Page 30 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
She looked at Brady’s face in the lamplight, at his kind eyes and encouraging expression, and felt a surge of gratitude for this man who’d become so much more than she’d expected when she arrived in Pine Ridge.
“Would you be there with me? When I talk to her?”
“If you want me there, I’ll be there.” His voice was resolute with solidarity.
They carefully returned the box to its place on the storage room shelf, erasing any evidence of their midnight search. As they prepared to return to their respective beds, Lila felt simultaneously exhausted and energized. She still didn’t have definitive proof, but she had something else now—the certainty that she was going to see this through to the end.
“Thank you,” she whispered as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “For ... everything.”
Brady reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
As Lila climbed the stairs to her room, she felt a mixture of anticipation and terror about what Christmas Eve might bring. But for the first time since arriving in Pine Ridge, she wasn’t facing the unknown alone.
In the morning, she would extend her stay. And then, when the moment felt right, she would ask Carol Brennan the question that had brought her to Pine Ridge: Are you my mother?
Eleven
Lila woke on Christmas Eve morning with sunlight streaming through her window and the sound of voices drifting up from the lobby below. For a moment, she lay still, remembering everything that had happened the night before—the tree lighting ceremony, her confession to Brady, their midnight search through the inn’s records, and most importantly, her decision to stay through Christmas.
Today was supposed to be her departure day. She’d originally planned to be on the road by now, driving back to her empty condo to spend Christmas and her birthday alone. Instead, she was about to extend her stay and potentially change everything.
Lila pushed back curtains and peered out her bedroom window, squinting through the early morning light to see if more snow had fallen overnight. Instead, she saw Brady crouched near the big oak tree by the front porch, doing something in the snow that she couldn’t quite make out.
What was he doing out there so early?
Brady moved methodically around the yard, occasionally glancing toward the driveway. He had something in his hand, but from this angle she couldn’t tell what it was. Every few steps, he’d stop and press whatever it was into the snow, then move on.
A car pulled into the circular drive, and Brady straightened, throwing whatever had been in his hand behind a tree and brushing snow off his gloves. A woman climbed out of the passenger side, followed by a small boy who immediately started bouncing on his toes despite the cold.
Understanding dawned as she recognized the little boy. Reindeer tracks. Brady was making reindeer tracks for the little boy from the festival.
Lila smiled, pulling on warm layers. When she found Sarah in the coffee nook, she told her she had to come outside with her to see something.
They shrugged on their winter coats, slipped on gloves, and made their way out onto the porch. The cold air hit Lila’s face and she pulled the hood of her coat over her head, taking a sip of the coffee she’d grabbed, hoping it would warm her from within.
“Do you really think they came here?” The child’s excited voice carried across the snowy yard.
“Well,” Brady said, his voice taking on the same serious tone she’d heard him use with the other children at the festival, “I did see some unusual tracks this morning. Want to help me investigate?”
The little boy nodded so vigorously his winter hat slipped over his eyes. His mother laughed and adjusted it, mouthing “thank you” to Brady over her son’s head.
“What are they doing?” Sarah asked, confused.
“Brady put reindeer tracks in the snow for the kid to find. He told him a story last night at the festival about how the reindeer hang out here before they head to the North Pole this afternoon to help Santa.”
Sarah smiled. “Well, isn’t that just delightful.” She followed Lila over to where two rocking chairs sat nearby.
Lila settled into one of the rockers, passing Sarah one of the two heavy blankets she’d taken from the basket near the door. Cradling her mug, she watched as Brady lead the child around the yard, pointing out each carefully placed hoofprint. The boy’s delighted shrieks pierced the quiet morning as he discovered track after track, his mitten-covered hands gesturing wildly as he explained to his mother how Rudolph must have stopped for a snack from the oak tree.
“And look, Mom! Look! They went toward the barn!” The boy took off running, following Brady’s carefully planted trail. “I bet they’re still there!”
Brady caught Lila’s eye on the porch and gave her a little wave as his now familiar slow smile spread across his face, making her stomach do little flips. She lifted her coffee mug in a small salute.
“I see you two have finally become friends,” Sarah said, raising an eyebrow.
Lila’s cheeks flushed despite the cold winter air. “Something like that.”
“His charm is hard to resist,” Sarah said with obvious affection. “When he was a younger man, he brought a woman to the festivities here a time or two, but I’m not sure he’s ever really gotten serious with anyone. He’s a thoughtful man, but he’s doesn’t seem to allow himself to get too close to anyone. Of course, I’m one to talk. I never really had eyes for anyone after my David.”
