Page 12 of Mountain Man's Holiday Home
“Why not? I’ve got the time, and you could probably use the extra hands.” He looked between us. “Besides, it would give Lainey and me a chance to figure out what this is.”
“You’d do that?” I asked, hardly daring to believe it. “Stay here longer?”
“I’d do that.” His voice was firm, certain. “If you want me to.”
Luca was looking between us like he was watching a tennis match. “Hold on. You’re talking about staying in Wildwood Valley for over a month. What about your job? Your life?”
“I’m an independent contractor now. Have been for the past year.” Hendrix shrugged. “I can work from anywhere, and honestly, I’ve been looking for a reason to slow down. To stop moving around so much.”
“And you think that reason is my sister?” There was something in Luca’s voice I couldn’t identify.
“I think your sister might be exactly what I’ve been looking for without knowing it.” Hendrix’s eyes never left mine. “If she’ll have me.”
The three of us stood there in the darkness beside the old mill, the weight of the moment settling around us. Luca was studying both of our faces, and I could see him making some kind of calculation.
Finally, he sighed. “You know what? Fine. But if you hurt her, Lowe, I will end you.”
“Fair enough,” Hendrix said, grinning.
“And you,” Luca pointed at me, “are going to help me understand what just happened here. Because a couple of days ago, you two barely knew each other.”
I felt my cheeks heat up again. “Some things don’t take long to figure out.”
“Apparently not.” Luca shook his head, but he was almost smiling now. “Come on, you two. Let’s head back. We’ve got trees to sell, and apparently I have a new employee to train.”
As we walked back to the trucks, Hendrix caught my hand, lacing our fingers together. The gesture was simple, but it sent warmth shooting through me.
“You sure about this?” I asked quietly. “Staying, I mean. It’s a big change.”
He stopped walking and turned to face me, his expression serious. “Lainey, I’ve been running from place to place for years, never finding anything worth staying in one place for. But you…” He squeezed my hand. “You make me want to stop running.”
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, right there in front of the old mill, with my brother pretending not to watch from beside his truck.
When we broke apart, I was breathless and grinning. “Well then, Hendrix Lowe, welcome to Wildwood Valley.”
“Thanks,” he said, his smile soft and genuine. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
As we drove back down the mountain in convoy—Luca leading in his truck, us following—I couldn’t stop smiling. Two weeks had suddenly become the beginning of something much bigger.
And for the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait to see what came next.
EPILOGUE
LAINEY
The smell of pine needles and hot chocolate filled the crisp December air as I surveyed the bustling scene before me. What had started as Luca’s simple Christmas tree lot had grown into something magical—the Wildwood Valley Christmas Festival.
“You did good, Mrs. Lowe,” Hendrix said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and nuzzling my neck.
I leaned back into his warmth, my wedding ring catching the afternoon sunlight. “Wedid good,” I corrected, watching families weave between the rows of Fraser firs and the colorful booths that now lined the outer edges of the lot.
The crafts fair had been a new event when I met Lainey—just a dozen or so artisans selling handmade ornaments and holiday treats alongside the trees. Now it featured twenty-five vendors, from whimsical ceramic Christmas villages to customizable children’s picture books.
“Gunnar’s here,” Hendrix said, pointing toward the hot chocolate booth, where his friend was chatting with the vendor. “Said he’d help with the tree loading if we needed it.”
I smiled. Having Gunnar as our next-door neighbor had been one of the unexpected joys of building our life in Wildwood Valley. When Hendrix and I decided to stay permanently, Gunnar had recommended we build on the empty lot next to his. We’d done just that, and as a result, we had a two-story log cabin that was straight out of my dreams.
It wasn’t just a house, though. It was home. Every evening echoed with Rowan’s piano practice drifting from the living room, Cameron’s endless questions about everything under the sun, and Oliver’s squealing laughter as he raced toy trucks across the floor.
