Chapter 9
Nine
The caroling group had assembled around the gazebo in the town square, a collection of familiar faces from the inn mixed with Pine Ridge locals bundled in winter coats and scarves.
Carol stood at the front with a stack of song sheets, her cheeks pink from the cold and her eyes bright with excitement.
“All right, everyone,” she called out, “we’ll start with ‘Silent Night’ and work our way through the classics. Don’t worry if you’re not a singer. This is about spreading holiday cheer, not winning any competitions.”
Brady appeared beside Lila, close enough that she could smell the faint scent of pine and soap that seemed to cling to him. “Fair warning,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I have been known to clear entire buildings with my singing.”
“That bad?” Lila asked, surprised by his playful tone.
“Let’s just say there’s a reason I stick to chopping wood and fixing coffee machines.” His eyes crinkled with humor. “What about you? Are you going to show us all up with your perfect pitch?”
“I wouldn’t count on it. I’m more of a shower singer myself.”
“You can hide in the back with me then,” he said, grabbing her arm and leading her farther back in the crowd.
Lila’s stomach fluttered both at his touch and the way he’d thawed toward her after their conversation the evening before. He wasn’t the grump she’d taken him for at first, he was just guarded and protective of the inn and the couple who’d taken him in when he’d nearly lost it all.
By the time Carol got to them, she was down to one song sheet.
“We can share,” he said, taking the paper. “As long as Lila doesn’t tell me it would be faster to sing without the second round of the chorus.” He flashed a smile at Lila.
She punched him playfully in the arm. “I’m not that bad.”
Carol gave him a knowing smile, and Lila wondered if her instincts were right. Brady was flirting with her. It was probably just the lack of available women here around their age. The town’s demographics trended a little older.
Brady had moved even closer now, holding the sheet up in front of them. The warmth radiating from his body made her acutely aware of his presence, and when his shoulder brushed hers as he leaned in to read the lyrics, she felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the winter air.
“Silent Night” began with Carol’s clear soprano leading the way, and gradually other voices joined in.
Brady, despite his warnings, had a pleasant baritone that blended nicely with the group.
When Lila tentatively added her own voice to the mix, he glanced down at her, and she felt heat creep up her neck.
“Not bad,” he murmured during a pause between verses.
“You too. You lied about the building-clearing thing.”
“Maybe I just needed the right singing partner.”
The comment, delivered with a small smile, made her stomach do a little flip. Was Brady Hanson actually charming behind those walls of his?
They moved through several more carols, their voices growing stronger and more confident as a group.
During “Let it Snow,” Brady caught her eye during the line about “the fire is slowly dying,” and raised his eyebrows meaningfully toward the inn in the distance, where smoke was indeed rising from the chimney.
She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
“You’re taking this very literally,” she whispered.
“I’m providing visual aids. It’s educational.” He flashed that smile again that threatened to buckle her knees.
Between songs, Lila watched Brady interact with the other carolers. He helped Mrs. Patterson, an elderly woman from town, adjust her scarf when the wind picked up. When a small boy tugged on his coat, Brady immediately crouched down to the child’s eye level.
“Mr. Brady,” the boy said, his words slightly muffled by his winter hat, “my mom says you know where Santa keeps his reindeer.”
“Well,” Brady said seriously, “that’s classified information.
But I might know someone who could arrange a special viewing.
” He glanced toward the boy’s mother, who was watching with obvious affection.
“If it’s okay with your mom, you and I could take a walk tomorrow to see if we can spot any reindeer tracks in the snow behind the inn. ”
The child’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Really?”
“Really. But it has to be early, before they fly back to the North Pole for their afternoon nap. They’ve got a big job to do tomorrow night.”
Lila heart swelled as she watched Brady make promises to a little boy about imaginary reindeer tracks.
The man who’d been so resistant to her suggestions about coffee machines was currently volunteering to wake up early on Christmas Eve morning to preserve a child’s belief in magic.
She’d been as wrong about him as he’d been about her.
“You’re really something,” she said quietly when Brady stood up.
“What do you mean?”
“That was incredibly sweet.”
Brady’s cheeks, already pink from the cold, seemed to redden further. “Kids should get to believe in magic, especially at Christmas.”
Before Lila could respond, Carol was calling for their attention again. “All right, carolers, time for our grand finale. ‘O Holy Night,’ and then we’ll head over to the tree lighting ceremony.”
As the familiar melody began, Lila found herself standing closer to Brady than strictly necessary.
His voice, rich and warm, seemed to wrap around hers as they sang together.
When they reached the soaring high notes of “fall on your knees,” she was surprised by the strength and beauty of his voice joining with the group.
“You really can sing,” she said when the song ended to scattered applause from passersby.
“Only when properly motivated.”
“What motivates you?”
Brady looked down at her, his green eyes serious despite the smile playing at his lips. “Good company.”
The simple answer, delivered with quiet sincerity, made her breath catch. She didn’t have time to be distracted from her mission in Pine Ridge, but Brady didn’t feel strictly like a distraction. He was beginning to feel like an anchor. Like a safe harbor in uncertain winds.
The caroling group began dispersing, some heading home and others moving toward the town square where the tree lighting ceremony would begin shortly. Brady offered Lila his arm as they walked across the snowy street.
“Careful,” he said, “it’s getting slippery.”
The gesture felt both practical and intimate, and Lila found herself enjoying the solid strength of his arm beneath her hand. They joined the growing crowd around the tall Christmas tree that dominated the town square, its dark branches outlined against the evening sky.
“How long have they been doing the tree lighting?” Lila asked as they found a spot with a good view.
“As long as I can remember. My parents used to bring me when I was little.” Brady’s voice grew softer. “It was always the highlight of Christmas for me, standing here with the whole town, watching the tree come to life.”
“It must be bittersweet now, without them.”
“Sometimes. But also comforting. Like when I’m somewhere we used to be together it’s like they’re here too, you know?”
Lila nodded in understanding. Her own parents had loved Christmas traditions, and she’d avoided them this year because they hurt too much. Maybe that had been the wrong approach though.
The crowd continued to grow as families with children, elderly couples, and groups of friends filled the square.
Strings of lights had been strung between the lampposts, creating a magical canopy overhead.
Vendors circulated through the crowd selling hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts, their calls adding to the festive atmosphere.
“Here,” Brady said, pressing a steaming cup into her hands. “You looked cold.”
“When did you—” She looked around, realizing he must have approached one of the vendors while she was distracted by the growing crowd. “Thank you.”
“Can’t have you freezing during the ceremony. That would be bad for Pine Ridge’s reputation.”
She took a sip of the hot chocolate, rich and warming, and caught Brady watching her reaction with obvious pleasure. “It’s perfect.” Although his small gesture made her feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate.
A microphone crackled to life near the base of the tree, and Mayor Johnson stepped forward to address the crowd. After a few brief remarks about community and tradition, he introduced Carol as the evening’s master of ceremonies.
“Carol Brennan has been the heart of our Christmas festival for more years than I can count,” the mayor said. “She embodies the spirit of Pine Ridge—welcoming, generous, and dedicated to making everyone feel like family.”
Carol looked radiant under the lights, her face glowing with genuine joy as she looked out over the crowd. When she began to speak, her voice carried clearly through the winter air.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” she began. “For thirty-eight years, I’ve had the privilege of calling Pine Ridge home, and every year this ceremony reminds me of what makes this place so special.
“We gather here not just to light a tree, but to celebrate the connections that bind us together,” Carol continued. “Pine Ridge is a family. We see each other through difficult times, and we celebrate each other’s joys as if they were our own.”
Brady moved slightly closer, and Lila was intensely aware of his presence beside her. His hand brushed against hers, and she had to fight to resist the urge to slip her hand into his.
“I’ve learned over the years that love multiplies when it’s shared,” Carol said, her voice carrying across the square.
“The children we nurture, whether they’re born to us or not.
” She made eye contact with Brady, and Lila looked over to see him give a small nod and smile in return.
“The friends who become family. The strangers who become neighbors.
Every act of kindness, every moment of connection, adds light to our community.
“And sometimes,” Carol continued, her voice growing softer but somehow more powerful, “the most precious gifts are the ones we never expected to receive. The second chances, the new beginnings, and the new people who find their way to us through the most unexpected paths.”
Lila felt tears prick her eyes. Whether Carol was her birth mother or not, the words felt like they were meant just for her.
“So tonight, as we light this tree together, let’s remember that we’re not just illuminating Pine Ridge. We’re celebrating the light that each of us brings to this community, and the brightness we create when we choose to love one another.”
The crowd erupted in applause, and Carol stepped back with a warm smile.
The mayor returned to the microphone for the countdown, but Lila barely heard him.
She didn’t have to debate taking Brady’s hand anymore, because Brady’s hand had found hers, and when she looked up at him, she found him watching her with an expression that made her heart race.
“Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .” the crowd chanted together.
“Seven . . . six . . . five . . .”
Brady leaned down, his voice low and meant only for her. “Are you okay?” He wiped a tear trickling down her cheek with a gloved finger.
“Four . . . three . . . two . . .”
“Happy tears,” she whispered back.
“ONE!”
The tree burst to life in a cascade of golden lights, thousands of tiny bulbs transforming the dark evergreen into something magical. The crowd cheered and applauded, children squealed with delight, and someone began singing “O Christmas Tree.”
But Lila barely noticed any of it. Brady was still looking at her with that intense, questioning expression, and she realized that somewhere between trying to rearrange the buffet, looking for the perfect tree, and Carol’s speech about unexpected family, she’d started to fall for this man who fixed ancient coffee machines and promised little boys they’d see reindeer tracks.
“It truly is magical,” Lila commented as she stared up in wonder at the lights twinkling on every branch.
Brady squeezed her hand. “It is,” he said in a way that suggested he meant more than just the tree.
They stood there quietly as if they were the only two people in town, and it felt nice to be able to just be still with someone. Lila couldn’t remember the last time she’d been able to just let herself be.
Someone from town stopped to tell Brady goodbye, and the spell was broken. The others from the inn had already begun walking back, and she could just make out their silhouettes down the street in the lamp light.
“We should probably head back,” Brady said as the crowd thinned.
She nodded. “Probably.”
He reached for her hand again, and they began walking slowly back toward the inn. The streets were quieter now, most of the festival activity winding down for the evening, but the whole town seemed to glow with the warmth of celebration and community.
Brady dropped her hand as they reached the front door of the inn, and she immediately missed the weight of it in hers. He must have seen the disappointment on her face.
“I need to go help Tom get a few things ready for tomorrow, but if you’re not tired yet, maybe we could sit by the fire for a little while after?”
She nodded. “I’d like that. I’ll just go change into something more comfortable.”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby in a half hour,” he said.
As Lila climbed the stairs, she knew what she wanted to do. She was going to tell Brady why she’d really come to Pine Ridge. Maybe he knew something about Carol she didn’t.