Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,51

one area to another, taking the cards and putting them in the little turkey holders Jane had placed on the table. She moved a few chairs, swapping one for another, and within a few minutes everyone had a place and there was more useable space.

Thankful the decision was out of her hands, Jane could go back to her cooking. There was still a lot of prep to do, and she had guests coming in a few hours.

Along with Christmas—which was just magical—Thanksgiving was Jane’s other favorite holiday. It was all about spending time with those you love, sharing a meal, sharing stories, and being together. There were no gifts other than the gift of time.

She supposed that made her lucky. Whatever the future brought her way, Jane had a lot of wonderful people in her life. She’d never be alone. Even though Tara and her mother were heading off on their own paths, this would always be home for them. And she had her store.

She hoped she did, anyway. She still hadn’t heard from her landlord, and now she wasn’t the only one who was concerned; her lawyer was as well.

Jane didn’t want to waste her energy on what-ifs, but there was a vibe in the universe that was telling her something bad was swirling around, and the shop didn’t feel safe. If she had a clue what she was dealing with, she could take action. Without information, she was frozen in place.

As she measured and mixed her special cornbread, Jane tried to put the troubles at the store out of her head. There wasn’t anything she could do about it. But the baking helped. As did all the other prep. She could focus on simple tasks like measuring and mixing. Anything to keep her mind off her worries.

Tara and her mother were sitting at the island chopping vegetables, which would go in a myriad of dishes, including her corn and clam chowder. Always a favorite, she tweaked the recipe from time to time either out of boredom, or a guest’s dietary needs. This year, there wouldn’t be any variations, just her tried and true favorites made with lots of love. She smiled at the two of them, and reveled in how much she loved them both. In spite of her troubles, she was a lucky woman. Jane couldn’t forget that, even though sometimes it was hard to block out the static that made her feel otherwise.

Chloe’s head popped up and she let out a little woof. It was recognition rather than alarm. A familiar-sounding car could have been coming down the street and Chloe just wanted her to know. “What is it, girl?” Jane asked.

“Maybe Aunt Tracy is here.” Tara shrugged. “She said she would be over early to help.”

“I hope she wore her pajamas,” Mom said, wiggling her behind. It was true, they were all still in their pajamas, and Jane was rocking her special Thanksgiving pair, complete with her turkey slippers. Chloe jumped up, barking her way into the mudroom. Jane heard the back door open, and then the ticking and squeaking from the dog’s excitement.

“We’re in the kitchen, Trace.” Jane was surprised her friend was here so early. She was not a morning person.

“I’m not Tracy, but I come bearing breakfast.” The smooth baritone triggered a combination of excitement and panic. She was split between, a sighing “Oh, he’s here,” to a nervous “Why is he here?”

When he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, Jane’s hormones, what was left of them anyway, went south. Dressed in tight jogging pants and a fitted athletic shirt that emphasized every muscle in his broad chest, Danny had obviously been out for a run. He was holding out two paper shopping bags—one from the bakery and the other from the bagel store.

“Good morning, ladies.” He tilted his head to her mom and Tara. Her mother smiled in response, and Tara sprung off her stool like a jackrabbit.

“Ohhh! Yes! Bagels!” Tara dashed over to take the bags. “You are amazing. I’m starved.”

Jane looked at the plate on the counter near the stove and raised her hands. “I made cinnamon rolls this morning. You ate two!”

Smiling Tara pulled bagels from the bag, drawing in the aroma. “Mmmm. These smell delish. Oh, cream cheese and lox? You brought lox?”

Jane never bought the salty cured salmon to go with bagels; as far as she knew, no one else liked it but her. “Since when do you eat lox?”

“When I went to visit Callie at

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