“Christopher told me how Gabe got injured,” Holly said quietly, her pace slowing slightly without her meaning to. “Saving hostages. Going into a situation that was already compromised.” She swallowed hard. “The reality of what my son faces, what he’s been facing for years, while I’ve been pretending the danger isn’t real.”
She’d been doing that, hadn’t she? She distanced herself from thinking about it too deeply. Because if she let herself really think about the missions Gabe volunteered for, the risks he took, the violence he walked into regularly, she would drive herself completely insane with worry.
“Especially after what happened to Abigail,” Holly continued, surprised to hear herself speaking the words aloud. She found Jack so easy to talk to. Over the past five days, they’d learned so much about each other, shared things she hadn’t shared with anyone. “I knew that if I let myself think about the danger Gabe faced every day, I’d fall apart. And I couldn’t do that. I had to keep strong and together for Trinity.”
Her voice caught slightly. “That little girl had already lost her mother. She couldn’t have her grandmother falling apart every time herfather deployed.”
So Holly had learned to compartmentalize. To push the fear down deep and lock it away. To smile and wave when Gabe left for another assignment. To read his carefully edited emails and pretend she didn’t see what he wasn’t saying between the lines.
But seeing that boot, hearing Christopher’s explanation of what had actually happened, had cracked that careful distance wide open.
Jack reached over and squeezed her hand briefly. The gesture was simple but grounding, and Holly felt tears prick at her eyes.
She’d learned about Jack’s past over these five days too. His previous marriage to Pamela. How she’d walked out on her husband and three-year-old daughter for what she called a “better life.” Never looked back. No birthday cards. No Christmas presents. No phone calls on Jane’s birthday or holidays. Just cut her daughter off completely, as cold and final as slamming a door.
Holly couldn’t fathom it. As a mother, she couldn’t imagine ever doing something like that. And then to destroy Jack’s business out of spite years later because he dared to become successful after the divorce? The vindictiveness of it still shocked her.
What kind of woman did that? What kind of mother?
“Holly?” Jack’s voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts. “Are you still with me?”
“What?” Holly blinked, realizing she’d gone silent, her mind spinning through everything.
She slowed to a walk and then laughed when she saw Duke skid to a stop ahead of them. The dog had been racing forward and suddenly realized his humans weren’t running anymore. He came hurtling back toward them like a golden bullet, his tongue lolling happily.
“Sorry, my mind was just on other things.” Holly smiled up at Jack as they both caught their breath. They stretched their legs, the movement familiar and easy after five mornings of this routine. She reached down to scratch Duke’s ears, and the dog leaned into her touch with obvious contentment.
“I said you haven’t spent much time with him,” Jack said, and guilt clouded his eyes. “Between me occupying your time with the inn renovations and my daughter having roped Gabe and Trinity into helping with the ballroom, I’m afraid you’re not having much of a vacation or family time.”
“Are you kidding?” Holly straightened, looking at him with genuine surprise. “Jack, we’re having the best vacation ever. All of us.”
She meant it. Trinity was happier than Holly had seen her in years. The light had come back into her granddaughter’s eyes, the easy laughter that had been missing since Abigail died. Charlie seemed more relaxed, the tension she usually carried in her shoulders easing a little more each day. Even Gabe, despite the injury and the medical boot, seemed lighter somehow.
“We love it here,” Holly continued. “The inn, your family, all of it. The Christmas family feels like we’ve known you for years,not just days.”
They started walking again, cooling down as they headed back toward the inn. Duke trotted ahead, occasionally stopping to investigate interesting smells along the path.
“I’ve noticed changes in Gabe,” Holly said thoughtfully. “He’s been helping with the ballroom despite the boot. Trinity’s been trying to get him involved in everything.” She smiled slightly. “She has all the subtlety of a twelve-year-old when she’s matchmaking.”
Jack chuckled. “I’ve noticed. She’s been working overtime trying to push people together.”
“Both our daughters seem to have that tendency,” Holly agreed. “Though I have to admit, Trinity’s happiness here has been worth any lack of rest or traditional vacation activities. She’s blossomed.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the waves and Duke’s occasional snuffling filling the quiet spaces between them.
“Have you noticed how close Isabella and Christopher have gotten?” Holly asked, changing the subject slightly.
Jack nodded, a knowing smile crossing his face. “Hard not to notice. The way they look at each other. How protective Christopher has become. My mother would tell you it’s the inn’s Christmas magic weaving its spell.”
He said it with gentle humor, but there was something underneath the words. A belief, maybe, or at least an acknowledgment that something special happened at this inn.That people came here heavy with grief or problems, and somehow the place created space for new beginnings.
“I’m starting to believe in your mother’s magic and predictions,” Holly admitted. “I’ve now seen two of my loved ones falling in love. Charlie with Logan, and now Christopher with Isabella.” She shook her head in wonder. “Something I never thought I’d see those two ever do.”
“Why’s that?” Jack asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
“Charlie’s been married to her career for as long as I’ve known her,” Holly explained. “She’s a brilliant attorney, completely focused on building her career. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her date anyone seriously. And Christopher?” She smiled fondly. “He’s never stayed anywhere long enough to put down roots. Always moving to the next assignment, the next place. I worried he’d spend his whole life running.”
“And now?” Jack prompted.
