Chapter 3
Three
The GPS in her rental car led Lila through winding mountain roads as afternoon light faded behind heavy clouds.
Pine Ridge emerged from the valley like something from a Christmas card—a collection of painted wooden buildings with trim in varying colors, their windows glowing golden in the early evening light.
Main Street stretched before her, lined with old-fashioned streetlamps wrapped in evergreen garland and red velvet bows.
Her chest tightened at the sight. The town was straight out of a fairytale, or at least one of those Hallmark movies that played all season long.
Had she been here to truly just enjoy the holiday, she might park her car and get out to admire the window displays and breathe in the crisp winter air while sipping a peppermint mocha.
But this year, all that Christmas magic felt like a weight pressing on her lungs. She definitely had to get back home for Christmas so she could mope alone.
She drove slowly past Emily’s Yarn & Quilts, a cozy storefront she recognized from its website.
In person, she could tell the sign was hand-painted, and someone had taken a lot of time putting together a festive window display.
The shop was already closed for the day, but it would be at the top of her to-do list tomorrow.
Pine Ridge Inn sat at the end of Main Street backed up against the mountains.
It was a three-story log structure surrounded by a split wood fence.
Warm light spilled from the windows, and garland wound around every post and railing.
Icicle lights framed the porch, and even the inn’s sign was decorated with a small wreath.
She’d gone from avoiding Christmas this year to putting herself smack in the middle of a made-for-television Christmas movie.
Lila parked and sat for a moment, gripping her steering wheel. She could do this. She’d stayed in hundreds of hotels for work. This was just another accommodation, another place to sleep while she completed a project.
The walk from the small parking lot up the sidewalk to the inn had been cleared of snow. The building itself appeared to be well taken care of, and the small touches, like a seasonal doormat that read Be Merry and a wreath of fresh fir branches, were welcoming.
When Lila pushed open the front door, she heard the jingle of sleigh bells, and warmth enveloped her immediately.
A fire crackled in a stone fireplace surrounded by overstuffed chairs and sofas.
Christmas garland draped the mantel, interspersed with white lights that cast everything in a soft glow.
The scent of pine and cinnamon hung in the air, along with something that might have been hot cider, making her stomach growl.
“You must be Lila!” A woman in her sixties appeared from behind a rustic front desk, her reddish-blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun and her eyes bright.
“I’m Carol Brennan. We’re so glad you chose to spend the holidays with us.
You got lucky, you know. We usually book up for Christmas months in advance, but we had a cancellation this year. ”
“Thank you for having me,” Lila managed, forcing a smile. The enthusiasm in Carol’s voice made her feel guilty for being there under false pretenses.
“Tom, come meet our guest from California,” Carol called toward an open door behind the desk.
A tall man with a graying beard emerged, wiping his hands on a towel. “Welcome to Pine Ridge Inn. I hope the drive wasn’t too difficult.”
“It was beautiful,” Lila said, which was true. The mountains covered in snowy pines had been stunning, even if she’d been too nervous about the windy roads to fully appreciate them.
“We were just setting up for evening refreshments,” Carol said, gesturing toward a sideboard that held two urns—one labeled for cider and one for hot cocoa—and a plate of cookies.
“Nothing fancy, just a chance for our holiday guests to get acquainted. Most folks are settling into their rooms right now, but you’re welcome to grab something hot to drink and warm up by the fire. ”
Holiday guests. Right. Lila had temporarily forgotten she was part of a package deal. “How many guests are you expecting?”
“Eight, including you,” Tom said. “Nice intimate group for the holiday activities. Tomorrow we’ll start with snowshoeing, then cookie baking and decorating in the afternoon.”
“Friday we’ll all go out and pick the tree, then come back to make ornaments and decorate, and then Saturday is the festival downtown,” Carol added as she practically buzzed with excitement.
“We’ll keep you busy all the way through the big dinner and sleigh ride on Christmas Eve, and then we’ll all have a lovely Christmas together. ”
The weight in Lila’s chest grew heavier.
She’d assumed she could simply avoid whatever activities the inn had planned, but the Brennans’ enthusiasm made it clear they were used to everyone participating.
“That all sounds lovely,” she said carefully.
“Though I’m not sure how much I’ll be joining in.
I’m here more for the quiet retreat aspect. ”
Carol’s expression softened with understanding. “Of course, dear. The holidays can be complicated. All our activities are optional, so you do whatever feels right for you.”
Something in her tone suggested she’d hosted guests before who needed space from Christmas cheer. Lila felt a rush of gratitude for the older woman’s intuition.
“Also, I know I made my reservation through the twenty-sixth, but I really have to get going on Christmas Eve. I wanted to let you know in case you can book my room for someone else over the holiday.”
Carol cheerful expression fell, making her look like a child who’d just learned Santa wasn’t real. “You aren’t staying for Christmas?”
Lila shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I have other plans.”
“Of course, dear. Well, let me show you to your room,” Carol said, lifting Lila’s suitcase before she could protest. “You’re in the Pinecone Room on the second floor. I think you’ll love the view.”
They climbed a staircase lined with black-and-white photographs of the inn through different decades. “These are wonderful,” Lila said, pausing at one that showed the inn in what looked like the 1950s.
“Tom’s grandfather built this place in 1923,” Carol said proudly. “It’s been in the family ever since, though we’ve made updates over the years to keep guests comfortable.”
Lila’s consultant eye automatically cataloged details as they walked.
The carpet was worn but clean and the fixtures were a bit dated.
But something about the inn’s cozy feel made her reluctant to mentally redesign it.
This place had an authentic charm the luxury resorts she usually worked with sometimes lacked.
“Here we are,” Carol said, opening a door halfway down the hall. “The Pinecone Room.”
The room was smaller than Lila was used to but undeniably cozy.
A queen-sized bed dominated the space, covered with a hand-stitched quilt in shades of cream and forest green.
The pattern reminded her immediately of her baby quilt.
They weren’t identical, but similar enough to make her breath catch.
A wingback chair sat by the window, and a small writing desk occupied the corner.
“The bathroom is just through there,” Carol said, pointing to a door beside the closet. “And you have a lovely view of Main Street and the mountains beyond.”
Lila moved to the window and looked out at the snow-covered rooftops below. In the gathering darkness, every building glowed with warm light, and she could see a few people moving along the sidewalks in their long winter coats and hats.
“It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Dinner is at six-thirty if you’d like to join us,” Carol said. “Nothing formal, just a chance for everyone to meet and go over the week’s activities. Unfortunately, we only have one restaurant in town open for dinner, so we try our best to make sure no one goes to bed hungry.”
After Carol left, Lila sat on the edge of the bed and looked around her temporary home.
She unpacked methodically, hanging her clothes in the small closet and arranging her toiletries in the bathroom.
The baby quilt she placed carefully on the end of the bed, her fingers drifting over the stitching around the edge.
Tomorrow, she would take the quilt to Emily’s Yarn & Quilts and hope that Cynthia remembered something—anything—that might point her toward answers.
Tonight, she just had to get through dinner with a group of strangers who were probably thrilled to be spending Christmas in this magical little town.
She might have skipped the meal, but she’d already foregone lunch in her efforts to get to Pine Ridge before dark.
As six-thirty approached, Lila made her way downstairs.
The dining room was just off the main lobby, decorated with the same Christmas touches as the rest of the inn.
There was a single candle in each window and a festive display of garland with little red berries down the middle of the table winding between hurricane lamps that cast a warm glow.
A man was setting up the buffet along one wall, moving between the kitchen and dining room. He was about her age, with dark hair and a slight five o’clock shadow on his face. It was clear he’d done this many times before as she watched him move easily around the room.
Lila’s consultant eye automatically assessed the setup.
The buffet was positioned in a way that would create a bottleneck when guests lined up to fill their plates.
Everything was in one long line instead of separating the salad ingredients, hot food, dessert, and drinks into smaller stations where people could move around out of order.
There was plenty of room along the other wall to break the buffet at least in half, and that simple repositioning would improve flow significantly.