Page 13 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
The joke broke his poker face, and he returned her smile. “Well, thank goodness we don’t have a pool.”
“Although I did notice that the hot tub ...” Lila let her voice trail off. She was only joking. She didn’t actually have any suggestions for the hot tub she’d seen out the back windows.
Brady shook his head as he laughed. “Yeah, pretty sure even you can’t rearrange the hot tub.”
“But wecouldrearrange the lobby,” she teased, motioning around.
He glanced around as if considering her suggestion. “The furniture has been arranged like this for as long as I can remember.”
“I’m sure it has,” Lila said, trying not to sound too snarky. It was the first thing people always said when she suggested changes. All joking aside, he’d been pretty prickly about her earlier suggestions, so she tried to tread carefully. After all, no one had hired her to improve this inn. “I didn’t mean there was anything wrong with it. It’s just that in my work, I notice things like traffic flow, sight lines, and how spaces make people feel.”
Brady sat on the hearth, his green eyes studying her face. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded, bracing herself for another polite but firm dismissal of her suggestions.
“Why do you feel like you need to constantly fix everything?”
The question caught her off guard. It wasn’t asked with irritation or judgment, but with genuine curiosity. “I don’t need to constantly fix everything,” she said defensively.
“Since you’ve been here, you’ve suggested improvements to our buffet setup, our coffee machine, and now our furniture arrangement.” Brady’s tone was direct but had a hint of amusement. “I’m genuinely curious. What drives that?”
Lila felt heat creep up her neck. When he laid it out like that, it did sound excessive. “It’s what I’m good at. I see inefficiencies, and I want to help.”
“But is it really about helping, or is it about something else?”
She stared at him, taken aback by the perceptiveness of the question. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes people try to fix everything around them when they can’t fix what’s bothering them on the inside.”
The words hit closer to home than Lila cared to admit. She looked away from his steady gaze, focusing instead on a painting that hung on the wall behind him. It was a watercolor of the inn in summer, surrounded by wildflowers and green mountains under a brilliant blue sky. The brushwork was delicate and expressive, capturing not just the visual details but somehow the feeling of the place.
“That’s beautiful,” she said pointing at the painting to force a change of subject. “I bet this place is beautiful in the summer.”
Brady turned to follow her gaze, and his expression softened. “My mother painted that.”
She remembered what Sarah had said about his parents but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable that they’d been talking about something so personal. “Clearly a talented lady,” Lila said, studying the delicate brushwork more closely.
“She was.” He said it matter-of-factly. “She’s been gone for a long time now though.” He didn’t meet her eyes or elaborate.
Lila didn’t want to pry, but at least they finally had something they could connect over. “I’m sorry. I lost my mother recently too. It changes everything, doesn’t it?”
Brady looked at her for a moment as if sizing up whether he could trust her with his answer. “Yeah, it does.” For a moment, he looked like he might say more, but then he stood. “I should let you get back to your book. I need to get some sleep. Early morning tomorrow with the tree hunt.”
“Of course,” Lila said. “Thanks for letting me sit with you.”
He nodded, then gathered his tools and headed toward the back door. She watched the flames dancing in front of her, mesmerized by their movement. For a brief moment, she’d been comforted by the idea that someone else understood what it was like to lose your mother. None of her close friends had been through it. So, she often felt like she had no one to talk to about the times she picked up the phone to call her mother before realizing she wouldn’t answer.
The lobby felt especially quiet now that Brady was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the crackling fire. Finding her birth mother wasn’t going to fill the hole in her heart. Her mother couldn’t be replaced. But she couldn’t help hoping that finding her birth mother would heal another wound she’d had—and ignored—for far longer.
Six
For someone who’d wanted nothing more than to spend the holiday season alone just a few days ago, even Lila was surprised by how comforted she was to find Sarah in the upstairs sitting room drinking her coffee the next morning.
“Good morning,” Sarah said.
“Morning,” Lila said, making her way to the coffee maker. “Have our deer friends arrived yet this morning?”
Sarah shook her head. “Not yet, but I’m hoping to see them again too.”
