“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.
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
