Page 9 of The Christmas Cottage
“I’ll cherish whatever time I can get with you,” Mabel said firmly, taking the last sip of her coffee and getting up to carry the mug and the platter of scones back to the counter. Vanessa jumped up first, taking them both before Mabel could.
“You should be more careful with that wrist,” she chided gently, and the concern warmed Mabel’s heart a bit.
“I’ll be all right,” she said, getting up. “We should get you set up at Hearthside Cottage. That’s the local B&B. I would have had you stay with me, but my spare room is set up as a little library, and I didn’t think you’d want to sleep on the couch, even if it is a pullout.”
“The B&B sounds fine,” Vanessa said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to impose anyway.”
She said it sweetly enough, but Mabel couldn’t help but think that everything she said was so stiff. As if she was constantly worried about speaking out of turn or upsetting someone. Always so carefully detached, without any warmth.
“I’ll close up for an hour or so and we’ll get you settled,” she said decisively, pushing the thought away. She grabbed her coat and gloves and led Vanessa out of the shop, locking up behind them, and they started the walk to the Hearthside Cottage.
As they walked, she couldn’t help but notice the high-heeled boots Vanessa was wearing. They looked new, made of soft, slick-looking leather, with pointed toes and thin, high heels. They weren’t practical in the slightest for snow, or cobblestones, or icy sidewalks, and Mabel knew that if the rest of Vanessa’swardrobe was anything like this, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb the entire time she was in Fir Tree Grove.
As happy as she was to see her granddaughter, she couldn’t help but wonder, for Vanessa’s sake, if maybe the trip had been a mistake. If it might just make Vanessa feel more cut off than she clearly already did.
Mabel led the way up the stairs as they arrived at the B&B, a large, rustic log structure with a wraparound porch and heavy overhanging eaves that were covered in snow. The porch was looped with garlands and lights, a herd of gold-wire reindeer out front and other snowy woodland creatures on the other side. There were rocking chairs out front with plaid cushions on them, and small wreaths on every window, finished off with a massive wreath on the front door.
When they walked in, Christopher Holcomb, the owner, was standing behind the front desk. He looked up as Mabel walked in and smiled broadly.
“Hello there. And who did you bring with you?” He glanced over at Vanessa, green eyes bright with interest, and Vanessa smiled politely.
Christopher was always friendly and cheerful, which Mabel thought was an impressive personality trait, considering how difficult things had been for him. His wife had passed away some years before, and he was too young for such a tragedy, only in his mid-thirties. No one would have blamed him for becoming sullen and withdrawn, but after the worst of his grief had passed, he’d continued to be the friendly innkeeper that Mabel knew and loved.
“My granddaughter, Vanessa,” Mabel said, stepping back a little. “I booked a room here for her. I was hoping you might be able to put her in one of the nicer rooms. You know, with a tub and fireplace and all of that.”
Christopher chuckled. “All of our rooms are nice, thank you very much.” He winked at Mabel. “But of course. I have the Poinsettia suite still available, which has a fireplace in the bedroom and a little reading room as well. I’ll put her up in that one.”
“You don’t have to—” Vanessa started to protest, but Mabel patted her arm.
“Just get settled in.” Mabel smiled at her. “We’ll catch up this evening.”
Vanessa looked as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. She nodded, giving her grandmother a quick hug, before getting out her ID and handing it to Christopher.
Mabel took one more look at her, and then headed back out into the crisp winter air.
CHAPTER SIX
Early on Tuesday, Jackson walked into the Snowdrift Diner just as it had opened for the morning. Christmas music was drifting over the speakers, playing a bright, festive backdrop as customers filtered in, bundled up and laughing, filled with the joy of the season. He paused at the doors for just a moment, enjoying the crisp bite of the air, the fresh morning chill, and the feeling of another new day starting.
He could hear the orders being taken as he walked to the counter—pumpkin French toast, brown sugar oatmeal, maple bacon omelets. The air was full of the scents of the season, savory and sweet, maple and fried meat and coffee. He breathed in deeply as he walked in, the familiar happiness filling him.
The Snowdrift Diner was his place, and he was proud of it. Proud of having a place where his neighbors and friends could come to share a cup of coffee, a meal, where they could get together and enjoy good food and conversation. This time of year especially, it felt cozy and warm, like everyone there was family. He took pride in everything about the diner, from the menu to the ingredients to the decor, and he was especially happy with how this year’s Christmas display had turned out.
He couldn’t help—as he walked in—but think of the woman who had come into the diner the day before. He’d found out since that Mabel Stewart’s granddaughter’s name was Vanessa, and that she was presumably here for the holiday, which he’d guessed from their brief conversation over coffee.
Although word on the street was that she’d only gotten a room for just a couple of days at Hearthside, he’d also heard that it was an open-ended stay. He wouldn’t be surprised to know it was the former, since she’d seemed pretty uncomfortable while she was sitting at the counter. He glanced around, wondering if he’d see her sitting there this morning, wanting that cup of coffee he’d promised. But she was nowhere to be seen in the throng of hungry customers.
“Jackson!” The familiar voice of George Lowery, the owner of the Merry Pines Christmas Tree Farm, carried over to him as he walked around the counter. “How are you this morning?”
“Can’t complain,” Jackson said cheerfully, picking up a pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup. He glanced around again, wondering if he’d missed her the first time. He hadn’t realized until he came in that he’d really been hoping she might stop by. He was even more curious about her now that he knew who she was. “You?”
“You seem a bit distracted this morning, is all.” George grinned at him, one bushy eyebrow raised. “Anything interesting to tell?”
“Not that I can think of.” Jackson poured a bit of pumpkin creamer into his coffee, and as he did, he couldn’t help but think of Vanessa again, and her small pile of creamers. She haddefinitelybeen distracted. “Nothing, really. Just thinking about what needs to get done for the day.”
And the new arrival in town.
But he wouldn’t say that. The last thing he needed was for gossip in town to get started about something that didn’t evenexist. He wasn’t even sure he’d see her again. She hadn’t seemed like she planned on sticking around for very long.
