Chapter 4
Four
Lila pulled back the curtains the next morning to find Main Street covered in a fresh blanket of white as the early morning light began to illuminate it.
Fat flakes continued to drift down, transforming the town into a scene from a snow globe.
She’d seen snow before during business trips to places like Tahoe and Park City, but in those instances, it was always an element to be dealt with, not a postcard-perfect picture to enjoy.
For a moment, she let herself appreciate the beauty of it. Then she remembered why she was here, and the familiar weight settled back into her chest.
Downstairs, the inn was still quiet. It was early, and breakfast wouldn’t be served for another hour and a half, but Carol had shown her a small nook on her floor with a couple of chairs and a coffee machine that made one cup at a time.
In desperate need of her morning ritual, Lila padded down the hall in her pajamas and a robe hoping it was early enough to avoid running into anyone else.
However, she arrived to find one of the two chairs in the nook already occupied by Sarah, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
“Good morning,” Sarah said, smiling up at her. “You’re an early riser too?”
More like a poor sleeper, but Lila forced a smile. “Nothing a little coffee can’t fix.”
As she was waiting for the machine to brew her cup, Lila turned to look out the picture window Sarah was facing.
The yard stretched out behind the inn for two hundred yards or more before it hit a mountainside, snow-covered pines dotting the landscape.
There were two cabins in the distance, just at the tree line.
“Are those part of the inn too?” Lila asked. There was no separate driveway to them, only a path that had been partially covered by the snow, so she wondered if that was where Carol and Tom lived.
Sarah nodded. “One is Carol and Tom’s, and the other is Brady’s. I don’t think they spend much time there other than to sleep though.”
“Brady lives on the property too?” Lila was surprised. It made sense that the Brennans lived there, as most B&B owners lived on their properties. Brady must receive housing as part of his compensation package.
“Since he was a teenager,” Sarah said. “Carol and Tom took him in after his parents were killed in a car crash. I was here that first Christmas afterward and heard all about how the whole town came together for him. It’s a special place.”
That really did sound awful to have lost his parents at the same time before he was even an adult.
“Wow, you really have been coming here a long time,” Lila said, not sure what else to say. It felt weird knowing something so personal about a man who’d basically dismissed her earlier.
“I love Pine Ridge at Christmas,” Sarah said, not offering any additional explanation for her frequent visits.
Lila’s coffee finished brewing and she grabbed the warm mug, planning to take it back to her room. Before she could tell Sarah she’d see her later, the woman patted the arm of the chair next to her. “Come sit.” Sarah pointed out the window. “We have visitors this morning.”
Turning to look, Lila saw a doe and a smaller deer tiptoeing out of the tree line and onto the field between the cabins. She settled into the chair, cupping her mug with her hands. The deer moved gracefully through the snow, their breath visible as small puffs in the cold morning air.
“One of the benefits of being an early riser,” Sarah said softly. “I’ve seen moose and elk here too. I love having my first cup of coffee here every morning during my stay. Such a peaceful way to start the day.”
“It’s a beautiful spot,” Lila agreed.
The larger doe lifted her head, alert, then seemed to decide all was well and returned to chewing on some kind of brush. The smaller deer stayed close to her side.
“A mother and her child,” Sarah observed quietly.
Lila felt an unexpected tightness in her chest, unable to reply. She missed her mother so much it physically hurt in moments like this, and yet watching the two graceful animals reminded her of all the beautiful things still left in the world
The women sat quietly, sipping their coffee while the deer moved around the brush and nibbled. It was nice to be able to sit with someone and not have to keep up a conversation while enjoying something as simple as watching wildlife out the window.
“Well,” Sarah said, standing as the deer began to wander back toward the trees, “I should let you enjoy your morning in peace. Thank you for sharing the view with me.”
“Thank you for pointing them out,” Lila said. “I probably would have missed them entirely.”
Sarah smiled. “That’s what Pine Ridge is for . . . slowing down to appreciate the little things.”
After Sarah left, Lila remained in the chair, watching the empty field where the deer had been. She had come to town for something else entirely, but it didn’t hurt to enjoy the scenery while she was there.
Freshly showered and dressed an hour later, Lila heard the others stirring downstairs as her stomach growled for breakfast. As she made her way down and into the lobby though, she didn’t see anyone else yet.
As she approached the dining room, she heard a mechanical whirring followed by what sounded like disgruntled mumbling.
She found Brady crouching over the coffee station in the dining room, tools spread around him as he worked on what appeared to be an ancient coffee machine. A panel was removed, revealing a tangle of wires and components that looked like a science experiment gone wrong.
Brady glanced up. “The machine’s acting up, but there’s a single-serve unit upstairs if you don’t want to wait.” He returned his attention to the machine, adjusting something with his screwdriver.
Lila moved closer, studying the ancient contraption.
“You know, there are some fantastic commercial-grade machines I always recommend to my clients. The Brew Pro 11 is what most of the high-end hotels use. It can handle high volume and makes perfect espressos, cappuccinos, and lattes. It really elevates the guest experience.”
Brady paused in his work and looked up at her with the same frown of disappointment he’d given her the previous evening.
“This machine makes coffee just fine when it’s working properly.
Our guests don’t need dessert masquerading as coffee.
They come here for the simple and traditional, not fancy and over the top. ”
“I just meant—”
“This isn’t the kind of town that needs a Starbucks on the corner,” Brady snarked.
Heat crept up Lila’s neck. She’d only been trying to help, but clearly her suggestion wasn’t welcome. “Of course. I didn’t mean to imply there was anything wrong with how you do things. Just trying to make your job a little easier.”
Brady’s expression softened slightly, as if he realized he’d been sharper than necessary. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
Remembering what Sarah had told her that morning about his parents, Lila cut him some slack and backed away to find a seat at the table. This probably wasn’t his favorite time of year, so she couldn’t blame him for being a little prickly.
Carol appeared from the kitchen carrying a tray of pastries as Lila settled in the same chair she’d occupied the night before.
“Can it be resuscitated?” Carol asked Brady.
“Should have it running in a few minutes,” Brady said, returning to his work.
“Brady keeps that machine and everything else here running,” Carol told Lila with obvious affection. “I don’t know what we would do without him.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Tom I said this, but he’s not very handy with mechanical things.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Tom said, coming out of the kitchen with a platter full of bacon.
“Love you, honey,” Carol said, turning to smile at him.
“She’s right,” Tom whispered loud enough for Carol to hear as he passed by Lila to place the bacon on the buffet table. “I can build new cabinets and repair the deck, but I stay away from things with wires and plugs.”
“You can’t be good at everything, darling,” Carol assured him as she took the platter from his hands.
Brady was focused intently on the coffee machine, but Lila caught the way a smile played at the corners of his lips as he shook his head at Carol and Tom’s playful teasing.
The other guests began filtering in. The older couple, Sophie and Miles, were debating whether to attempt a walk into town given the snow that had fallen overnight or stay in to play cards. Meanwhile, the sisters were excited about the fresh powder for the afternoon’s planned activities.
“Are you joining us for snow shoeing?” asked Sarah as she took the seat beside Lila.
“I think I might explore the town a bit instead,” Lila said. “Get my bearings.”
“Smart choice on a day like this,” Sarah said, glancing toward the windows. “The shops on Main Street are lovely, and you can duck inside if the snow gets too heavy.”
An hour later, bundled in her warmest coat, Lila stepped out into the falling snow, clutching the quilt under her arm.
The cold bit at her cheeks, but it was only a short walk into town.
Brady had gone out to shovel the walk from the inn to the street, and the sidewalk into town had already been cleared as well.
In the first block of businesses, Lila passed a bakery with steamed windows and the rich scent of fresh bread, a bookstore with displays of holiday novels, and a small general store.
Everyone she encountered smiled and nodded, the kind of friendly acknowledgment that didn’t always exist in larger cities.
Emily’s Yarn & Quilts sat halfway down the block, its hand-painted sign dusted with snow. Through the windows, Lila could see colorful displays of yarn, fabric, and quilts hanging on the walls like works of art. Her heart beat faster as she pushed open the door.
A bell chimed softly, and a woman emerged from behind a display of holiday-themed fabric. She was perhaps sixty, with silver-streaked brown hair pulled back in a loose bun and kind eyes behind black-rimmed glasses.
“Welcome,” the woman said. “Is there anything I can help you find?”
“Are you Cynthia? I called the other day about a quilt I believe came from your store.”
“I am, and you must be Lila! I’ve been hoping you’d stop by this week.”
“It’s so nice to meet you in person,” Lila said, feeling some of her nervousness ease at Cynthia’s warm welcome.
“I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about your quilt ever since you called.
” Cynthia moved closer, her expression thoughtful.
“My mother was very particular about her baby quilts. She always said they carried extra love since they were meant to comfort little ones. They usually included some little touches that were specific to each individual child.”
Lila perked up. Was there something on the quilt that might unlock more information about her past? “I know it’s a long shot, but do you think you might remember anything about this particular one?” Lila held the quilt out to Cynthia.
“I wish I could say yes, but that was so long ago, and my mother made so many beautiful pieces.” Cynthia’s eyes were kind but apologetic.
“But she did keep journals of her work, especially the commissioned pieces and special orders. I haven’t looked through them in years, but if you could leave the quilt with me for a few days, I can take a look.
You said you know what year it was made?
That would help me find the right journal. ”
Lila felt a flutter of hope mixed with nervousness. “I believe it would have been made in 1991 because the baby was born Christmas Day that year.”
“Oh, a Christmas baby. How wonderful.” Cynthia shot Lila a knowing smile. “Was that baby you, by chance?”
Lila hadn’t planned on telling Cynthia her whole life story, but maybe some details would help her find the right journal entries.
“Yes, so you’re probably wondering why I don’t know more about it.
I was adopted.” Cynthia’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“I’ve always known I was born in Colorado, but the quilt is the only other clue I have about my birth.
It was a closed adoption, but the quilt was sent with me by my birth mother. ”
“Oh my,” Cynthia said, clutching a hand over her heart as tears gleamed in her eyes.
“It seems this quilt is indeed a special one. I’m not sure if I’ll find anything, or what would even be appropriate to pass along to you, but I’d be happy to take a look, and we can cross that bridge when we get there. ”
“Thank you. I really would appreciate anything you can tell me. Even a small detail might help.”
“Of course, dear.” Cynthia’s smile was encouraging. “My mother always believed that quilts had their own stories to tell. Maybe yours is ready to share its story.”
Hope fluttered in Lila’s chest. “That would be incredible. Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. It’s one of the most human things in the world to want to know more about where you came from.” She patted the quilt like it was a precious treasure she’d keep safe while in her possession. “How long will you be in town?”
“Until Christmas Eve. I’m staying at Pine Ridge Inn.”
“You’re not staying for Christmas? Tom and Carol might as well be Mr. and Mrs. Claus for the production they make out of the holiday season.”
Lila didn’t want to reveal she was opting to spend Christmas alone. “No, I need to get back home.” It wasn’t a lie. She did need to get back home, lest she ruin Christmas for everyone with her moping.
Cynthia promised to start looking through the journals that evening, and Lila left her cell phone number.
Buoyed by the possibility that she might be one step closer, Lila stopped to browse in a couple of the other stores on Main Street, buying a candle holder made from an aspen tree for Jenna and an engraved cutting board for her neighbor, Mrs. Marbry, who always kept an eye on her condo while she was away.
Lila headed back to the inn feeling lighter than she had since arriving in Pine Ridge. Soon, she might finally have some concrete information about where she came from.