Chapter Twenty-One The Gala
The Hale Ski Lodge looked like it belonged on the front of a glossy magazine that promised you could reinvent your life if you bought the right wool coat.
White lights traced the roofline and the stone archway. Lanterns glowed along the walkway, the kind that made every snowflake look intentional. Music drifted faintly through the closed doors, softened by glass and distance, and the air smelled like pine, woodsmoke and money.
I stood at the base of the steps with my gloved hands tucked into my coat pockets, breathing slowly so I did not fog up the confidence I had been practicing all week.
“You look like you are about to be knighted,” Kitty murmured beside me.
“I look like I might faint,” I whispered back.
Kitty angled her head, taking in the guests moving past us. “Honestly, fainting would be iconic. But maybe save it for the dance floor so we can cause a scene.”
Meri, on my other side, made a quiet sound that could have been a laugh or a warning. “Try to keep your scene to a minimum. We have enough going on without becoming local gossip.”
Mom turned around from where she and Dad stood one step higher, both of them bundled in formal winter coats that didn’t hide how carefully they had dressed underneath. Mom’s cheeks were rosy from the cold. Her eyes were bright like she was holding back excitement on principle.
“We are going to be fine,” she told us, gentle but firm, like she was reminding us we had survived worse than an expensive party. “We belong here. We were invited.”
Dad looked over his shoulder. “And if we get lost, we follow Braxton. He looks like he has been at these since birth.”
Braxton, in a dark suit that made him look unfairly put together, offered a polite, innocent smile, his arm threaded through Jane’s. “I have attended a few charity galas. I spent most of them looking for the dessert table.”
Dex stood next to Lucy with his hands in his coat pockets, calm and unreadable, as if he was assessing the building’s structural integrity rather than preparing to enter a room full of donors.
Lucy squeezed his arm, her smile warm and steady in that way that made people feel more comfortable around her without even realizing why.
“You all look beautiful,” Lucy told us. Then she glanced toward Kitty. “Please do not tackle anyone unless they truly deserve it.”
“No promises,” Kitty murmured.
We climbed the steps together, a slightly chaotic line of Bennets plus one Fitzwilliam and one Hale. The doors opened before we reached them, as if someone inside had been watching our approach and decided to get it over with.
Warmth spilled out, scented with cinnamon and something floral I couldn’t place. The sound hit next, a live band somewhere deeper in the lodge, the soft swell of strings and piano, elegant enough to make me straighten my back on instinct.
A woman in a black dress with a headset smiled brightly. “Welcome. Names.”
Mom answered first, her voice clear. “Bennet. Helen and William Bennet.”
The woman checked a clipboard, then nodded. “Of course. Please enjoy the evening. The coat check is to the left, and the main ballroom is through the archway.”
We shuffled politely to coat check, passing guests who moved like they had practiced gliding as children. I tried to keep my expression neutral as I handed over my coat, as if I did this weekly and had never once panicked about my hair.
Kitty leaned toward me. “Everyone here looks like they own at least one limo on standby all the time.”
Meri answered without looking up. “Or have a hired town car to drive them around.”
Kitty’s mouth twitched. “Worse.”
I smoothed my dress once, then once more, then forced myself to stop. My hands were trembling, not with fear exactly, but with the awareness that I could not blend into a crowd like this unless I made myself believe I could.
The ballroom opened ahead of us in a wash of light.
There were crystal chandeliers, polished wood floors, and tall windows that framed the dark winter outside like a painting. The tables dressed in white linens and greenery, name cards arranged with precision, while wine glasses catching the light and reflecting it in tiny flashes.
People turned as we entered. Not openly or rudely, but a brief sweep of attention, the same way a room assessed any new arrival.
I held my chin level and walked forward anyway.
We moved as a cluster at first, then loosened naturally, over time.
Lucy and Dex drifted toward a group near the center where Carly stood, laughing, her dress sparkling under the lights as if she had personally instructed them to shine harder for her.
Braxton followed, Jane beside him. He was already smiling in his charming way, offering his hand to someone who looked relieved to be greeted.
Mom paused, taking it all in. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”
Dad’s expression softened, pride showing through his usual restraint. “It is. You look like you belong here.”
Mom laughed under her breath, but she looked pleased, too. She squeezed his arm and stepped forward like she was claiming the space rather than borrowing it.
Kitty immediately found the buffet.
“I need to see what kind of food rich people pretend they don’t eat,” she announced, and vanished toward a long table lined with appetizers so delicate they looked like they had been assembled with tweezers.
Meri stayed close to me, her gaze scanning the room as if she was cataloging exits and personalities. She had that gift, the ability to observe without being noticed. It made her an excellent sister to have at an event that made my skin feel too exposed.
“You’re doing fine,” she murmured, as if she had read my thoughts off my face.
“I have only been here for thirty seconds,” I whispered.
“Then neither of us have had enough time to make trouble. We shall have to rectify that.”
I almost laughed, and the sound steadied me.
We made our way through clusters of guests, accepting polite greetings from people who recognized our names from local gossip or the parade or simply the novelty of the Snowdrop Inn being back in conversation again.
I answered questions with a smile that felt real, even when my stomach fluttered.
Yes, the renovation was going well. Yes, we hoped to have a grand opening soon. Yes, it had been a family effort.
Every so often, I caught sight of Collin across the room, which made my shoulders tense on instinct.
He was dressed like he was attending a royal wedding. His suit was too formal, his tie too dramatic, and he held himself with the confident certainty of a man who believed the room should be grateful for his presence.
His unfortunate haircut was trimmed even further, this time with what I thought was distinctly a square shorn almost to baldness on one side of his crown.
As Kitty rejoined us, she spotted him at the same time and made a strangled sound. “He is wearing a pocket square. A pocket square the size of a napkin.”
Meri’s eyes flicked over Collin. “He looks like a man about to sell a time-share.”
Kitty nodded grimly. “In a castle.”
I forced myself to look away and focus on safer problems, like how I was supposed to hold a drink and also not fidget with my hands. “Let’s move before he sees us.”
We found Lucy near one of the high cocktail tables, her eyes bright as she spoke with Carly. Carly greeted us with genuine warmth, her bracelets catching the light as she gestured.
“There you are,” she said. “You all look fantastic. I am so glad you came.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” Mom replied, sincere.
Carly’s gaze landed on me. “And you, the parade queen. Braxton told me that you drove that antique truck like you had been doing it your whole life.”
My face warmed. “That’s generous.”
“That is accurate,” Carly corrected. “Enjoy tonight. Eat something. Drink something. Let yourself have fun before the speeches start.”
She was swept away by another guest before I could answer properly, leaving Lucy smiling at me.
“See,” Lucy murmured. “We’re doing it. We’re being normal.”
“Normal is a stretch,” I whispered.
“The acoustics are decent,” Dex noted. He glanced toward the band as if that was the most important thing in the room.
Lucy elbowed him lightly. “Dex.”
He looked at her, expression softening. “I’m being supportive.”
Braxton returned with two drinks, offering one to Jane and one to himself, and I caught the way he leaned in closer to her as he spoke. Their smiles matched. It was the kind of tenderness that made you feel both happy and slightly lonely at the same time.
I turned to look for Kitty, partly to make sure she was not starting an argument with a shrimp tower, and that was when I saw him.
Ephram.
He stood near the edge of the ballroom, half turned as he listened to someone speak.
He was dressed in a dark suit, tailored enough to sit cleanly on his shoulders, his brown hair brushed back in a way that looked unfamiliar and unfairly attractive.
He blended into the crowd so well that if I had not known his posture, his stillness, I might have missed him.
My breath caught as my mind jumped to the message from earlier. Thank you for asking. I can’t.
I had assumed that meant he wasn’t coming and now he was here.
A cold little thought slid in behind my ribs before I could stop it. Maybe he came with someone else.
The idea made my stomach drop, fast and mean, and I hated myself for it immediately. I had no right to claim him. No right to assume anything. So what if we had rolled in the mud, had driving lessons, and shared a coffee? It wasn’t like we were dating.
And still, seeing him here, looking like he belonged, made me feel like I was standing outside a door I hadn’t known existed until it closed.
Meri noticed my stillness. Her gaze followed mine.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
Kitty appeared beside us with a small plate of something she had definitely stolen from the buffet.
“Oh what?” she demanded, already prepared to fight.
Meri didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Kitty’s eyes landed on Ephram and widened.
“Oh,” she breathed, suddenly delighted. “He’s cute in the uniform but this is next level.”
“Kitty,” I whispered.
“What?” she replied innocently. “I am just acknowledging reality.”
Ephram shifted slightly, his attention moving across the room. His gaze shifted, and he saw me.
My chest tightened.
He didn’t come over. He held distance like it was a rule he had written for himself before looking away.
I stood there with my hands clasped lightly in front of me, the music swelling somewhere behind my shoulder, and tried to decide what hurt more. The idea that he was here for someone else. Or the reality that he was here, and still not mine to reach for.
Lucy’s voice pulled me back. “Lydia. Are you all right?”
I forced a smile. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Dex glanced in Ephram’s direction, then back at me, his expression unreadable in the way only Dex could manage. Braxton’s eyes flicked between us, catching the thread instantly.
“It’s a little crowded in here,” Braxton offered gently, as if giving me an excuse.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Just… crowded.”
But as the band shifted into a new song and the guests around us laughed and moved and clinked glasses like the world was simple, I felt the night settle into place.
It was beautiful, bright, and full of people. Yet also suddenly, quietly, complicated.