Page 40 of Hensley Manor
The men helped chop it down and load it on the trailer. A guy then latched the trailer to the back of a four-wheeler and drove at a slow speed back to the manor.
The twelve-foot tree was positioned in front of the windows in the great hall. Once it was secure, we—along with the other guests—started decorating it. Multiple strings of golden lights and garland were placed on the tree before we began hanging the ornaments we’d made days ago.
Ken hung his wooden ornament on a branch and Hannah placed hers beside his. They had each made half of a heart, and when held together, they completed the picture.
Cheesy but sweet.
I held the one I’d made, searching for an empty space to stick it.
The decoration had mostly been a joke on my part. Ian had dared me to make the most festive, over-the-top ornament and I totally took him up on that challenge and nailed it. The ornament was a blue orb covered in plastic gemstones and had a shit load of glitter. I had also glued fake feathers onto it, making it look like some deranged Christmas peacock.
Ian loved it.
“The Christmas peacock should go here,” Ian said, pointing to a branch in the middle of the tree. “Front and center.”
Grinning, I hung it where he suggested and stepped back, cocking my head as I studied it. Not too bad.
“He needs a name,” I said, tapping my chin. “Hensley the peacock has a nice ring to it.”
Ian’s arm came around me, and his cheeks were pink from him laughing. “It’s perfect.”
After the tree was decorated and Ian finished speaking with the members of the quartet, we washed up for dinner and walked into the dining hall. We sat at the long table, Ian at the head and me beside him, and enjoyed salad for an appetizer before digging into the main course, which was sweet potato and butternut squash soup with homemade bread.
Having eaten hearty meals every night for over a week, I didn’t see how I’d ever go back to fast-food. I didn’t know how I was going to handle going back home at all. A big part of me wanted to stay in Evergreen Valley. With Ian.
Of course that was crazy talk. I usually rolled my eyes at people who uprooted their whole lives for love.
And now I’m considering doing the same.
“What about you, Cole?” Tracy asked, pulling me from my thoughts. She sat across the table. Jolie sat beside her, both of them looking expectantly at me.
“Huh?”
“When are you leaving the manor? We’re not leaving until two days after Christmas.”
“Um.” I glanced at Ian, who had gone still and stared a bit too intently at his glass of wine. I suspected he was attentively listening for my response. Maybe dreading it, too. “I think I’m only booked until Christmas. So, I’ll probably leave whenever I can catch a flight.”
Which reminded me that I needed to call the airline again. They’d never found my supposedly missing luggage, so I didn’t have much faith in them to begin with. Plus, the manner in which I’d arrived still felt too odd.
Magical, even.
“Ah, we’re going to miss you.” Jolie frowned. “You plan to return next year, right? You might be new to our little family, but you’ve become a good friend.”
“There’s really no place like Hensley Manor,” I responded, moving my gaze to Ian. His blue eyes met mine, and that sad look I’d seen so often returned. Except now, it wasn’t because of his loneliness or remembrance of past heartache, but because of a future he didn’t want to come to pass. I didn’t want it to, either. My next words answered Jolie but were said directly to Ian. “I know I’ll be back. Honestly, I don’t even want to leave.”
He looked away, that familiar crease marring his brow.
The place in the center of my chest hurt, like a knife slowly being turned inside the cavity. I never wanted to see that look on Ian’s face again. Especially when I was the one who put it there.
But could I really leave my job and my home for a man I’d only known for nine days? And what about Lance?
I didn’t know what to do.
George told stories from his youth as we ate. Back in his day, according to him, he was happy to have gotten an orange and a peppermint stick in his stocking on Christmas morning.
I smiled as he talked, but my mind was elsewhere.
Ian didn’t look at me much during the rest of dinner, even less so during dessert. He sat quietly, only responding when asked a direct question. He seemed so damn sad. I was sure I didn’t look much happier.
