Page 26 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
“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 whobecome 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.
