Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kathryn
" O ne sugar or two?"
I look up to find Nolan standing over an antique tea service, perfectly at ease in this quiet corner of the lodge's lounge. The fire crackles beside us, and outside the window, the first stars are appearing over the mountains.
"One," I say, sinking deeper into the overstuffed armchair. "Though I have to say, you don't strike me as a tea person."
"Aunt Evie's influence." He hands me a delicate cup, the china warm against my fingers. "She believes all important conversations should happen over tea."
"Is this an important conversation?"
His eyes meet mine over the rim of his cup. "You tell me."
I try to focus on the numbers from today's market, not on how the firelight softens his features or how different he seems here, away from the coffee shop's tensions.
"The turnout exceeded expectations," I say, pulling out my tablet. "Though you probably noticed that."
"I noticed a few things." He settles into the chair opposite mine, close enough that our knees almost touch. "Like how Sara Miller's scones disappeared faster than at the lodge's breakfast buffet."
"Are you admitting I was right about something?"
"Don't push it." But there's a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Though I will say, watching Old Joe Thompson write on that Wishing Wall was... unexpected."
"The grumpy man with the pickles?"
"The same." Nolan's laugh is rich and warm, wrapping around me like the fire's heat. "Never thought I'd see him asking for knitting lessons."
"Sometimes people just need permission to want things." I trace the rim of my teacup. "To ask for help."
"Like you're about to do?"
I look up, startled. "What?"
"You've got that look." He leans forward, and suddenly the space between our chairs feels very small. "The one you get when you're trying to solve a problem."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone who's been watching."
My heart does a little flip at his words, but I force myself to focus. "The market was successful, but..."
"But?"
"But one good event doesn't erase three years of disconnect." I set down my cup. "The locals still see us as outsiders. Corporate intruders. And Cam's attitude isn't helping."
"Ah." Nolan sits back, but his eyes stay on mine. "You want to know how to make Coffee Loft feel like it belongs here."
"Is that even possible?"
"Depends." He studies me for a moment. "Are you willing to think small?"
"Small?"
"Everyone expects big gestures from corporations. Grand events. Flashy promotions." He gestures to my tablet. "But this town runs on little things. Remembering someone's usual order. Asking about their grandkids. Saving the morning paper for Old Joe because he likes to read it with his coffee."
"Like you used to do."
Something flickers in his expression. "Like we all used to do."
"Show me?" The words slip out before I can stop them.
His eyebrows rise. "Show you what?"
"How to make it matter again. Not just the events, but the everyday moments."
The silence stretches between us, filled with firelight and possibility. Nolan's looking at me like he's seeing something new, something he hadn't expected to find.
"Thank you," I say softly.
"For what?"
"For believing this can work. Even when you had every reason not to."
"I don't know if I believe it can work." His voice is equally soft. "But I'm starting to believe you might."
Our eyes meet, and for a moment everything else falls away—the market analysis, the corporate pressure, the complicated history. There's just the firelight, the tea, and the way he's looking at me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite solve.
The grandfather clock in the hall chimes nine, breaking the spell. We both reach for our cups at the same time, hands brushing. The contact sends electricity up my arm.
"More tea?" Nolan asks, his voice slightly rough.
"I should probably go." I gather my things, trying to slow my racing heart. "Early meeting tomorrow."
He walks me to the stairs, our shoulders almost touching. At the landing, I turn to say goodnight and find him closer than I expected.
"Kathryn?"
"Yes?"
"Small steps." His smile is gentle. "Rome wasn't built in a day, and Elk Ridge won't be won over in a week."
"Even with your help?"
"Especially with my help." That dangerous half-smile returns. "I have a reputation for being difficult, remember?"
I laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet hall. "Goodnight, Nolan."
"Goodnight, city girl."
"Jake!" I nearly knock over my chair rushing to greet them in the lodge's great room. Jake catches me in a bear hug while Sophia laughs beside us.
"Looking good, boss lady." Jake sets me down, grinning. "The mountain air agrees with you."
"You mean the coffee fumes," Sophia teases, pulling me in for her own hug. "Though I have to say, this place is gorgeous."
They look exactly as I remember. Jake is tall and sandy-haired with his easy smile, Sophia radiant in a flowing dress that somehow looks perfect despite their long drive. The sight of them makes my heart ache a little for Wilmington.
"You're just in time." Evie appears with perfect timing, as always. "I've set up coffee and treats in the garden room." She turns to call over her shoulder. "Nolan? Our guests are here."
I watch Nolan approach, suddenly nervous about these two parts of my life colliding. But Jake's already stepping forward, hand extended.
"So you're the marketing genius I keep hearing about." His grin is infectious. "Kathryn mentioned your event ideas. Pretty impressive stuff."
"All part of the job." But I catch Nolan's pleased smile as he leads us to the garden room.
The space takes my breath away—all windows and natural light, with mountain views on three sides. Flowers bloom in copper planters, and a coffee service waits on a rustic table.
"This is perfect for what we want to show you." Sophia pulls something from her bag—a photo album. "The evolution of our Wishing Wall."
"Evolution?" Nolan settles into a chair beside me, close enough that I catch the scent of pine and coffee.
"It started so small." Jake accepts a cup from Evie, who's definitely not hovering with poorly concealed interest. "Just sticky notes on a wall. People writing down things they needed or dreamed about."
"Like what?" Nolan leans forward, and I find myself watching his profile.
"Everything." Sophia flips open the album. "A single mom needing help with yard work. A teenager wanting guitar lessons. An elderly man hoping someone would read to him once a week."
"And Jake here," I add, "started making them come true."
"Not all of them." Jake's modesty is genuine. "But enough. Connected people who could help each other. Before we knew it..."
"The whole town was involved." Sophia's voice warms with memory. "People would come in just to check the wall, see if there was something they could do. It became this beautiful cycle of giving and receiving."
"Show them the Thompson wish," I say, and Sophia flips to a particular page.
"Sarah Thompson, age eight." She points to a photo of a sticky note in childish handwriting. "Wished for someone to teach her to read better because her mom worked two jobs and couldn't afford a tutor."
"What happened?" Nolan asks quietly.
"We found a retired teacher to work with her." Jake smiles. "Now Sarah's top of her class, and her mom brings us coffee cake every Sunday."
I watch Nolan study the photos, his expression softening. "And corporate was okay with this?"
"More than okay." I pull out my tablet, showing him the numbers. "Customer loyalty skyrocketed. People came for coffee and stayed for connection. It transformed our whole shop."
"Into what?"
"Into what Coffee Loft is supposed to be." I meet his eyes. "A place where community happens."
Something shifts in his expression. "And you think it could work here?"
"I think it's worth trying." I gesture to the album. "Look at these stories. These connections. Elk Ridge deserves that kind of magic."
"Magic?" His tone is teasing, but his eyes are serious.
"You know what I mean."
"I do." He studies a photo of a wall covered in colorful notes. "But Cam?—"
"Will be a challenge," Jake interrupts. "I’ve seen it with other managers. Change scares people, especially people more concerned with bottom lines than human connections."
Sophia touches my arm. "You'll face resistance. We certainly do. But when it works..."
"When it works," Jake finishes, "it's like watching a whole town remember they're part of something bigger than themselves."
I feel Nolan shift beside me, his arm brushing mine. "You really believe in this, don't you?" he asks softly.
"I believe in what it could mean for Elk Ridge." I turn to face him fully. "But I can't do it alone."
Our eyes meet, and for a moment I forget we're not alone in the room. Then Jake clears his throat.
"Well," he says, sharing a look with Sophia that makes me blush, "I'd say your coffee shop's in good hands."
Evie, who's definitely been eavesdropping, swoops in to suggest showing Jake and Sophia to their rooms. As they gather their things, I notice Nolan still studying the photo album.
"What are you thinking?" I ask.
"I'm thinking..." He traces a finger over a photo of smiling people gathered around the Wishing Wall. "I'm thinking Old Joe Thompson might have more wishes than just knitting lessons."
"Is that a yes?"
He looks at me then, really looks at me, and my heart does that complicated thing it's been doing a lot lately.
"That's a 'convince me,'" he says with that half-smile that's becoming dangerously familiar.
"Challenge accepted." I close the album, very aware of how close we're sitting. "Though I should warn you, I can be pretty convincing when I believe in something."
"Oh, I'm counting on it."