Page 12 of What We Keep
“Let me show you around,” I finally offered, having no clue how long I stood there staring at her.
She nodded, and I contemplated where to take her. I’d offered her a room to stay, and we had plenty to choose from, but it needed to be a practical choice because we would open soon.
“It looks amazing,” Elsa commented, her voice soft.
I glanced down, momentarily drawn into the depths of her gaze. Her eyes were mostly green with shimmering flecks of brown and gold.
“We’ll start in the kitchen,” I said, leading her forward. “My mom is ecstatic about being able to cook for guests here.”
A small smile pulled at her lips. “I bet she is.” Elsa spun around. “I don’t remember much of how it was before, but this is really nice.” She paused, her gaze sobering. “I’m sorry about the fire.”
My jaw tightened slightly. “Wildfires happen all the time. You all lost your house too.”
“I know, but we weren’t here,” she said softly.
I couldn’t dwell on this because that meant pondering losing Bree. “I’m grateful we can rebuild. The old one was…” I hesitated, choosing my words. “Well, old. My great-grandparents originally built it, and then each generation kept adding on. Up through my mom and dad.” I shrugged. “And here we are now.”
Another silence stretched between us. All of this brought to mind how her dad passed, and I wasn’t sure what to think or say or if I should acknowledge it at all.
She looked up at me. I imagined that event had been a dividing line in her life—just as the fire had been a dividing line in ours. There was the before and the after.
I tipped my head to the side. “How are you?”
It might be an out-of-place question at the moment, but somehow, it made sense. An unexpected feeling of kinship flourished between us.
When something or someone truly significant was lost in your life, it was easy to feel alone. As if no one else could grasp how big it felt in your small world. Though my details were wildly different from Elsa's, I felt like she understood. Maybe she understood beyond the surface how disruptive the fire had been for my family. Just as I could perhaps understand pieces of what she had gone through.
She was quiet, her gaze softening. “Just like you can’t change the fire,” she said, “I can’t change my father passing away. I’ve learned to live with it. I came home.” Her shoulders rose as she took a slow, deep breath. “Thanks for asking.”
I wanted to hold her close. Although it felt okay to acknowledge the ghosts of loss dancing in our lives, I wasn’t sure hugging her just now would make sense to her. Even though I deeply wanted to.
“Let me show you around,” I repeated, forcing my focus away from Elsa.
I took her through the kitchen first, then back through the open space we had walked through to get here and gestured to the two hallways stretched off the sides.
“We have enough rooms for twenty guests at the moment,” I explained. “Jude and Cole have backup plans for up to forty.”
“Forty?” Elsa’s eyes widened as she stared up at me.
I chuckled. “That’s what I said.” I shrugged. “Since we got to redo this place from the ground up, if we can expand, and if we have enough guests and interest, we figure, why not?”
Elsa’s lips curved into a small smile. “Aim high,” she said lightly.
“Let me show you the staff rooms,” I continued. “We don’t have any staff yet. Unless you count Cole, Jude, Grady, my mom, and me.”
“What about Tommy?” she asked.
I grinned as we walked. “And Tommy. He helps out with the rescue animals, and he loves it. And they do pay him. Rest assured on that.”
When she smiled again, my pulse kicked up. The need that had been simmering in the back of my mind since I first laid eyes on her the other day sharpened its claws. Once we reached the main entry, I led her upstairs.
“For now, we have this upper floor above the kitchen and the common area. If we get busy enough, we’ll add a second story above the guest rooms.”
“Oh, wow.” Elsa spun in a little circle, taking it in.
“There’s also a finished space on the upper floor of the barn,” I added. “I’ll take you out there. That’s where I stay.”
“Tommy seems like he’s doing great,” Elsa commented as we walked outside.
