Page 10 of The Christmas Lodge
It was a far cry from some of the men in St. Louis. Just last month, she had gone on a date with a man who rambled on about his obsession for virtual golf. Only good manners had kept Lacy from getting up and walking out. There had not been a second date, that was for sure.
Realizing she was comparing Derek, a man she barely knew, with men she had dated in St. Louis, Lacy shook her head slightly, as though to clear her head and turned away from the dogsled tracks with a resolute air.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned and looked at the house, giving it a real once-over for the first time now that she had the light of day to assist her. Derek and his team were soon forgotten as she studied the rambling Victorian mansion. As much as she hated to think her grandfather had good taste, she had to admit that, underneath all the layers of neglect and needed repairs, she could see how the place could have captured the old man’s heart.
Her eyes traveled over the gingerbread trim and up one of the turrets, catching on a small stained-glass window, so delicate and beautiful her breath caught in her throat at the sight of it.
Don’t let the charm of this place fool you,she reminded herself as she tromped up the snowy front porch steps and pulled the key from her pocket.This place still needs a mountain of work, and you still haven’t figured out what to do with it.
The mansion was large, she had already gathered that much, which meant that maybe she could flip it into a B&B. Even as the thought occurred to her, she wondered if anyone would even stay there, what with the adorable and cozy inn just a few minutes away in the heart of town.
Or maybe I could use it as a venue,she thought, pushing open the front door, which stuck a little.Of course, the rooms might be too small for that.
The little she’d seen of the house last night had shown that the main floor was made up of many smaller rooms rather than an open floor plan, in true Victorian fashion.
This might be harder than I thought…
Catching herself beginning to feel overwhelmed and dismayed, Lacy forced herself not to spiral into negative thoughts. She never allowed herself to think that way in her business dealings. Confidence and gumption were required in her line of work, and she simply needed to view this house as another one of her projects. Lacy Preston had never been one to back down from a challenge, and she wasn’t about to start now.
Even if this mansion brought with it unwelcome reminders of the grandfather she had barely known and the father who had abandoned her. She vowed then and there, while standing in the grand foyer, that she would not let this project defeat her.
Squaring her shoulders and setting her chin, Lacy pulled her phone from her pocket and opened the Notes app. Methodically, moving from room to room, she spent the next several hours studying every detail of the house and taking notes of what needed to be fixed. The list in her phone grew longer and longer as she noted peeling wallpapers that needed to be stripped and replaced, squealing door hinges that needed oil, broken window panes, the scuffed and scarred wooden floors.
She would need to get an official inspection to check on the state of the plumbing and electrical work too. And, of course, the entire place needed a deep clean, which meant a mountain of cleaning supplies just to excavate the beauty and character that she could already see waiting to burst forth once the house was given some TLC.
Hours later, Lacy tucked her phone back into her pocket and stretched, taking a long inhale through her nose and immediately sneezing from all the dust in the air. Laughing in spite of herself, Lacy made her way down the stairs from the third floor, where she had been poking around in the nooks and crannies, back to the grand foyer.
Her stomach grumbled loudly, reminding her that the muffin she’d scarfed down at The Snowy Pine that morning had been woefully inadequate for the hours of work she had just put in assessing every inch of the house. Satisfied with her morning’s progress and refusing to think about the fact that assessing the needs of the house was the easiest of all the work to come, Lacy locked the front door and headed back into town.
She wandered down the sidewalk of the main street, weaving her way through the Christmas shoppers and townsfolk going about their business, until a bakery caught her eye. Decadent pastries displayed in the window with the words “Sweet Thing Bakery” stenciled on it set her stomach growling once more, but it was the mouth-watering aromas of freshly-baked bread and goodies that made the decision for her. Pulling open the quaint wooden front door that made a little bell jingle to announce her presence, Lacy stepped into a wonderland of baked goods.
The bakery’s interior, quaint and adorable, made her pause. She was greeted by white shiplap walls, one of which held a large hand-painted menu detailing all that the bakery had to offer. Along the wall of picture windows, vintage wooden booths painted a distressed powdery blue already held several patrons, sipping coffee and eating.
The crowning feature, though, was an old-fashioned polished wooden counter that ran almost the length of one wall.
It held a variety of glass-domed cake stands, each piled high with sugary confections. Lacy’s mouth watered at the sight of golden-brown gingerbread men, sugar cookies covered in the most delicate and intricate frosting work she’d ever seen, frosted red velvet brownies, enormous cinnamon rolls covered in a sugary glaze…
“Welcome! How can I help you?”
Lacy tore her gaze away from the seemingly endless row of sweet treats to look at the woman standing behind the counter, waiting to take her order. The woman, who Lacy guessed was in her mid-twenties, had thick blonde hair pulled back in a perky high ponytail that bounced and swung whenever she moved, which was a lot. She wore a huge smile and had bright eyes, exuding a welcoming aura that instantly set Lacy at ease.
She looks exactly like the kind of person that makes treats for a living, Lacy thought with some amusement.
“I’m in desperate need of a coffee,” Lacy replied with a smile. “I saw a peppermint mocha on the menu that sounds divine.”
“You’re going toloveit,” the woman replied, then clapped her hands as an idea occurred to her. “And my peppermint chocolate scone would be perfect with it! Let me get you one, on the house!”
Lacy blinked, stunned and a little overwhelmed at the flow of words, but she wasn’t going to turn down a free scone. “Thank you, wow. That’s so kind of you.”
The woman waved away her thanks, beaming as she placed the scone on a plate and began preparing Lacy’s coffee. “I’m Sarah, by the way. Sarah Langston. I know pretty much everyone in town, which means you’re new. Are you visiting?”
By now, Lacy had begun to get used to Sarah’s effusive, bubbly manner, and she took those frank observations in stride.
“Lacy Preston. And yes, I’m just visiting.”
“That’s wonderful!” Sarah added a generous spiral of whipped cream to the top of Lacy’s coffee and pushed it toward her. “I hope you’ll love it here—Snowy Pine Ridge is a special place.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Lacy admitted, taking a sip of her peppermint mocha and sighing with pleasure. She pulled out her credit card and handed it to Sarah.
