“Now I’m watching him look at Isabella like she hung the moon,” Holly said softly. “Watching him paint his nails with glitter polish because it makes two twelve-year-old girls happy. Seeing him actually consider staying somewhere, building something permanent.” She paused. “It’s the inn. Your mother’s right. There’s something special here.”
They were approaching the inn now, the building coming into view with its warm lights and welcoming presence. The sun was rising over the ocean behind them, painting the sky in shades ofpink and gold.
Holly found herself thinking about that magic Jack’s mother talked about. How it seemed to be weaving through all of them, creating connections and opening hearts that had been closed.
And maybe, just maybe, it was affecting her too.
She didn’t say it aloud. Wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. But she felt it warming her chest like the sunrise warming the sand beneath their feet.
They reached the inn’s entrance, and Jack turned to her with that soft smile that made her heart do complicated things.
“Breakfast after we shower?” he asked. “Before we tackle that second-floor woodwork?”
“Sounds perfect,” Holly agreed.
They parted with a lingering look that said more than words could, and Holly watched him head toward his workshop before she turned toward the inn’s main entrance.
As she stepped inside, she was surprised to see Gabe coming down the main staircase. The sun was barely up, and here was her son already dressed for the day, moving carefully with the medical boot but with clear purpose in his stride.
“You’re up early,” Holly commented, crossing the lobby to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. Maternal concern was automatic, ingrained after thirty-two years of being his mother. “You’re on vacation, sweetheart, you know you can sleep in now. Like you used when you were on school vacation.”
“That was a blast from the past and a long time ago. I couldn’t sleep,” Gabe said, but there was something in his voice that caught her attention. Not restlessness exactly, but determination. “I thought I’d get an early start helping Jane with the ballroom. Trinity, Maddy, and Christopher are not back from Isabella’s yet, and he messaged to say he’d be back later. So I figured Jane could use an extra pair of hands.”
Something tugged at Holly’s heart as she looked at her son. Really looked at him.
She saw the lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there six years ago. The way he held himself with military precision, even in casual clothes. The careful way he moved, not just because of the injured foot but because he’d learned to always be aware, always be ready.
Her beautiful, broken son who’d been pushing himself to the breaking point for six years.
She knew he volunteered for the most dangerous missions. Christopher had told her that much, though he’d tried to soften it. She knew Gabe took assignments that would terrify her if she knew the full extent of them, that he seemed to be looking for something in the violence and chaos of combat zones.
Running from his grief instead of through it.
And standing here in the early morning light, watching him prepare to spend his day helping with decorations and renovation work, Holly wished with everything in her that some of Julie’s Christmas magic would touch her son’swounded heart.
That whatever healing happened at this inn, whatever peace people found here, would find its way to Gabe. That he could stop running and start healing. That he could forgive himself for whatever he was punishing himself for.
Because if anyone deserved peace, it was her son.
“That’s kind of you,” Holly said, keeping her voice light even as emotion threatened to close her throat. “I’m sure Jane will appreciate the help.”
Gabe nodded, already moving toward the hallway that led to the ballroom. As he walked past her, he hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Love you.” He smiled, calling over his shoulder, “See you later, Mom.”
“Be careful on that foot,” Holly called after him, unable to help herself.
He raised a hand in acknowledgment without turning around, and then he was gone.
Holly stood in the lobby for a long moment, listening to the inn settle around her. Somewhere upstairs, she knew Charlie was probably rising. Through the windows, she could see Logan heading into his workshop, Duke trotting faithfully at his heels.
And in the ballroom of this beautiful, magical inn, her son was trying to outrun ghosts that wouldn’t let him rest.
Holly closed her eyes and silently asked whatever magic lived in these walls. Whatever force Julie Christmas believed in that brought broken people together and helped them heal.
Please,she thought.Please let my son find peace. Let him open his heart again. Let him stop punishing himself for surviving when Abigail didn’t. Let him remember that he deserves to be happy too.
Then Holly squared her shoulders, wiped the moisture from her eyes, and headed upstairs to shower and change.
There was work to do, a vacation to enjoy, and a family to hold together.
