Chapter 1 #2
“Sorry, Camelot. You must share this dear creature with me. It was Nicole who made sure I was able to start—and, may I add, slay—veterinary school.” She gave Nicole a huge smile, but tears formed at the corners of her beautifully made-up eyes.
“Because you believed in me, Nic, I’m living the dream. ”
“Aww.” Nicole lifted the other woman’s hand and gave it a sisterly squeeze. “I can’t wait for you to be Dr. Hale.”
Across the table, Nancy and Jim Hale watched the exchange with nothing but love in their eyes.
“I’m going to echo that,” Nancy said, brushing back some hair as blond and wavy as her daughter’s. “And I’m grateful to this man”—she smiled at her husband—“for finally giving in and agreeing to let Elise fly.”
“Well, roll,” Elise cracked. “How about you, Cam?”
“You stole my thunder,” he said, pointing to Nicole. “I’m grateful for the most gorgeous and brilliant and supportive fiancée in the world and I can’t wait to make this woman my wife.”
Nicole angled her head and smiled with a happy sigh. “Thanks, babe,” she mouthed.
“I’m also grateful that after I pass my boards in January, I will actually be a certified paramedic,” he added.
That got a cheer around the table, everyone proud of Cameron’s skills as a ski patrol at Deer Valley in the winter and a firefighter in the warmer months.
“How about my sister?” MJ asked. “What are you most grateful for, Cindy?”
“So many things I’m not sure where to start, but I’m going to climb on the Nicole wagon,” she said.
Nicole groaned, briefly covering her face with her hands, her dark hair falling forward. “Too much attention on me.”
“I’m grateful you got on a plane a year ago, flew to Vermont, and persuaded your father to come to Park City and run the Snowberry Sleigh.
And win back my heart.” Cindy lifted her left hand and let the diamond he’d given her moments before midnight last New Year’s Eve catch the light.
“I can’t wait to be Mrs. Kessler…again.”
There were more cheers and toasts for that.
“I’m grateful for a second chance,” Jack said when the commotion died down, his gaze on Cindy. “And the opportunity to run Snowberry, be with my family”—he glanced at Nicole—“and make up for lost time.”
He leaned over and gave Cindy a sweet kiss on the temple just as she caught the rumble of Red’s voice and the sharp whisper of Benny’s—both of them looking at Red’s phone screen.
“Really, you two?” she asked, pointing at them. “Texting at the table during MJ’s gratitude game?”
“A text? Is that what this is?” Red asked Benny. “You called it…letters.”
Benny ducked his head as if expecting to be reprimanded. “It’s a TikTok DM,” he explained. “And Grandpa doesn’t know how to open it. Now, if I had my own phone—”
“Benny.” Gracie gave her son a rare harsh look. “This is not the time for TikTok.”
“But, Mom, I think this one’s important.”
Nancy and Jim appeared a little confused by the exchange.
“Benny started a very popular social media account last year called Grumpy Santa,” Cindy explained.
“Oh, Nicole told us,” Nancy said. “Are you running it again for this Christmas season, Benny?”
“Kind of,” Benny said. “When Christmas ended, I morphed it into a Snowberry Lodge account then did some content on our renovations.”
“Some content?” MJ asked on a laugh. “Benny made art out of the demolition, set ‘before and after’ videos to music, and interviewed the subcontractors like they were celebrities.” You could hear the grandmotherly pride in her voice as she spoke.
“Impressive,” Jim said, nodding to Benny.
“So what’s the message, honey?” Gracie asked her son on a sigh. “And why is it important enough to discuss at the Thanksgiving table?”
Benny angled the screen and narrowed his eyes. “Looks like an influencer who goes by the handle of ‘aisle files.’”
“What?” Cindy choked the word.
“It’s aisle like A-I-S-L-E,” he explained, misunderstanding her reaction. “That’s a wedding thing, I guess.”
The others laughed, but not Cindy or Nicole. They’d been buried in wedding research this year and knew exactly who this influencer was—and what she could do for Snowberry Weddings if they got on her radar.
“Aisle Files?” Nicole whispered, pressing her hands on the table like she had to contain herself. “What’s the message? No, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, the answer is yes. The right content from them could…” She looked at Cindy.
“Could book the Starling Room for a year,” Cindy finished. “They have a massive YouTube channel with a million subscribers, a wedding planning podcast, and are famous for making a venue take off.” She heard her voice rise with every word. “What did she say, Benny?”
“Oh, so now I can look at Grandpa’s phone at the table?” he teased.
“Give that to me, honey.” Gracie eased the device from his hand.
“Please, someone read it,” Cindy said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Gracie sucked in a breath as she skimmed the note. “Brace yourself, Aunt Cindy. Dominique Parrish, owner of Aisle Files, says, ‘Hello. We’ve been following your renovation and absolutely love the cozy mountain aesthetic, the family story, and—’”
“Of course she does,” Jack murmured, squeezing Cindy’s leg under the table, his excitement as real as hers.
“‘—the heart your beautiful Starling Room will bring to small weddings. We heard that you have a ceremony planned on December tenth to debut the venue.’”
“How did she hear about our wedding?” Cindy rasped the question, still in disbelief.
Benny made a guilty face, and Red cocked a white brow. “Told you not to put that in a video.”
“It’s okay,” Cindy said. “Keep reading, Gracie.”
“‘If so, we would love to feature the event with a small film crew and interviewer as part of our ‘Intimate, Intentional, Incredible’ winter series on spectacular venues. But we only do it as part of a wedding, not just a commercial. Think behind-the-scenes prep, ceremony details, and a short interview with the couple and venue team. No cost to you, full rights to use the footage, and we’ll amplify across our channels with promos on YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram for a week before airing in January. Let me know if your bride and groom would be amenable and we can hop on a call this week.’”
For a moment, no one said a word until Cindy turned to Jack. “Are we amenable?” she asked in a high-pitched whisper.
He just laughed. “I’m gonna say it looks like the guest list for our wedding just grew.”
Cindy put her hand over her lips to keep from squealing. “And so did our gratitude list. Put Benny at the top! Honey, you are a rock star.”
“And rock stars definitely have phones,” he said. “Ahem, Mom, Christmas is around the corner.”
Everyone talked at once, but Cindy sat in stone silence, trying to believe what just happened.
The break she needed, that’s what. The launch pad that would catapult the Starling Room and Snowberry Weddings to massive success.
And it was her very own wedding that would make it happen!
“Are you sure?” she asked Jack as it all sank in. “It might…be a little distracting from the day.”
“If you could see how happy you are right now”—he put his hand on her cheek, holding her face to his—“you wouldn’t even ask.”
She inched closer and kissed him right on the lips. “Thank you.” Then she turned to Benny. “Please give her my name and number.”
“I already did,” Gracie said, handing Red’s phone back.
Somehow, they got back to the gratitude lists, but through it all, Cindy felt like she might float to the ceiling.
Later, while they cleaned up, Gracie set out an array of desserts that proved why Sugarfall was the most popular bakery in Park City.
While everyone talked and laughed and nibbled the pumpkin tarts and apple pie, Cindy slipped around the corner of what used to be the mudroom, following a short hall to the double doors that opened into the back of the Starling Room.
Holding her breath, she turned the brass knob and stepped inside, chills dancing up her spine as she imagined Dominique Parrish seeing this room for the first time.
How could anyone not fall in love with this warm, inviting, extraordinary space?
The wide pine floor glowed golden in the waning daylight pouring in from a wall of French doors and huge windows.
All that glass showcased a magnificent mountain view just beyond a brand-new gazebo built for summer weddings and private toasts.
The white gazebo sat tucked into dark pines that glistened with new snow.
Cream silk drapes framed the windows in long, graceful lines, giving the room the perfect balance of elegance and coziness.
Her gaze lifted to the cathedral ceiling, its rough-hewn beams strong and proud, all holding bronze and glass chandeliers that spilled a gentle glow into the corners of the room.
But what pulled at her heart was the small, raised platform at the far end of what would be the “aisle” when the chairs were set up for weddings.
In the middle stood a wooden arch, big enough for a couple to stand under its curved canopy, its weathered frame more beautiful than anything polished and new.
No, the trellis—as they’d called it for decades—wasn’t as perfect as the rest of the room, but Owen Starling had made that arch from the trees on this land for the occasion of his wedding to Irene in 1939.
To anyone with Starling blood, that trellis was perfect.
Cindy felt the weight of that history, of family and love layered into a room that so beautifully captured the old and new.
When Dominique saw this in person, she’d—
“Imagining your pitch?”
At the sound of Jack’s voice behind her, she turned to see him leaning on the door jamb, arms crossed, a sweet smile on his handsome face.
“As a matter of fact…”
He chuckled, coming toward her, reaching for her hands. “Or are you thinking about our wedding?”
She heard the hopeful note in his voice, and it touched her.
“I was admiring the trellis that you and Cameron literally packed into the UTV and hand-carried into this room.” She chuckled at the memory of how determined Jack had been to transport the beast from what was once her grandmother’s garden to this room. “I’m so glad you did that.”
“I had to, Cin.” He lifted one brow.
“Had to?” she asked.
He just shrugged. “Your family’s history is important to me. It’s what makes you…you.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re so romantic, Jack.”
“Hopeful and happy,” he corrected, kissing her hair in a familiar move that always made her melt into him. “Not quite as happy as you are about this Dominique woman, though.”
“It’s exciting,” she said. “We’ll get advertising we could never afford and, honestly, that message just made all our lives easier. Not that I want it to complicate our special day.”
“Then we won’t let it,” he said calmly. “And speaking of our day…” He pulled her a little closer, lifting his arm into a classic dance pose. “I’ve been thinking about our wedding dance,” he admitted, swaying her a little.
As he started to move to music only he heard, she dropped her head on his shoulder, echoes of all the things MJ had said before dinner still in her head.
She had changed this past year, Cindy thought. Jack was a huge part of that change, too. He’d taken away a sense of loneliness, filling her life and her heart. He’d brought so much laughter to her days and peace to her nights.
And when he suggested taking over the lodge management, he’d given her a new professional purpose.
Instead of battling the spreadsheets that taunted her, instead of juggling vendors and payroll and reservations, she felt wildly creative and liberated by her new venture in weddings.
At sixty, she felt like her life was just starting, and that was truly the thing she was most grateful for on this snowy Thanksgiving evening.
Nothing could change that, just like nothing could tear Cindy and Jack Kessler apart again. She simply wouldn’t let it.