Second Chance Christmas: A January Cove Novella

by Rachel Hanna

  Second Chance Christmas

  A January Cove Novella

  Rachel Hanna

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Also by Rachel Hanna

  Foreword

  Welcome to this January Cove Christmas novella! Before you get started reading, I’d love to invite you to join my VIP Reader Group on Facebook! This is where I announce new releases, do contests and open applications for my Advance Reader Groups. Click the image below to sign up!

  1

  Claire stood in the middle of the room. This was her life, the thing that had brought her here. And now it was all about to come to fruition. Months of hard work after a year of heartbreak. It was all going to be okay.

  Maybe.

  Leaving her beloved New York City and coming all the way to this tiny Georgia beach town had been a leap of faith, for sure. Her friends back home thought she was crazy. Why couldn’t she just stay there and make a new start? Why had she pursued this insane idea of running a dance studio in a small beach town she knew nothing about?

  After all, she could’ve had her pick of jobs as a dance teacher in Manhattan or any of the surrounding areas. She was known there. She’d had her career there. And then she’d lost her career there over a year ago.

  There’s something about grief. It presents itself at the strangest times. And right now, she felt a mixture of joy and grief as she looked around at the wide expanse of hardwood floors flanked by mirrors around the room.

  She tapped her foot on the floor, aching to rise up onto her toes and feel the familiar cracking in her joints as she pushed them past their limits. But she couldn’t. Not yet. The doctor had warned her that going too fast would jeopardize her new career as a dance teacher.

  Never again would she dance professionally. The thought pained her, hence the reason for her grief.

  A career shattering injury to her knee over a year ago had claimed the extra years of performing she’d planned to do. The New York City Ballet had been her ultimate goal, and she’d fallen just short of it.

  For awhile, she’d shunned the idea of teaching kids. It seemed like the worst kind of failure. But then she’d come around to accepting the idea after volunteering for a friend at a dance camp for kids in Brooklyn.

  She started to see dance as a way to help kids and still be able to communicate her art form to others. When she’d learned through a friend that a school was for sale in her price range in Georgia, she’d been intrigued by the idea.

  The place had needed some work. The former owner, a professional dancer herself, had retired and moved to Hawaii, leaving the place empty for three years. Residents wanted a dance school for their kids, so she’d have an immediate income stream, which she desperately needed now. New York City wasn’t a cheap place to live, by any means.

  January Cove still didn’t feel like home, even after living there a few months. She’d made a few new friends, and she loved seeing the ocean every day on her walk to the studio.

  But it wasn’t home yet, which was why she was anxious to get the place opened up for new students soon. The renovation work was done which meant she could open her doors in just a couple of days. Getting back to some kind of routine was something she was looking forward to. She didn’t have a lot else to look forward to right now.

  It was mid-November, and that meant the holiday season was now in full swing. She imagined that she could somehow harness the power of Christmas to get her new studio noticed, although she didn’t know how just yet.

  She’d been in full scale dance productions near famous Broadway venues, yet she felt a little more anxious about this. She didn’t have her old friends to bolster her confidence, and starting over was harder than she’d thought.

  “Everything look okay?” her contractor, Robbie, asked her from behind. The young guy had given her a great deal on refinishing the floors, replacing stained ceiling tiles and updating the plumbing.

  “It looks beautiful,” she said, putting her hands in a prayer position under her chin. “Better than I imagined.”

  “Great,” he said, a broad smile on his face. One of the reasons she’d given him a chance was because he was a young husband and father, just trying to support his new eight-month old baby. Any time she could support a family trying to stay together and succeed, she’d do it. In reality, she was a little jealous to be in her mid-thirties without a family of her own. No husband, no prospects. And no baby cooing and keeping her awake at night.

  Her career had come first at the expense of her personal life for so many years.

  “Let me get your check,” Claire said, realizing Robbie was still standing around waiting to get paid. She walked to a small table that was serving as her stand-in desk and picked up the check. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks so much,” he said, gratefully looking at the check. “Please let me know if I can do anything else for you.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  Robbie turned and left, leaving her alone again in the large room. She smiled as she thought of the little feet that would soon dance on these floors. As pretty as they were right now, she longed to see scratches and imperfections, sure signs that happiness was found here.

  Twinkle Toes Dance Studio was about to become a reality.

  If there was one thing Jake Evers hated, it was being out of control. And lately, there seemed to be very little that was within his control.

  His career was gone.

  In a literal flash, he’d been thrust into the national news, and that was the last place he’d ever wanted to be. They’d called him a hero. He wasn’t a hero. Heroes didn’t let people die.

  He sat at the edge of the dock and stared out into the water. Luckily, his old friend, Clay, was the ferry captain and had given him a ride out to the island. He just needed to get away.

  People meant well. Even his sister and her husband. But they didn’t understand his need to be alone, to try to forget. He could never forget, though. Escaping your own brain just isn’t possible.

  Sometimes, he longed for the day before the fire. Before he’d made decisions he couldn’t take back. Before he’d known what hell on Earth felt like.

  Boston was supposed to be his home. It had been for fifteen years. He’d built his life there. Married and divorced there. Had his daughter, Cassie, there. She was eight now, and the only reason he continued putting one foot in front of the other.

  Now he was back in January Cove, living in his sister’s guest room, wondering what to do next. He could never go back to being a firefighter. The will to do that had been sucked out of him that night months ago. The memories were still so fresh, like nightmares that plagued him all day.

  The therapist said he had PTSD, but he didn’t care. As long as he was able to be a good father, he’d deal with the nightmares. He’d deal with those memories. They served as his punishment, after all.

  He looked out just as a dolphin popped its fin out of the water and then disappeared. He’d grown up here, in this beautiful place, but now it felt so foreign. A lot of new people lived in town, but there were many faces he recognized. Clay, for one. The Parker family. The pharmacist. The bakery owner.

  Yet, he didn’t want to interact. He didn’t have any desire to hang out, drink a beer and talk about life. He wanted to hide, to become a hermit. To never hear the word “hero” again.

  And if it weren’t for Cassie’s sweet face, he’d never show his to the world aga
in.

  Claire flipped the sign to “open” and stepped back a few feet. She wasn’t sure what she expected. A stampede of small children being chased by overly exhausted soccer moms?

  But no one came. Not immediately anyway. She sat at the front desk, her newly manicured fingernails - had to make a good impression - tapping against the wood.

  Then, when she was just about to lock up for lunch, a woman appeared, the sound of the bell dangling from the handle coming as a welcome relief.

  “Hi! Welcome to Twinkle Toes. How can I help you?”

  “I was wondering if you have a public bathroom?” the woman asked, a look of panicked fear on her face.

  Claire wanted to say no, mainly because she really didn’t have a public bathroom. But the lady looked like she was in serious need, so Claire pointed to a door. “Right there.”

  “Thanks,” she said, running like she was being chased by a bear. Claire put her head on the counter.

  “This is a nightmare,” she whispered to herself.

  “Excuse me?”

  Another woman was standing there, unbeknownst to Claire. Stupid malfunctioning bell, she thought, before noticing it on the floor. Apparently she didn’t tie it very tightly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Claire said, painting on her best smile. “How can I help you?”

  “Well, I’m looking to sign my niece up for some lessons. Do you have anything going on?” The woman looked around, obviously noticing the lack of patrons.

  “Today is our opening day,” Claire said, trying not to frown.

  “I’m Susan Daniels,” she said, reaching out to shake Claire’s hand.

  “Nice to meet you. Claire Thomas.”

  “No offense, Claire, but it looks like you need some help getting the word out. I mean, as much as I’d like for my niece to get one on one lessons, I’m thinking you’d rather have more than one student per class?”

  Claire smiled sadly. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a marketer. I was a bit naive thinking I could just put up a sign and wait for students to appear.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. I’m in advertising.”

  “You are? I probably couldn’t afford what you charge,” Claire said with a laugh.

  Susan looked around again. The woman came out of the bathroom, thanked Claire and left. “Look, I want this place to be successful. January Cove is a special place, and I took dance here when I was a kid. I’d love for my niece to get the same experience. And my understanding is you’re a world class dancer yourself?”

  “I was… yes. I had an injury a year or so ago…”

  “I heard. Not much is a secret around here,” she said.

  “I can see that. So what would you recommend?”

  Susan smiled. “Well, first things first. Let’s get my little Cassie signed up.”

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Jake hated therapy. The only reason he’d agreed to do it was because of his daughter. He was all she had after her mother had left them both when she was three. Ran off with the drummer from some third rate band and never came back. Boy, he could really pick ‘em.

  “What did you ask me again?”

  His therapist, Dr. Craig Gardiner, took off his glasses and sighed. “What’s going on with you today?”

  “The same thing that’s going on every day, man. Besides, you’re the brain tamer. Can’t you turn off all these thoughts?”

  “Brain tamer? That’s a new one,” Dr. Gardiner said with a chuckle.

  “Put it on your business cards.” Jake leaned back in the armchair and sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I asked you why you think you continue holding onto the guilt?”

  Jake paused for a few moments. “Because I deserve to feel guilty.”

  “Why?”

  “They died on my watch.”

  “You weren’t the only one there, Jake. Your whole team was there.”

  “I made a promise.”

  “The fire was stronger than you, Jake. Why can’t you accept that saving that little girl’s life was heroic?”

  Jake glared at him, his eyebrows drawn together in anger. “I said not to use that word. That was our deal.”

  “Sorry. But, Jake, I need you to dig deeper. I need to understand why that word bothers you so much.”

  Jake sat up in his chair and leaned forward. “Because I don’t deserve it.”

  “Why do you hold onto the guilt?” Dr. Gardiner repeated.

  Jake leaned in. “Why do you think I hold onto it, doc?” he asked in a loud whisper.

  “It serves a purpose.”

  “And what purpose is that?” he asked, leaning back and crossing his legs.

  “You have to tell me.”

  “You know how much I’m paying an hour? Shouldn’t you be telling me that?”

  “Why are you so closed off right now, Jake?” This guy was frustrating. Jake couldn’t do anything to rile him up, and that was irritating. He was so calm and cool wearing his sweater vest and round glasses.

  “I don’t think this is working,” Jake said, starting to stand up.

  “Okay, we can be done for the day, but only if you answer one question. Honestly.”

  Jake rolled his eyes and sat back down. “Fine, I’ll play along. But only because my kid doesn’t get out of school for another forty minutes, and I really don’t want to sit in the carpool line.”

  Dr. Gardiner smiled. “I want you to really think about this one, Jake. And realize I’m trying to help you here, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want you to really go inside yourself.”

  “Doc, I’m already inside myself.”

  “Jake…”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Jake closed his eyes.

  “Okay. Here’s the question. If you could go back and not make that promise, but it meant that little Emmy would have died with her family, how would you feel?”

  Jake snarled. “That’s a dumb question.”

  “Jake, please. Really think here.”

  “Of course I’d have made the promise in order to save her.”

  “So she was worth it?”

  “Yes. Absolutely.”

  Jake continued to keep his eyes closed. It was helping, but he’d never admit it to the doc.

  “Was saving her a good thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when people do good things, do they deserve praise?”

  “Of course…” he said without thinking. His eyes popped open.

  Dr. Gardiner looked at him carefully. “Then why don’t you deserve praise, Jake?”

  Jake sat silently for a moment. This guy was good. “I don’t know.”

  “Why are you punishing yourself?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you agree you’re punishing yourself?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Jake, come on.”

  He looked at the therapist. “I honestly don’t know why I’m doing this, Doc. I was a proud firefighter, you know? I went to work every day, and I saved lives. Whether it was rescuing a dog from the river or putting out a kitchen fire, I took pride in my job. But that night…”

  “What about that night?”

  “I made that little girl a promise. I told her that I would go back in and save her mommy and daddy. I promised her, man. And I failed.”

  “Jake, the whole house caved in. What you did was a miracle. You got her out, and the whole world applauded. Everyone was focused on you for that moment in time. You were all over the news. How did it feel at the time?”

  “Wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this little girl had lost her whole family, and here were people praising me for saving her. What about them? What about the day, when she’s older, and she looks back and sees what I really did was fail her?”


  “Can I take off my therapist hat for a moment?” Dr. Gardiner asked. Jake nodded. “Man to man, what you did was what any person hopes they can do in a moment of crisis. Save a life. Make a difference. We don’t always get to choose the difference we make. I’m a man of faith, and I believe that her life will serve a greater good. It wasn’t her time. You stepped in and gave her a chance to possibly change the world, in whatever way she chooses. That, my friend, is heroic.”

  Jake looked down, not upset at the word for the first time. It still made him uncomfortable but not quite as angry.

  “When people call you a hero, it isn’t because they think you’re perfect. It’s because they know you stepped up when it mattered most. You risked your life for another human being, Jake. But you’re not invincible.”

  “But I looked into her little eyes, and I said I’d get her parents out. And I couldn’t…” Jake said, starting to break down. He never cried, and he clenched his jaw to keep from crying now.

  “You couldn’t, Jake. But that doesn’t make you any less heroic. Or human.”

  Jake swallowed hard and pulled himself together. “I wish I could forgive myself.”

  “In time, I believe you will. But you have to be open to it.”

  He wondered whether he would ever be able to look back on that night and see the good he did. For now, he’d have to be okay with things how they were. His daughter was depending on him, and there was no way he was letting another little girl down.

  2

  Claire sat at the little table on the pier, waiting for the Harvest Festival to begin. Cars were already lining the roads as festival goers walked along the quaint streets of January Cove.

  This town was growing on her. Since meeting Susan, she’d brainstormed several new ways to get more students. Already, two of her classes were full, including the one Susan’s niece was going to be in.