Authors: Adelle Laudan
Everything changed with Jenna.
Jack stepped into his boots and trekked across the dewy grass where Tito thumped his tail against the barn door. He scratched his old friend behind the ears.
“Well, c’mon. It’s time to visit your family.”
For the first little while, he only allowed Tito in when he was there to watch over things, just to be on the safe side while the new mother bonded with the pups. So far, the new dad seemed content to just see them, not venturing too close.
Sasha raised her head to acknowledge their presence and went right back to being a mom. Her eight pups fought blindly for a teat to suckle. They squirmed on top of and under each other until they found a free teat to latch onto. Their tiny mews filled the barn as he replenished the fire. It was a duty he’d have to keep up with until the pups eyes were open and their instinct to keep warm on their own kicked in.
After the pups had their fill and lazed about, Jack managed to get Sasha to eat. She needed to keep her strength up and a good supply of milk for her brood. This was her third litter, and she showed no sign of disconnecting. It appeared she genuinely loved being a mother.
Jenna will make a good mother, too.
He laughed nervously. “Where the hell did that thought come from?”
The last time he’d entertained the idea of having children, he’d been happily married. Carly had wanted to be a mother in the worst way. He clenched his jaw as the unfulfilled longing tied his stomach in knots.
Having thoughts like that about Jenna scared the supreme crap out of him, but he had about as much control over his feelings for her as he did the weather. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his head, his attention drawn to a pair of boxers and one of Jenna’s shirts still hanging from a clothesline he’d strung across the barn.
Maybe I could look into a proper washer and dryer, too.
“Jenna, it’s time to get out of there. You’re going to catch a cold.”
“Oh.” She startled fully awake to find Edna standing next to the tub with a big, fluffy towel held open for her. It took a moment to get her bearings. “I guess I nodded off. How long have I been in here?”
She remembered slipping into warm, lavender-scented water and letting the tears fall. A ritual she’d performed so many times throughout her childhood whenever something upset her. Not one of those heartaches came even close to the pain she felt now.
You are dead to me.
Jenna shivered, suddenly very aware of the cold water she sat in—her skin resembled goose flesh.
“Too long! Now out with you.” Edna’s words were stern, but her eyes told another story.
“Thank you.” She welcomed the warmth of the towel her caretaker wrapped around her, easing her anxiety.
“I have a housecoat warming by the fire. Hurry and slip into it so we can do something with that hair of yours.”
Jenna hurried to the fireplace and slipped on the housecoat, pulling the collar up under her chin and reveling in its cozy warmth. She squished her toes in the plush carpet as she crossed the room to sit at her dressing table. Edna rubbed her hair with a dry towel before beginning the arduous task of pulling a brush through her hair. She tilted back her head and closed her eyes.
“Mmm, that feels so good. I remember my mother brushing my hair dry every night while she told stories about growing up on a horse farm.” Thankfully, for every bad situation life threw at her, there was a good memory to combat it.
“Your mother would be very proud of the strong woman you’ve become.”
Edna’s voice always had such a calming effect on her. She focused on the pull of the brush and warmth of the fire. She might not have had her father’s love, but the love shown to her by Edna, Grace, the cook, and especially Charles, was far more than most people experienced in a lifetime.
And then came Jack...
She smiled, remembering the first time he’d brushed her hair
…and I fell asleep in his arms.
Edna setting the brush down abruptly ended the precious memory. She rubbed her upper arms, missing his touch against her skin.
Jenna saw the compassion and worry in the housekeeper’s misty eyes as she gazed at her in the mirror while smoothing her now shiny hair. Charles probably told her about what her father said.
Please forgive me, but I just can’t talk about it right now.
“Charles would like you to join him for a meal.” Edna gathered the damp towels.
Knowing her mentor, he was probably worried sick about her. “Tell him I’ll be down in half an hour.”
Jenna got up and stood in the doorway of her walk-in closet. She perused row upon row of color-coded clothing sorted by dresses, shirts, skirts and more. Her gaze traveled up to the ceiling of shelves filled with shoes for every occasion and then some.
“Wow.”
Back home with Jack, she had a couple shoes and a pair of rubber boots. Her wardrobe consisted of two pairs of jeans, half a dozen tops and two bulky knit sweaters. She flipped over a price tag dangling from one of her dresses—five hundred dollars. It shamed her to think how she’d tossed about money on such frivolous things
.
I’m definitely not the same girl who didn’t think twice about spending that much on a dress. A dress I haven’t even worn.
Jenna rummaged through the closet until she found a pair of comfy yoga pants. She’d just pulled them up when a familiar item of clothing brought a smile to her face. She quickly discarded her housecoat for Jack’s oversized sweater she’d put in her bag at the last minute before leaving the cabin. She brought the ragged sleeves to her face and inhaled his lingering scent on the misshaped knit.
It’s too bad there isn’t a way to communicate with him.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. Her shiny red hair fell in waves down the front of the forest green sweater. She smiled at her reflection, happy with the woman looking back at her. The only time she glanced in the mirror at the cabin was in the morning when she brushed her teeth. It wasn’t a matter of not caring how she looked anymore; Jack gave her all the positive affirmation needed. Without words, he told her with his eyes, usually coupled with a lop-sided grin, just how beautiful he thought she was every single day, and that’s all that really mattered to her.
The polished marble tile was cold against her bare feet as she made her way down the staircase to the foyer.
Something is different...
She paused midway.
Father’s portraits are gone
.
All that remained of the paintings were
s
everal large squares of wallpaper untouched by age.
Her nose twitched as the scent of flowers wafted up to her.
What the...?
Her gaze settled on a large arrangement of cheery yellow roses atop a table in front of an open window. The last time she remembered flowers—or the windows opened wide—her mother was alive. It was as if her spirit had been set free in the house once again. A smile played on her lips as she made her way to the solarium, her favorite room on the estate.
“Well, hello there.” Charles kissed her on the cheek and held out a chair.
“Thank you.”
She caught him giving her attire a once over, but kept any comments he might have had to himself. The quiet of the solarium grew a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to act. She couldn’t be the grieving daughter some might expect her to be, and chanced a look at her friend through her lashes.
“Listen, Jenna, I’m sorry how things turned out. If I thought there was even the slightest chance of something like that happening, I would never have brought you back here.”
She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin, willing the hurt and anger away. “We both know what kind of man my father is...was. For a minute, I forgot and allowed myself to think there might be a final heartfelt moment between us.” She sipped from her water glass. “Do you mind if we not talk about this anymore?”
“You’re quite a gal.” Charles took a bottle from the ice bucket at the tableside. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Sure, why not.” She gazed up at the canopy of stars they dined under. It brought comfort in knowing even though Jack was hundreds of miles away, they shared the same breathtaking view.
Conversation flowed easily as they enjoyed a meal of scrumptious cracked crab. She’d forgotten what an incredible cook Grace was as she eased back in her chair and wiped the butter from her chin.
“What would you like to do with the rest of the evening?”
“Actually, I think I’d like to visit my mother’s sitting room and see if I can’t find some answers to those cryptic entries I told you about.” Now that her father was gone, she could move about the estate freely.
“You’d mentioned wanting to take a closer look, so I took the liberty of having the room spruced up. Are you sure you’re up to it?”
Jenna smiled and got up from the table. “Yes, I guess seeing the flowers in the foyer have me feeling a little nostalgic. Thank you, for everything.”
“If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll tend to a few things while you explore.” He balled up his napkin and pushed away from the table to stand. “You don’t have to do this today.”
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. “Don’t worry about me. You go do what you need to do.”
“I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he stammered.
Jenna kissed his flushed cheek. “Relax, I’m joking. You need to loosen up, old man. Go get a massage or something.” She winked playfully on her way out of the solarium.
Mounting trepidation slowed her pace, however, as she meandered to her parents’ wing of the estate.
Jenna mindfully opened the door where, only a short time ago, her father lay dying. She breathed a sigh of relief to find the bed stripped and windows open wide. The sweet scent of freshly cut roses masked any lingering smell of death. She squished her toes in the lush, white carpet, worlds away from the rustic hardwood floors of the cabin, and forced her gaze away from the spot her father had discarded her.
The sitting room door opened with a creek, and the breeze from the open window married the scent of roses and lily-of-the-valley perfume. It had to have been Edna’s idea to spray her mother’s perfume in the room. Her gaze settled on the rocking chair where a fresh, hand-knit throw hung over the arm.
Thank you, Edna.
How many nights did I spend sitting on Mother’s lap right there?
Precious memories.
Her eyes misted as she opened the small closet to find boxes and baskets of various sizes and colors lined the shelves. One container in particular caught her eye, a floral hatbox hidden behind a tub filled with an assortment of hair barrettes. She wasn’t able to shake the feeling she was somehow treading on forbidden territory as her hand trembled when she lifted the lid.
Jenna sat in her mother’s chair and laid the soft knit over her legs. The container was filled with letters in neat bundles, tied with ribbon. The yellowish edges of some told of their age.
She took out what looked to be the oldest pile and gently tugged at the ribbon. The letter wasn’t addressed to her mother.
Ursula Jennings
?
If she remembered correctly, her mother’s mother…a departed grandmother she never knew existed until after her passing.
If they were mailed to my grandmother, why did Mother have these?
Jenna flipped the envelope over to find no postal stamp or marking of any kind.
Hmm...
She carefully took the stationary out of the envelope and unfolded it. Her mother’s familiar handwriting sprawled across the page. The letter dated only months before she married.
Mother,
I am a very lucky woman to have a job here at the Ski Resort, but I’m terribly homesick and missing my Angel. I have to keep reminding myself it’s only for six weeks and I’ll make twenty times the money I would working on the farm.
Jenna furrowed her brow
. Missing my Angel…who?
She knew her mother was raised on a horse farm, but she’d never talked about working at the resort. So far the letter added to her confusion, not answered her questions as she continue reading...
I think some of the men here aren’t so interested in skiing as they are in the girls. I don’t care for the way they look at me. However, I did meet a rather polite man today. His name is Kenneth. My heartbeat races every time he glances my way. I hope to see him again.
It became obvious this letter was written at the same time as the last entry in her diary. Jenna continued to read the neatly written lines. She could almost feel her mother falling in love, telling the story of the loving man Jenna remembered from her childhood—full of laughter and spontaneity.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, picturing a little girl at the window, waiting for Daddy to come home after a business trip, because she knew he’d have something special hidden behind his back just for her.
Polar opposites of the father who spoke such hurtful words on his death bed.