You know, an object given to show thoughtfulness and caring.” Her lips curled with sarcasm. “Or maybe you don’t know anything about the act of brightening someone’s day.”
Her barb hit home with more force than I thought possible. It must have registered on my face because her features softened, but she didn’t apologize. Instead, she dipped her head and tried to scoop dirt back into the foil-wrapped pot. When she’d gotten most of it, she stood with renewed determination, bolstered by a surprisingly cute scowl. Delia walked a wide circle around the sprawled critter, grabbed her suitcase, and started throwing everything inside.
