Page 46 of Christmas at the Ranch
“That’s it?” I ask him. “Only four restaurants?”
“Well, it’s not a very big town,” he says with a smile. “We’ll just have to use lots of pictures to fill it out.”
But I have an idea. “What about the Evergreen Inn? It’s not a restaurant, exactly, but they do serve food to their guests. I stayed there on the first night I was here. Reesa’s Saturday Soup was amazing.”
“What a wonderful idea!” Bruce exclaims. “I need to finish my weekly column or I’d join you. Why don’t you borrow my car and head out there? You can drop me at home and pick me up again tomorrow morning.”
After I drop off Bruce, as I drive to Reesa’s, I think about some of the ideas I’d like to suggest to Bruce, to make theEnquirercontent more accessible to tourists when they’re in Evergreen in the high season. A website would be easy enough to help him set up—though I do worry about him maintaining it. Same goes for an Instagram account. But, I decide as I turn onto the road that leads to the inn, these are all things for us to discuss tomorrow. First, I have work to do. And hopefully, a fence to mend.
I pull up to the inn, which is as lovely as I remember it, like it’s been conjured straight out of a Trisha Romance painting. The eaves drip with glittering icicles, more cedar garlands have been added to the front banister, the berries on the front door wreath seem to shine as bright as Christmas lights. I park Bruce’s car. When I get out, I see movement at the front window of the inn. Then Sam comes running down the stairs, excited to potentially meet a new guest—but her smile fades when she sees me. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Hi, Sam,” I say. “Is your mom around?”
But Reesa is already standing on the top step. “Hello,” she says hesitantly. “Did you forget something?”
I explain about my new job at the newspaper and tell her about the special restaurant section. Her expression stays guarded, and I wonder what I’m going to have to do to win her over. Until she comes downthe steps, stands before me, and says, “I owe you an apology. I was not fair to you. Sam needs to hear this, too. I don’t know anything about you personally, except that you were kind to my daughter. It isn’t fair to judge people on their families. I think I was just shocked. Gill is such a great guy…”
“I know,” I say. “It’s okay, really. I understand it must have been a shock—and what happened with Gill is horrible. I wish I could fix it myself.”
“Well, you’re trying,” Reesa says. “I’ve already heard about the holiday section, and who knows, maybe someone who doesn’t already live in this town will pick it up. So, you’re staying in town for a while?”
“Just a few more days,” I say. “Until my car is fixed.”
Sam steps in between us, her expression skeptical. “And you have a job? That doesn’t sound like someone staying just a few days.”
Reesa laughs and tells Sam to mind her own business. “Don’t pry, sweetie,” she murmurs. “Now, come on in. I just finished a pot of soup for lunch and baked a batch of those scones you never got to try.”
Reesa makes tea, and we chat as she sets the table. She tells me all about how the inn fell into disrepair for years after my family rented it.
“There isn’t really a market for luxury rentals out here,” Reesa says. “The investors who owned it defaulted on their mortgage, the bank foreclosed, and itsat abandoned for two years. When my nan died, she left me a bit of money.”
I write it all down, sure this is going to make a good article. “So, for better or for worse, I sank it all into this place,” Reesa continues. “We’ve managed to stay afloat, but it hasn’t always been easy. Summer is better, of course. But I just think it’s so beautiful here in the winter. I wish we could get more tourists to see that.”
While the soup warms through, and Sam busily stirs it, Reesa and I sit at the harvest table by the kitchen window. It looks out over the frozen lake, which is dotted with fishing huts. I take notes about how Reesa has single-handedly turned the place into something very different than the vast, impersonal mansion I stayed in with my family years ago. But it’s so quiet, and obvious that they need more business. I hope my little article will help, and also feel more determined than ever to get Bruce and theEnquireronline so these establishments will all be searchable on the internet for potential visitors to Evergreen.
The soup is ready, and we’re about to sit down to lunch when there’s a knock at the door. Sam pops out of her chair. “It might be a guest!” she exclaims.
But when she returns, she doesn’t have a guest in tow. She’s leading Tate into the kitchen and looking up at him like he hung the moon. “Mama, look who’s here!”
She looks thrilled, but Reesa seems guarded. “I told you we’d have to revisit lessons in the new year, Tate.”
“That’s not exactly why I’m here. Is it, kiddo?” Tatesmiles down at Sam, ruffles her hair, then turns his smile on me. I smile back, hoping my sudden longing for him, a feeling that’s almost like a reflex, isn’t written all over my face.
“I have news,” he says. “A new riding instructor just accepted a job over at Wilder’s. It was hard for me to find someone, but it’s official now.” He looks over at me and winks, and I remember our conversation out on the trail. How much he needed and wanted this.
“Wow, congratulations, Tate!”
“That’s great news for you,” Reesa says. “So, you’ll be focusing more on horse training, you and Charlie? The way you’ve been talking about?”
Tate glances at me again, and I can see pride in his eyes. One of his dreams coming true. I beam back at him.
“That’s correct,” he says to Reesa.
And,” he continues, “the new instructor needs to learn the ropes. I’m wondering if you might send Sam over as much as possible for the rest of the school holidays to do lessons with her.”
As Reesa starts to protest, he says, “I won’t accept payment, it’s for the new instructor’s training. And we can definitely talk about moving forward with lessons in the new year, okay? But you should know I’m working on a plan to have some of the students help exercise the horses in exchange for lessons.”
“You can’t afford to be giving free lessons,” Reesa says, still uncertain. I see that Sam is gazing nervously at her mother. I remember her saying something the first day I came to stay, about them maybe finallybeing able to afford riding lessons again if they got some more business at the inn.
