Chapter 13 Cindy
Afew days later, Cindy sat behind her desk, ignoring the snowfall outside. In here, she had her own avalanche to worry about—paperwork that she’d been pretending to tackle all morning. All had been abandoned in favor of the phone she now clutched like a lifeline.
Henry Lassiter’s lilting tone continued to make the future look brighter and more secure. Also…confusing.
“So just to make sure I understand,” Cindy said, hoping he didn’t get frustrated with her questions, “if we go forward with this, the funds would be wired directly to our business account in…trenches? Tranches?” She squinted at her hastily scrawled notes.
“Things tied to approved renovations, right?”
“You got it, Cindy,” he said, no sign of waning patience.
“The first portion, what we call the seed tranche, would be initiated within ten business days of executing the partnership agreement and validating the escrow release form. That’s contingent on you fronting the initial percentage—it’s just a standard collateral measure. ”
Cindy frowned slightly, clicking her pen nervously. “You mentioned this before. The fifty thousand that we have to put into the account, right?”
“Yes, but don’t get too caught up in that,” he assured her.
“Think of it like a deposit. Very temporary, and will be refunded in full along with the entire amount of $250,000. Our bank requires you to deposit twenty percent to unlock the full capital commitment, just to mitigate risk for both parties. And listen, Cindy, this isn’t just me putting up money.
This is a strategic partnership.” He paused, taking a deep breath.
“I really do believe in Snowberry Lodge.”
“You’ve only seen it once,” she said. “MJ would love to meet you and, if I know my sister, feed you. We want you to get the full experience, maybe even stay here for a weekend.”
“Oh, no. You’d comp that.”
“Of course we would. And put you in our best—well, second best—cabin. Best is currently booked.”
“As it should be,” he replied. “I will not be responsible for taking away one dollar from your lodge by staying in a room or cabin you can book with paying customers. But I’d love to meet MJ.
Let me juggle my schedule.” She heard a keyboard click in the background.
“I do have to go back East for a week or so to close another deal, but I’ll be back in Park City right after that.
Although it might be very close to Christmas, and I don’t want to intrude. ”
“Oh, you’re welcome to spend the holiday with us…and help me understand this deal a little better.” She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her temples. “I’m still unclear on where the funds go first. You said something about a lockbox account?”
“Sure,” he replied easily. “I know, this jargon is so boring and confusing. I’ll try to make it clear.
So, what we’d do is open a dual-controlled escrow lockbox.
That’s just a fancy way of saying the funds are secured in a neutral account managed by a fiduciary party—usually a regional bank.
I’ll send you a copy of the mock escrow form.
Once your seed contribution is verified, we release the first disbursement into your operating account. ”
“And we’d have to start renovations right away?”
“Oh, no, no. You can wait until you’re ready, but if you can squeeze it in during this calendar year, before January first? You’ll get a huge tax break. You should talk to your accountant.”
She was her accountant. “But no break on what I owe on these property taxes, right?”
“No, this will have no impact on that, except to ease the pain of it,” he said. “But everything is fully traceable and audited, of course, and then I’m basically on board as an investor. A shareholder, of sorts.”
“I’ve never done anything like this,” Cindy admitted, her voice softening. “I just want to be careful. This lodge…it’s our family legacy.”
“Which is exactly why this works,” Henry said warmly.
“You’re not just another real estate client.
You’re passionate about Snowberry Lodge.
I can tell you, as an investor, we love that.
And with your experience? You’re the ideal partner.
We’re just giving you the boost to take it into the next iteration—a beautifully remodeled lodge that easily competes with the big hotels. ”
Her pulse slowed. He made her feel like this wasn’t some reckless gamble but a smart, calculated move. Like she was taking control. Saving the lodge, rather than watching it slip through her fingers.
Cindy bit her lip and underlined the word “tranches” in her notebook.
“While I’m out of town,” he said, “I’ll have my assistant send you everything we discussed—PDFs of the framework, sample agreements, term sheets. It’s a lot of legalese, but don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it. We can do a video call if you like, or you can take it to your attorney first.”
“Okay,” she said, almost whispering. “Thank you, Henry. Really.”
“My pleasure. And Cindy? For what it’s worth—you’re doing a brave thing. Most people would’ve sold the place and walked away. I love that you’re a fighter. It’s a big part of why I want to be on board with Snowberry. I believe in the lodge, and I believe in you.”
She smiled faintly. “Yeah. Well. I’m stubborn.”
“I like that in a business partner.”
They ended the call, and for a moment, Cindy just sat there. Her heart thudded—not with dread, but hope. A real investor. A real plan. Maybe this could work. Maybe this was the next chapter in the long story of Snowberry Lodge.
Cindy leaned back in her chair and looked at the twinkling lights outside the office window as night threatened to fall and fall fast. Snowberry looked like a snow globe this time of year—glittering pine trees, smoking chimneys, wreaths on every cabin door.
It was magic. And for the first time in months, she could almost see a way forward.
A knock on the office door jolted her out of her thoughts.
Turning, her heart did an unexpected leap at the sight of Jack bracing his arms on the doorjamb. He’d changed from his carriage uniform to a forest green flannel under a shearling-lined coat, snow dusted across his shoulders. His face, ruddy from the cold, broke into a sweet, familiar grin.
“Woman, you work too hard.”
She lowered the laptop screen and flipped her notebook over, not really wanting to talk to Jack about the Henry Lassiter plan. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t.
“I’m done for the day,” she announced.
“Awesome!” He stepped inside and held her gaze. “My last sleigh ride canceled, and I don’t have another until long after dinner. I gave Red some well-deserved time off and I would like you, my dear, to come with me on a sleigh ride.”
Her whole body fluttered at the invitation, and the term of endearment. She tried to cover it up by sliding into her safe and secure business mode.
“They canceled?” she asked.
“Rescheduled for tomorrow,” he promised her. “Conditions at DV were excellent today and they’re wiped out from a day on the slopes. Everyone is saying it’s a great ski week.”
Everyone but Nicole—another thing she didn’t want to mention to him. But only because her daughter asked her not to.
“I appreciate you working so hard, Jack. I’m sure all this powder is making you antsy to get on skis.”
He just shook his head, his dark gaze pinned on her as he drew closer. “I don’t feel like skiing, Cin. Now, come with me. Copper is all harnessed and ready. You can’t keep avoiding taking a sleigh ride with me.”
But she could try. Yes, she’d spent plenty of time with him over the last ten days or so. They’d shared meals, talked by the fire late into the night, even perused some old family photo albums, laughing over Nicole’s antics as a baby.
But she had yet to find the nerve to get back on that sleigh again, because last time? She darn near kissed him.
“Just making room for paying customers,” she added, echoing Henry’s excuse.
“Well, this ride is on me.” He reached his hand over the desk and, without really thinking about it, she slipped her fingers into his chilly, strong ones. “Please?”
She exhaled, feeling any fight slipping away. “I’d love to.”
The snow had stopped by the time Cindy put on a jacket, boots, gloves, and a festive red beanie that Nic had given her last year for Christmas. She walked outside to join Jack, who was cooing in Copper’s ear and no doubt slipping him treats to bribe him for another ride.
As he stepped away and turned to her, Cindy’s breath caught, slammed with déjà vu at the sight of her ex-husband standing in front of the Snowberry Sleigh.
Behind him, the dark cherrywood and black leather seats gleamed in the lamplight of the antique brass lanterns hanging on the sleigh. It was like time faded away. Instead of Copper, there was another horse, and a younger man who tempted her every time he was nearby.
And he was tempting her again.
“Cute hat,” he said, coming closer to give the pom-pom a playful tap. “Still the pretty blonde in a red cap just like the first time we did this.”
Had she’d worn a red hat that day? She didn’t remember but was touched that he did. “Well, there are silver threads in this blond head. More every day.”
He laughed and brushed his own rather salty hair. “No kidding.” Then he reached for her hand. “Let me help you up.”
He eased her into the sleigh seat, his gloved hand lingering in hers just a beat longer than necessary. As he followed and settled beside her, she let out a silent exhale, but the soft puff of cold air gave away her nerves.
“You think we’re going to have a problem?” he asked, giving her a side-eye. “Copper knows this route like he was born for it now, and we don’t go anywhere near the places that spook him.”
She looked up at him, lost for a moment. Utterly and completely lost.
“It’s not Copper I’m worried about.” Not by a long shot.
He leaned a millimeter closer, his mouth lifting in a sly smile. “I’ll behave.”