Chapter 3
3
“There he is,” Chris King called out as he spotted Joe as they came down the platform. “How are ya, big brother?”
Joe hesitated, taking a deep breath before finally stepping over the curb, away from his truck, to approach his brothers.
“Good. I’m good,” he replied, pulling them both into a group hug.
Nick, ever the enthusiastic one, squeezed Joe tighter. “It’s so good to see you, bro. Man, it’s been too long.”
“It has,” Joe agreed, his voice tinged with the weight of time and distance.
As they broke the embrace, Joe asked, “How were your trips?”
Chris and Nick grabbed their bags, and the trio started walking toward Joe’s truck, which had the “Christmas Inn at Three Kings Ranch” logo prominently displayed on either side.
Nick shrugged. “Ehh. The views were nice, I suppose, but I’m glad it’s over.”
Chris chuckled. “Still can’t sit still, huh, Nick? I thought it was a nice, quiet place to get some work done.”
Joe couldn’t help but smirk. “Of course, you were working on vacation.”
They reached the truck, and Joe, ever the responsible one, took his job as the oldest very seriously, grabbed Chris’s bag, and smoothly slid it into the backseat. Chris didn’t waste any time, claiming the front passenger seat with the ease of someone who knew his place. Meanwhile, Nick lingered at the front of the truck, his hands on his hips, eyeing the seating arrangement with a playful pout. He wasn’t thrilled about being relegated to the backseat, and his expression made it clear he was contemplating whether to put up a fight or accept his fate with good humor.
“Really? Back seat? Is this a life sentence or something?” Nick quipped.
Chris shot back, “I’m older. I get shotgun.”
“Seriously? What are you, twelve?” Nick grumbled.
With an air of authority, Joe added, “Chris is older. Rules are rules. Get in the back — I have stuff to do at the ranch.”
Nick climbed into the backseat with a dramatic sigh, clearly begrudging the arrangement. He squeezed in between the suitcases, grumbling under his breath as he tried to make himself comfortable. Wedged between the luggage, he shot a playful glare at his brothers up front, silently vowing to get even for this injustice.
“Maybe if you’re good on the way home, Joey will get out your booster seat and let you drive around the ranch,” Chris teased.
Without missing a beat, Joe warned, “Not on your life. Don’t touch my truck.”
With that, they were off, Joe driving through Bethlehem Falls as the town buzzed with holiday spirit. Chris quickly pulled out his phone, already absorbed in his work, while Nick leaned back, getting comfortable as if ready to take a lazy nap during the short ride home.
“How’s the Inn looking for this season? Are we booked?” Nick asked, his eyes scanning the festive streets.
“We’ve been booked for months. Don’t you read your emails?” Joe shot back, his tone lightly scolding.
“Most of the time,” Nick replied with a lazy grin.
“Great. That’s great, Joe,” Chris murmured, barely lifting his eyes from his phone.
Joe threw him a pointed look. “Yeah. Great.”
Nick, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together. “I’ll get with Abe and see about the Christmas feast. Can’t wait to get in that kitchen again. Just like the good old days.”
Joe’s expression softened just a bit. “He already has it all worked out. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it again.”
“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t miss this year. It’s the first year without...” Nick’s voice trailed off, a rare moment of hesitation.
Joe cut him off, gaining Chris’s attention. “Yeah, I know. Since Gramps passed away.”
Chris turned, concern finally drawing him out of his distraction. “How’ve things been, you know, since...”
Joe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Hectic. Chaotic. One obstacle after another. The usual.”
Chris exchanged a quick, knowing glance with Nick in the backseat, their silent communication as clear as if they'd spoken aloud. Both recognized immediately that they’d hit a nerve with Joe, and the tension in the air was palpable. Nick shifted slightly, his usual playful demeanor tempered by a hint of caution, while Chris leaned back, weighing his next words more carefully.
“Booked season, high guest return rate — the numbers you last sent are great. Three Kings is profitable,” Chris offered, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.
“It’s been a lot to carry,” Joe admitted. “Abe’s helped a lot, and the staff has stepped up — the whole town, really.”
Chris nodded, though his tone remained factual. “Well, considering they all depend on us and?—”
Joe cut him off with a sharp look as they reached a stop sign at the edge of town. “We depend on them too. It’s like a co-op, always has been. We need this town as much as it needs us.”
“Right,” Chris conceded, “but we’re the draw and the only place to stay within a reasonable distance. Without the inn...”
Locals crossed the street in front of Joe’s truck as if on cue, waving enthusiastically when they recognized the King brothers. Joe waved back, his voice firm. “Without the town and everything with it, there wouldn’t be an inn, much less the entire ranch estate it sits on.”
Joe drove through the intersection, leaving the bustle of town behind as the landscape gradually transformed. The buildings thinned out, replaced by stretches of open fields dusted with snow, and soon, the scenery became a more rural, wooded area. Tall evergreens lined the road, their branches heavy with snow, creating a tunnel of white that seemed to welcome them back into the heart of the countryside.
Nick leaned forward, his tone earnest. “I agree with Joe. I’ve traveled the whole world and never found a place quite like this — especially at Christmas. This place is Christmas.”
“That’s why people come here year after year,” Joe added, his voice softening. “This place is special, and what storybooks are made of.”
“It’s year-round Christmas in Bethlehem Falls,” Nick mused with a smile.
Joe turned off the main road onto an expansive drive, greeted by an iron gate with a decorative plaque matching the branding on his truck: Christmas Inn at Three Kings Ranch.
As they traveled down the long, wooded drive, the landscape began to reveal its hidden treasures. Rustic cabins appeared here and there, each one nestled into the snow-covered terrain like a carefully placed ornament — walking trails wound through the trees, leading to charming wood bridges that seemed to invite exploration. Then, as if on cue, The Christmas Inn came into view, its grand lodge gleaming with festive lights and garlands. The building buzzed with life, guests already soaking in the holiday magic that the inn seemed to radiate effortlessly. It was a sight that spoke of warmth, tradition, and the timeless joy of the season.
“Oh wow,” Chris murmured under his breath, his usual composure slipping.
“She looks beautiful, just as I remember — better, actually,” Nick added as he slapped Joe on the shoulder, admiration evident in his voice.
“You’ve done a great job with the place,” Chris said, nodding approvingly. “New cabins and trails? Can’t wait to see the newest sled runs.”
Joe parked in front of the main lodge, his tone steady but filled with purpose. “Yeah, a lot of new around here. I, uh, was actually hoping to talk to you guys about that while you’re here.”