Page 11 of Holly and Ivar
Holly parked her car, grabbed her purse, and headed up the steps.The door opened easily, and the scent of pine and wood polish greeted her while the wide-plank floorboards creaked underfoot.
At the reception desk, a blond woman stepped out from the adjoining office, a clipboard in hand.Her smile was as warm as the candle-style sconces glowing along the walls.
“You must be Holly Kringle,” she said.“Welcome to the Winterwood Inn.I’m Liv Nilsen.I hope the drive treated you kindly.”
“It did, thank you.”Holly managed a small smile, though fatigue was catching up with her.A bed, or perhaps a bath in a soaker tub, sounded perfect.
“Well, we’ve got you in Room Four, the Juniper Room.”Liv slid a brass key across the counter.“Up the stairs, first door on your left.Breakfast starts at six, but if you’re an early riser, we always have coffee and pastries out here in the lobby.There’s also the Maple Mug Coffee House down the street.Opens at seven.”
“Perfect,” Holly said, taking the key.
“The dining room’s still open for another fifteen minutes if you’d like a proper meal,” Liv added.“Or the Sugarhouse Brewery is right across the street.They serve good food and great beer.”
Holly opened her mouth to decline just as the dining-room doors swung open, releasing the mouth-watering aroma of something rich and savory.Her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.
Liv grinned.“That settles it.Come have a quick dinner with me on the house.Consider it a welcome to Winterwood.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“You absolutely could,” Liv said cheerfully, already leading the way.“It’s Christmas, after all.Let me play hostess properly.”
Holly hesitated, then sighed.“All right.Thank you.”
“This should get me onto Santa’s nice list,” Liv teased as they stepped into the dining room.
Holly’s mouth dropped open.Surely the woman was joking.
Liv’s expression softened.“Sorry.I imagine you hear that sort of thing all the time.”
“It’s fine,” Holly said quickly, following her to a corner table near the fire.
The room was a study in warmth: honey-colored wainscoting, a stone fireplace flickering in the corner, stockings hung neatly along the mantel.The wallpaper above the paneling was patterned with faint gold pine boughs, catching the firelight just enough to shimmer.Garland twined along the ceiling beams, and each table held a candle ringed with small poinsettias.The chair creaked companionably as she sat.
“I’ll tell the kitchen we’re here,” Liv said, disappearing through a swinging door.She returned a moment later with menus.“I already know what I’m having—the maple-braised beef stew.It’s been simmering since breakfast.”
“So that’s what smells so good,” Holly said, letting out a long breath as her shoulders eased.The place was so cozy, even she couldn't help but relax.
“Yup.Tempted me all day.The Vermont cheddar mac and cheese is also excellent.If you’re vegan, there’s a roasted squash risotto.”
“You had me at stew,” Holly said.
Liv laughed, a bright sound that filled the space.
When the waitress left with their orders, Liv chatted easily, asking about the trip, where Holly was from, if she needed anything for her stay.Holly kept her answers brief, polite, and vague.The fewer details, the better.
“So,” Liv said, “you’re here to look at the Hale land, right?”
Holly nodded.“Yes.”
“Do you have plans for the land?”
We want to build a secret Santa village fueled by a magical power vein beneath the forest.
“Nothing concrete,” she said.“We see it as an investment.”
Liv nodded, apparently satisfied.“That land’s beautiful.A lot of us grew up hiking there.Miss Hale never minded.Feels strange, thinking of it changing hands.”
Before Holly could respond, the waitress returned, setting steaming bowls of stew in front of them, along with a plate of warm, crusty bread.
