Page 3 of Christmas at Valentine Inn

“I’m fine,” I responded to George.

He tilted his head, a mischievous smile playing on his thin lips. “You’re not, but you will be.” See, he knew things.

I hadn’t been fine for a while. I thought letting my ex-husband buy me out of the interior design firm we owned and moving among the majestic Teton mountains and buying the inn with Charlotte would have brought me thisthingI was looking for. I wasn’t sure what thethingwas, but when I’d visited Fair Hollow for the first time a few years ago with Charlotte, I’d had a feeling it was here. Like I said, this place is weird, and it gave me strange thoughts. Sadly, I hadn’t found thething. I wasn’t even sure it existed.

I shrugged and sighed. I didn’t have time to worry about if I was fine or not. We were in full-on wedding and holiday mode. There was no room for thethingwhen you were having no less than two dozen real pine trees delivered the next day. All of which needed to be decorated. We were seriously decking the halls this year. Falalalala. Each guest room would have its own tree, and the ballroom where Drake and Charlotte would become man and wife in thirty days would have a whopping eight trees. This blessed event was going to be a freaking winter wonderland in an enchanted forest when I was done with it. There would be no sleeping until the New Year rolled around.

In trying to keep the wedding of the decade a secret, I had volunteered to be the wedding coordinator and decorator. It was in a moment of pure insanity, obviously. But to see Charlotte so happy made it worth it. Well, mostly.

Sweet George took my hand with his aged and curled fingers. “I hope you’re ready for a magical season, dear one.”

“Christmas?” I mean, it was usually my favorite time of year, but the only thing magical this year would be if I didn’t lose my ish.

George’s eyes twinkled the way they did when he knew something we didn’t.

I swallowed hard.

George’s smile said he was pleased by my trepidation. Not sure what I was afraid of exactly, but with George involved, anything seemed to be possible. He looked over the table admiring his handiwork. Two happy couples and a boy who was over the moon. For that reason alone, I tolerated Drake. And maybe because whenever he brought Charlotte flowers, he always thought to bring me a bouquet too. It’s kind of hard to hate someone who bribes you with roses on a regular basis.

“Have you been able to book the family suite yet?” George asked.

Charlotte fell into her seat next to Drake. She was positively glowing. I know she thought of herself as just a cute and perky blonde, but she was gorgeous, and this wholein lovething made her even more so. “No,” she answered George. “It’s been so weird. We thought for sure a family suite would be a big hit. Especially during the holidays and ski season, but we’ve had no takers.”

It was weird considering every room in the inn had been booked for weeks, even during the fall, which was considered the slow season here in Fair Hollow. We’d renovated the family suite to be kid friendly, installing a tree house and slide in the main living space. The suite was the one non-romantic place in the entire inn. Well, I could picture myself up in the “tree house” rolling around. I probably shouldn’t think like that, but it had been a while and I could do with some romance. I would even take just a kiss from a non-felon. But again, I had no time for myself right now.

“Hmm.” George drummed his fingers against the table, a Cheshire grin growing upon his wrinkled face. “How veryinteresting.”

Interestingwas a dangerous word coming out of George’s mouth.

I didn’t have time for any surprises. All I needed right now was to shove stuffing and pie in my mouth until it was uncomfortable to button my pants. After that I would be working on arranging the ornaments for the gold-and-white themed trees for the ballroom. Oh yes, this wedding was all glitzy glamour. My maid of honor dress had enough gold sequins on it to blind a person. Which reminded me: I probably shouldn’t eat all the stuffing and pie. The dress drove all my curves like a Maserati, tight and hot. Basically, I looked like a walking midlife crisis in it. But Charlotte loved the dress and thought it was meant for me. She said it went perfectly with my wild, dark curls and creamy skin. I wasn’t so sure. Especially since I was liberally applying retinol and collagen all day every day in a desperate attempt to cling to a vestige of my youthful skin. Not sure it was helping. Whoever came up with the termforty and fabuloushad probably been too drunk in their twenties to remember the wonders of snappy skin. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for the snap of my skin when I was twenty-five.

Charlotte returned George’s mischievous grin with one of her own. Unlike me, she lived for George’s magic, as she called it. “Do you have someone in mind?” Charlotte’s blue eyes lit up.

George gave me a thoughtful glance. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

My stomach dropped for some reason.

“Really?” Charlotte bounced in her seat.

“Mom, I want to cut the turkey,” Jameson complained. Jameson was all about anything sharp and anything explosive. It made sense, given his dad was known to most of the world as Kaden Chandler, international spy. On the big screen, that is. He was constantly blowing things up. As well as stabbing and shooting people. When he wasn’t doing that, his character was bedding all the women in the film. He was a great role model for my nephew.

“Let’s say grace, and then you and your dad can carve the turkey,” Charlotte suggested.

Meanwhile, George kept looking at me strangely. I wanted to blurt, “Say it already, old man,” but I refrained. I knew he had something up his sleeve.

Jameson crawled on Drake’s lap. Drake wrapped one arm around him and his other around Charlotte. “Dad, will you say grace?” Drake asked Calvin.

Calvin, who was just an older version of his son, stood, honored. He took Nora’s hand before he bowed his head.

I watched it all, aching inside for someone’s arms to be in or a hand to hold. I had to blink back tears. After all, I had a reputation to uphold as the snarky sister.

As if George could read my mind, he took my hand. It wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but I would take it.

“Have faith, dear one,” George muttered out of the side of his mouth before Calvin began to pray.

Have faith in what? I didn’t get to ask.

“Dear Lord, we are thankful for this year, to become a family again,” Calvin choked up. “To be in this special place together.”

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