Love at Christmas Inn Collection 1

by Tanya Stowe et al

  Southern California rarely saw a winter day when the temperature dipped below the mid-forties. She’d missed the excitement and anticipation of watching billows of ominous clouds gather to dump their load over the undulating landscape. The world seemed to stop spinning and she lavished in the brief time-out from life’s hectic pace as the community spent a string of days snowed in before digging out from beneath the blanket.

  She lifted her gaze toward the horizon, framed by the rugged landscape of snowcapped mountaintops. Pinpoints of light beckoned from the chapel’s majestic steeple, drawing like a beacon in a storm.

  Emmy and Jayson made their way toward the glow.

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful here.” The words escaped before she even realized she’d spoken. Their boots crunched in unison along the packed snow and the air felt so crisp, so clean, that each whisper of sound seemed magnified. “Look at the lights shimmering along the gazebo in the gardens. And I think those are candles glowing from the chapel windows across the way. I’ll bet they mirror the battery-operated candelabras I’ve seen shining from the guest room windows at the inn.”

  “Beautiful antiques.” Jayson’s breath curled like smoke from a pipe. “The inn is really shaping up. By this coming summer, the place will have been completely restored to its original grandeur. I’ll be out of the caretaker’s cottage by then and in a place of my own.”

  “Oh? Where will that be?”

  “Close by.” Jayson’s attention drifted to the pasture beyond the inn’s boundaries. He seemed deep in thought, lost for a moment before turning back to Emmy. “An easy commute to the theater, yet far enough off the beaten path to feel secluded.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Oh, it is.” He nodded vigorously, sure of the statement, and opened his mouth to say more, then seemed to think better of it. “Lots of things are changing around here, Emmy, and just as many are remaining the same.”

  Cryptic. She wasn’t sure what to make of such a statement. The inn was transforming, and the community itself seemed to have grown up since she’d left several years ago. But the hometown feel remained the same.

  Her heart seemed to mirror the sentiment. She’d done some growing up as well, yet her heart retained a myriad of feelings for Jayson. She needed only to sort them out—to fit all the pieces together.

  What about his feelings…for her?

  “Hopefully the inn will be so popular and so booked to the gills they’ll need to bring on a groundskeeper and staff, like in the old days.” Jayson’s voice, soothing as the velvet sky, drew her back.

  “That would be fantastic.”

  What had he been thinking of moments before as he gazed toward the wooded pasture? Was he considering the time they’d spent there during their wanderings together years ago? Emmy had often thought the property would provide the perfect site for a home, both tranquil and functional—not to mention gorgeous.

  “I’ve always loved this area.”

  “Me too.” With its lush green landscape framed by rolling foothills, one might easily become lost in the beauty. “The inn is such a historical landmark here in Hope Creek. So many good times…so many memories. I’m glad Aunt Dahlia thought to book me a room here.”

  Jayson paused as the path curved and turned to face her.

  “Are you sure about that—enjoying this even though I’m also here and we’re trapped in this snowstorm together?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, but voiced the single word with her whole heart.

  Being here with Jayson proved the one point she was sure of. The storm that only yesterday had seemed to be a curse, now proved a blessing in disguise. How else might she have been afforded the time to sort out her feelings…to come to terms with it all?

  “Good. At least we have that.” Jayson’s smile spoke volumes. He brushed snowflakes from the damp swatch of hair that swept across her forehead to blur her vision. “It’s a start…a very good start.”

  “I’m enjoying the break from our work schedule and, for the record, I don’t feel trapped.” Emmy returned his smile. His tender touch had loosened the knots in her belly. “I feel…just right. I know I haven’t been very gracious, but this storm has given me time to reflect.”

  “And what sort of conclusion have you come to?”

  “I’m still sorting that out.” She refused to offer a more direct answer—not until she felt completely certain herself. “But there’s starlight at the end of the tunnel.”

  “Yes.” Jayson followed her gaze, saw the stars lifting their sleepy heads, and nodded slightly. He reached for her hand, sheltering it in his as they resumed their walk alongside one another in a comfortable silence, simply listening to the night sounds and drinking in the expanse of sky. “Does that starlight include me?”

  “I’m not sure how everything fits together.” Hoping for something that couldn’t be would do neither of them any good. So many variables stood in their path. Her dreams—her home and future—were in California now.

  But would those hopes and dreams remain there?

  “It’s OK, Emmy.” Jayson’s gentle voice lacked the overtone of reproach that she expected. Had their roles been reversed—had he made such a statement to her—she would have felt wounded. Yet he put those feelings aside for her sake. “We’ve got time.”

  His lack of censure eased waves of nervous impulses that fired along her spine. She paused as they approached the gazebo set into gardens with a grand, tiered waterfall near the center. Though the fall stood dry and silent in the midst of the winter storm, her mind recalled the beauty of its sprawling flow.

  She spied the oak where she and Jayson used to picnic together on warm summer days when they were both able to get away from school and work obligations. Limbs bowed beneath the weight of snow, but she recalled the glorious, leafy summertime umbrella that lent shade from the heat of the sun. “Do you remember how we used to sneak over here and go exploring?”

  “We’d sit right here in the grass and listen to the song of the creek—Jingle Bell Creek, you called it.” He nodded. “Max would tag along and romp in the water, then hop out and sun himself on one of the rocks over there, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.” He motioned to the large outcropping of boulders that framed part of the shoreline.

  “Right.” Emmy pictured the scene in her mind’s eye, and despite the stiff north breeze the sounds of summer came alive again. “The squirrels drove him crazy, racing by his snout to gather nuts and berries, and then scurrying just out of reach along the tree trunks to hide their wares.”

  “He never caught one, despite his enthusiastic attempts.” Jayson belly laughed. “You know, your name for the water—Jingle Bell Creek—stuck. I believe it’s on all the promotional materials for Christmas Inn.”

  “I’ve noticed that.” She’d seen the wording in pamphlets at the inn’s welcome desk. “We always ate well on those picnics. You’d pack turkey and tomato sandwiches on slabs of homemade wheat bread from your grandmother’s kitchen and a thermos of her sweet sun tea for us to share.”

  “The tomatoes came straight from her garden and oh, how I miss that tea.” Jayson paused as a faraway look overtook his gaze. “It sported just a splash of lemon for a tang and enough sugar to turn our blood to molasses.”

  She wondered if he was thinking of his grandmother, gone now for half-a-dozen years, and the way she’d waggle a finger at him as he led Emmy off on another adventure. “Bring sweet Emmy home safe, Jayson. Bring her home safe.”

  He’d done just that, time and time again. He’d laughed with her, protected her. Brought her home.

  Loved her.

  “I miss Granny’s tea, too.” In truth, she missed more than the tea. A sense of nostalgia wove through the fibers of her heart and she did her best to tamp it down, refocus. “There’s none other like it.”

  Some things in life could not be duplicated. Was her relationship with Jayson one of them? She’d gone to dinner and to the occasional show with her fair share o
f men in California, but none of them had gained her admiration enough to warrant a second date.

  Only Jayson had ever managed as much.

  They passed by a merry display of colorful holiday décor and then crossed the North Pole Bridge over Jingle Bell Creek. Emmy drew a deep breath as they approached the chapel, a devout and ready sentinel overlooking the countryside.

  The wooded expanse of rolling hills beyond lay undeveloped, and the scene could not have been more perfect if it had been captured on a postcard. She’d often wondered what would become of the land, and was surprised to find it had not yet been developed. Again, a sense of longing laced with nostalgia bubbled to the surface. What a perfect place to build a home…to raise children.

  Last she’d heard, the Christmas family owned it. Perhaps she’d speak to them and see if they were willing to bargain. Perhaps one day…

  “Have you ever seen anything so magnificent?” The words formed on a sigh from deep inside her.

  “Yes, I have.” Jayson paused and turned to her. He stroked a finger along her cheekbone. “You, Emmy. You’re magnificent—top to bottom, inside and out.”

  Her pulse raced at the tenderness of his touch and the sincerity in his tone. She leaned into him and tilted her head to find his gaze. For a moment she hoped he’d kiss her just as he had for the first time, right here on the chapel steps.

  She longed to hear the song of the bells once again.

  He skimmed his hand along her back and paused at the base of her spine, cradling her against the cold.

  “Jayson, I think…I want…” She could hardly speak, could barely utter a sound. The words lodged in her throat.

  “What do you want, Emmy?”

  She wanted him to kiss her, to take her back to the happy, carefree days that they’d shared.

  She wanted forever with him.

  The need washed over her in a wave that nearly swept her under.

  Then fear crept in, causing her to shiver, and pinpricks of reality banded together and surged into focus.

  There was no going back to the way things once were—only moving forward into what they might become. Could she take that leap of faith? Was it fair to Jayson—or to her—to give either of them the impression she was ready to do that?

  For a moment she stood paralyzed, unable to move, simply to be.

  Then she found her lungs, inhaled deeply. She took a step back as her throat tightened and her vision blurred with the threat of tears.

  “We should keep walking.” She drew her hand from Jayson’s and swiped at her eyes before she tucked a fist into her coat pocket. “And find what we came for before the next squall blows in.”

  ****

  Jayson saw Emmy’s gaze wander to the chapel and then the partially-wooded pasture beyond. He knew what whispered to her heart, although he’d also determined she had yet to acknowledge it.

  So he’d wait to tell her the property that she loved so much, that she’d chattered on and on about during their dating days, belonged to him now.

  And that he longed to share it—to make a life together and raise a family—with her.

  Ari Christmas and her family had sold him the five-acre swatch, tucked into the wooded cove and set far enough back from the road to seem as if it existed in its own tranquil universe. The location proved convenient for daily commutes to and from work at the theater, yet perfect with its measure of solitude.

  “This will only take a minute.” He climbed the steps to the chapel entrance and pushed open the door. A portable karaoke machine, once used for outdoor weddings and the receptions that followed, was tucked into one of the hall closets. Ari Christmas had mentioned so in passing. “Come stand in the foyer while I gather a little entertainment for tomorrow’s snow day.”

  “OK.” She followed him through the chapel’s heavy double doors, fashioned of solid wood that had just been polished and cheerfully adorned with festive wreaths laden with holly. Warmth welcomed and he switched on a panel of lights, casting the sanctuary with an angelic glow.

  Though the interior was beautifully decorated in anticipation of an upcoming evening service, Emmy paid the intricately woven wreaths and silver-glazed angels little mind.

  Instead, she wandered to the side window that overlooked the pasture beyond. With her forehead pressed to the glass, she resembled a child longing for Christmas treasures.

  With a little help Jayson would bring those treasures to her. Whether or not she chose to accept them was entirely up to her.

  But he hoped she would do just that.

  9

  “Wow, that was cuter than sunshine,” Emmy said to Jayson as Chrissy Sheridan finished a rousing rendition of Santa Claus is Coming to Town at the karaoke machine. For a six-year-old, the child had a big voice and an even larger personality. She was sweet as granny’s sun tea, with a smile that charmed the socks off a crowd.

  Applause sounded and the little girl curtsied on the makeshift stage at the front of the dining room. Jayson had fashioned the raised floor that afternoon from a piece of plywood and several two-by-fours. Their idea to host a karaoke concert had proven a hit.

  Now that her turn was finished, Chrissy made her way to Jayson. The smile on her cherubic face framed two rows of pearly-white baby teeth.

  “That was fun!” Chrissy brought her hands together in a flurry of claps.

  “Great job, sweetie.” Jayson patted her head.

  “Do you think Max liked it?” She eyed the dog, curled at Emmy’s feet. His jowls were splayed across her toes as if holding her there so she couldn’t escape.

  Not that she wanted to.

  “I think he loved it,” Jayson assured Chrissy, garnering a giggle.

  “Thanks, Mr. Jayson.” Chrissy patted his cheek with her chubby hand. “You’re the best. I love karaoke.”

  “It was Emmy’s idea. She loves to sing, too.”

  Only partially true, since they’d come up with the idea together. But it was just like Jayson to deflect credit to others.

  “Thank you, Miss Emmy.” Chrissy climbed onto her lap long enough to press a quick kiss to her forehead, then scrambled down again and skipped one table over to join her dad.

  Kids and dogs loved Jayson, Emmy knew this with certainty.

  She loved him too. But was it too late? He’d been a little standoffish today, and she wondered what was rambling around inside his head.

  “It’s your turn now, Mr. Jayson and Miss Emmy,” Chrissy called. “Sing for me.”

  Soon, she had the others in the dining room chanting in unison, “Sing, sing, sing!”

  “Well?” Jayson tilted his head to slice a look her way. “Shall we?”

  His chair scratched along the tile as he pushed back from the table. He reached for her hand as he stood.

  “I suppose we shall.”

  There was no getting out of it. Emmy rose from her seat and wound toward the stage with Jayson.

  A duet was in order. Perfect.

  Jayson thumbed through the playlist until he found a familiar song. He waited as Emmy read the title. She nodded her approval of the ballad they both knew well by memory, since it was included in their lineup for Aunt Dahlia’s holiday show. No need to worry over words.

  He cued the music.

  Sharing the only microphone, they stood close together as the harmony portion approached.

  Emmy tried to focus on the words.

  They’d practiced the ballad a hundred times, but the sound had never meshed quite so beautifully. All eyes focused on them, yet as Jayson turned to her, she felt as if they were the only two in the room.

  Then she was completely swept away when he took the microphone from her, set it aside, and drew her into his arms.

  The room swirled as he sang to her—only to her.

  The words were at once familiar yet also magnified in their message. They spoke to her heart…to her very soul. She could only listen and try to breathe.

  Time seemed to stand still as the world around them dis
appeared.

  “Jayson…” The single word—his name—proved a vessel that coiled all of her emotions together and decoded them in a single moment in time.

  As the song closed and the music faded, he pulled her close and kissed her.

  In the distance, carrying ever-so-faintly on a breeze, came the joyful toll of church

  bells.

  ****

  The room went silent following the fade of music. Completely silent.

  A strangled sound rose from Emmy’s throat to spill over and only then did Jayson fully realize what had happened. He’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back. Without hesitation.

  But then she took off running through the dining room doors and out onto the deck, down the steps and across the grounds that were turning sleepy beneath the first hints of dusk.

  He watched her go, too dumbfounded to move. But not for long.

  “Emmy!” He took off after her, grabbing his coat from the hook by the door. She’d left hers hanging over the back of her dinner chair, and he snatched it up on his way. “Wait!”

  She’d made it as far as the gazebo before he overtook her.

  “Jayson, please let me go.”

  “Not like this.” He blocked her path. “Talk to me.”

  Her baby blue sweater made her dark eyes pop and the familiar scent that clung to her skin had his senses reeling. He vaguely wondered if she could read his mind. Did she know how much she undid him?

  “I-I can’t.” Her teeth chattered beneath the bite of darkness.

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Yes. It matters to me.”

  He draped her coat over her shoulders, and she shoved her arms through the sleeves, diving into the offered warmth. The snow-covered ground glittered like starlight beneath a full moon, mirroring her shimmering eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She sounded miserable. As if she was being torn in two. “I’m so sorry, Jayson, for everything. For...this.”