A Holiday to Remember by Lynnette Kent

Jayne’s grandmother had called hers a J, for their shared name. Or a fishing hook. The resemblance to Italy had never crossed Jayne’s mind. But then, she’d never had a lover who kissed it, either.
    She fell asleep trying to determine how she would behave with Chris Hammond in the morning, and how soon she could send him back to town. The school owned several vehicles with four-wheel drive, so if the snow wasn’t too deep she would just lend him an SUV and ask him to leave it at the police station.
    But when the first ray of sunlight wedged her lids apart, she doubted she’d be sending anyone anywhere for quite some time. Snow lay three feet deep, perhaps more, against the panes of the floor-to-ceiling French doors leading into the private garden. Beyond the surrounding stone wall lay a pure white carpet with no hint of shrubs, steps, driveway or landscape. At the edge of the surrounding forest, the branches of pine and cedar trees sagged under thick dollops of white frosting, and even the skeletons of the oaks and maples and beeches glistened with snow.
    This morning, the phone did not work. They were completely snowed in until the weather warmed up or someone with a plow or a snowmobile came to get them. Jayne wasn’t sure which would happen first.
    As more sparkling sunlight entered the room, the girls on the floor began to stir. Rubbing her eyes, Taryn stumbled to the nearest window and glanced out at the scenery.
    “Awesome,” she cried. “Hey, guys, come look!”
    In the next moment, they were all exclaiming over the snow.
    “Cool!”
    “I’ve never seen so much snow.”
    “Let’s go outside!”
    In unison they turned toward the door, but Jayne stood in their way. When she held up a hand, silence fell.
    “Breakfast first,” she told them. “Before breakfast, you need to fold your bedding neatly and put it with your pillows across the hall in the conference room so we don’t have to step over them all day. Then you can go to your rooms to dress and bring back the jackets, hats, gloves and boots you’ll need to go outside. Understood?”
    The seven girls nodded solemnly. But as soon as they left the conference room, they reverted to extreme excitement, dancing along the hallway toward the stairs, talking loudly and making wild plans for all the fun to be had in the snow.
    After putting a pot of water for instant oatmeal over some of the coals in the fireplace, Jayne went to her office to change. A long and exhausting day awaited her, without a doubt. After the novelty wore off, some girls would want to be inside, some out. Without music, television and movies, the girls would be looking to her for entertainment. The puzzles and games she’d bought wouldn’t be nearly enough. She had not, Jayne was dismayed to admit, planned for this many girls. She hadn’t planned for a blizzard.
    And she certainly hadn’t planned on Chris Hammond, who was stuck here just as surely as the rest of them for the foreseeable future.
    “Good morning.” He was leaning on the second-story rail as she entered the entry hall from the office wing. “Looks like we’re snowed in.”
    “Good morning. Yes, I don’t think there’s much chance of driving out of here until the snow melts.” The memory of lastnight’s kiss flooded her mind, urging her to cut the conversation short.
    Instead, though, she heard herself ask, “Did you sleep well?”
    He started down the stairs. “Until a gaggle of girls stampeded past the infirmary a few minutes ago, screaming at the tops of their lungs.”
    Jayne couldn’t make herself move until he reached the bottom step and joined her. “I’m insisting on breakfast first, so I’d better start cooking.”
    “Does that mean there’s a chance of coffee?” Chris fell in step beside her.
    “I’ll see what I can do.” She pushed open the door into the library wing and held it for him to come though after her. “You’re pretty stiff this morning.” Though why she should comment,