Her cheeks were flushed with cold, and damp eyelashes framed eyes dark as smoky onyx. She offered a little wave along with a lopsided smile, and he noticed her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Beautiful…she’s so beautiful.
The thought leapt before Jayson could tamp it down. He tugged on the door and Max barreled in, bringing a flurry of snowflakes along with him.
“May I?” Emmy asked softly.
She wore only a scarf and the clothes she’d donned for rehearsal. She must be freezing. Jayson stepped back, allowing her entry. His heart raced ahead of rationality, and he fought to bring the two back into sync.
He longed to wrap his arms around her…to chase away the chill. Instead, he said softly, “Thanks for returning Max.”
“Of course.” She tugged at her scarf, but didn’t remove the fabric. Silence danced around them as Max watched from the floor where he’d curled before the fireplace.
“Your teeth are chattering.” Jayson took her hand and felt the sheath of cold along her skin. “You’re freezing. Come stand beside me by the fire.”
She didn’t argue as he led her across the room. Heat enveloped them like a soothing blanket and the pine kindling wove a pleasant aroma around them. For several moments, they simply stood side by side, in silence.
Then Emmy slanted him a look as if she wasn’t quite sure what came next. She murmured, “I’m sorry, Jayson.”
Her words, not what he was expecting, choked the breath from him. He gathered his bearings.
“I’m sorry too.” The admission burned, yet the words were necessary. Emmy wasn’t the only one at fault here. It was time he shouldered his share of the blame.
“But you didn’t run away today.” Emmy’s eyes grew wide as she studied him closely. “You didn’t—”
“You’re right, I didn’t do a lot of things I should have—like go after you that day you announced you were leaving.” The memory choked him, turned his gut to smoldering embers. “I should have, and I regret not telling you…”
“What, Jayson?” She lifted her free hand to his shoulder, then ran her fingers along the length of his arm. “What do you regret not telling me?”
The question, coupled with her tender touch, melted any reserve he had left in the tank.
“I should have let you know, Emmy…how much I loved you.”
****
Loved…
The single word cut Emmy to the quick, and brought back so many memories of the times she and Jayson had spent together. Those had been good days, carefree days full of happiness and laughter. Why had she let them go?
“Storm’s brewing.” Jayson motioned toward the bay window that overlooked the gardens. The inn glowed like a lighthouse beyond, a thousand twinkling beams of color cutting through the oncoming darkness.
“Yes.” In more ways than one.
Jayson released her hand, and a chill crept in once again. Emmy shivered.
“I was just about to make a cup of hot chocolate.” He bent to add another small log to the fire. “Would you like one?”
“Yes, I’d like that—a lot.”
She followed him into the kitchen and slid onto a chair at the scuffed wooden dining table. He riffled through the cabinet for a second mug. One already sat on the counter beside a cheerful marigold-colored stovetop, waiting to be filled.
“I remember how much you like marshmallows.” As if to prove the point, Jayson filled the cup with a handful of the minis before tearing the top from a pouch and dumping chocolate powder into the mix. He added steaming water and a splash of milk before topping it all off with a generous dollop of whipped cream.
Max wandered into the kitchen and settled at Emmy’s feet. He lay his head across her dancing shoes, now damp and soiled from tromping through the snow. Good thing she’d packed a second pair to wear for performances.
The scene proved idyllic…the dog, hot chocolate…Jayson. She remembered that as much as she liked marshmallows, he didn’t. And while she liked seafood, steak was his weakness. She enjoyed pop music, he was a fan of country.
But they both loved to dance, especially to the slow songs that sent a message straight to the heart.
Did Jayson remember that as well as she did?
“Thank you,” Emmy accepted the filled mug from Jayson. “It looks better than what they make at the coffee shop down the street.”
“I aim to please.”
And he did, without fail. How had she so easily forgotten that?
She took in her surroundings as Jayson gathered his drink. The kitchen was modest yet comfortable, with a coat of bright yellow sunshine along the walls. Somehow the dated appliances and time-worn cabinets worked together to welcome with a homey touch. Scents of crackling wood and cinnamon drifted as Jayson placed a plate of cookies on the table. Emmy’s belly yapped as he settled in across from her.
“Oatmeal raisin.” He said as if he sensed her stomach yowling. “Try one. They’re good.”
As Emmy reached for a cookie, laughter rang out in the yard beyond the cottage. She lifted her gaze to see a couple, along with a child, dashing through the falling snow. The child, bundled in a snowsuit, dropped to the ground and swept the snow aside as she lay on her back, arms and legs stretched wide. When she rose again, her shouts of delight danced from the mountaintops and Emmy grinned at the small angel print left behind. So sweet, but also evidence of the amount of snowfall already on the ground.
“They’re having fun,” Jayson noted.
Emmy turned to see him staring out the window alongside her. “Evenings like this were made for laughter and a few shenanigans along the way.”
Shenanigans…
That’s what Jayson had dubbed their high school escapades that leaned more to the mischievous side—like the time they stood outside Old Man Whittaker’s place sporting a birthday cake while they belted a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday, because they knew he had no family to speak of. By the time they finished, half of the neighborhood had joined in and someone even brought a small ice cream cake. Mr. Whittaker had cried happy tears as he blew out the birthday candles.
Or the time Jayson talked her into performing in the Hope Creek High talent show with him. They’d done a comedy sketch, complete with song and dance, and had captured the winning prize—a one-hundred dollar gift card. The next day, at Jayson’s insistence, they’d headed to the five and dime together, and purchased enough coloring books and crayons to supply every child shut in at the hospital with a Christmas gift. They’d made the delivery and spent the day playing tricks on the nurses while entertaining the kids. It had been so much fun.
There were other times…many of them. Suddenly, Emmy’s heart ached with the bittersweet memories.
“You’re wearing these.” Jayson lifted his fingers to her right earlobe. “The earrings I gave you that last Christmas, before you left for California.”
They were a pair of angels fashioned of silver. “One guardian to watch over each shoulder,” he had told her. Emmy hadn’t worn them in ages. What made her think to tuck them into her suitcase as she left California, and to put them on today?
Beyond the window, laughter continued to ring through the air as the child chased snowflakes beneath a whisper of dusk that settled in. Chapel lights glowed in the distance, and Emmy thought once again of the first kiss she and Jayson had once shared on the steps leading to its entrance. She’d heard a Christmas Eve gathering in the sanctuary was planned, and delighted in the idea of sharing the holiday with Jayson.
Then reality settled in, stealing her delight. Would she still be here in Hope Creek for Christmas…or back to California by then?
7
Emmy set the magazine she’d been reading aside and rose from the arm chair where she’d spent the past hour lounging in her room. A walk to the window told her what she already knew—snow was still falling. It settled along the inn’s gardens and piled like cotton batting along the roof of the chapel. Even Jayson’s cottage was not immune to
the burial. Bushes along the front walk had been transformed to oversized humps while his SUV sat motionless as a grounded ghost. Max’s paw prints from his last outing had already disappeared beneath a fresh layer of crystals.
Aunt Dahlia had canceled today’s performance, and tomorrow wasn’t looking any better. Although she loved the beauty of it, Emmy prayed the storm would soon pass. It would take a miracle to raise the necessary funds for the pediatric wing with only a handful of salvageable shows and a sparse audience, at best.
She’d spent the afternoon alternating between the arm chair and gazing from her window as guests played in the side yard, making snowmen and engaging in a playful fight with handfuls of the white stuff. Even Jayson had gotten into the merry chaos at one point, hauling a sled he’d found in one of the outbuildings to offer up rides for little Chrissy Sheridan, who was stranded at the inn with her father and nanny. He’d run in circles over the packed snow with the child bundled and seated, holding on for dear life as Max romped alongside. Emmy was sure his muscles screamed for relief, but Chrissy’s shrieks of laughter proved a testament to her enjoyment at being treated like a little snow princess for the afternoon.
That was so much like Jayson to put his needs aside for the good of others. He’d done it his entire life, and Emmy had taken his acts of kindness for granted. The realization sliced through her, cutting to the core. She closed her eyes, sighed as she massaged an ache from her temples, and then stood to pace the room.
Angels watched as she walked. The Christmas family had seen to it that each room at the inn was decorated with a fitting theme, and hers was graced with angels of all sorts and sizes. One suspended from the ceiling over the bed, keeping watch as she slept. Another fashioned of delicate crystal hovered from the fan pulley at the center of the room. A mischievous pair peeked from potted ferns along the wall near the window, seeming to drink in every move Emmy made.
She lifted a hand to each ear and felt the angels seated along her lobes.
“One guardian to watch over each shoulder…”
How fitting that she’d settled into the Angel Room. Was it a sign of some sort…a portent of things to come?
Emmy paused at the door leading out to the landing, opening it a sliver. Muted, merry voices drifted from the lobby below. Ari Christmas and a guest chef had promised a dinner buffet of sorts to those who were stranded, which proved to be virtually everyone who had not high-tailed it home at the first signs of snow. Making good on their word, they’d set the food along a sideboard and rang the dinner bell. The tangy aroma of a lobster mac and cheese filled Emmy’s senses, and her belly launched into a series of defiant growls. She’d skipped lunch and was now paying the price.
She glanced in the dresser mirror and smoothed her hair before applying a dab of lipstick. It wouldn’t hurt to head downstairs and enjoy a bit of company. Being snowed in had dislodged memories, bringing with them a sense of melancholy that proved difficult to shake. The inn’s festive decorations—especially the grand and brightly-decorated fir tree that graced its foyer—would surely chase away the sadness.
Emmy opened the door and stepped onto the landing, where she found Jayson climbing the stairs toward her. The sturdy cadence of his boots along the wood, matching the tempo of carols that hummed from below, proved a song to her soul. Immediately, the gloom lifted and her heart began to sing.
“Hey, Emmy.” He paused just below the landing, his gaze lifted to hers. Damp hair fell in crisp, coiled waves across his brow. He brushed flakes of white from the crown. With his blue eyes bright from the cold, she thought he’d never looked so handsome. “I was just coming to check on you. Have you had dinner?”
“No.” She could barely gather her voice. She felt seventeen all over again, as if he’d come for her for the very first time. “It smells scrumptious. I was headed that way.”
“Perfect. May I join you?”
“Of course.” She nodded. “I’d love that.”
He took her hand. “Let’s go.”
****
Their dinner conversation proved easy and light. Emmy laughed softly at one of his jokes, and Jayson remembered all over again why he’d fallen in love with her.
“How on earth did you talk Ari Christmas into allowing Max into the inn—not to mention the dining room?” Emmy asked as she lifted the edge of the linen tablecloth and peeked beneath the table where Max lay at her feet, curled up and snoozing as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Lucky dog.
“I didn’t ask. She offered.” Jayson was thankful for the kindness the Christmas family had shown him over the past several weeks, allowing him to bunk at the cottage. Originally designed to house a caretaker, the outdated building had stood vacant for the past few years. The family planned to update it for rental this coming summer, but had made Jayson feel welcome in the meantime. “Max seems to have a way with people.”
“I suppose he takes after his master.” Emmy reached for the sugar and added a teaspoon to her second cup of coffee. “You made little Chrissy Sheridan’s day, pulling her all over the hillside on that sled. I thought you were going to drop right there in the snow from offering up so many rides.”
“You saw that?”
“Yes, I certainly did.” Emmy chuckled. “It was hard to miss the child’s gleeful shouts from my window. I expected at any moment you would tear off your coat to reveal a Superman cape and emblem.”
Jayson joined in her laughter as he sliced a look to his left. Soft carols hummed along the dining room, mingling with the thrum of after-dinner chatter. Guests lingered, enjoying each other’s company. The inn, with its hospitable, easy charm proved the perfect place to pass the time during a winter storm.
His gaze alit on Chrissy, who sat across the room, nodding off in her father’s arms. The day’s activities with their fresh air and laughter had taken a toll as her bedtime neared. One tiny palm curled along her rosy cheek as her lips pursed in a dream.
Jayson’s heart lurched. At one time he’d thought he and Emmy might make a family together. They’d talked about it on more than one occasion, often tossing about names as well as their respective wishes for the number and gender. He’d always longed to be a father, and he felt certain Emmy would prove a doting, loving mother alongside him. Together, they’d make countless happy memories.
If only she’d give them a chance.
“Can you believe it’s still snowing?” Emmy’s voice drew him back.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“At this rate, it will take days to dig out.”
“I know. Dahlia has canceled tomorrow’s show.” Jayson tapped the cell phone tucked into his pocket. “The message came through just before dessert.”
“Oh, I figured as much.” Emmy sighed and sipped her coffee, watching him over the rim of her cup with those alluring, dark eyes. “What will we do if this storm keeps up? No shows mean no funding for the pediatric wing.”
“It will be OK.” Jayson reached over to shelter her hand in his. “God is in control, and He’ll work it all out.”
“Yes, I had forgotten that.” She squeezed his fingers gently. “I’m glad you haven’t.”
“You know Aunt Dahlia is a prayer warrior and she always has a trick or two tucked up that sleeve of hers.”
“I know. Remember the time right after you adopted Max that he ran off and we thought he was lost for good, but Aunt Dahlia insisted he’d return?”
“She told us to sing as we searched, because he liked the harmony of our voices together. So we did just that, walking to the four corners of the countryside.”
“We’d scoured and sang into the evening before we found him sitting right here on the chapel steps as if he’d been waiting for our arrival all along.”
“You were so happy you burst into tears.”
He’d wrapped his arms around her as Max looked on, and he hadn’t been able to contain his feelings for her any longer—he’d kissed her for the first time. His head had spun and a wa
ve of longing swept clear to the tips of his toes.
At the time he’d thought Emmy felt the same. She’d leaned into him to return the kiss, sighing from somewhere deep down inside as if a whole new world had opened before her. The chapel bells had clanged in a gusty breeze, making them laugh…and wonder.
But now he questioned if she even remembered standing on the chapel steps beneath the glow of a harvest moon. Hard to tell from the faraway look in her gaze. Was it the subtle wash of overhead lights or memories that caused her eyes to take on a sheen of moisture?
Jayson’s coffee cup clattered as he returned it to the table with a not-so-steady hand.
“If we’re going to be snowed in here again tomorrow, we’ll need some entertainment.” The timbre of his voice mirrored the confusion that churned inside him. “Ari Christmas has gone above and beyond to keep us comfortable. It would be a nice gesture to give her a break.”
“I agree.” Emmy drained her coffee cup and placed it on the table beside his. “What do you have in mind?”
“Let’s take a walk and consider it.” He rose from his seat, tugging Emmy along. “I’m sure we can come up with a plan.”
8
Moonlight spilled over new-fallen snow as a slight breeze caused whispers of dampness to dance over Emmy’s hair. She followed Jayson down a walking trail toward the Christmas Inn chapel on the far side of the sprawling property. The scent of pine and burning firewood swirled through the treetops, evoking visions of holiday cheer. Max romped alongside them, burying his snout in the snowdrifts as he sniffed for fallen hazelnuts and pine cones.
Every so often a lone cardinal or blue jay flitted by, stealing Max’s attention and causing him to dart off and give chase. His enthusiastic barks rang across the mountaintops.
Dusk deepened to night and the temperature dipped into the twenties, but with Jayson at her side Emmy felt only a sense of warmth. Their breath swirled out in puffs of white as they navigated the snow-laden path, and Emmy realized that she hadn’t seen a storm such as this in years.
Love at Christmas Inn Collection 1 Page 18