Jolene smiled as she accepted the hand she offered, noting she wore a French manicure on her fingernails this week. Much more sophisticated for a married woman. Jolene chided herself for judging a stranger, especially now that she was family.
“So nice to see you in person instead of cell phone screen,” Jolene said. “I hope you don’t think I’ve tracked you down and followed in hot pursuit to steal back my father.” She bit her tongue, chastising herself for the stupid introductory speech.
But Barbie laughed seemingly unaffected at her even suggesting such a thing. “Your father raves about you all the time. And never did he give me the inclination that you were a stalker. I’m excited we will have this time to get acquainted.”
“Me, as well,” Jolene said.
The ladies sat down and when Jolene looked toward her father, she noticed that he remained fixed in position, staring at the entrance to the dining room. Jolene twisted her head in that direction and noticed Craig standing there with a knock-out woman on his arm. Jolene felt relieved to be seated. What on earth was he doing here? Was this old home week at Heritage Inn?
Immediately, the mystery gift came to mind and she studied her father again. Maybe he did send the weeks vacation, after all, knowing Craig was going to be here. Trouble was she couldn’t recall introducing her ex to her father, so why was he gawking so openly at the couple? She covered a chuckle with her hand, and the picture that came to her mind helped to settle her nerves – maybe the sweet-young-thing hanging off Craig’s arm was one of the women he’d had a fling with during his not-so-long-ago wild days.
Jolene tugged at her father’s arm and motioned to his vacant chair. When seated next to her, she noticed him break out in a sweat and grew concerned. “What’s the matter, Father?” she whispered. “Didn’t expect that your sin would seek you out?”
His expression changed to one of horror. “What do you mean?”
“That gal at the door, showing up on your honeymoon week. You should have taken your own advice about not playing the field.”
“You think I dated her?” Trace asked.
“The way you’re google-eyeing her, I was beginning to wonder,” Jolene said. “Surely your eye can’t be wandering so early in the marriage.”
“I wasn’t looking at her any such way. Be careful how you talk to your old man,” he scowled. “I’m beginning to wish we’d gone abroad, but Barbie loves this place, especially with the Christmas theme starting up tomorrow.”
Barbie squealed at the mention of the holiday. “Horses could not drag me from here. Do you like Christmas Jolene, or are you a Scrooge like your father?”
“I love Christmas, and so does daddy. He just doesn’t want you to think he’s a softie.”
She snuggled in close to her husband. “I already know he is all bark and no bite, so he may as well relax and let the miracle of the season grab his soul. And since this is our first of many Christmas celebrations together, I plan for it to be our very best.”
Jolene studied her father as he poured far too much of the house dressing on his salad. She leaned close. “Remember what the doctor said about your cholesterol, daddy. A little bit is sufficient – you don’t need to drench the greens.”
Trace Sumpter threw one of his warning glances her way. “Don’t start, girl. I can still afford airfare to Paris and leave you in our dust.”
That remark bordered on unbridled anger, a part of him she rarely saw. She bit her lip and bowed her head to say a quiet blessing for the food, and while she was at it, she beseeched God to take control of this vacation that was fast turning into a nightmare. The last thing she wanted was to spend a week with her father and his bride or Craig and his latest tart.
After dinner, Jolene pleaded a headache to escape the lovebirds at the table, and left the dining room to explore the Inn. She soon located what was labeled, “The Quiet Room” and found an awesome library with books that lined an entire wall of every genre a guest could want. Maybe she’d just grab a weeks’ worth and hide out on her suite’s balcony, which overlooked the lake, and read about fictional women who always seemed to get it together and find true love.
That was a cop-out and she scolded herself for being such a chicken, but she determined to put her feet up and relax here for the evening. A good story always managed to relieve any stress lurking just below the surface that fought to steal her peace of mind. It did not take long to find a historical romance book and she settled into a comfy chair.
She missed the sunset, and failed to notice that any who’d found her quiet haven after the dinner hour had long since gone. The Inn had settled into a low hum when Jolene finally decided to take the book and finish it in her room. She pushed herself forward in the armchair and immediately felt a presence. Her eyes darted to the doorway and there he stood, leaning against the frame staring at her.
While attempting to regain her composure, she literally stumbled to her feet, nearly sprawling head-first into the small table in front of her. He did not rush to her rescue, but crossed his arms and activated that tell-tale lift at the corner of his lips, which summoned the cutest dimples she’d ever seen on a grown man to appear. She felt the heat rising up her neck and ordered it to calm. Craig was not hers anymore. She’d thrown him to the pack, and now, the finest of she-wolves held him captive.
“This is
