Page 45 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
Lila caught Brady’s eye across the room, and he immediately seemed to sense that something had changed. He got up and came over to meet her.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Could we go somewhere to talk?”
Carol glanced between them with knowing eyes. “Take your time, you two. We’ll probably watch another movie after this one if you want to join us later.”
Outside, fresh snow crunched under their boots as they made their way along a path that led to a small log cabin tucked among the pine trees behind the main inn. It was rustic but well-maintained, with a covered porch and warm light glowing from the windows.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Brady said, opening the front door.
The interior was cozy and masculine, with exposed wooden beams and a stone fireplace. But what immediately caught Lila’s attention were the paintings that covered nearly every wall. There were landscapes in watercolor and oil that featured snow-covered mountains or endless fields of mountain wildflowers.
“Are these all your mother’s?” Lila asked, moving closer to study a particularly stunning painting of the inn during autumn, surrounded by golden aspens.
“Every one.” Brady moved to the fireplace and began building a fire. “I couldn’t bear to put them in storage. This way, it’s like she’s still here with me.”
Among all the landscapes, one portrait stood out. It appeared to be a young Brady, perhaps six or seven years old, grinning gap-toothed at the viewer. His mother had captured a lifelike quality about him in those brushstrokes. Lila recognized the kindness in his eyes and the hint of mischief in his smile.
“She was incredibly talented,” Lila said. “And she clearly adored you.”
“The feeling was mutual.” Brady glanced up from the kindling he was arranging. “When I close my eyes, I can still see her in her studio painting these.”
The fire caught, casting a warm glow throughout the small living room. Brady settled onto the couch, patting the space beside him. Lila joined him, still feeling like she was floating outside her body.
“So,” Brady said gently, “what’s on your mind? It seemed important.”
Lila took a shaky breath. “Brady, I found her. I found my birth mother.”
His eyes widened. “Carol told you who it was?”
“She didn’t have to.” Lila turned to face him fully. “Brady, it’s Sarah.”
The words hung in the air between them. Brady stared at her, processing what she’d said.
“Sarah,” he repeated slowly. “Like our Sarah here at the inn?”
“She found me in the hall when I went upstairs after dinner. She’s been coming back to Pine Ridge every Christmas for thirty-four years because this is where I was born. Her husband—my father—died three months before I was born, and she didn’t think she was prepared to raise a child alone.”
Brady reached for her hand. “Wow, that’s incredible. I’ve spent every Christmas with her for nearly twenty years, and I’ve never heard her say anything about having a baby. How are you processing all of this?”
“I don’t know.” She laughed, a sound caught between joy and disbelief. “Part of me can’t believe it. I mean, what are the odds? But another part of me feels like it makes perfect sense. I felt a connection with her from the very first day, and she understood my grief at such a deep level. I always felt better when I was around her.”
“She adores you,” Brady said simply. “Anyone could see that from the way she looks at you, even before you both knew the truth.”
Lila told him everything—the surprise Christmas Eve birth, regretting her decision to close the adoption, doing the DNA test hoping to find Lila, and not knowing until Lila mentioned the quilt and her reason for visiting the night before.
“She spent her entire career working with children because she thought maybe someone would help me the same way she was helping other kids.” Tears spilled over again. “She’s been loving me from a distance for thirty-four years.”
Brady pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried against his shoulder. They sat like that for several minutes, the fire crackling softly and the snow falling outside the windows.
“Are you going to tell the others?” Brady asked eventually.
“Not tonight. Sarah was terrified to tell me the truth. She spent all day hiding in her room because she was afraid I’d hate her for giving me up. I think we both need time to process this before we make it public. Obviously, Carol and Tom know, and I did ask her if I could tell you.”
Brady nodded. “This is huge for both of you.”
Lila pulled back to look at him. “There’s something else. It’s probably a little impulsive, and I haven’t really thought it through, but I was looking through resorts with requests for proposals when I couldn’t sleep last night, and I saw one over in Breckenridge. Initially, I was thinking it might let me be closer to you ...” She paused, waiting for his reaction.
