Page 38 of Snowflakes Over Starr's Fall
“Jenna…” Jack began. His eyes seemed bluer than ever, and his expression was both intent and serious. He took a step toward her, one hand reaching out. Jenna’s heart lurched with hope—and terror. What was he going to say? Was she ready for this… whatever it was?
“Hey, sis!”
Jack took a jolting step back as Zach waltzed through the back door, insouciant and oblivious—until he caught sight of Jack.
“Oh. Uh, hey.” He laughed, cleared his throat, laughed again. “Did I, um… interrupt something?”
“Just some brainstorming about this barn dance,” Jack replied lightly. He sounded remarkably unaffected by what, Jenna was fast realizing, had been essentially nothing. Nothing had happened between them. Nothing had even been said.
And yet…
Zach looked between her and Jack, seeming as if he was trying to assess the mood, and then he raised his eyebrows and gestured to the door. “You want to have a look at the space? It’s got some junk in it at the moment, but I can clear it out.”
“Okay.” Jack glanced back at Jenna before turning to Zach. “Sounds good,” he said, and with Jenna watching, he strolled out of the kitchen with her brother, as if seconds ago he hadn’t been about to tell her he loved her… which of course he hadn’t.
What had just happened?Nothing, Jenna realized, and for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t at all relieved. She was just disappointed.
Which, in its own way, was progress. Unfortunately.
16
The hammering on the front door had Jenna calling out only slightly irritably, “All right,all right, I’m coming.” She stood up from where she’d been making a display of Christmas baking items, dusting off the knees of her overalls before hurrying to the front door of the mercantile.
It had been nearly a week since she’d seen Jack, since they’d had that almost-nothing, which was the only way Jenna could let herself think about it. He’d texted her the next day to say he wouldn’t be around this week, as he was going into the city to see friends and then spending Thanksgiving with his mom, but he hoped to see her when he got back… whatever that meant.
Jenna had no idea anymore. She’d worn herself out, over-analyzing her conversation with Jack, the things they’d both shared, the things they’d almost said—or not—and whether any of it actuallymeantanything. Why, on the verge of what had felt like something wonderful, had he gone out so readily with her brother to see the barn? Had he been looking for a reason to leave? Had he beenrelieved?
She couldn’t let herself obsess about it, even as she recognized she already was. It was hard not to, but she had so many other things to think about—especially getting the store ready for its grand opening during the Winter Wonderland Weekend, just two weeks away.
Already Starr’s Fall was transforming itself into something like a Norman Rockwell painting—wreaths on every door, lights spangled along the lampposts on Main Street, and this morning Jenna glimpsed a hard frost on the ground, sparkling like silver. It really did feel like Christmas was around the corner.
“Well, it’s about time,” a voice harrumphed before Jenna had completely opened the door. She blinked, surprised to see Henrietta Starr standing on her new-and-improved porch. Instead of a lumpy old sofa, there were Adirondack chairs, as well as an American flag and a sculpture of a grizzly bear that Zach had sourced from a local artist, and a hand-carved welcome sign by the door.
“Miss Starr…” Jenna greeted her in surprise. She peered out into the empty parking lot, looking for a car. “Did you come with Laurie?”
“No,” Henrietta replied in the same tetchy tone. “I walked on my own two feet.” She glanced down at her feet, encased in sensible brogues, her wool stockings pooling in wrinkles around her ankles.
“Youwalked?” Jenna didn’t manage to hide her surprise. Miller’s Mercantile was half a mile from the center of town, and Henrietta had told her at the boardgame night it was too far for her, which had been something Jenna had no trouble believing.
“Why do you sound so surprised?” Henrietta demanded, straightening her tweed skirt before she admitted grudgingly, “It took me some time. But if I don’t move these old bones every so often, I’ll never be able to. Or so Laurie keeps telling me.”
Jenna smothered a laugh. “Wise advice,” she told Henrietta. “Would you like to have a look around? Or rest for a minute.” She gestured to the armchair by the window. “We’re not quite open yet, so things are still a little jumbled, but if I can help you find anything…” She trailed off, for Henrietta was already shuffling through the store, leaning heavily on her cane. Jenna watched her go with a funny little ache in her chest. There was something both so dignified and desperately sad about Henrietta Starr’s careful steps through the store, the way she stopped and peered at something on a shelf, before giving a little harrumph.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Jenna called, before heading back to where she’d been working. Now that the store was finally coming together, she was feeling positive and even excited about its re-opening. The resistance she’d felt to changing it seemed silly now, the temper tantrum of a child, although Jenna knew herself well enough to accept that it hadn’t been childish stubbornness that had kept her from renovating Miller’s Mercantile, but simple fear. An unexpected bonus of this whole endeavor had been how much she’d enjoyed it. Despite her resistance, it hadn’t been nearly as painful a process as she’d feared, and she’d really enjoyed the creative challenges. Although if she let herself, she still felt nervous that the whole thing would be a flop; the customers wouldn’t come, she wouldn’t be able to repay the regeneration grant,andshe’d be eating the salad bar leftovers every night.
Most of the time, though, she could talk herself down from that particular ledge. She had reason to be optimistic; Jack, with all his investment experience, seemed confident that the changes she’d made to the store were the right ones. And she trusted Jack…
Which was why she wished he’d said somethingslightlyless oblique in his text message. Something she could pin some possibility, somehope, onto. But never mind, because she wasn’t obsessing.
“The store looks different from what I remember,” Henrietta remarked as she stumped toward Jenna. She was carrying a nylon shopping bag that had a few lumpy items in it which looked like soup cans. Jenna hoped she’d found the ones she’d stocked with more heft to them, as Henrietta herself had suggested.
“I’ve been giving it a makeover,” Jenna told her cheerfully. “Do you like it?”
“Hmm…” Henrietta looked around critically. “Better selection of food, I suppose.” She turned to Jenna with a narrowed, bright-eyed gaze that was close to a glare. “Although Idon’tlike beef in canned soup. The meat is always so stringy.”
“Noted, thank you,” Jenna murmured. “May I take that for you?” She reached for the bag, and Henrietta handed it over, somewhat grudgingly.
“What happened to your parents?” she barked as Jenna took the soup cans out of the bag. “How come they’re not running this place anymore?”
