I spun on my heel and threw myself back into bed. In case Jack found any more lights, I pulled the blankets up over my head and buried my face in the pillow. Tomorrow, I’d see about getting some blackout curtains installed. I might even invest in some wildlife repellent and an eye mask. Who knew what other disturbances Jack might send my way? I wouldn’t put a visit from a skunk past him.
Just as I was finally drifting off, the deafening sound of a chainsaw split the air. The blade sank into something solid, throttling to an ear-piercing volume. A hiss, not unlike the one from the opossum, slipped through my teeth. Ear plugs were getting added to the shopping list. Shoving my arm through the blankets, I waved it viciously through the air and flared my fingers toward the abrasive sound. The chainsaw sputtered, and for a few blissful seconds, there was silence.
It revved again, and I closed my fist around a ripple of magic, silencing the saw for good. The only sound left was Jack’s muffled oath from beneath my window. With his defeat blanketing the farm like newly fallen snow, I fell fast asleep.
***
Day two at the Bradley Inn broke cold and clear, and a thick layer of snow glistened over the farm. After sleeping in as late as I dared, I slipped into the bathroom to take a hot shower and get ready for the day. I was still bemused by my showdown with Jack, and by the strange urge I had to see what he’d try next.
I unpacked my toiletry bag for the second time and grabbed a fresh towel from the rack, then turned on the shower. Humming to myself, I wriggled my fingers under the water, frowning at the icy temperature. The inn was on the older side, but the tub had filled with hot water without issue last night. A sneaky suspicion wrinkled my nose as I spun the hot water dial as far as it would go. Nothing. Just cold water.
The crack of an axe drew my attention, and I tied my robe tighter around my waist and trudged to the window. Jack was in the side-yard, chopping firewood. His shoulder muscles bunched as he drew the axe back, and then forward to let it slice evenly through the log.
Wiping his brow, he chugged water from a bottle, tipping his head back to reveal the strong column of his neck. Honestly, the entire scene would have been guilty pleasure popcorn viewing if I wasn’t standing next to a shower raining cold water.
I shoved open the window and leaned my arms against the casing.
“Turn it back on, Jack!” My angry breath came out in white puffs of frozen air. Jack looked up at me with a smirk that said more than enough about my current utility situation.
“Turn what back on? Are you having trouble with something?” He adjusted his work gloves and picked up the axe.
“Yes. There’s no hot water.”
With a shrug and another muscular swing of the axe that normally would have made my mouth water, he said, “Grandma Jean told you it was tricky. This is an old inn. It happens.”
“It worked fine last night. You did something to it, and if you don’t fix it right now, I’m going into the basement to fix it myself.”
Leaning on the handle of his axe, Jack shook his head. “Unfortunately, all maintenance areas and basement access are closed to guests.” He snapped his fingers. “You know who doesn’t have trouble with their hot water? The hotel in town.”
I growled in frustration. “I’m not leaving, Jack!”
He went back to chopping wood, and I inhaled a shuddering breath of fury. Looking down, I saw a mound of snow gathered within an empty window box. I reached inside and scooped my hand to form a ball, then packed the snow together between my palms. Narrowing my eyes, I blew magic into the snowball, and like a needle penetrating a voodoo doll’s limb; I aimed for Jack’s back when he bent to reach for another sip of water.
Bullseye!
The snowball hit with perfect precision, and Jack grunted in surprise. I flattened myself against the bathroom wall unable to control a snort of laughter.Fine. Let him think he’s won.There were other ways to solve my problem. All I had to do was fill the tub and then use a spell to warm the water. The whole process would take longer, but it was a small price to pay.
Pushing away from the wall, I popped the lever on the shower to make the water pour into the tub, only to slump down on the edge when I realized there was no stopper. I searched the bathroom and even went into the room next door where I’d bathed the night before, but the stopper was missing.
“That wretch,” I grumbled, marching back to my room. It looked like for the time being it was a cold shower or nothing. Hyping myself up, I dove beneath the icy stream and took the quickest shower of my life, shivering so hard I thought I might knock my head against the tile.
After putting on my warmest clothes and drying my hair, I went downstairs to search for coffee to heat my insides. Grandma Jean stood over the stove stirring a pot of oatmeal.
“Coffee’s on the sideboard, dear,” she said, setting out a bowl for me and filling it with oatmeal. “Oh, I turned the water heater back on. Jack must have flipped the breaker switch last night, so by this morning the water had cooled. Give it an hour and we’ll have hot water again. I hope it wasn’t too much of a surprise this morning.”
“No, it was fine,” I said even though it was pure torture. “I should have expected as much.” I polished off my breakfast, watching as Grandma Jean spooned the rest of the oatmeal into an insulated bowl and screwed on the lid. “Is that Jack’s breakfast? Mind if I take it out to him? I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot and a little one-on-one conversation might help.”
“That would be wonderful, dear.” She handed me the container and placed the empty pot into the sink.
I bundled up for the weather and tucked the container under my arm, then went to go find Jack. This early, the tree lot was still empty of customers, and Grandma Jean had mentioned business was slow this year. I passed by a cute wreath stand that was fully stocked and then walked past a line of pre-cut trees leaning against a fence.
With a devious flick of my wrist, I sent the trees toppling like dominos. It was petty, but it felt good. Maybe Jack’s Scrooge-like tendencies were already rubbing off on me, or maybe turnaround was just fair play.
I found Jack around the corner in the woodshed, stacking the logs he’d chopped. On the ground near the stack was the chainsaw that had interrupted my sleep the night before. He’d taken it apart in an apparent attempt to fix it, but no amount of repairs was going to do the trick. I made sure of that.
Leaning against a post, I unscrewed the bowl’s lid and breathed in the delicious scent of warm oatmeal. Jack paused when he sensed my presence, his whole body tensing.
“Good morning, Jack. Isn’t it beautiful out today? The sun is shining, and the wildlife have returned to their nests.”
