Page 71 of Please Send Snow
But he just knelt on the sofa, resting his chin on the back of it to stare out the window.
He didn’t say it, but I knew exactly why he was sad. It’s the same reason I’m sad.
I tried to distract him by helping him with another letter to Santa, since those always seem to brighten his spirits, but the only thing he wanted to ask for was for Maddie to come back, so it wasn’t such a great idea after all. We were both getting tired of doing nothing, so whenthe power went out, it was the perfect excuse to head down the mountain and have some dinner at the lodge.
And to find Maddie and beg her to forgive me.
After having a little time to cool off, I’ve decided that I don’t care that she wants my money. I care about her, and Dylan does too.
Maybe her scheme started off as a ploy to trick me into a proposal. But I can’t erase the image of her from my mind the last time I saw her. The pain in her eyes was real, too real. She looked like she was being crushed alive.
So either I’ve fallen in love with a woman who could win an Oscar, or I’ve shattered the heart of the kindest woman in the world, and broken my own heart and Dylan’s too while I was at it.
And with my track record at romance, I’m pretty sure it’s the second.
Will she ever give me another chance?
The sad thing is that I neverreallybelieved I had her heart until after I had broken it. And now I’m hoping for something more simple than forgiveness.
Please,I pray.Just let her be safe.
Because of all the people filling this lobby—staff, guests, neighbors from other chalets on the mountain whose power went out, and even my workers, all enjoying hot cocoa and cookies around the fire—the one person missing is Maddie Foster.
As soon as we got here, we dropped Dylan’s letter in the box and I set him up with Bobby and his family, making s’mores at the fireplace while I headed back to the broom closet to find her and apologize.
But her bed was made and all the warm clothing Ibought her was folded neatly on top. From what I could tell, only her backpack, her laptop, and that photo of her family were missing.
She ran because of the things I said to her, and I can’t blame her.
And now I’m here, standing in the warm lobby and picturing her out there somewhere in those awful sneakers and that light jacket and I hate myself more than I’ve ever hated Celine for what she did to me, more than I’ve ever hated looking like a fool.
“Mr. Stone,” Michael’s voice rouses me from my spiral of self-loathing before it gets too deep.
I glance over at him, surprised when I see compassion in his eyes. He moves toward the back of the room and I trail after him, like an errant child.
“I know something went wrong between you two,” he says gently when we’re out of everyone’s earshot. “I assume you discovered where she’s been living, and how?”
I nod, swallowing over the sudden lump in my throat.
“I can’t condone lying,” Michael says. “What we did was wrong. But look around you.”
I follow his gaze out over the lobby, where people of all backgrounds are gathered, talking and laughing, happy to be enjoying each other’s company in this simple but cozy space.
It’s special somehow. The place is transcending its purpose again tonight, making each person feel like they’re wanted here, no matter how different they are from the other guests. Anyone could feel like they belong in a place like this.
“This is what she was trying to save,” he tells me softly. “This place and these people.”
Of course. How many times had I heard Maddie talk about how her father told her this place was her home?
“She was trying to savethe lodge,” I realize out loud.
“Of course she was, sir,” Michael says. “She overheard you saying you were going to tear it down, so we all pitched in, making special meals and treating her to posh amenities so that you would see there was room in your fancy world for a place like this.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling toweringly stupid.
Maddie was trying to get me to fall in love with the lodge. She never wanted to make me love her. That happened all by itself.
“I know we didn’t quite pull it off,” Michael says with a sad smile. “We’re more of a grilled cheese and homemade soup place, always have been.”
