23. Epilogue Laurie
Iwalk into Lestor Lodge carrying two coffees and find my daughter threatening a professional hockey player with a labeled storage bin.
"Wet gear goes here." Bethany points at the clearly marked container. "Not on the floor. Not on the bench. Not in front of the fireplace."
Shane Hollis nods. He's the first of the teammates assigned to the lodge as temporary housing.
He is solemn as a man receiving military orders. "Yes, ma'am."
There's no flirtation in his voice. Only gratitude.
I hide my smile behind my coffee cup.
The lodge is different now. Alive. The boot room is organized chaos—skates lined up, gear drying on proper racks, duffel bags stacked neatly. The curfew board hangs by the kitchen door, Shane's name written in Bethany's firm handwriting.
Bethany catches me watching and rolls her eyes. "Don't start."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking something."
"I was thinking you look very professional."
She snorts. Adjusts her clipboard. "Someone has to keep this place from turning into a frat house."
Shane clears his throat. "I'll, uh... get this to the bin."
He picks up the offending wet gear and retreats toward the boot room.
Bethany watches him go, arms crossed. "He takes the curfew board way too seriously."
"Maybe he needs the structure."
"Maybe." She softens slightly.
I squeeze her shoulder. "You're good at this."
She shrugs, but I see the pride in her eyes.
The front door opens. Grant steps inside, Major padding in behind him.
My heart still does that stupid flutter thing when I see him.
Grant's gaze finds mine immediately. Warm. Steady. Real.
"Ready?"
"Almost." I hand him the second coffee. "Bethany was just establishing dominance."
"Someone has to," Bethany says primly. She eyes Grant. "Your foundation meeting ran long."
"Board members like to talk."
"Shocker." She taps her clipboard. "New maintenance log system is working. Shane's been keeping the entries updated. I'll send you the weekly summary tonight."
Grant nods, all business. "Good. Dean wants to review some prospective players for the lodge."
"The meeting is already on my calendar."
I watch them coordinate like this is normal. Like Bethany has always belonged here. Like the lodge was waiting for her as well.
Shane reappears from the boot room, hesitates when he sees Grant and me together.
"Mr. Thorne. Ms. Bennett."
Grant's mouth twitches. "It's just Grant."
"Right. Grant." Shane shifts his weight. Clears his throat. "I, uh... wanted to say thanks. For what you did for the lodge. Dean mentioned you and Bethany were why it passed inspection."
My throat tightens.
"We were happy to help."
"Yeah, well." He looks at the floor, then back up. "Thank you."
Silence settles over the kitchen.
Grant's hand finds the small of my back.
Shane retreats upstairs before any of us can get too emotional about it.
Bethany sniffs. Blinks hard. "I'm checking the upstairs bathroom logs."
She disappears up the stairs before I can call her bluff.
Grant pulls me closer. Presses a kiss to my temple.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." I lean into him. "Better than okay."
Because this makes the fight worthwhile. Shane's quiet gratitude, Bethany's competence, the lodge full of life and second chances.
Major settles by the fireplace with a contented sigh.
Through the kitchen window, I spot movement across the property line. Jessie, watching.
Grant sees her too.
"She's still gathering evidence."
"Let her." I turn in his arms. "We're not hiding anymore."
His expression softens. "No. We're not."
He kisses me properly this time. Slow and sure and full of promises.
When we break apart, Bethany's voice drifts down from upstairs.
"If you two are done being disgustingly in love, I need Grant's signature on the water heater inspection report."
Grant laughs against my hair.
I call back, "How's the lodge, Bethany?"
Her answer comes swift and certain. "Still standing."
A beat of silence.
"For now."
Grant's hand tightens on mine.
We head toward the door together, leaving Bethany to her logs.
Outside, the mountains stretch wide and steady.
The lodge stands behind us—creaking, imperfect, and finally full of life.
The end.