Page 32 of Healing Hearts at the Christmas Inn
"I want to use them." Jane's hands twisted together, a nervous habit she'd had since childhood. "To decorate the ballroom. Really decorate it, the way Grandpa did that last year."
Both Jack and Logan stared at her.
"Jane," Jack said slowly, "that's not a small undertaking. It took four or five of us three full days to finish back then."
"I know," Jane said, her voice steady despite the way her hands kept moving. "But I want to do it. I'm getting the boxes tonight after dinner and starting then."
Logan exchanged a glance with Jack, eyebrows raised.
Jack studied his daughter carefully. They'd always decorated the ballroom each year since his father's death, but it had been bare minimum. Whatever leftover decorations they had from the rest of the inn, just enough to honor the tradition without reopening wounds. This was completely different. This was Jane wanting to restore it to its former glory.
"What's brought this on?" Jack asked gently.
Jane's expression shifted, cautious but with something flickering underneath that looked almost like excitement. "I've just been thinking. About how much Grandpa loved that room, how much he loved the ball. Maybe it's time we stopped just going through the motions."
Jack felt a tightness in his chest. The ballroom had been his father's pride and joy. The Winter Ball had been the highlight of every Christmas season, a formal affair that drew guests from across the state. His father had outdone himself that final year, creating something magical. But after his death, continuing had felt wrong. Like trying to replace something irreplaceable.
But maybe Jane was right. Maybe it was time.
"Alright," Jack heard himself say. "Third section, east wall in the inn's attic. The boxes should all be together."
Jane's eyes widened, clearly braced for an argument. "Really? You're okay with this?"
"Really." Jack managed a smile. "Your grandfather would approve. But sweetheart, that's a massive job for one person."
"I'll manage." Jane's voice was quick, determined. "I'm getting everything tonight after dinner."
She crossed the room and hugged him fast, then practically fled before he could offer help or ask more questions.
Logan let out a low whistle after she disappeared. "Well, that was unexpected."
Jack picked up his coffee mug, realized it was empty. "She's planning something."
"Obviously." Logan's grin was knowing. "But whatever it is, that's the most life I've seen in her eyes since she came home. I'm not about to question it."
Jack stared at the empty doorway, a mixture of hope and worry churning in his gut. "One step at a time."
They worked in silence for a while, Logan taking measurements while Jack made notes about the repairs needed. But Jack's mind kept drifting. To Holly on the beach, her hair catching the sunrise. To Jane's excitement about the ballroom. To the impossible weight of trying to hold everything together while it all threatened to slip away.
"I'm going to check on the other guest rooms," Jack said finally, setting down his notepad. "Make sure everything's ready for when we get more bookings."
Logan nodded, but there was understanding in his expression. He knew Jack needed to move and stay busy to keep the worry at bay.
Jack made his rounds through the second floor, checking each room methodically. Testing faucets, making sure lightbulbs worked, and noting which curtains needed replacing. The work was familiar, soothing in its predictability.
In one of the corner rooms, he paused by an antique dresser that had belonged to his great-great-grandmother. The finish was worn, the wood dull with age. One of the drawer pulls was loose, wobbling when he tested it. He made a mental note to tighten it later, then ran his hand along the top of the dresser.
His mother had sent several pieces like this to a restoration shop in Miami over the years. She always raved about the work, said the owner had an eye for bringing out the beauty in old things without destroying their character. Jack wondered if he should ask her for the contact information, see if they could restore more of the inn's furniture once they had the money.
If they ever had the money to spare again.
Jack shook his head and continued his inspection.
Thoughts of Logan teasing him about Holly filtered through Jack’s mind, and his heart did that strange twinge again when thinking of her. Annoyed at himself for letting her invade his thoughts, he shook it off. The inn was in trouble, his family was counting on him, and he couldn't afford to get distracted by a guest who made his heart race and his carefully maintained walls feel suddenly paper-thin.
But as he finished the second floor and headed back downstairs, he couldn't stop himself from glancing toward the dining room. Couldn't stop hoping for another glimpse of dark hair and green eyes.
He reached the bottom of the stairs and paused, his hand on the banister. Through the open doorway to the dining room, he heard laughter. Not Holly's voice, but another woman's. Probably her sister. And beneath it, a child's giggle. Trinity.
