Page 43 of Christmas at Pine Ridge Inn
Fifteen
Lila climbed the stairs slowly, still glowing from the surprise birthday celebration. It had been everything she’d needed for her first Christmas without either of her parents. She’d laughed and smiled all day, able to push aside the doubts and fears about her birth mother and whether she’d ever meet her.
“Lila?” Sarah’s voice was soft behind her.
Lila turned to find Sarah standing outside her own room. She really did look sick, her face pale and drawn.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well,” Lila said, moving closer with concern. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
“No dear,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay.” She took a shaky breath. “Could we talk? Privately?”
“Of course. Would you like to come into my room?”
Sarah nodded, following Lila down the hall. Inside the Pinecone Room, Lila flipped on the bedside lamp, then turned to offer Sarah the wingback chair by the window.
But Sarah wasn’t looking at the chair. Her gaze was fixed on the bed, where Lila’s baby quilt lay folded at the foot. If it were even possible, Sarah’s face went even whiter than it had been in the hall.
“Sarah?” Lila moved toward her, alarmed. “What is it? Are you okay?”
Sarah approached the bed with trembling steps, her hand reaching out to touch the quilt as if it might dissolve into smoke at the contact. Her fingers traced the red, green, and white squares with reverent care.
“It’s exactly like I remember,” Sarah whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Lila’s breath caught in her throat. “What did you just say?”
Sarah’s fingers continued their gentle exploration of the fabric, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “I chose this quilt for my baby girl.”
The words hit Lila like a physical blow. The room seemed to tilt around her as she stared at Sarah, this woman who’d been so kind to her all week, who’d understood her grief about losing her mother, who’d felt like such a comforting presence.
Lila’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “You’re my birth mother?”
Sarah lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet Lila’s. “Yes, sweetheart. I am.”
Lila sank onto the edge of the bed, her legs suddenly unable to support her. “I can’t believe this. You’ve been right here the entire time.”
“I didn’t know it until what you said at dinner last night. I was so surprised that I needed time to think about what I could say to you. How I could explain what I did.”
Sarah sat in the wingback chair, pulling a tissue from her pocket to dab at her eyes. “I’ve been coming back to Pine Ridge every Christmas for thirty-four years. At first, I told myself it wasbecause this was the last place I’d been truly happy with David. But really, I think I’ve been coming back because it’s where you were born. It’s the closest I could get to you.”
“David,” Lila repeated, remembering Sarah’s story from their walk in the woods. “Your husband who died.”
“Your father,” Sarah corrected gently. “He died from a very aggressive cancer before you were born. We hadn’t even been married two years yet.”
Lila felt tears burning her eyes as pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. “You came back here because you’d spent Christmas here with him the year before.”
She nodded. “Our first Christmas as husband and wife. We were so happy, so full of plans for the future.” Sarah’s voice broke. “When he died, I felt like my world ended. I was twenty-three years old, pregnant, and completely alone. I didn’t know how I could possibly raise a child on my own—emotionally or financially. I couldn’t even take care of myself in those months after he died.”
“So you came back here to have me?” Lila said, trying to process everything she was hearing.
“You weren’t due for another month. I came back because I couldn’t bear to be anywhere else on Christmas. This inn, this town—it held so many happy memories from our only Christmas together as husband and wife.” Sarah wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. “I went into labor early on Christmas Eve. The storm was so bad the paramedics almost couldn’t get through. Carol and Tom were there, and Tom’s parents, and they all took such good care of us.”
“Carol told me tonight she remembered there was so much love in the room when I was born.” Tears were streaking down Lila’s face now.
Sarah nodded. “There was. Even in the middle of my grief and fear, there was so much love for you. But I was drowning,Lila. The pain of losing David was so fresh, and I was terrified I wouldn’t be enough for you. I wanted you to have everything—two parents, stability, a real chance at happiness. I’d quit my job and was living off what little savings we had, and I couldn’t afford to keep our house without David’s salary. I could barely even get out of bed most mornings. Then I resolved to come here, and it felt like kismet that you decided to be born here where David and I had spent such a magical week.”
Lila studied Sarah’s face, seeing her own features reflected there for the first time. The same brown eyes, the same heart shape to their face, even similar gestures she’d noticed but hadn’t understood.
“I worked with the adoption agency for months, looking at profiles of potential parents. I was so particular about choosing the right family for you.” Sarah’s voice grew stronger, more certain. “When I saw your parents’ profile, I knew immediately they were perfect. They were older, established, desperate for a child to love. I could see in their photos how much joy they would bring to your life.”
