Christmas in the Valley: A Jinx Hamilton / Shevington Novella

by Juliette Harper

  From the stairs, Dad said, “Stan! Is that you? Do you still fly fish? I’ve got some questions about . . . ”

  The rest of the morning dissolved into happy chaos. Greer and Lucas arrived shortly after Stan and Aunt Fiona. When I took Lucas’ coat to hang it on the rack, he said in a low voice, “Hi, there.”

  “Hi yourself,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Following me into a side room, Lucas said, “Are we doing the ‘second thoughts’ talk already, ‘cause I’m still on ‘man, can that woman kiss!”

  “Stop,” I laughed, punching him on the arm and trying to give him a quick peck that turned into a lingering kiss in spite of my best intentions.

  When we broke apart, I said, “Behave.”

  “Now what fun is that?” he asked teasingly.

  “I’m serious,” I said. “Chase saw us on the wall last night. He and Festus will be here any minute. I would really appreciate it if you would make an effort not to needle him today.”

  Lucas seemed poised to make a flippant remark, but then he thought better of it. “Not a problem,” he said. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “Really?” I asked incredulously.

  “Really,” he said. “I won’t start anything, and I won’t take any bait McGregor tosses out. Scout’s honor.”

  Even though I doubted Lucas Grayson had ever been a Boy Scout, I can tell you he kept his word that day, a fact that sent him soaring several notches higher in my estimation.

  When Chase and Festus did arrive, my ex appeared to be on his best behavior as well. He greeted everyone warmly, told me I looked nice, and immediately launched into a conversation with Barnaby on the merits of a particular chess defense.

  Festus limped toward the coffee pot, groaning about his hangover, only to stop in his tracks when Duke trotted up and dropped a chew bone at his feet.

  “What in the name of Bastet’s whiskers is that?” Festus demanded.

  “I believe,” Beau said, “that Duke is attempting to give you a present.”

  “Does Dead Dog Walking know I’m a cat?” Festus growled.

  In response, Duke wagged his tail happily and proceeded to lick the yellow tomcat full across the face — twice.

  “Sweet Mother of God!” Festus roared. “Has that thing had its shots? Somebody get me some fur sanitizer. And keep that piece of walking road kill away from me!”

  Puzzled by Festus’ reaction, Duke looked up at Beau and whined uncertainly.

  “Now, now, boy,” the Colonel said, “Mr. McGregor tends to overreact.”

  “Overreact?” Festus said. “That mutt gives me ectoplasmic Ebola, and you say I’m overreacting? I ought to . . .”

  Chase wisely dragged his father into another room just at the same moment Rube, a raccoon operative working with both the DGI and the International Registry for Shapeshifters, waddled through the front door.

  “Who coughed a hairball in his nipnog?” Rube asked before spotting me and crying, “Doll! Stunning as always! Merry, merry and all that good stuff!”

  “Thanks, Rube,” I said, “do you think you could go help Chase with Festus? Duke licked his fur and . . .”

  “Enough said, Sister,” Rube assured me, heading after Chase. “Cats are like total germaphobes. Can’t take the sewer work like us coons. Always stopping to lick off every little spot.”

  When everyone was fed to Innis’ satisfaction and Festus finished his sixth grooming session (which included washing his mouth out with Scotch), we exchanged gifts in the parlor. Oblivious to the crisis he’d caused, Duke plunged happily in and out of the piles of cast-off wrapping paper while Festus glared daggers in his direction.

  Beau’s gift to me brought tears to my eyes.

  “But it was your wife’s,” I said, running my fingers over the cameo, “you should have it as a keepsake.”

  “All the keepsakes I need of Almira lie tucked in my heart,” Beau said. “Where you reside as well, dear Jinx.”

  Hugging him hard, I said, “Thank you, Beau. I will treasure this always.”

  “Okay you two, enough with the Hallmark moment,” Tori said. “Beau, open my gift to you.”

  “With pleasure,” Beau said, pulling the ribbon off the long package and removing the lid. Inside the box, the Colonel’s cavalry saber lay nestled in tissue paper.

  Beau ran trembling fingers down the worn, scarred scabbard before looking up at Tori. “How?” he asked sounding stunned.

  “Okay,” I said, “what did I miss here?”

  “He sold his sword to get Christmas cash,” Tori explained. “I bought it back. You’re doing great with computers, Beau, but you never clear your browser history. A colonel in the Army of Northern Virginia can’t be without his sword.”

  Beau’s war has long since ended in death and defeat, but in his heart, he remains a dutiful soldier. “Thank you, Miss Tori,” he said. “Thank you for reuniting me with an old comrade.”

  I wasn’t the only Hamilton woman in the room fighting back tears at that moment, but Mom was about to lose it for different reasons.

  Connor sat on the couch between our parents. He’d just given Dad an exquisite hand-tooled wallet, and Mom was holding a framed sketch of the two of us done from a picture Tori had taken.

  “You drew this?” Mom asked, looking at Connor with brimming eyes.

  Connor nodded shyly. “I knew you didn’t have any pictures of Jinx and me and I thought you might like this more than a photograph.”

  “I love it,” Mom said, choking on the words. “I love it so, so much.”

  When she dissolved in tears, Connor looked helplessly at our father. “She’s happy, right?” he asked.

  “She is,” Dad laughed. “Women are a mystery, son. We’ll talk.”

  Amity Prescott was the last guest to arrive, letting herself in just before we all sat down to dinner. To my surprise, she was carrying Dílestos, a walking stick made from a branch of the Mother Oak topped with a chunk of raw quartz, which she thrust into my hand.

  “Forget something?” she asked me briskly.

  “Uh, not really,” I admitted, feeling the sentience of the staff stir under my grasp.

  “Are you simple minded?” she asked, glaring at me.

  Okay, Ghost of Christmas Grumpiness much?

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  As if she were walking a slow pupil through a ridiculously easy lesson, Amity said, “When Chesterfield kidnapped your brother, what was the ransom?”

  “A living branch of the Mother Tree,” I said.

  “And what is Dílestos?”

  Oh, crud. The staff is a living branch of the Mother Tree.

  “I honestly didn’t put that together, Amity,” I said.

  “Nor did anyone else, apparently,” she huffed. “Someone must be with Dílestos at all times. Don’t leave her alone again.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Amity said. “Tell her.”

  Since I couldn't think of anything else to say, I went with, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, are we just going to stand here?” Amity said. “People are waiting on us, Jinx.”

  With that, she turned on her heel, leaving me standing in the foyer holding the oaken staff. “Sorry, Dílestos,” I said.

  I swear to you I heard the words “forget about it” float through my brain followed by, “later let us speak with my mother.”

  One way or another, every blessed person and thing around me seemed determined I was going to talk to the Mother Tree before the holiday was over — which only made me resist the idea all the more.

  9

  Innis outdid herself with Christmas dinner. By the time dessert circulated, I honestly couldn’t move. As soon as we migrated to the parlor, Festus curled up on the hearth and fell into a snoring food coma. Connor invited Tori to tour the stables, and to my shock, I realized my bestie was flirting with my brother.

  Mom and Dad went for a walk around the square. Gemma and Moira t
alked alchemy, Beau and Barnaby began a game of chess, and the intrepid skiers headed for the backyard again. Aunt Fiona and Amity were catching up on the news from Briar Hollow while Stan, Rube, Greer, and Lucas played gin.

  That left Chase and me awkwardly unoccupied. “Would you like to take a walk, Jinx?” he asked.

  From the way Lucas tilted his head, I knew he’d heard the question as well, but thankfully he kept his eyes on his cards. Chase and I were going to have to have this talk sooner or later, and I really did want to get out and stretch my legs.

  “Sure,” I said, “let me get my coat and ask Barnaby to keep an eye on Dílestos.”

  We avoided the square, opting instead to round the corner and head toward the fairy guard barracks. Neither of us spoke. Chase ducked into Madam Kaveh’s and emerged with two mugs of coffee.

  “Does she ever close?” I asked, accepting the drink.

  “Never,” Chase said. “According to Madam, without a ready supply of coffee, civilization would cease to function.”

  I felt some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. “On that point,” I said. “We agree completely.”

  We continued down the hill toward the drill field talking about inconsequential things until we reached the viewing stand. “Shall we sit awhile?” Chase asked.

  He brushed the snow off one of the benches and held out his hand to help me up. We settled in beside one another and sat quietly drinking our coffee. I knew what was coming, but he was going to start it, not me.

  “I have a gift for you,” he said finally.

  “Chase, that’s really not necessary.”

  “Please let me. It’s something I was planning on giving you before we broke up and I’d still like for you to have it.” He held out a small box wrapped in red paper.

  Not knowing what else to do, I took it, releasing the bow and slipping the wrapping away. The locket was obviously an antique, engraved with the initials JLM. I didn’t have to ask. I knew the letters stood for Jenny Lynn McGregor, his mother.

  “Chase,” I said, “I can’t accept this.”

  “Look inside,” he prodded.

  Working the delicate clasp, I found a photo of me and Chase taken earlier in the summer. We’d been on a bike ride to the waterfall where I speak with Knasgowa’s spirit.

  ‘That was a good day, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  I swallowed against the lump that rose in my throat. “It was.”

  “I wasn’t spying on you last night.”

  “Weren’t you?” I asked looking out over the snowy field.

  “You were kissing him in plain sight. I just looked up.”

  “We’re not a thing any more, Chase. I can kiss whoever I like.”

  “Are we so easy to forget, Jinx?” he asked, his voice a wounded whisper.

  “Easy?” I said softly. “I cried myself to sleep every night for a month after you broke up with me. None of this was my idea, Chase. Maybe that’s easy for you to forget.”

  He put down his cup and caught hold of my hands. I started to pull away, but something in his eyes stopped me. “I deserve that,” he said. “I was a coward. I made a terrible mistake. Please forgive me, Jinx. Please let’s try again.”

  I was ready for pretty much anything but that.

  “You cannot be serious.”

  “I’m very serious,” he said leaning toward me. “I’m serious with every fiber of my being.”

  Trust me. I know I should have stopped him. The last thing I needed to be do was kiss Chase McGregor when the night before another man had whispered against my lips, “You taste like chocolate.”

  What can I say? He was so achingly familiar. We had been through so much together. He’d just given me his dead mother’s locket. The whole thing transcended “complicated.”

  When I came to my senses and did push him away, Chase pleaded with me. “Don’t.”

  This time, I wouldn’t budge. “We cannot do this,” I said. “We are not going to do this.”

  “Because of Lucas Grayson?” he asked, an edge coming into his voice.

  “That,” I said, “will get you absolutely nowhere, Chase. We aren’t going to do this because none of the things that made our relationship hard have changed in the slightest. Now I’m going back to Granddad’s. You can walk with me or not, it’s up to you, but I’m done with drama for the day.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “But I’m not giving up on us, Jinx.”

  I chose to let that go. There was nothing I could say that wouldn’t instantly get us in more trouble and I honestly did not want to fight with him.

  When we came back in the house, Tori took one look at my face and knew something was up even though I instantly put on a big smile. It took her better than an hour of maneuvering, but she finally got me by myself in one of the side rooms off the hall.

  “What happened?” she said. “And don’t lie to me.”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” I said. “I don’t lie to you. Close the door.”

  When I was sure we wouldn’t be overheard, I confessed. “I kissed Lucas last night.”

  “And?” she said, her face lighting up. “Tell me!”

  Grinning in spite of myself, I said, “He’s a really, really good kisser.”

  Pumping the air with her fist, she said, “I knew it! Jinksy, that’s fantastic!”

  I hated to burst her bubble, but it was time for “the rest of the story.”

  “And this afternoon I kissed Chase,” I said.

  Tori’s face fell. “Uh oh,” she said.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “big time ‘uh oh.’”

  “Any chance kiss number two was a flop?” she asked hopefully.

  “None.”

  “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

  Drawing myself up, I said with absolute conviction, “Forget kiss number two and get to know Lucas better.”

  “Uh, and what does Chase have to say about that?” she asked.

  They say the first step is admitting you have a problem, and brother, did I have a big one.

  “He says he’s not giving up on us.”

  Tori groaned. “So not good,” she said. “Those guys can barely get along on a good day. What are they going to do in full out competition mode?”

  Annoyed I said, “They’re going to get over it. I’m the one making the choices here.”

  “No argument on that one,” Tori said, “but you have to admit, this could get sticky.”

  I didn’t have to admit any such of a thing. I had every intention of sailing right along on the River Denial as long as I could keep the ship afloat.

  Which lasted until about 11 o’clock that night when everyone had either gone to bed or was conked out in a chair. All the guests had departed for the evening, and I was left staring out the front window at the Mother Tree holding Dílestos in my hands.

  “My Mother has need of your presence, Jinx Hamilton,” the staff’s voice said in my mind. “Go to her.”

  “No offense, Dílestos, but I really don’t want to play word games with the Great Oak right now,” I answered silently.

  “She senses that you are troubled,” the staff said. “My Mother is your friend. Seek her counsel. She means you no harm.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, a little petulantly, “but I can promise you she won’t tell me anything I want to hear.”

  “Is that not the job of a mother?” Dílestos asked. “To say that which is hard? To take the action no other will take?”

  Having a conversation with the Mother Tree seemed as inevitable as facing Chase. It was probably a good idea to just get it over with.

  “Okay,” I said, carrying Dílestos out into the foyer and shrugging into my coat, “but unless she has a big, shiny Christmas present for me, I know exactly how this is going to go.”

  Brother, when I’m wrong, am I ever wrong.

  10

  Everyone else in Shevington must have been exhausted, too. The square was completely desert
ed. I started to tell Dílestos that the weather was too cold for late night conversations with oaks, but the instant I stepped beneath the Mother Tree’s branches, the air around me warmed.

  “Okay,” I said, “you finally did it. You got enough people to bug me about talking to you, so here I am. Merry Christmas.”

  The Great Tree’s laughter floated through my mind. “Are you so very out of patience with me?” she asked. “You are reunited with your brother. Was that not the last thing you asked?”

  Sitting down on one of the stone benches that ring the massive trunk, I said, “Yes, it was, but admit it, that didn’t happen the way you intended.”

  “What do you know of my intentions?” the Tree countered.

  She had me there. On my best day, I didn’t have a clue what the Mother Tree wanted from us, but I did remember our last conversation. “You asked me to find out why Chesterfield started all of this 30 years ago and I still don’t know that.”

  “That is true,” the Oak agreed, “but the course of your investigations was derailed by the wizard himself. I would not have expected you to do less than save your brother’s life.”

  Well, at least that was something.

  “Are you ready to abandon this petulance and talk to me?” the Oak asked.

  That’s the annoying thing about having a conversation with the Mother Tree. She knows what you’re thinking before you say a word. She wanted me to talk, so I talked.

  I spoke about all the things in my life that have fallen into place since the day I inherited Aunt Fiona’s store — and there were plenty of them. I’d gone from being a minimum wage waitress to running a business with my best friend.

  But I also talked about my anger at Scrap Andrews for breaking Tori’s heart. The store and the world of magic represented a fresh start for her too. It made me furious that her own father would do anything to cast a shadow over that.

  I talked about Irenaeus Chesterfield and how much I wanted to stop him.

  I talked about Chase and the witch/werecat taboo. I mean seriously, where is the fairness in that situation? Clan McGregor is sworn to protect the Daughters of Knasgowa. I can’t get away from Chase, and I can’t be with him.