Jack swallowed back the tears burning his throat. Everyone was working so hard. For him. For his family. For the inn.
Isabella and Mrs. Hurling had made multiple trips upstairs with trays of sandwiches, cookies, and coffee. They’d promised a delicious dinner at eight o’clock for everyone who was helping.
“Dad, can I talk to you?” Jane’s voice called from down the hallway. She stood near the door of Room Seven, gesturing for him to join her.
Jack nodded, his heart clenching. He thought he knew what this was about. His mother had said she was going to find Jane as soon as she’d left his office after delivering the news about what really happened thirty years ago with Pamela.
Jack followed Jane into Room Seven, but as the door had just been painted, he couldn’t close it properly.
“Gran told me,” Jane said without preamble. She was leaning against the dresser, her arms crossed. “About Pamela. About the money. About everything.”
“That must’ve been such a shock,” Jack said carefully, studying his daughter’s face. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I also just found out today.”
Jane nodded and was quiet for a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Strangely, I’m more relieved than anything else. Now I know exactly how much I was worth to the woman who gave birth to me. Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That’s my value to Pamela.”
Her voice was bitter, but there was also a finality to it. Like she’d closed a door she’d been trying to keep open for years.
Jack moved closer and pulled his daughter into his arms. Jane hugged him back fiercely, then pulled away and looked up at him.
“I don’t hold a grudge against Gran,” Jane said firmly. “I understand why she did it. Honestly, I would have done the same thing if I’d been in her place. Protected my child and grandchild from a woman like that.” She paused. “She probably should have told us sooner, but I can kind of see why she didn’t. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.”
“Your grandmother loves you more than anything,” Jack said. “Everything she’s ever done has been to protect you.”
“I know,” Jane said. “And Dad? I’m glad Pamela left. I’m glad I grew up without her. Whatever she thinks she’s offering me now, I don’t want it. I have everything I need right here.”
Jack felt his throat tighten with emotion. “I’m proud of you, Jane. So proud.”
“At least now Pamela has no ammunition over us,” Jane said. “No secrets she can use againstthe family.”
Jack agreed, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Pamela would find some other angle. She always did.
As if she could hear them talking about her, Jane’s phone beeped with a message. Jane pulled it out and looked at the screen. Her expression darkened immediately.
“I can’t believe this,” Jane said, her voice rising with anger. “Listen to this.”
She read the message aloud:
“Jane, baby, I know you must be angry with me. But we have to meet, sweetheart. There’s a lot you don’t know. Like, I’m not trying to steal your home. No. Victor is buying it for us, you and me, because your grandfather cut you out of his will, sweetie. I know you probably don’t know this, but because you’re part of my bloodline, your paternal grandparents cut you out of their will. You will never inherit the inn. But Victor and I are going to change that for you. So please, sweety, we need to meet. There’s a lot you don’t know about your grandparents and why I actually left thirty years ago.”
“It’s like she has some sort of listening device on us or something,” Jack said, making a mental note to check for bugs. The timing was too perfect.
“What a cow,” Jane seethed, her hands clenching around her phone.
“Maybe you should go and meet her,” Gabe’s voice from the doorway made them both jump.
He was balanced on his crutches, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
“It’s okay,” Jane assured him, then looked at Jack. “I told Gabe everything. We don’t have secrets from each other.”
Jack smiled at that and nodded his approval. “I agree with Gabe. You should meet her.”
“Just don’t sign anything,” Gabe said firmly. “Not even the check if you go to a café or something. Nothing with your signature on it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Jane promised. She looked down at her phone and typed a response. “Sure. Why not? When and where?”
The response came almost immediately: “Tomorrow morning, 9 a.m., at the Corner Café.”
Jane showed them the message, and Jack felt a mix of concern and determination. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day. As well as one that would determine if they had turned all their guests away and canceled the ball at the last minute if Abe wasn’t happy with the inspection.
